Chapter Five:

Despite the promises made, I find myself awake in the middle of the night, directing the flow of chakra all throughout my body.

I meant the words when I said them, of course. But then I lay in bed with the warm, distracting center of chakra in my body, and relax enough to lull myself into sleep.

The ceiling is white and vacant above me; free from panels for counting. My bedside lamp is turned down low, bright enough to light the room in a faint glow. When I close my eyes, my eyelids are lit orange instead of black. Too bright to sleep with.

Just a little bit of practice.

Ten minutes turns into an hour turns to two.

Nothing feels more natural than the sensation of the energy running through my arms as I move in the pseudo-dance that makes up the gentle fist kata.

The chakra expands and sways like water in my veins, eager to follow the slightest pull of my thoughts. Like a puppet master, the strings just exist inside my body.

Albeit a blind puppeteer, following intuition and cause-and-effect. If only I could see it.

The chakra sharpens and expands when I follow through with the flat-handed strikes of the clan style. Having even more control of it, being able to actually know where to focus my control instead of just following some odd intuition…

A sigh escapes my lips.

I lower my hands to my sides, my breath coming slow and steady.

Before my plan becomes more than just a half-baked urge to see, my chakra flows up my spine and towards the back of my skull.

It settles there, makes my head feel light and free of fatigue. But even when I focus it deeper, nothing happens. Perhaps the room becomes a little more clear, sharper?

My vision was already perfect. It's hard to tell the difference.

Nothing of note.

I let out another sigh and my chakra settles back down in its place of origin.

There was something in the manga, some sort of hand seal the Hyuuga did to activate their dojutsu. Something with two fingers upward, but as comfortable I was with controlling my chakra, I had no fucking idea what hand seals did. A memory in the back of my head didn't help much.

For now, I climb back into bed. I'll research more into it tomorrow.

Consciousness fades minutes after my head hits the pillow.

Training with Father and Neji the next day begins at 10 am sharp, as always.

We start with basic stretching, then kata to warm up.

"Hinata, Neji," Father says, "today you will spar each other. Do not hold back." He directs the last part to me, staring down with heavy-lidded eyes.

Have I ever held back? Having friends didn't make me suddenly invalid.

I purse my lips and stand up straight, waiting for Neji to take his place across from me before raising my arm in the starting stance.

Neji is a mirror image across from me.

"Begin," Father says.

Neji strikes out, as fast as a cheetah. My mouth twitches upward; I sidestep just in time to dodge his palm.

Conscious thought fades away when I fight; instinct takes its place. Chakra flows up my arms and settles in my hands; flowing in time to my moves.

Neji is slippery; impossible to hit. He's faster and sharper than me, but we are still both using the same fighting stance at a beginners level.

It's easy to predict.

I pivot out of the way of his attack, let my spine arch backward as I feel the way his follow up hit brushes against my chest.

It aches in the way pressing on a bruise does. Makes my breath come a bit faster, heart thump a pace quicker. I don't twitch or flinch; pain is nothing new.

His hand pulls back to let his dominant one finish me off; there's an opening there, between his actions.

The space between his arm and body is clear. My back straightens and I strike out, my palm hitting against the flat of his ribcage. My chakra, unbidden, pulses in time with my touch.

I feel the moment it connects more than a normal palm strike. Neji's eyes are wide, his breath stutters.

My arm is knocked away. Two strikes to my own chest, only noticed from the throb of pain that suddenly appears. One on my stomach, one high near my heart.

Who knew Neji could move so fast?

I'm staring up at the ceiling, the wind knocked out of me from the force of hitting the ground. It wasn't as bad as that first time, I can breathe again within moments.

Did he move fast enough to blur or did the pain just affect my eyesight?

Neji's kneeling beside me, hand placed over his own heart. He doesn't look injured, but his face is pale and his lips are turned downward in a deep frown.

I have absolutely no idea what hitting someone with a hand full of chakra and the intent to harm does.

I have no idea why I thought it was a good idea. Thinking hadn't come into the equation at all, I just acted. My eyes feel shaky and unfocused, I look to Father instead.

He's standing, impassive and still as he stares at the both of us. Father, all-knowing, speaks up the moment my head turned to face him.

"Hinata, letting yourself get hit in order to land an attack is a poor tactic that can easily cause you irreparable harm. Do better."

He has no words for Neji.

It's clear those were his last words for the session, as he walks out the doorway moments after.

I push myself into a sitting position, rubbing my elbow where it hit the floor first. Sore, but not nearly as bad as body aches would get before.

I wait until my eyes feel steady and in my control again before I look over at Neji.

He's standing, staring off at the wall that has the poster on it. His hair is as neat as it always is, compared to mine, which feels like it's standing on end.

"You got me good," I say, standing up slowly. When I lean back and stretch my back out, it doesn't click or pop.

Ah, the joys of a body that doesn't attack itself. Spondylitis can fuck right off.

"Hm," Neji says. "Yes." His voice feels as distant as his gaze; he doesn't even turn his head to look at me.

I open my mouth to ask exactly how it feels to have chakra pushed into your body; thankfully I realize in time that hmm, probably not the most sensitive question.

"I had no idea you could move so fast. It's impressive," I say instead.

Neji's quiet, but he finally meets my eyes when he replies, "Yes. People are born with different skill levels. Next time, I will not let you touch me."

Let me? My mouth spreads into a crooked grin, my eyebrows rise high.

I bite back the words that spring to mind. Neji was four-years-old, traumatized and most likely with a ridiculously high IQ with zero output on where to focus that intelligence.

Knowing that didn't make it any less tempting to tell him to shove his disdain somewhere it was appreciated.

"I suppose we'll have to wait and see. Maybe next time I'll be the one knocking you down," I say. My grin, sardonic and ugly, does not want to leave my face.

Neji's nose twitches. "Unlikely," he declares.

Ugh, the little brat.

There's love for him, deep down, but it's particularly hard to focus on when my jaw is clenched tight from irritation. I reach out and pat him on the shoulder, as light as can be. He doesn't flinch away or tense up. A good sign.

Just a little-repressed anger over the Hizashi thing, then. Well, at least he was letting out a little. Maybe it'd be good if I snapped back at him, let him really vent things out.

Not today though, with the way he keeps reaching up and brushing his fingers high over his ribcage.

It's easy to get books on chakra.

Members of the Hyuuga clan weren't allowed into the clan head's rooms without permission, but select few branch members were. Caretakers, cleaners, cooks. All them ninja, of course. Only a few were actually active, the rest assigned jobs at the compound.

There was a wariness in me, a caution of talking to people who I didn't already know. They were people with feelings and thoughts and personalities I didn't have any sort of grasp on at all. What if I said the wrong thing?

Intuition and empathy gave me some measure of comfort, in both this life and before, but I had gotten used to the ease of knowing, inside and out, how the people around me thought and felt.

I can't live life in a bubble of safety though. I manage. No branch member would deny the Hyuuga heiress books she requested politely. They'd tell Hiashi later, of course. But that was later, and I could read a book within a few hours.

I sit on my bed, one of the requested books opened in front of me.

A lot of it was basic, introductory stuff that I already knew. Or if I didn't know, had already guessed at. More from common sense than any particular intelligence.

A lot of chakra was based on control, but just as much of it was based on hand seals. A sequence of patterns filled with the intent to create the outcome wanted.

Hand seals would basically train chakra to flow and act in a certain way based on the seal and hand motion used. I couldn't look away from the page.

I had set out to read the book with a certain goal in mind, but I end up reading all of the beginning chapters anyway. The more I read, the more kanji I can really learn.

At least, that's how I justify my distraction to myself.

Eventually, I reach the chapter on the content I was looking for.

Chakra when introduced to other sentient beings.

There's a section on animals, how if they are exposed to it enough, their thoughts become more aware, more stable, and some can even learn to speak.

But when chakra touches another separate human, intent, and specific context often is the only thing that can determine what will happen.

Everyone's chakra is different, and each living being has a different set of abilities. Clan traits often come into play; it's almost guaranteed a child would inherit certain chakra-traits from one or more of their parents.

Inherited traits disregarded, often, with the focused intent to harm, chakra can cause bruising, combustion, increased strength and speed, inflict organ damage or heart palpitations.

There's more than that listed there, but my eyes still on palpitations.

I had them in my before life, of course, I knew what they felt like. Neji seemed particularly wound up after I hit him. Palpitations weren't always felt, only the after effects of unease, anxiety was standard.

If an unpracticed hit, backed up by chakra, could cause unsteadiness to that extent in the body, it certainly wasn't to be trifled with.

Father would have seen if it happened. His byakugan is always activated during training sessions. I'll ask him at dinner.

I don't ask him at dinner. I don't ask him at breakfast the next morning either.

If I got an answer I didn't like, it'd taint the moments where I can let myself just relax and entertain myself with playing with my chakra. Easier to just… not know. Neji probably was just surprised I got a hit on him at all.

I flip open a page of the book on chakra in my lap, eyes following the diagram on Yin and Yang chakra.

"Hinata-chan, what do you think about this color?" Mother asks, holding up a fuschia colored yukata. Half of my closet lays up folded in a box to her side; I've started to outgrow most of my old clothes. I'm sure I'll walk in tomorrow and find half a new wardrobe waiting for me.

"Don't like it," I say. "Too bright."

My eyes drift back to my book, eager to absorb myself in it.

Mother's sigh is loud; impossible to ignore.

"This scarf is so cute, don't you think?" When I look back over at her, she's holding a cream scarf. She's staring at me, patiently waiting for an actual response.

"It's not bad. Soft," I say. That should be enough of an answer to please her.

But right when I start to read the next sentence, Mother sits on the bed near me.

"Mother knows how to knit, you know. How about we take a break from this stuff and I'll show you how to start it? You could make a scarf in that pretty red color you like," Mother says, smiling down at me.

I push down the irritation that wells up over being interrupted again.

"No thanks," I mumble.

Knitting was cool, but if I was going to be doing anything creative, it'd be illustration. I didn't dedicate my entire life to it before only to replace it with a different creative outlet.

Slowly, the book on my lap is tugged out of my reach and placed, shut, on my nightside table.

"Let's go out to the park, then. You've never been to the ones outside of the grounds, I'm sure you'll love them. And maybe you can meet some more kids your age!" she says, patting the back of my hair down to fall a bit flatter. It doesn't work very well.

"If I'm going out, can't we just go to Choji's house?"

"Well, he's not available every possible day, Hinata-chan. People have lives they live, sometimes we have to do different things." She's clearly in the type of mood where her mind is made up and there is no hope of persuading her otherwise.

So I nod my head and stand passively as she dresses me up in 'outside clothes'.

No kimono - that might get dirty - or anything I wear for training. Training clothes at a park? As a Hyuuga? The other people there would get the wrong impression. And we could never have that. It's always something traditional and perfectly matched. Mother is allergic to anything too trendy.

My mouth twitches in amusement.

"Something funny, Hinata-chan?" Mother asks, eyebrow raised.

"No, Mother."

It's finally started to grow warm enough to forgo my usual knit hat, but I still bury my hands in the warm pockets of my overcoat as we walk through Konoha together.

Mother stares ahead of us, careful that no civilians bump into us. But we're given a wide berth, even with the crowds of people, not even a single person brushes against my shoulder.

It's not a long walk; it's certainly shorter than the way to the Akimichi quarters.

The paved road gives way to green grass and meadows. There are people in the distance; loud laughter audible from where I stand.

I lick my bottom lip and tug at Mother's kimono.

"Hinata-chan?" she asks, looking down at me. Her eyes are wider than usual; the pale shade of lilac almost matches the sky.

"Why are you so scared of me using chakra?" I say. The question has been haunting me for days; the way she frowns after training or tucks away my books. Her little distractions, so clearly desperate to get me to do anything else.

The fact I'm here right now, instead of at home with books and Neji. The way she stares at my cousin, eyes narrowed and never directly spoken to. A bad influence.

Her mouth purses into a thin line and is then quickly smoothed out.

"Hinata-chan, is this really the right time to talk about this? How about you go play over there with the rest of the kids?" She gestures to the park, where there is a small playground and benches scattered. We're still far enough away that our voices wouldn't be heard by others, though.

"I want to know, Mother. Please," I say.

Mother, despite all her stress, has never denied me answers when directly asked. She nods her head, once, twice.

"Alright," she says. "You don't know this about me, but I was a medical-nin before I had you. My eyes let me be of great use to the hospital, because of our ability to see chakra pathways and diagnose issues without the need of outside abilities.

"Hinata-chan, I've seen… very many children come into the hospital with chakra exhaustion or other maladies that come with too much use, too soon. There are children who completely warped their ability to control their chakra or crippled their pathways forever, just from overuse. Your father wants to train you, and that is okay. But you have to be careful, Hinata. You are going to make a great kunoichi, and interest in chakra is a good thing. But the way you've been focusing, it's very frightening for me. Do you see?"

I swallow around the lump in my throat. Mother, a medical ninja? I suppose Hinata must have learned to make those little medicinal creams from somewhere. I don't know why I never supposed it could be from Mother.

No wonder she was so sad about the war, even as a Hyuuga.

"Yes. Okay," I sigh. "Can you get me books on it then? I'll read theory, instead. Is that okay?"

Mother makes a humming sound and places a hand on my head. She doesn't muss my hair, only attempts to smooth it down. "Yes, I can do that. You don't need to stop completely, but please just wait until you train with your Father. He only holds training sessions twice a week for a reason."

I nod my head again. I don't really know what else to say. Her points have been made. It doesn't make me any less tempted to mess with it, but temptation can be denied. Or at the very least, delayed. I remembered how quickly a year went by, before. It'd go quickly again.

"Why don't you go play with the other kids now? I'll go do some shopping for you. I won't be far, I'll know if you're in trouble." Her hand leaves my head.

Her question didn't really need an answer, but I agree anyway. She makes no sign of moving first, her hands don't even twitch from her sides.

Right. Park. Playing around on my own had no appeal, and I had absolutely zero friends waiting there. What on earth was I supposed to do, just walk up and ask someone to be friends?

If only I had an adult to introduce me. It was easy when I knew exactly who was desperate for companionship.

The mid-afternoon sky is pale blue, cloudy and pastel. The middle of the park is only a little bit away. It's primarily made up of meadow and fresh grass; there's a little stone path through the center and benches placed all around it. A mother sits on one of them, nursing her child.

Laughter sounds from the jungle gym off to the side, kids a little older than me swing upside down and do acrobatic tricks. Closely near that, there's a sandbox already occupied with children around my age.

A swing set is set good ways apart from them, a little boy with blonde hair swings alone. The park is packed full, but the two empty swing seats beside him are unused.

If I had the vision I had before, his shape would be a blur of warm colors, impossible to decipher anything more.

But luckily that wasn't the case. I could make out the three parallel lines on one side of his face, surely the same on the other. And the way he pumps his legs to fly high in the air but still keeps glancing over at the kids playing, chewing his lip at the way they laugh loudly.

I exhale deeply despite the growing anxiety in my chest. Perhaps because of it. Everything feels so much more real when I'm looking at Naruto, alive and breathing.

Reality seems so much harsher than it normally does when I'm watching him. I could have survived, before. Maybe I'm just in a coma now, thrown back into my childish obsessions.

It doesn't matter because I'm stuck here. Looking at Naruto, with his bright dandelion hair and childish body, makes my heart thump hard against my ribcage.

The entire manga was about him. It's impossible to block the memories and the fear out when I'm looking directly at the story's entire focal point.

Naruto's head turns sharply to the side and meets my eyes.

I snap my gaze away, scanning the area for absolutely anyone who can make me seem busy and not approachable.

A dog. There's a tiny puppy, off near the outskirts of the park, being spoken to loudly by another small boy.

My feet scurry over to them, and I quickly try to ignore the guilty feeling that I'm fleeing from a three-year-old. I am, but it doesn't make me feel any less shitty.

I'm a foot away from the puppy and his owner before I realize I'm standing there, with absolutely no idea of what to say.

"Hi," I say to the dog. Belatedly realizing that maybe it'd be better if I actually introduced myself to the human first, I add on, "Um, you too. Hi."

When I finally meet the gaze of the boy, I resist the urge to bash my head against the nearby bench. I ran away from one bad reminder of canon into another.

A little boy with angry red triangles on his cheeks and razor-sharp teeth stares back at me. But Kiba doesn't aggravate any lingering feelings of fear in me - he wasn't nearly as prominent in the manga. He was clearly just a little boy, not an omen of future danger.

He looks more wolf than a kid, truly, with his slit eyes and unruly hair. "Hi," he says back, blinking those odd eyes at me. But really, who am I to judge about weird eyes?

It was easier with Choji; I could remember he was just a lonely kid desperate for friendship. Kiba was more of an unknown; he didn't seem particularly desperate for friends either. He had a permanent one with him at all times.

"I'm Hinata," I say to the dog - Akamaru. I raise my eyes back up to Kiba's. "What's his name? And yours, too."

Kiba stares at me; his gaze feels like it can piece down to my very soul. I have absolutely no idea what he's thinking. What do wolfish little boys think about? Probably how unimpressive and odd I am.

But Kiba seems to make up his mind because he stands up and brushes off some dirt from his pants.

"This is Akamaru!" he says, ruffling the puppy between the ears. "I'm Kiba. I was just telling him how boring it was 'round here. All civi.. civilians, the scaredy cats." His voice is loud and abrasive; there's a sandpaper quality to it that seems unlikely he'll outgrow.

"This is my first time here," I say, despite not knowing if he really wanted me to reply. But conversations were usually two-sided, and I suppose we were having one now. I ask Akamaru, "Can I pet you?"

It seems talking to Akamaru like he's a third party is the right thing to do because Kiba waits patiently for some sort of signal before snickering and nodding his head. "Yeah, go ahead. S'weird this is your first time here, isn't the Hyuuga compound like, right around the corner?"

"Yeah, it's only a minute away," I say. "My parents don't really like taking me out though. I think they're scared of bad influences."

Kiba barks a laugh at that, running a hand over his head and only succeeding at messing up his hair even more. "I dunno if you should talk to me then. I'm an Inuzuka, we live right over there." He points in the opposite direction to where the compound is. "If your parents don't want you playin' here, it's probably cause they don't like Mom."

I kneel down on the ground and pay no heed to the way the loose dirt smudges against my knees. I reach my hand out to let Akamaru sniff at it, which he gladly does. After a few moments, he seems comfortable enough to let me scratch behind his ears.

His fur is soft and surprisingly dense; there's quite a bit of give when I rub under his chin.

"I'm sure your Mom's great," I say to Kiba. "You seem nice too, and Akamaru is here, so. Dogs make everything worth it."

The last bit of wariness from Kiba's face fades, and he laughs again, exposing those pointy eye teeth. They must have been baby teeth - yet they still looked as if they could do some damage. I suppose clan traits were developed in utero. "Well, that's right for sure. Akamaru's the best. Akamaru, roll over," he says. Akamaru drops away from my hand, exposing his belly.

Kiba reaches over and rubs his palm over Akamaru's belly, snickering at the way he wiggles and growls.

"How old are you?" Kiba asks even as he continues playing with Akamaru. He snaps his fingers and grins as Akamaru immediately jumps back up into a sitting position.

"I'm three and a half. My birthday's in December. What about you?"

"Me too! But my birthday's just in two months. I came here to teach Akamaru to climb up the jungle gym over there but the older kids wouldn't scram. Or even just give us enough space to do our thing.'Cause it's after academy hours and stuff, they think they're so cool cause they got in," he says, voice heavy with scorn.

A picture paints in my head; new ninjas-in-training, arrogant from their new status. A little kid with a puppy, clearly from a clan but too young to hold it over their head. So instead of giving up any of their rungs, they kick him out of their space. Perhaps laugh a bit. Karma, in their minds. Unfair, in Kiba's.

I look askance at him. "Well… now there's two of us. Maybe they'd listen better?" I suggest, mouth twitching upwards into a grin. One of my more genuine ones too.

My awkwardness is beginning to fade. Kiba may be a character I knew from canon and dissimilar to the quiet, steady nature of Neji or Choji, but he wasn't going to bite me. He was still a little kid, brash and loud, but not any danger. It'd be more likely that I hurt him with my words than vice versa.

He stares at me, nose scrunched up. "I dunno…"

"C'mon, I'll show you." I give Akamaru one quick scratch between the ears before standing. "They're just civilian students, right? They don't learn anything in the first year, so their threats are totally just for show," I say. I read the books first-year academy students got on chakra - if all the other subjects were like that, it was more like first grade than any special ninja school. Perhaps with a touch more brainwashing.

"What? Really? Hana said…" the rest of his sentence is mumbled and unclear, but from the way he glowers, it's clearly unhappy.

"Don't worry, it's a good thing!" I sling an arm over his shoulder and squeeze, letting go a moment later.

I hear the thumb of feet as they follow after me, so I approach the jungle gym and step up on one of the rungs. It's the type built out of rectangular shapes, ideal for sitting and swinging.

I wait and take another step up.

"Hey, go find somewhere else to play! This isn't for toddlers," a snide voice calls above me. From the center, there's a little boy with plain features sitting atop the highest rung. Dirty blonde hair, plain clothes typical of a six-year-old.

My lips spread wide into a grin. More similar to a baring of teeth than any show of friendliness. "We want to play here, though. So either make space and ignore us or go away," I say, taking another step up the bars.

The boy stares at me, mouth agape. His hands clench and unclench on the bar beneath him. "No way. Go play in the sandbox or something," he sneers. Nods come along around from the other kids. None are hanging upside down anymore.

Academy students, seriously. Six years old was still a child, and I was hardly a child. A single sentence about their appearance or their futures and I could have them all sobbing.

But just because I could doesn't mean that I should. Little brats they were, but so were many other kids. I shift my weight on the rung.

Kiba catches my eye, his eyebrows furrowed close together. Despite my words, he's clearly worried. And about a girl he just met not even a half-hour ago.

Right. I wasn't being mean just for the sake of it.

I tilt my head and let my smile widen. "You may be an academy student, but I'm a Hyuuga. Haven't you heard? We can see everything, even your deepest secrets."

The boy's throat bobs; he's all bluster when he scoffs and crosses his arms. "Yeah, right. Don't be stupid."

"Eh, Keichi-kun, she does have those eyes…" a girl whispers from his side. Her thumb is pressed up against her bottom lip; her nails too short to be chewed down any further.

"Nah, Hinata's telling the truth! She can see anything," Kiba pipes up in a crowing voice. "Even your insides."

"That's right, so if you don't leave me and my friend alone, I'll tell all of your friends here exactly what you did last week. And I don't think you want that..." My voice goes low and quiet, but I don't let my smile fade.

Just enough vagueness to let his mind fill in the blanks over exactly what embarrassing things he's done and grow pale.

He's six, of course there's something he's embarrassed about. It doesn't take a mind reader to come up with that.

Keichi huffs but he drops down to the grass below. "C'mon, guys. We can play ninja over there, this is getting old," he says. Acting as if he simply lost interest, but his cheeks are flushed red.

His friends do listen, but the glare he gives me as they walk away could kill.

"Holy crap, Hinata! That was so cool!" Kiba exclaims, climbing up the rungs to match my height. "You were all serious and stuff, like a real ninja." He's grinning over at me, his eyes sparkling.

The last lingering worry over scaring off a bunch of six-year-olds fades; Kiba was clearly happy with it. So my little job was accomplished.

I smirk back at him and make a little clicky noise with my tongue down at Akamaru. "How're we gonna get him up here?"

"C'mon Akamaru, give it a try," Kiba says, stretching down to tap the first bar with his toes. "It's just balance, you're good at that."

Watching Kiba, the other kids and people in the park fade into the background. Akamaru listens to Kiba too, and cautiously puts his paws up on the rung and jumps up to balance his paws on it.

My worries before seem pointless now that the warm glow of happiness starts up in my chest.

"Good job, Akamaru," I call down. "You can do it!"

Looking to the ground from where I sit sets my stomach rolling, but I was only three feet off the ground tops. Tree climbing would put me a lot higher than that. So I set my eyes back on Kiba and let the height aspect of things settle in the back of my mind.

I part my lips to speak, but nothing clever or interesting comes to mind. So I sit quietly and observe.

Even despite my lack of decent small talk, Kiba's still smiling and laughing down to Akamaru. Despite the little puppy's lack of feet or hands to help him, he's managing to climb up to the second bar of the jungle gym. Kiba keeps watching until he seems confident that Akamaru has it handled, and then turns to me.

"Hinata, you'll never believe what happened the other day! So, Kaimaru, that's my sister's ninken, was tryin' to get Akamaru to do some training stuff and get us all mad," Kiba starts, turning to face me even as he keeps glancing back to his dog. "And well, Kaimaru knows what to say to get us irritated, so Akamaru totally jumped on him. But usually that's it and then it's back to boring stuff, but Kai - he totally couldn't get Akamaru off him! So he was just trying to jump around and kick him off, but Akamaru totally clung on and just rode him around. It took like 5 minutes before Hana came in and got him free, it was so cool. Right, Akamaru?"

There's a certain talent for being able to say so many words in such a short period of time. My eyes are wide in their sockets; I can only hope that the fact my irises are barely visible helps hide that. After Akamaru's little proud 'woof!' of agreement, a snicker escapes me.

"Um, yeah! Akamaru's a total badass," I say, covering my grin with my hand.

"Badass?" Kiba repeats, tilting his head at me.

Oh. Oops. It's easy to forget that certain swears weren't as common in a different language. And also, I'm three.

"Yeah, Akamaru's a total badass!" Kiba leans back and laughs; he almost slips off the rung he's on but just settles his hands behind him on a separate rung. "Isn't that right, boy?"

Akamaru barks again and carefully jumps up another rung.

He's in grabbing distance now, but Kiba makes no move to pick him up. I adjust my weight, watching nervously as Akamaru starts to put his paws up to climb again. It'd certainly hurt if he fell from this height.

But my worries are for naught because he climbs up with little trouble and then proceeds to jump into my lap.

A tiny noise of surprise escapes my mouth, quickly replaced with a giggle. Nothing was as good as the feeling of a dog that likes you. I scratch under his chin and smooth his ear between my fingers, relishing in the velvety soft feeling of his fur.

There's a moment of quiet; when I look over at Kiba he's staring at Akamaru with focus. Akamaru's nose is twitching and he barks a little.

At the noise, Kiba relaxes and scoots closer to me. "You have any siblings? I just have my older sister," he says, reaching over to ruffle his hand over Akamaru's face.

"No, it's just me. But I have a cousin, he's pretty much like my brother. But we haven't been hanging out much; he's been busy with br… uh, clan dynamics stuff."

Kiba nods along like he knows what I'm talking about - I suppose he might. Hyuuga clan drama certainly wasn't a private matter, and gossip traveled fast in places like Konoha. "Do you have the dojutsu yet?" he asks, still messing with Akamaru, who's practically melting in my lap.

"The byakugan? No, not yet."

"Great! Let's make sure the other kids don't find out that, though." Kiba grins again, wolfish and unrestrained. "Let's play hide-and-seek. Akamaru and I play on our own, but this way it's more fair. Me an' Akamaru against you, then we'll switch."

I raise my eyebrows and say, "You and Akamaru as a team doesn't seem fair. Don't you both have a super sense of smell? Akamaru and I can be a team!"

"Eh? You know that?" Kiba's eyebrows are even higher than mine now. "I didn't think the Hyuuga bothered tellin' their kids about little clans like us. But definitely not! It can be me and you against Akamaru. That's fair," Kiba says, nodding his head with finality.

"Well, I suppose that works too," I sigh, despite the fact I'm starting to grin. I scoop Akamaru up from my lap and cradle him in my arms. My legs swing from the holes in the jungle gym;I let myself slide through them and land lightly on the ground.

I place Akamaru on the ground and pat his head a little. "So… we'll hide first?"

"Yeah! Not together though, he'd find us way too fast. Akamaru, you know the rules. A minute before you go hunting!" He grins at his dog before patting me on the shoulder. "Bet he finds you first!" he says, before running off to go find his hiding spot.

Akamaru's laying on the ground, resting his little paws over his eyes. So cute.

It's harder to find a spot that seems difficult to sniff out than to find one out of sight.

Climbing up a tree was my first thought, but as hard as it'd be to see, I'm sure the scent of girl up high would be a dead giveaway.

So instead I find myself awkwardly crouching in the middle of a bush surrounded by flowers. Hydrangeas - my eyes keep drifting over to them.

The sight of the blue flowers make me keep glancing at my arms, but no matter how much I stare they still remain blank and ink free.

Whenever I'm old enough and my status as heiress is entirely secure, I'm going to get tattooed up again. Maybe not the exact same as the ones I had before, but similar. Something to remember before without needing to think about it.

A minute ticks by. No one finds me yet.

I sigh and settle back onto my butt to relax and wait for the long haul.

But there's a bit of shuffling behind me, and I turn to see if it's Akamaru.

But instead of the expected puppy, there's a little boy with bright blue eyes and scratch marks on his cheeks.

Oh fuck.

"What're you doing in there?" Naruto asks, a wrinkle between his brow.

I wipe my hand, suddenly sweaty, against my pants. "Shh, I'm playing hide-and-seek," I whisper.

"Oh." He looks away and back at me, a tiny ball of a girl in a flower patch. Blood rushes to my cheeks; I must look ridiculous. "Can I play?"

I gnaw at my bottom lip and focus my eyes on the hole at the bottom of his shirt instead of those wide eyes. "Um, it's already started, so we can't have another player. Maybe next time," I say because I have no fucking self-control. I regret the words the second they come out of my mouth.

My eyes dart up to gauge Naruto's face - despite the rejection, his mouth is tilting up. "Um, okay! Next time."

"...Go away, please. You're going to give away my hiding spot," I mumble, ducking my head back down against my knees. Please no next time, never would be ideal.

"Right! Sorry!" Naruto lets go of the branches making me visible to view and scurries away.

I scrub a hand over my face and blow out a puff of air.

"Woof!"

I flinch back, eyes wide in my face as I sway back. Instead of Naruto, Akamaru sits in front of me, his doggy face grinning smugly.

"Ahh, you got me!" I say, forcing a grin on my face. I reach out to pet him a few times and let the feeling of soft fur and a tiny, dense body take some of the anxiety away. "You're such a good seeker!" I giggle because that just makes me think of stupid Harry Potter references.

Akamaru barks in agreement and then makes a silly little 'wooo' noise when I lean down to smack a little kiss on his forehead. "Let's go find Kiba now, then!" I stand up and brush the dirt from my pants.

Things might be doomed to be destroyed, but at least in the present, there's a tiny puppy following at my heels and the scent of hydrangea in the air. Little things to appreciate, at the very least.

Long-term goals may be vague, but things aren't completely at a loss. There's still a Kiba to find, and Neji waiting for me at home. Everything will be fine, as long as I don't think about it too much.

Authors Note: I originally planned for this to be a short chapter, but then it completely got away from me. Oops?

I greatly appreciate any reviews! Comments make me doubly inspired to write.