A/N: Although I never put "Author's Notes", because I feel they generally are useless and ignore them as much as I possibly can, I felt it necessary to explain a few things. Although I am a rabid SasuSaku shipper, neither Sakura nor Sasuke are my favorite characters. Hinata is. Up until this point I've generally chosen (for the most part- and here I reference 'Dolls') not to write Hinata because I wanted her characterization to be precise. In this piece, I tried to do that. Hinata is not a blushing imbecile turned fearless and empowered sex-goddess in this piece. You've been warned.

And speaking of that...

I really should put these, though I feel the rating should suffice. All the same...

Warnings: Voy, Solo

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DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN IT.

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I am quiet, but I am also solid.

Father stares through me- when I am with him, I do not exist.

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I kneel beside father as he speaks with the head of a clan distantly related to the former Uchiha clan. They too specialize in a sharigan-like bloodline limit.

They are fair skinned and fair eyed.

The head of the other clan sits across from father.

Father ignores me.

I pour their tea.

Father stares through me. I do not exist.

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I wander through the halls. Feel the wallpaper under my hands, feel the carpet under my flat slippers. Feel the cold air.

And then I hear the noises, and I blush.

The heat crawls under my skin, licks at my insides.

I creep to Neji's door. It is cracked open.

I am silent, invisible.

Neji sits with Ten-Ten straddling his lap. Her hair is released and tumbling down her shoulders. Her head is lowered, her body language submissive.

Neji murmurs something to her. She shivers.

Although I can not see it, I know he is unbuttoning her shirt.

My mouth goes dry.

I back away- think of warm grass. Think of a blanket spread out on the ground, sun glowing on my bare skin. Think of Naruto's blue blue blue eyes.

My whole body seems to disconnect, a strange rushing of warmth in my stomach. I put my hand there. Not quite low enough.

I push my hand down further. Not far enough.

I twitch.

'I am solid', I remind myself.

This moment is frozen in place and I realize with a sudden clarity what this is. How come I have never felt it before?

Arousal. Clear and bright as polished silver.

I flee silently to my room. Close the door. Lock it.

I throw clothing off, desperate to relieve the growing ache.

I feel guilty. Dirty.

I am naked on my bed save for my bra- a strap slipping off in timid rebellion- and my socks.

I gather the blankets between my legs and squeeze my thighs.

Maybe if I am not using my hands, I am not doing anything wrong.

There is a pulse of warmth, but nothing more.

I squeeze my eyes shut and sob, rubbing my closed fists over my face.

I clench my thighs a second time and, again, feel the warmth. I arch my back and pull my hair. I breathe in and out slowly and regain my calm.

I set a rhythm.

I move the blanket out of the way when it is not enough. I think of Naruto again, slide my hands over myself and darkness gathers in my vision.

I am Invisible.

Invisible.

I think of Naruto's rough palms and sun-kissed skin.

I think of his eyes on me, watching me, at this very moment.

And then there is Sakura and Naruto is watching her.

I am Invisible.

Black flashes in front of my eyes. My muscles tense. I am done.

I collapse on the sheets. My ears are ringing and I am coated in sweat. My thighs are raw.

I curl into myself and cry.

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In the morning I am dazed, but I shower and dress quickly, then meet my team to train.

Akamaru acts strangely around me. My back feels sweaty and itchy when I think that maybe he could smell it on me.

It.

What I had done.

If that was the case, Kiba could smell it too.

I glance at Kiba who is meditating, and then at Shino who is sharpening Kunai. We are on break.

I feel lethargic and anxious.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back.

I think of questions and conversations. I think about the movement of a pair of lips as sound comes out.

I feel an urge to say something. I say nothing.

I open my eyes.

"There aren't-," I whisper, "-any clouds today."

If Shino and Kiba hear me, they choose not to respond.

'I am solid', I remind myself.

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When I am back home again, I train with father. I remember most, of these times, the feeling of impact as I hit the ground over and over. I remember the jagged edges of rocks as they dig into me.

I see a flurry of movement, both his and mine, as I separate myself from our sparring.

I rise above us.

I can see us as we attack, counter, defend. I can see us but mostly I see me. I am losing ground quickly. I am out of breath and my chakra is low.

I see us both- but mostly I see me. And then I am invisible.

I fall to the ground on my hands and knees, panting heavily.

Father stares through me. I do not exist.

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'I am solid,' I think to myself. The bright lights of the carnival dance over my eyes. I am out alone.

There are gay colors and a belligerent cacophony of happy noises. I am drowning in scent- roasted meat, spicy cinnamon, plastic, candied apples, gasoline, vomit, fermenting trash, human sweat, cheap perfume...

And though it is night, I find it to be too bright, too lively, for my tastes.

I smile. Seek out familiar faces. Find none.

I content myself with a small snack of roasted peanuts and watching the children play games.

I am sitting on a bench. I am ignored.

'I am solid', I remind myself.

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In the morning I pick myself up from the bench and promptly throw up. The contents of my stomach spatter on the ground, half digested.

I wipe my mouth and sit up. The booths are all closed. My clothing is soaked in the morning dew.

The streets are empty. I am surprised to find that the chaffing on my thighs from it hasn't healed quite yet.

It is painful to walk because I am stiff and my skin is raw.

It is the odd time of morning where everything is painted a hazy gray-blue. I still feel nauseous.

Remnants of last night's festivities float in the streets- bright fliers, shiny decorations, a child's shoe, candy wrappers, napkins, a clothing hanger, torn tickets...

I find a barrette and pick it up. I should be repulsed at the thought of handling this object, but I am not. I clip my bangs back and continue. I reach the end of the road and find myself at Ichiraku's.

I quickly seek out a glimpse of Naruto.

He is there.

I blush and try to straighten my hair. I frown. I feel sick again. I will the feeling to pass. I walk past him.

I am invisible.

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"Hinata?," comes his tired voice.

I freeze.

"Hinata is that you? Wow, that kimono is pretty! What are you doing up so early?"

My skin feels alive. I am electrified. I remember it and try to stop the twitching of my fingers.

I suddenly feel exhausted and exuberant all at once. I turn around.

"G-good m-m-morning, N-naruto-k-kun," I stutter. I hate the silence between the syllables, I hate the clumsy way I form the words. I hate the way his voice is clear and rings like a bell. I hate that I feel myself fading.

"Hinata, you look pale. Are you hungry? You want to share with me?," he asks with a grin.

I swallow. My saliva is sticky, my tongue is as thick and flacid as salt-water taffy.

I am no longer invisible, but I am paling under the intense weight of his observation. My heart beats sluggishly. My throat constricts.

I open my mouth to speak but no sound sound comes out. I clamp my jaw shut in despair. I open my mouth again, but I feel too light-headed.

The ground is rushing up to catch me. Naruto cries out in surprise. I am already past cognitive functions.

My eyes roll back.

I feel the impact.

The last thing I see as I slip under is a bright pair of blue eyes.

'Solid...,' I think to myself.

'I am solid.'