Quotes:

Anxiety - The fear of being laughed at makes cowards of us all ~ Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960.

Anger - No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched. – George Jean Nathan.

Hinata was always wary of the fine china. She tried to move slowly, gracefully, like her father had taught her, but she became clumsy when she worried about breaking something.

Today, she slowly placed her fragile cup down, using her little finger to muffle the clinking sound it made against the table, all too aware of her father's hard stare as she did so. Sitting next to her, Hanabi took a casual, easy sip of her drink. She never broke anything, and always looked away with a smile when the expected crash occurred near Hinata.

"Neji, I am finished with my tea." Hiashi spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking the silence harshly, nearly startling a gasp from Hinata who managed to stifle it with her handkerchief.

Neji sat in the corner of the room on a hard, wooden chair. He gave his uncle a murderous glare but unfolded himself, his long legs managing to have more grace in their movements than Hinata's delicate fingers.

He plucked Hiashi's cup and saucer from his lax grip and whirled around with the effortless grace of a waiter in a five star hotel, his long hair a shimmering arc as he spun on the spot, illuminated by the sun.

"Thank you, Hiashi-sama," Neji bowed as deeply as the cup and saucer would allow, all traces of his glare removed from his face, now looking blankly servile as his uncle paid him a small amount of attention.

Hiashi waved a careless hand, not bothering to hide his annoyance. There was nothing Neji could ever do to please him, simply being himself, Hiashi's nephew, was enough to cause constant irritation for the man.

"Hinata, you have finished," Hiashi snapped, making her jump, "Why do you never speak up? Neji, take her cup."

Hinata squirmed in her seat. It was always the same. She could open her mouth, move her lips, but forcing the sound out was near impossible. She was terrified of saying the wrong thing, of her voice being croaky or loud, of embarrassing herself as she always did.

Neji reached over her and seized her cup with a baleful glare. She froze in her seat, words of thanks drying in her mouth.

You can do it, she thought, just say… thank you…

She opened her mouth. Her father was glaring at her; Neji was looking more and more mutinous by the second as she failed to dismiss him. If she didn't dismiss him verbally, unless she waved her hand, Neji would be forced to remain by her side until she released him from his duty. She could not wave so dismissively, as was her father's wont, but she couldn't force out the two words: thank you. Not with her father and cousin glaring at her.

She felt herself break out in a cold sweat. I can do it, she reminded herself…

Thank… you…

"One moment," Hanabi said sharply, tipping her cup back and drinking the lot in one go, "I have also finished, Neji-nii-san. You are dismissed."

Thank you.

Hinata was shaking by that point, she turned grateful eyes on her younger sister, who shrugged, her only acknowledgement of Hinata's gratitude were her quirked lips.

Hiashi sneered at his oldest child's ineptitude.

"When are you going to start taking your responsibilities seriously, Hinata?" He demanded, "One day you will be married, and you will be required to be well-versed in etiquette, running an entire household of your own. How can you manage that when you don't speak?"

He punctuated his last word by thumping the table with his fist, Hanabi's cup tipping to the floor with a tinkling crash.

"Why didn't you take her cup?" He bellowed at Neji, who bore his anger with a mild look of distaste.

"My apologies, Hiashi-sama," He murmured, placing the other cups safely in the kitchen, returning to sweep up the remains of the china.

Hinata tried to force out I'm sorry, Otou-sama, but the words would not come. The anger in Hiashi's eyes died down and his expression turned into disappointment.

"Why won't you try harder?" He asked, sounding frustrated, "As my heir, you will need to learn how to make speeches, motivate the workforce and generally become a capable leader. The way you are now… you need help."

"What do you suggest, Hiashi-sama?" Neji asked. For all his glares and cutting comments, there were times when Hinata believed he may actually care about her. He looked uneasy.

Hanabi wiped her mouth delicately, her eyes keen and perceptive.

"My mother." Hiashi declared finally, "She'll straighten her out in no time. She isn't one to allow laziness or shyness, whichever ailment plagues my daughter will be eradicated in no time."

Hinata had met her grandmother a few times when she was small, but her father had had a huge row with her a few years back and refused to see her again. Why would he want her to help Hinata?

Hanabi was obviously thinking the same, "Father, I understand that Grandmother is a very intelligent woman, but I believed you were no longer in contact with each other?"

Hinata so envied her younger sister. Tactful, pretty, intelligent and she could speak so eloquently…

Their father sighed and toyed with his napkin, "We speak on occasion. At any rate, she is the best person for the job. She will have Hinata talking in no time. That means I want you to actually try here, Hinata. Look at me. You will not be rude to your grandmother. You will answer her when she speaks to you. You will not embarrass me. Do you understand me?"

Hanabi's jaw clenched noticeably and Neji looked away from Hinata's reddening face.

She opened her mouth. I understand. I do. Please, let me say the words. I understand.

Her throat ached as though invisible hands were squeezing it. Tears came to her eyes. She looked down at her lap, at her hands gripping each other, feeling her father's glare like a physical presence. Her face was hot and wet and she still couldn't force the words out.

"For God's sake!" Hiashi exploded up from the table, slamming his chair back and storming from the room, but not before he took the last piece of her self-esteem and crushed it with his words, "Why was I cursed with such a useless daughter?"

The door slammed behind him with a bang that echoed throughout the room.

Hanabi and Neji were silent.

Hinata couldn't even move, couldn't run from the room to cry in her room, could only sit in her hard, wooden seat, feeling the shame and humiliation burn through her.

Useless.

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"I'm sure no one even remembers anymore," Ino said breezily, pushing Sakura through the corridor without giving her a chance to run, "Don't worry about it."

Sakura was about to reply when a group of girls walked past her, arm in arm and giggling almost hysterically. She shot them a glare and they squeaked, speeding up until they were out of reach.

"Sure," Sakura said dryly, "I'm sure they've all forgotten all about it."

"And we've reached Haruno Sakura's locker, thus concluding the tour of Craziest Landmarks in Konoha Progressive High School. See the fist-shaped dent and marvel at the sheer amount of crazy it must have taken to dent metal with your bare hand." Inuzuka Kiba called out loudly, the group of guys he was with chuckling away, clustered around her locker, casting glances her way.

"Ah!" Kiba said suddenly, acting as though he had only just spotted her, "The crazy herself approaches! Sakura!" He mimed thrusting a microphone in her face, "How did it feel to be named Most Likely to Run Someone Over this year? Do you own a car?"

"If you don't piss off," Sakura hissed through her clenched teeth, "I will ram a car down your fucking throat and drive you down the highway."

Kiba burst out laughing, "Wahaha! God, Sakura, I'm actually terrified! The plausibility of that threat alone is spine-chilling!"

He reached over to mess up her hair, still laughing. She grabbed his wrist and tried to twist it painfully, but annoyingly enough, he danced out of the way.

Ino, a veritable fountain of calm and placidity, tried to intervene, "Look, Kiba, Sakura's had a stressful couple of months and I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you –"

"Died in a fucking hole!" Sakura snapped.

Ino winced. She tried again, "- if you respected her enough to leave her alone."

Sakura's gut was boiling. The sight of Kiba and his friends killing themselves laughing over her was enough to set her off. She wanted to strike out, hit them until they stopped laughing and took her seriously –

"I can't respect a foul-mouthed, angry spoilt little brat who is just pissed her daddy won't up her allowance by a mere few thousand." Kiba put on a high voice, placing his hand on his hip, "But Daddy, I need that car! I'm bored with my six jeeps and my Mercedes! I want a tank, Daddy, why won't you buy me a tank? I hate you Daddy, now I'll have to drive a boring two month old car, urgh, you just don't understand me!"

Sakura lunged for him, dodging Ino when she shrieked and tried to pull her back. Kiba's amused expression dropped slightly as she came at him, fist drawn back, waiting for the strike and the flood of wonderful adrenaline –

It never came.

A blur intervened, leaping in between her and Kiba, grabbing her wrist and shoving him backwards.

An unhealthily thin male with a shock of blood-red hair stood before her, her wrist locked in his grip. He was pale, skin the colour of paper and just as fragile by the look of it. He had odd tattoos on his face – black circled around his piercing green eyes, and the word 'love' written in red on his forehead.

"Don't," He rasped, not looking her in the eye, "It isn't worth it."

Kiba had backed up by this point, his eyes rounded in shock, "Woah." He said, sounding as stunned by the appearance of the strange guy as she was.

"Get off of me!" Sakura tried to rip her arm free, but his grip was stupidly strong.

"Yeah, freak, get away from my best friend!" Ino shrieked, pushing the boy away. So much for the fountain of calm.

Maybe she was still feeling overprotective.

The boy shrugged off Ino's attempts to pry his hand off of Sakura's wrist.

"Are you the girl with the anger management issues?" The boy asked seriously, still not meeting her angry gaze.

Was that how she was known? Or did she have 'anger' tattooed on her forehead the way he had love?

"No," She spat, "Get off me."

Kiba snorted, having evidently gotten over his shock, "Yeah, she's got issues alright."

"I wasn't talking to you." The boy replied, his voice cold and hard, "If I let go of you, girl, will you attack him?"

Sakura felt like scolded child, squirming in embarrassment and shame in front of her father. She clenched her mouth shut against the tidal wave of angry words that wanted to flood out and nodded stiffly.

He let go of her wrist.

"If you believe she has anger management issues, why do you antagonise her?" The boy turned to Kiba, looking unimpressed, "Do you desire attention so greatly you need to anger people just so you feel noticed?"

Judging by the sudden redness of Kiba's cheeks, the strange boy had hit the nail on the head.

"Shut up!" Kiba yelled, "You don't know me!"

The boy shrugged carelessly and turned back to Sakura. He frowned and opened his palm. A snapped green band lay there, rubber and useless.

"I'm sorry, was this yours?" The boy held out the band that he had accidently broken off of her wrist.

The words 'HOPE, FAITH, COURAGE, STRENGTH,' were printed on the band.

She looked at it, horrified, and snatched it out of his palm. It had snapped neatly, she could maybe glue it back together, but she'd been wearing it for so long now… it had been a constant presence, the only thing that got her through –

Her arm felt bare and naked without it.

"You bastard…" Her voice was low and shaky, her fist had clenched automatically and even as the rage poured through her, the fact that her instinctive reaction to anger was to get ready to hit out scared the crap out of her.

"Sakura." Ino said quietly, putting her hand on her shoulder, "It's OK. He didn't mean it."

Kiba was staring at her. So were his friends, and the strange guy. She'd had enough of being stared at like a caged animal in a zoo. She knew what would happen. She'd storm off and they'd all turn to each other, wide-eyed and mock-solemn, though they'd be delighted to have something to gossip about for a while, and her reputation would take another knock. The state her reputation was in, she didn't think it could take a gentle tap, let alone a knock.

The strange boy was staring at her like he was reading her mind.

And suddenly, she didn't want to break anything, hit out or scream. She just wanted to get away. There was no point in running. They'd only follow her.

"I'm sorry for getting mad." She said dully, eyes on the floor, "I can buy a new wristband. Thanks for stopping me."

"C'mon, Ino, I want to have lunch before the bell." She said quietly, slowly rubbing the letters on the band with her fingers. She took a deep breath. I am calm. I am fine.

Ino smiled at her, "Sure! Oh, one thing…"

She turned around and kicked Kiba on the shin, hard. He nearly fell over, clutching his leg, looking agonised, "What the hell, Ino?" He shouted, hopping.

"Oh please," Ino's pale eyebrow flickered upwards in disdain, eyes trailing down his leg, "I could have aimed slightly higher and really done some damage. Stay away from us or you'll be sorry."

"Oh, so crazy is contagious now, is it? You used to be a nice girl." Kiba huffed.

Ino joined Sakura, slipping her arm in hers, grinning at her cheerfully. Sakura turned her head as they walked down the hall together.

The strange boy was examining the sign above her locker that said 'Haruno Sakura, Year 11.' It was unmistakeably her locker, given that there was a fist-shaped dent right in the middle of it.

He looked back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. He mouthed, "Deep breaths, Sakura."

She nodded very slightly and breathed in. She plastered a smile on her face and turned to Ino, "Thanks for sticking up for me, Ino."

The other girl looked pleasantly surprised.

"No problem, Forehead Girl," Ino mashed their cheeks together, grinning, surprising a giggle out of Sakura, "I'm starving! I hope all the healthy stuff hasn't gone already, again."

And as much as she would have liked to spend ages chatting to Ino about inane issues in their lives, her brain was stuck on one subject: the strange boy.

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It was raining again. Hinata sat in the cafeteria, looking out of the window. The basketball court was right outside, abandoned by the players. It looked quite lonely. She suddenly had a mad desire to go outside and stand on the court, just so the picture would look less lonely. But then again, with her there, it would probably look even sadder.

Her thoughts were growing maudlin again. She turned her attention to the plate in front of her. A single, limp sandwich. White bread, soggy lettuce, too-pink meat. Somehow unappetising.

Her stomach growled, so she picked up the sad little lunch and prepared to take a bite.

"Argh, Sasuke, I'm soaking!" A voice suddenly burst out. A blonde, very tanned male slipped by her table dressed in a basketball uniform, "Why did no one tell me practice was cancelled?"

"Because we assumed you'd be smart enough to look out the window and work it out for yourself." A dark-haired male replied calmly, eating a slice of pizza.

Hinata looked at his pizza. Her stomach growled louder. She dropped the sandwich.

If she could just… walk up to the dinner ladies and say to them, "Can I have pizza, please?"

Then she'd be happier.

But it was so much easier said than done. Just walking to the fridge where they kept the pre-made sandwiches was hard enough, feeling everyone's eyes on her back as she walked, she couldn't imagine opening her mouth and letting the words flow out.

She hadn't said a word in two months. She didn't know how the time had passed so quickly, but she couldn't even remember what the last thing she had said was – she just knew it had been to her father, and he hadn't liked it.

Why was she the useless one? She was the eldest. She was supposed to be the confident, capable older sister that Hanabi could look up to. Even Neji looked down on her.

The table she sat at was long and white, smeared with the remains of the last people who'd sat there, crumbs and sauce everywhere. She'd chosen this table because she knew quite well that no one would sit at such a messy table except her. She could sit alone in peace.

Except it wasn't peaceful. The people around her talked all at once, their voices blending into one big, senseless roar that made her want to cover her ears and silently scream.

For God's sake, she couldn't even buy her own lunch! She found it damn near impossible, passing the dinner lady the sandwich she had chosen under pressure, waiting as she scanned it, illogically convinced she wouldn't have enough money and would be forced to put the sandwich back, in front of everyone. But of course, that never happened and she always felt stupid for worrying afterwards.

She pictured her father's face if he knew just how stupid and useless she really was on the inside. The thought of it made her clutch her head and silently groan.

But when her arms moved, her plate tipped over the edge of the table. She desperately grabbed for it, but it slipped to the floor with what seemed to be a deafening crash.

Everyone stared at her.

She froze.

Her face boiled red, her hands shook and her stomach churned.

And then, a voice rang out in the silence, "Hey, sorry about your lunch! Wanna come share mine? It's ramen!"

It was the tanned, blonde boy.

He was grinning at her from his table, oblivious to her terror and shame.

She was fixed to the seat. She couldn't move. Everyone was watching.

"Aw, come on!" He called, evidently taking her silence as a rejection, "Your table's dirty too! There's a seat right here!" He pointed to the red stool beside him.

She wanted to. She wanted more than anything to be able to get up and walk calmly to his table, to sit beside him and make small talk, to say cool, witty things that would make the whole table laugh, to share pizza and ramen and friends.

But she couldn't –

But then, she saw it. His grin lit up his whole face like he meant it with every fibre of his being, and it was meant for her. He was looking at her like he wanted nothing more than for her to come sit with him too.

It was like a magnet. Like a ray of sunlight had fallen upon her on that dreary, wet day, and she suddenly wanted to bask in the warm and glory of it.

She felt herself stand. His smile widened.

Her legs felt like someone had replaced them with marshmallow. Every step was numb and wobbly.

She reached the table after what seemed like an age and managed to slowly sit down next to him. He smelt like the rain outside and of ramen.

"Hi!" He beamed at her, "What took you so long? I'm Uzumaki Naruto, the best student this school's ever seen! Who're you?"

The dark-haired boy was looking too. Naruto's beam was wide and friendly.

Everyone else in the room had gone back to what they were doing, chatting and picking at their food.

Her throat ached again, that familiar, frustrating pain she felt whenever she tried to force the words out.

She could do it.

She pictured Hanabi as she had appeared yesterday. The younger girl had been busily buzzing about in her sister's room, picking out clothes for the next day under the pretext of not trusting her sister's fashion sense, in reality so she didn't worry she was wearing something stupid.

"Hinata," Hanabi had said firmly, "There's no reason to let Father get to you. He's very difficult to please. This thing with Grandmother won't last. A few short meetings and that'll be it. If you don't want to talk, don't. It's overrated, anyway. Fools talk loudly, don't they? People with too many intelligent thoughts never talk because they're busy having stimulating conversation with themselves in their head. If you want to talk, you can do it. I believe in you."

Naruto was still grinning at her.

She took a deep breath and let her stiff shoulders relax, forcing the tension out.

She opened her mouth.

"I-" She managed, her voice cracked and croaky. Naruto looked encouraging, "I-I'm H-Hinata."

"Hi, Hinata-chan!" Naruto said cheerfully, "Let's be friends!"

She did it. She spoke.

For the first time in what felt like ages, she smiled, a very tiny, shy little smile.

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Right.

Always wanted to write about this sort of thing. Have never wrote from Hinata's presence even though I adore her, wanted to rectify that.

I thought that some mental issues could be applied to several Naruto characters, but when I thought of Hinata and Sakura, I immediately thought, anxiety and anger.

Their behaviour could be exaggerated very easily and turned into something more complex, I thought.

If Hinata reached the age of sixteen without ever meeting Naruto, without even being able to train as an outlet for her emotions, I thought her emotionally abusive father would verbally beat down her self-esteem, to the point where she might have selective mutism and social anxiety disorder.

If Sakura was pushed too far by certain things, I thought her anger could overcome her and become a real issue, so she now has anger issues.

I think I can adequately portray social anxiety disorder, but I'm not a very angry person, so I'm a bit worried about Sakura. If any readers suffer from anger issues or SAD, would you mind sharing your experiences and feelings with me? It would help the story's depth and realism, I think.

Kiba's an attention seeker, at least in Gaara's eyes.

Whenever I thought of Sakura whilst writing this, I thought her feelings were basically - angry everything and nothing, filled with rage with nothing to be angry at, just so angry and frustrated with the world, like being in a black hole where all emotion is crushed by your anger. I also thought she'd be very, very lonely and misunderstood.

Hinata's a desperately lonely character. She needs friends to rely on, but can't pluck up the courage to interact with anyone and forge friendships with them. Her father wants her to be better at everything, especially speaking, and she feels that she can never be the person he wants her to be. So, a lot of sadness and self-hatred.

Gaara's a mystery. Seemingly emotionless on the outside, a whole different person on the inside. His stoic, mostly calm nature might be just the thing that Sakura needs to put out that burning anger she has inside of her constantly.

Naruto is a simple, happy, adorable guy. He's got a big ego but doesn't know it, he genuinely thinks he's the best at everything when in fact he's mostly average. His bright enthusiasm and optimism might be the beacon that can light up Hinata's dark life.

When Hinata said something along these lines in the manga to Naruto: Your smile saved me!

I felt I understood her love for Naruto for the first time. With any luck, I can replicate her feelings in this fic.

I understand that Sakura in particular is quite OOC, but her anger and tough façade mask the true person within, who is much more similar to the canon version of her.

It's GaaSaku and NaruHina, naturally, but feel free to suggest other pairings :)

It won't all be darkness and angst, but issues are the driving force of this story. That, and romance! :D

Please let me know what you think of the story so far.

Quick poll for fun: Who is the fictional character you relate to the most?

No suggestions.