Prologue :: Leaving

My name is Hyuuga Hinata. This is my story: Of terror and blood; fears and fighting; love and war. It is a recount of The Battle Within. What I did, I cannot take back. I do not regret it. It was something I had to do, but I wished I didn’t have to then and still sometime wish it hadn’t come to that. It’s something no one ever expected from me. It was all premeditated in my mind. No one else had to know; no one else ever knew until now. There was nothing else I felt I could do at that point. Everything was wrong. I had to fix it. I thought I could change the way things were. Maybe… Just maybe. But I also had to make them proud. I had to get to them somehow. I was ready to be noticed, tired of hiding in the shadows. This was the only way I saw I could do it.

My name is Hyuuga Hinata. This is my story.

***

“Good night, Hanabi,” I wished my younger sister as I tucked the blanket in around her small body and kissed her lightly on the forehead, brushing the hair away from her face. I righted myself from the kneeling position I held over my sister and started for the doors, listening as Hanabi rolled around to get comfortable on her bed. When I reached them I slid them apart and slipped my thin body through the gap.

“Good night, Onee-san,” Hanabi mumbled just before I closed the rice doors. Her words were soft and slow from the sleep that was laying heavily over her. She mumbled the words, her face pressed into her pillow as she was now lying on her stomach. I took a long look back at her sleeping silhouette as she fell asleep before closing the doors.

I slid them shut and held onto the frame, grasping it and lightly touching my head to the joint where the two slides met, closing my light lavender eyes and holding back tears. 'I won’t break down… not here, not yet,' I thought to myself. Pulling away from the door, I loosened my grip on the frame, letting my hands fall limply to my sides, and made the familiar trek to my bedroom down the hall.

When the doors to my room were closed tightly, I stepped lightly over toward my wardrobe in the corner of the room. I opened the old wooden doors and knelt down in front of it, reaching in and lifting up the base, revealing the false bottom and its contents. The thin panel creaked as I lifted it up and it bowed as the front came up and the back stuck firmly in place, wedged tightly between the sturdy sides of the cupboard. When the contents, what looked like a small pouch, had been extracted from the bottom, I slid the plank back into place. Even as careful as I was, the operation was still making more noise than I would have like, the plank creaking and scraping against the sides of the cabinet. But, I figured, Father and Neji-niisan were asleep enough by then that they wouldn’t hear me.

I took the strap on the small bag and came up off the floor. Still staying low I made my way over to the small desk Father had bought me several years earlier that resided in the opposite corner of my room and fell back to my knees. “The pampered first daughter from the main branch of the honorable Hyuuga clan,” Neji-niisan’s words ran through my head as my fingers traced the familiar pattern of slight relief created by the painting that had been delicately applied so many years ago today. “Happy Birthday, Daughter,” my father had said in his non-emotional, unattached voice. “I had this hand crafted for you in the Sand village and it was painted by the most famous artist in all of the five great villages,” he had said before explaining that it would be taken to my room for me and leaving. I had thought it the most grandiose gift I had ever received at that moment and thanked him many times over. As the years progressed its value never faltered. It was the only genuine gift I had ever gotten from my father since Hanabi had become his prized daughter. “Well,” I thought with a smirk, “I won’t be known as the pampered Hyuuga girl any more.”

I reached into my small backpack I had prepared for the trip and dug up the scroll, ink, and pen that had fallen to the bottom of the pile since I had packed it. As I brought them out and undid the scroll to unroll it on the desk in front of me I noticed my hands were shaking slightly. I was suddenly aware of the hot tears that were beating at the back of my eyelids, begging to be freed. I struggled to get the ink cap off but refused to cry. “I will be strong. This is my choice. No one is telling me what to do now.” I touched the pen to the parchment and began to write, my handwriting scratchy from my shaking hands. When I neared the end, I saw a small wet spot appear on the paper, making the ink run a little. I reached up and touched my eyes, both of them watering, blurring my vision. I signed my name and added my afterthought in the form of a PS quickly, then rolled the scroll back up, leaving it on my desk with the capped ink and pen lying next to it.

I threw the thin, worn straps of my bag over my shoulders and made my way to the door, easily keeping quiet without my shoes on. I opened the rice doors to my room almost silently, just enough for me to slip through, then closed them again, being sure to get them completely shut without making any noise. When they were closed I turned my back and walked inaudibly down the hall, making my way to the front of the house. At the front entrance I slipped on my shoes and left without looking back at my home.

I continued all the way through Konoha, trying hard not to chicken out. I had to do this. If not now, then I never would. I kept moving, averting my eyes from anything that might change my mind; the academy building, the training grounds, the ramen stand, his apartment building… There I definatly had to resist stopping and staring, just to look at his window, knowing he was there inside. As I passed the tears started falling. This time I didn’t try and stop them from coming and they fell to my feet. I could see the small dark spots they made in the dirt as I walked with my head down.

When I reached the front gate to the village I lifted my head. Two more steps forward and I would be considered a rogue ninja. I turned to face my home… Everything I was leaving behind. I thought of my friends, my teammates, my comrades, my family, my love. I cringed at the latter, redirecting my eyes to the horizon where the Hokage’s mansion sat against a background of the mountain with the faces of previous Konoha rulers’ faces. They were carved into its rocky face, the moonlight trickling over all the crevices in the stone and dancing over their faces.

I turned to face the darkened forest that lay before me. I had left the village on countless occasions; missions, vacations, etc. But this time it was different. There were higher stakes this time… And I didn’t have a team to back me up. There was no one but me to look after now, and no one would have to look after me anymore. ”Happy seventeenth birthday, Hinata-san,” I told myself. As I leapt forward, the faces of my home’s heroes seemed to watch as I disappeared, engulfed by the darkness of the midnight forest.