Sitting by the window was a girl with short dark blue hair wearing a simple long jacket and pants.
Her face held a perpetually shy expression, soft and gentle. Painfully introverted.
Her deskmate had been talking to her for several minutes, but the dark blue-haired girl kept her head lowered the entire time, responding only in whispers barely above a breath.
"Hinata, can you please look at me when I'm talking to you..." Her tablemate sounded exasperated.
"S-sorry..." The girl named Hinata finally raised her head. Her pale lavender eyes looked apologetic as she made a small squeaking sound of distress.
"Never mind, forget it..." Seeing Hinata like this, her deskmate gave up. But the girl had always been chatty by nature, and soon she was talking to herself again.
At least Hinata never complained about her being long-winded.
In truth, Hinata wasn't hearing a word her classmate said. A certain figure occupied her entire mind, and just thinking about that person made heat rush to her cheeks.
She glanced toward the classroom door. He hadn't arrived yet.
A second later, she ducked her head again, afraid of being caught looking. Her face burned even hotter.
After a few heartbeats, Hinata peeked at the door once more.
This pattern repeated itself several times.
Finally, the person she'd been hoping to see appeared.
What happened to his face?
Hinata's chest tightened with worry. How did he get hurt? She desperately wanted to go to him, but she didn't dare. She could barely manage to peek at him without her heart trying to escape her ribcage.
She watched him make his way to his seat.
No one greeted him along the way. He didn't greet anyone either. But strangely, the way he looked at their classmates seemed almost... friendly. Like he saw potential friends where others saw nothing worth noticing.
Hinata didn't understand it.
She only knew that he was injured now, and she wanted to... The moment she considered doing something so bold, her heart hammered frantically against her ribs, threatening to burst free.
Class began. Hinata didn't hear a single word of Iruka-sensei's lecture. Her eyes and her thoughts drifted constantly to the boy named Uzumaki Naruto.
Memories surfaced, awakened by his presence.
Three years ago.
At a very young age, the Hyuga clan had placed enormous expectations on Hinata's shoulders. The adults piled their ambitions for the family's revival onto a child far too small to carry such weight.
Young Hinata's learning tasks were heavy, her schedule packed. She had almost no time to play.
She yearned to run free like other children, to laugh without purpose, to waste time on pointless games. But she alone couldn't. The family was strict. Study and training consumed her days.
Practice Gentle Fist. Study clan techniques. Meet expectations.
Hinata wanted desperately to master Gentle Fist. If she could, maybe she'd see her father smile. Maybe Hiashi would finally praise her.
"Hinata, you're amazing. I'm so proud of you."
But reality was harsh. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't grasp the fundamentals. She saw the disappointment in her father's eyes.
Sometimes he said things that cut deeper than any blade.
I just want to make him proud. That's all.
Tears blurring her vision, Hinata fled from the compound.
She ran and ran, not knowing where she was going, until exhaustion stole the strength from her legs. She stumbled and fell hard.
Laughter erupted around her.
"Ha! You're as clumsy as a pig! Who trips over nothing?"
"What an idiot! She totally face-planted!"
Through tear-filled eyes, she saw a group of children surrounding her. Every single face wore the same expression: cruel amusement. They clutched their stomachs, laughing and pointing.
Is someone falling really that funny? The injustice of it mixed with her father's harsh words, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Um... can you stand up by yourself?"
The voice was young, uncertain.
Among all the mocking laughter, it sounded so different.
Hinata looked up. Through the water in her eyes, she saw a little boy standing in front of her. Short yellow hair stuck up at odd angles. His round face was trying very hard to look serious. And there, on both sides of his mouth, three whisker-like marks on each cheek.
Like a cat.
"Here..." Seeing that she hadn't moved, the boy looked briefly helpless before extending his hand.
Hinata reached out tentatively. His grip was firm and warm. He pulled, and she found herself standing.
"Thank you..." Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Mm." The boy's expression stayed cool, as if to say this was nothing worth mentioning. But Hinata could tell he was just putting on a brave face.
She wanted to say more, but the boy turned and walked away.
The moment he left, voices rose around her.
"That's the Nine-Tails brat..."
"It's him, it's him..."
"Hmph, as if the fox demon would actually be kind. He's probably planning something worse..."
Hinata stood frozen, listening to the poison in their words. She wanted to tell them they were wrong, that he wasn't what they thought.
But she was too timid.
Eventually, she went home. Yet she knew something with certainty: there was light in that boy's heart. Otherwise, he never would have helped her.
For a long time after that day, she never saw the little boy again. But she thought of him often. While practicing Gentle Fist. While eating dinner. While lying awake at night.
She thought of the hand he'd offered when she was on the ground.
Time passed. Three years slipped by like water.
This year, Hinata entered the Ninja Academy. She never expected the gift fate would give her.
They met again.
She learned his name.
Such a nice name.
Compared to three years ago, his demeanor had changed dramatically. He'd grown taller, his build more developed. Anyone else might not have recognized him.
But Hinata picked him out of the crowd instantly.
The one who'd reached out to her fallen self.
His temperament and appearance had transformed, but his eyes remained the same. Those eyes that held hidden light.
After seeing Naruto again, Hinata spent entire days in a distracted haze. At night, she couldn't sleep. When she finally did drift off, she'd wake and scold herself.
Why didn't I talk to him?
I didn't even tell him my name!
She'd introduced herself during class, but that didn't count. Names needed to be exchanged face-to-face, properly, for them to mean anything.
Her joy was short-lived.
The next day, Naruto didn't come to school. Or the day after that. Hinata's thoughts spiraled into worry and wild speculation.
Then, a few days ago, Naruto returned to class.
Hinata's world steadied. Life felt a little brighter. Her heart settled.
But now, seeing him walk into the classroom with bruises covering his face...
The worry started all over again.