Lost Moments

By: Lynn Metallium

Disclaimer: I don't own anything (Naruto or Enya!). I'm nothing but a poor little American girl who had to spend all of her money on college and therefore even if you sued me you wouldn't get any money anyway. So please don't get mad and hurt me Xx;;

Song:

A Lost Moment

Enya

Prologue

Thin trembling fingers wrapped themselves around the rough handle of the blade lying on the quilted bed. Although the night was silent and the woman seated cross-legged on the bed knew that everyone in the household was asleep, she still glanced around the darkened room studying the shadows, half expecting someone to step out and lay a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Yet nothing like that happened and she felt her heart clench. There was no one that knew and therefore no one would come.

A silent sob came from her pale lips as her fingers tightened on the blade. The moonlight streaming in her window from the court yard made the blade shine and wink at her. Her only friend was the nighttime now, no matter how she knew the people she had grown to have an acquaintance with during the day hours would protest.

"Don't be silly! We are all your friends!"

She winced at her thoughts and suddenly found that her hand was trembling so hard that her hand was unable to keep its grip. The handle slid between her fingers, bouncing off of the bed and hitting the wooden floor with a clatter. Her body froze as a feeling of guilt rushed through her veins. Although no warning signs that someone had awoke to the noise came, she still remained still on the bed for some time listening to the calls of the crickets and frogs.

Was this right of her? She knew they, her 'friends' would say no but her heart cried yes so deeply she could hardly listen to any other rational thoughts. Could people care who did not know her? Could she blame people for not knowing her when she only showed the social face, the shy public face? No one knew her private face….Maybe one person…long ago…But he no longer had the patience for the weak woman she had become. No one in the Hyuuga clan had time for a woman who could not hold her own. That was not why they were born. No Hyuuga, male or female was born to look pretty, they were bred to fight and kill. Destroy. It was the same for any great clan in the village and times like now she wished she had never been born into one. She was not worthy.

She moved herself from the bed, retrieving the blade and holding it with a steadier hand than before. Her resolve had since become stronger as her thoughts had taken a different turn.

Punishment. That was what she deserved for blackening the name of Hyuuga. How dare she even be born into this life? How dare her body betray her family, herself and create such a painful hole in the clan. It was an unforgivable sin and for that she must be punished.

Although it was true that her father had pushed her hard as a child, never once had he truly raised a hand to strike her out of pure malice. He hated that she was weak and that was why their mother had bore Hanabi. Even though she would still be heir, there was always hope that she, the weaker, would die before she could take the seat of power. In all actuality, Hiashi had hoped for a son. He did not complain when Hanabi had been born and when she had proved to be the stronger he had placed all his broken hopes on her.

"He still wishes I would die…" A soft whisper left her lips, the first words to come from her mouth in many hours since the sun had set. She gave a hollow laugh, the sound ringing in the room, yet this time there was no fear in her eyes that someone would awaken and catch her awake.

The sting in her arm only came several seconds after the cold blade had made contact with her skin, there was always the delay of feeling as she sliced. Across, across, across, the knife rushed over the pale skin leaving thin lines that quickly started to blossom a crimson color. Five, six, seven….She counted quickly to herself as each line appeared in her arm and a shiver went down her spine as the blood started to dribble down her arm. If only she could carve the weakness out of her…

A furious cry came from her lips as she pressed the blade, slick with her blood into her arm. Carve it out and make it leave her! Make her perfect….A person worth this blood!

The blade fell from her hand once again, clattering on the ground, spattering blood onto the floor as she fell in a painful mess onto the mattress. Pressing her arm to her chest she sobbed. The pain here was nothing like the pain in her heart. Tears fell into her pillow as she pressed her face into the material letting out a muffled cry of frustration. She would never rise above this. She was too weak.