L egend

O f

T he

U nderpaid

S hinobi

Chapter 0

Today was white day. I fanatically ravished the closet for something more suitable. During a little competition, I ripped a hole in my pants than ran home to fetch a new pair. I put on some dark ultramarine denim jeans, and ran out the door. I ran pass by father who usually sat quietly in his reading chair, paying no mind to me. I had these terrible shin splints, when I tried jumping down a large fleet of stairs. I took a momentary pause to rub tension on my shins, before I scurried to the main doors.

Hanabi, my little sister, had her head partly out the door and one hand on the doorknob. She was ready to slam the door at any given moment.

"Ok, bye now!" Hanabi almost smash a bouquet of sycamores as she shut the door. She tossed the flowers in nearby closets where a stock pile of hollyhocks, lilies, balloons, stuffed teddy bears, and every motley, heterogeneous prism, convoluted rainbow colors of roses imaginable. She was barely able to close the closet door.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"just another Hinata fan boy trying to get me to recite their haiku with two extra lines." Hanabi chuckled. "He tried to use screw driver and lime cake in one sentence. You really got them wrapped around your thumb, sis." I brushed my hair between my fingertips. My hair was tangled from the fight and held together with dry mud.

"Yeah, I'm sure, I sound perfect on paper." Why wouldn't I be? My dad has a hefty amount of political influence with a small army enough to start a civil war and I have D size cups! But paper is a flimsy thing that becomes transparent when you rub grease on it.

"Oh, c'mon sis, don't give me that and if you did give one of these guys a chance, than they would at least stop bothering us."

"But someone has to watch over the baby" adding a little salt to wound. I patted her head. "Good girl!"

"blah, sis… don't tell me, you still have a crush on what his face." The thought of azure irises and wide eye smile fill me with glee. "I don't know what you see in him. You know he is trained by the perverted frog sage?" Her verbal obloquies did nothing to my blissful reveries. "Last winter, I saw him get his tongue stuck on a frozen pole. Probably trying a caught fly."

"Well, he does live up to his blond hair."

"But seriously, sis. You are a Hyuuga, you can have anybody you want. I mean you're only young once." Well, these guys weren't bad guys to begin with. Some were sons of wealth families, war generals and occasionally sweet well-built dolphin trainer. I don't know; I never really understood the whole battle of sexist thing. Men are from Mars, women are from Venus. They might as well be on the other side of the Milky Way across a dark hole on a distance planet, Xenia VI hidden behind a quasar. I never had the thrill of having a boyfriend, never had my hand held, never been kissed. "Honesty, sis. you can buy and sell his ass, if you wanted to."

"But…"

"Honesty sis, you gotta go bed him or drop him, what you are doing is borderline psychopath." Hanabi said.

"but… Naruto did ask me to white day."

"Then what the hell are you doing here? It started hours ago."

"I came back for a change of clothes."

"wait, you are going to wear that?"

"why?" both our heads traced down my outfit. Some denim jeans and a t-shirt. "what wrong with it?"

"hello! It white day! It should be official shank day, how easy some of these women are. You have to dish out some good stuff." Hanabi started shoving up the upstairs. "you gotta put on some make up."

"what is father going to say? And I never used make up before." It was the first thought in my mind now that Hanabi knew.

"what he doesn't, it won't hurt him." I hit my ankle twice, since Hanabi forcing me up the stairs. "Let's see what you got in here?" she opened my closet door. I'm scared out of my mind from my father. I mean, Naruto isn't exactly Hyuuga material.

"When the last you went shopping?" Hanabi began tossing everything out of my closet. I would hear my father and friends talk about him. How much time Jiraya's time: he is wasting training Naruto. They often associate him with the bull frog, if you go near he is going to give you wards.

"oh, this looks good.

Flashback

The moon has always been a symbol of eternal beauty. To the eyes and ears of a mortal it reminded as the unreachable diamond in the sky. Kishimoto-kami's light that shines within the pitch black night and guides us in the world's darkest hour.

But in the presents of the blazing sun, the moon is nothing more than a big ugly rock.

I wasn't the best ninja ever or the most motivated one, but you can always count on my father to point it out. My father's favorite argument was the comparison between my baby sister and me. She was always better than me. Hand seals: 1/40. Taijutsu: 1/40. Ninjutsu: 1/40. Genjutsu: 1/40. chakra control: 1/40. Hanabi was always top of her class. She was voted student body president four years running. She took first place in cross country triapplon. Wilderness explorer leader of the bee scouts. The only survivor of the atomic dozen hot wings in 10 minute challenge. Second place in the hot dog eating contest. She even joined the yearbook club for a day and photoshopped herself into all the club photos. Any signet ring or medal minted in Konoha, she either had it or didn't meet the age requirement to precipitate.

Before when he spoke, I used to remain silent. You know how frustrating it is, when you trying to explain something or screaming something at someone who seems to be ignoring you? Well, his solution was to yell louder. Now when he speaks, I make a habit of nodding my head fiercely. When I hear my father stomping, I contract my muscles before he hits my aneras. I fake a small yelp to cajole him into thinking that effort wasn't . It was human nature to apply force in till there was flitch or small whaling. No parents like to inflict pain or punishment to their own children but, parents seems to force their right hand in till there is a response. Parents don't want to break the skin, but they wish to see the hissing breaths. Legal guardians don't want to leave any marks, but they wish to see their children shield themselves when their arms. To have their lessons and teachings are passed on, and it would be deeply engraved into our minds. I play the part of the marionette. I would fool my predecessor to thinking that I won't forget my ancestors. To cry on will, to beg for forgiveness, to carry out their name.

I became the faceless mask. Hiashi only saw what he wanted to see and in turn I avoid more severe castigation.

I was suppose to be the heir of the Hyuuga, I can't beat someone who is five years younger than me. Neji would always tell me that it was fate. Just like my father and his brother. My father's Brother, Neji's father, was younger by 2 minutes. A fate sealed the two brothers in kishimoto's intricate design. Hinshi, my father, was the favorite. He always had the home field advantage. When my father broke his nose after running into a door, it was just apart become a man. To feel pain and to stride from it. Neji's father, hitting his knee on a coffee table, it was just him trips over his own two left feet. He was clumsy, stupid, or left handed. A branch member and nothing more. The younger brother by 2 minutes was the 2 minutes that Hizashi would never be able to make up. Hizashi's Destiny written under kishimoto's pencil, he was the urchin, the black sheep, the forgotten. No one gives a rat's ass about the second person who climbed Mount Everest, or French person who discovered North American. We rather apprise Christian Columbus who never realized that he even set foot on a foreign land.

Pure dumb luck. It was dumb luck that Hishi was born first and Hizashi was born second. In their father's eyes, he was always the young brother of 2 minutes. My sister and I were just the same. I been on this world for five years longer than her, and it was five years wasted. Neji said it was fate. Whatever it was, it was all in kishimoto's hands. Out of my control. A plan which was long decided before I was born. It was just something I had to learn to accept and condition myself. Life only moved in one direction. Red will always be red and blue will always be blue. Immovable, impossible, impeachable. Hizashi was second to Hiashi, and I was to Hanabi. Everything went as exactly planned Kishimoto. Hizashi genetic deficit made his way into my chromosomes. As Kishimoto wished it to be. Kishimoto wrote it out so that his past endeavors will haunt my future. In Kishimoto's eyes, he was the little Benedict Arnold. In Kishimoto's eyes, I was a failure. In my father's eyes… unforgivable.

February 13

School of ninjutsu and ninjutsu-nary was 4.3 miles from my house. It was about a two hour and fifth teen minute walk. On this peculiar morning, it was 37 degrees outside. It wasn't that bad, actually. I don't get that much privacy at home. This gives me time to mull over my thoughts, but more importantly, I can mentally prepare myself for another day of school.

Here, I was. A government-funded fuliseality promotes violence in youth. The building was enclave from sunlight with a wrap of stucco. I threaded lightly through the halls. Profanity often echoed off of the alabaster, long after the original source has vanished. I sneaked passed the principle office, taking the long way around the nursing office. Give an adolescent teen a kunai and add raging hormones by consist exercise and puberty then you got a recipe for disaster. There was always a long line at the nurse's office, full of students thinking the kunai is the ultimate Swiss army knife to cracking almond nut shells or cleaning the gunk logged between gaps of their teeth. A four year old can get a concealed weapon permit was something that I had to get well acquitted with, but there was something that always made me digress into the little girl hiding behind my mother's velvet red dress.

I was ten feet away from homeroom class. I eyes wondered across the halls towards the trophy case. This little curio stand holds names of the most protégée and promising young shinobi with the highest marks. And up on the first shelf, on the top of a very small pedestal, it lays a picture of Hyuuga Hinata with an angelic light bestowed upon it. The reason why my picture sat dubiously on its throne still puzzles me. It had nothing to do with my craftsmanship as a shinobi, more to do with my popularity. I won prom queen two years in a row without even lifting a finger or going to prom. I was in the school catalog cover picture twice: one smiling at the camera and another photocopied in the background.

Take it from me, being the anorexia standard of beautiful isn't all glamour and gold-&-silver glitter as they make it out to be.

I had my hand clinched on the door handle, taking in a deep breath before checking into my overpriced daycare.

"Hey, Hinata!" Eric said, one of my classmates. "I have these two movie tickets, I was wondering if you would like…" Eric's body went lopsided and against a wall.

"Like-hell, Hinata won't go out with you!" Rob, one of the alpha males. "Hey, Hinata, your ass is looking especially fine today!"

"Roses are red, violets are blue, but the love will never die between me and you." Another pop out between Rob's gigantic thighs, this one was bearing the offering of a purple iris. It wasn't long before I was bombard with male testosterone.

"Wow, Hinata I bet you make a great house wife!"

"A girl like you shouldn't have to carry your own bag! It's a man's job!"

"HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEY, beautiful"

My vertebra was plastered against wall, completely cornered. "um.. well" lost for words, I wrapped my arms around my handbag. "I got to go to my desk!" as I squeezed by my classmate, I felt a feign hand firmly gripped on my butt. Damn it, I wasn't going to cry. I hate these guys, I hate this school, and I hate myself. All I wanted was to put my head down on the maple wood table tops.

After the boys, I still had scuttle pass the girls and their euphemism.

"Oh god, look at that fat ass. She is so fat."

"I know, you know I hear that fatty is dating a one of the teachers"

"well, I heard the fatso was dating a Chuunin." Oh its get worse.

"well, I heard the lard was dating" they all said the last word in unison "Naruto!"

"eww, how does she live with herself?"

"totally nasty"

"she would do anybody"

I put on my hoodie, face down on my desk. I developed much more earlier than the rest of the girls. Now, the boys look at me as an object of attraction and girls, they cut me down at every peg.

It was Kishimoto cruel idea to give me such a body as short and wide as valley of end(completely unnatural, and caused by external forces). My curveulous body made life as a ninja difficult. Ninjas are supposed to be stealth and untraceable, but my breast has become Konoha scholar's greatest distraction. Men of all ages and ethnics threw themselves at my feet. My locker would always be raided with love letters and many granite columns would be embellished with heart shaped carving, centering a plus sign, a boy names and my own. Self proclaimed bards and martyr for my love.

You know in love stories, there is always a popular bitchy-bitch that every guy drooled and infatuated with. The bitch would changes the overall tone of the story whenever it was convenient to the author. She would also brings out the melodrama of the main heroine. She would have every man, women and child, wrapped around her little pinky. She would procure men to kiss her feet before upgrading.. Never satisfied, never happy. Prince or no prince, she was above kissing any frogs. Two female titan clashes when this evil kunoichi set her sights on heroine love interest. She would fight tooth-n-nail to get what she wants, to get what she deserves! It was her destined to have it all. It was her birthright, written in the stars. It was just a game to her. A challenge, she could not refuse. Finding contradictions in whole truths. Scientifically prove to her rival, the heroine, that the world is indeed flat. Despite being in countless stories, she was relentless, never tired and never got any older than when she was first introduced in the story: she simply wore more make up.

I was always that girl, trapped in the mind-boggling enigma that a boy isn't interested in me, and I surreptitiously inject myself into love triangle. Well, more of a pyramid scheme as I try to steal her beloved one.

I was always the evil one. Cinderella and her EVILSISTERS. Snow White and MALEFICENT. The Swan Princess and HAG. I would take interest in seeing the human struggle. It was my character's sinsemilla or hedonism. My character is too philistine by my corrupted power that I send minion to test the bonds between the destined lovers. But love makes him strong, love keep his bleeding heart from a cardiac arrest. The hero throws himself at my entire armies, outmaneuvers the quickest sword, disable the most furtive traps, and unite all those with a shred of morality in their hearts against the impending evil.

They cast me off as the succubus or evil dragon in disguise, never the princess, or even the village girl extra.

Honesty, nothing brings people closer together than mutual hatred.

Because every story needs a villain. E

and another photocopied in the background. even going to prom les me. y prepare myself for another day of school.very school girl, diva, pre-Madonna will stand together in arms against their popularity famine, to pin pointing mayhem and to perseverant of such stories. Much like the old war retirees, they are all sharing the same stories. Different cities, different names, same hardships. Underneath all the stride, bonds between the school girls begin to form.

Shelley's ornery demeanor, jasmine's disfigured left thumb, Loi's buckle teeth protruding over her lower lip and how it rained whatever she tried to pronoun 'T' or 'S' is hardly noticeable with my overwhelming fat and ugliness. On top of my slutty attitude that cajoled every boy with his brain lodged between his legs.

The girls here hated me.

I would have gladly trade bodies with any of these women. If it meant I could live uninterrupted, uneventful life: marrying to an average citizen, having two children, maybe twins if I was lucky, and retire after my children go off on their own. But that isn't life.

Instead, I'm too fat, my calf are half an too thin, my outfit is too plain, my mole on shoulder is too ugly, my hair is too long, my hair is too short, my stance is too lopsided, my beautiful neck is lacking a masculine arm.

I'm all wrong.

ister is better than me

emilla.