There is an old journal, long since used and read, but never forgotten, that lies deep within the library of the Hyuugas. It is leather bound, a sacred seal over it with slightly yellowed pages that crinkle and makes noises when you flip through it.
In this journal are entries that have long since been read and thought of. The entries belong to a girl long ago who had received it as a reward of sort. The girl has been gone for quite some time, forgotten in the ravages of time and war.
The Hyuugas do not wish to remember her, but are forced to listen and watch her ghost haunt their children, their halls and their council members. She breathes down necks, murmurs curses against ears that listen though they do not wish to. Wide eyes that look so ghostly and ghoulish will at times stare back from mirrors that will be shattered for no reason whatsoever. Quiet and wraith like, she sweeps down the halls and screams at the council members, the heirs and current rulers of the Hyuuga clan to not make a mistake as they once had with her. She will never allow them the luxury of learning and moving on, forgetting her.
They will not have such a luxury.
They will listen, they will fear any mistake, they will remember she is one of their mistakes that turned on them; they will remember her.
She will not be forgotten.
In this journal, are the memories and the formula for calamity for a little girl who evolved and mutated in order to stay alive.
In this journal, this is a story of a girl with an unfulfilled life.
In this journal, there is the explanation of the girl who died so long ago and then was resurrected.
These are the memoirs of the living dead girl.
This is not a dream. Please do not try any attempts to wake yourself. We apologize for the momentary delay.
(The date and number of years ago are too smudged to make out in the corner of the journal properly)
The fire roared and the young girl huddled in a corner, voice too weak to cry out, smoke choking her in a vice like grip. She whimpered and tears ran down her cheeks. Someone would come back for her and take her from the fire, whisk her away from death.
Hinata hiccupped and cried all over again. The fire was unbearably hot, peeling her skin and she knew she looked worse than when sunburn would grace her pale skin. She cried and whimpered, but it was cut off rather abruptly.
Her door suddenly flew open and she stared up at a figure clothed in a dark cloak with red clouds.
Red hair, darker than that of the greedy fire, glinted. Eyes stared down at her and a face of a priceless doll stared back. The figure swathed in such clothes moved forth gracefully as though he were made of liquid.
The girl moved back at the apparently male figure stopped suddenly as though considering something.
He advanced and Hinata flinched, wanting to escape but finding nowhere to run. The small girl child screamed in her fear, fright in her eyes like a second coating of their unique color. A hand covered her mouth and shook her soundly, so slick, blood drip dropped off. Drip drop. Drip drop. Save me, she pleaded to whoever may have been listening on her thoughts. Save me, help me, I don't want to die.
Red hair glinted beneath the hazy smoky gaze of the roaring fire around them. The fire fed off the paper doors and walls, wooden floors of the Hyuuga household. Rust colored eyes seemed to glint at her, "Do you want to live?" he questioned, fingers were wrapped around her jaw. A thumb brushed a stray tear from her cheek, smearing red. "Do you?" there was a smile; hideous but the ill intent was too well hidden for the child of six to see.
She cried out, skinny arms flinging out to this stranger who had entered her room to save her when no one else would. Her family had left her behind to burn in the fire. He caught her when she wrapped tiny arms around his neck and cradled her gently. "Alright, alright, alright…" he pat her back gently. Wide white eyes turned to him and the red haired man smiled gently, flicking another stray tear away with well groomed fingers. "It'll be alright," rust colored eyes with tints of gold gleamed in the firelight.
Her hold around his neck tightened and she sniffled into the black coat wrapped around him.
A flicker of fire and they were gone, leaving no trace in their wake.
…This is a prologue, apparently as that may be I needed to make it clear. …It was a crappy start but oh well damn it. I may or may not continue since I have a short attention span and I just needed to get this out since I was listening to a good song…yess…Review if you'd like.