Disclaimer for the entire story: I do not own the characters of Naruto or the plot. I only own the plot of this story, written purely for amusement.

The Hyuga Compound was silent under a veil of cloudy night, a peacefully deceiving harbinger. It wasn't strange to hear the quiet, for the Hyuga were a taciturn, albeit proud, family, and with every right, for they possessed one of the most precious and oldest eyes in all of Konoha. However, the value wasn't because their eyes were beautiful: pale, swirling pearls. No, it was because of the power that lay within those eyes, the all-seeing Byakugan.

The Byakugan gave the Hyuga eyes in the back of their head, and not only that, but the sides and the front, too. Three hundred, sixty-degree vision, they were the best bet of every hide-and-seek game. Furthermore, this kekkai-genkai also armed the skilled ninja clan with fists of iron covered in silk, also known as the Gentle Fist.

The Gentle Fist move proved the Hyuga that though they heavily valued their eyes, seeing was, in fact, not believing. To rely on first impressions, first instincts, would only end up having your chakra systems shut down at the soft prod of velvet fingertips. And those same velvet fingertips curled a dark, choppy strand of hair behind a delicate earlobe in thought.

A child, no older than six, lay in a grand bedroom simply too large for her tiny form. She continued playing with her fingers, staring at the ceiling tiles, counting and recounting. A frown, too aged for a child, was set deeply into her rosy face. She waited.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

The Hyuga mentally tallied the seconds and marked the seconds which turned to minutes. Five-hundred, twenty-five thousand, five-hundred, fifty-seven minutes…

Hickory dickory dock.

A year earlier from this particular moment, she had been younger; a darling child, full of innocence and love, who was adorably bashful and picked flowers. She asked questions, unknowing that she was embarrassing her elders for her lack of knowledge. She would cling to her father's tall form, throw tantrums when she didn't get what she wanted, stumble and knock over various china as she struggled to help her mother around the house…

The mouse went up the clock.

Five-hundred, twenty-five thousand, five-hundred, fifty-eight minutes…

Small fingers curled tightly. Okaa-san.

It was strange. All those times she had pushed away the vegetables on her plate, had argued about going to bed early, peered over the Lady Hyuga's crouched form as she pulled weeds from the garden, flipped through the many albums of pressed flowers, not once had the young girl ever considered that all of these things, all of the life in the Hyuga, could simply… disappear.

Not once had she ever been given notice, that maybe she should try to preserve the fresh scent of herbal ointments, catch it in a jar, because once her mother left, the only smell left in the house would be musty, like an attic visited for the first time in years.

She pondered over this, as her nails dug into the palm of her small hands, hands too soft, too gentle, for the heiress of her prestigious clan. These hands were made for flower picking, not killing, much to the displeasure of the Elders. A disappointment, for being the child she was.

The clock struck one.

Five-hundred, twenty-five thousand, five-hundred, fifty-nine minutes…

When her mother had left her, she was tossed like a pebble into the sea. Her hopes, dreams, and life had been buried six feet under with the woman's corpse. Hinata hadn't believed it at first, gazing upon the white draped figure and wondering why her mother was still in bed. Why her mother was in a hospital bed, when the one at the compound was so much more comfortable. Not that it was that comfortable anymore, not with the new squirming pink splotch everyone called Hanabi who would cry and scream, resulting in many sleepless nights.

When her father brought this thinghome, Hinata wondered why he didn't bring her mother as well. She didn't ask though, she never questioned Otou-sama. Questioning him would only hurt her mother, and she could never do that.

And so, she silently obeyed, never wondering why Kaa-san never came back from the hospital. Never pointing out Kaa-san wasn't moving. Never protesting when Kaa-san was being lowered into a hole. A child she may have been, many questions she may have had, but Hinata wasn't stupid. Not even a child was stupid enough to challenge her Otou-sama, even when it came to her mother.

And so, Hinata silently moved on, eyes hardening and nimble heart being slowly swept away into that grave. She cast away her feelings and became the Hyuga her father wanted, for now that she didn't have her inspiration, her hope in life, she had no motive but to turn into his.

Emotionless, the daughter became an heiress, the grand display with cold, glassy eyes in the Hyuga Collection.

The mouse fell down.

Five-hundred, twenty-five thousand, five-hundred, sixty minutes.

A small rustle was heard outside her window. Hinata turned her head towards the disruption and watched expectantly. Yes, she was aware of the kidnapping about to happen, ever since she heard those strange cloaked men discussing it in an alleyway on her way back from the Academy. No, she hadn't told anybody. Nothing made a difference.

She wasn't wrong; from the shadows of a corner, a figure emerged. He glided over to her bed and blind folded her. Hinata wasn't scared though, simply closing her eyes as darkness consumed her. He then tied up her hands, and she offered no struggle. Then the intruder forced a block of something nasty into her mouth, but she wouldn't have screamed anyway.

He was perplexed. What kind of child was this? Any other hostage would at least have shown some reaction, but she didn't do anything. Not that he minded, this made his job much easier.

Scooping her up easily, he walked to the window, crouching stealthily on its ledge. Only did he pause to scratch the Cloud symbol beside the bed, and then he jumped out, his black cloak billowing behind him.

Hickory dickory dock.

Happy deathiversary, Okaa-san.

"Hinata-sama? Hinata-sama?"

The following morning, a Hyuga Branch member would politely allow herself into the heiress's chambers, a tray of breakfast in her hands, for the Hyuga will assume that she had overslept. She would see a bundle of blankets on the bed, assuming that her Lady's tiny form is buried under it, the maid would place down the tray on the bedside table top. Then she would turn to open the shades of the window, wondering why it was open. As she turns back, towards the door, the woman's corner vision would spot the Cloud symbol carved into the wall. Her opalescent eyes would widen, and she would trace her fingers over it, feeling the rough edges, feeling its reality. And then she would turn back to the bed and sink her hands into the covers, and rather than feeling a solid body, it would deflate. Her scream would ring through the compound.

Panic would follow, and search parties would be sent out as far as the Fire Country's borders. Threats of war would be exchanged as Konoha sends accusations to their long-time bitter relation, Kumogakure, the Hidden Cloud Village, claiming for them to have kidnapped their Hyuga heiress.

Outraged, the Cloud would refute, and then they would use this moment of fiasco to their advantage to get the Hyuga secrets for real. However, the village would soon be tricked as the clan head they ask for will send his sealed Branch twin instead, and a child would lose his father that night.

And in the end, the Hyuga Clan will decide that they're going through too much trouble for a weak and disappointing heiress. Surely the child is dead by now, there's no way that the secrets of their clan would be able to be removed from such a pathetic creature. There were bigger things to turn their attention to, for the heiress had a younger sister, a second chance.

Too quickly, Hyuga Hinata would be erased away from the clan, from her family. She would be stripped as an heiress, as a daughter, and a sister of one who will never know that there might just be something missing in her pampered life.

The Akatsuki were very pleased with the success of the mission. They gazed down at her hungrily, like a child with a new toy. Finally, they had the Byakugan in their grasp.

However, she was unmarked, young, and pure. Why go through the trouble of extracting the eyes when it was easier just to mold her into what they wanted? She would follow them blindly, with the belief that they are her only, and she would obey them with a firmly sheathed loyalty.

Yes, with a bit of work, Hinata would mold into a fine weapon indeed…