I do not own Naruto. More importantly, I do not own Hinata. Most importantly, I do not own a gem encrusted crown. Dang it.
Author's Notes: Should I be investing my time and efforts into A) Studying, and B) Finishing Beginnings? Yes. Yes I should. But considering both of those items are currently on the back burners of my brain due to the desire not to touch either of them with a fifty-foot long pole, I present the FFN community with this trifle to sait my own insanity. See, I said another story was coming! You should have run when you had the chance.
Enough of my rambling, down to the meat.
This will be entered in either one-shots or drabbles, but will have a plot and will progress in a conformed order. Later on, I plan to progress to chapters. I do not promise regular updates, but I do promise they will come.
In the meantime, since my Author's Note is now probably longer than this prologue (AND THIS IS A PROLOGUE!), please enjoy.
Hinata snatched up her purse, fingers fumbling with the thin strap, and moved as quickly as her heels and dress allowed to the elevator. She jabbed the down button, and then jabbed it again when the doors didn't immediately open.
Did he see me? She wondered, checking over her shoulder for any familiar flash of hair or eye. Does he know I'm here?
A familiar, full-throated laugh made her hair stand on end, and she jabbed at the brass button again. He had been across the room, and the silk and ceremony of the party had parted for just long enough that she had been able to catch the side of his grin and a laughing eye. She had turned away immediately, but, as she had always known it would, her heart had broken at the sight of him; standing there, laughing, as if he had simply washed away the blood crusted on his hands.
Her nails—manicured, just for tonight, as a splurge for the party- dug into her palm. There was another laugh, closer.
Oh yes, he had definitely seen her.
Her hands were clammy, and she worried she was going to sweat her make-up off. She hurried the elevator on. Come on, rescue me. You can do it. Come on!
There was a familiar ding! and she jumped inside as soon as the doors were wide enough, hand already scrabbling at the wall for the Close Doors.
"Hold the elevator!"
Hinata jumped, looked up to see him walking—too quickly, how had she never noticed how quickly he walked before all this?—toward her. He maneuvered through the crowd so smoothly, so calmly, like there was no one else but them in the whole room. His eyes met hers, and he must have seen the terror, because for a moment, only a moment, he slowed.
But the moment was enough, and her fingers slammed into the right buttons.
The doors rattled closed on his swiftly narrowing eyes, and she allowed herself to lean back against the wall for support. Her bag fell from her nerveless fingers.
Naruto, she thought, heart aching, throat tight. Oh, Naruto…
Author's Notes: Yes indeed.
And I just feel that I should warn you that the army of brain-sucking tribbles will be coming after you if you don't review. I felt it was only fair to let you know. So, yes, please review.