A strange new life

Chapter 1: Early years and Academy days.



Chapter 1: Early years and Academy days.

Life got strange, fast. I mean, real fast. One moment, I was in front of my computer, lost in an endless haze of fandom surfing about my latest manga obsession. 

I blinked. I was somewhere else. 

Gone were the soft green walls of my room, the messy table with my computer, my plushies, my bed, and all the clothing scattered about. I was underwater, or it felt like I was underwater. My body felt strange. I couldn't move. There was a tube going down my mouth and throat, and I could feel it shifting inside my chest whenever the world shook.

I was inside some glass container, viscous green soup surrounded me. It blurred the world, but even so, I could see the room where I was. It was plain, unadorned concrete walls. No windows. A single door. A table upturned, papers scattered about. I saw broken wires and eighty's-looking computer parts: large, cumbersome, and utterly shattered. Among the paper, I saw rolled-up things that looked like scrolls, but it made no sense. Why would someone with access to computers use scrolls?

The world shook again, harder this time. 

The container I was inside buckled and tipped over. It felt awful. Something pulled inside my lungs. The back of my head stung. My arms and legs hurt. The green sludge spilled away, leaving me shivering. Whatever happened, broke something because I couldn’t breathe anymore. There was a tube in my mouth, but there was no more air there. Panic surged inside me. I tried to move my hands, to spit the tube out, to kick. Nothing worked. I know I should have asked how I got from my room to this place, but right now, the only thing I could think of was the need to breathe. 

An eternity flashed in a second. My lungs burned, my head spun. Blackness crept into my vision. Why was this happening to me? I don’t think I ever did anything to deserve this. Pushing Veronica in the mud didn’t count; she bullied Amanda. Was it because I snogged Kimberly? It couldn’t be, could it? No, not a chance. Mom just hadn’t caught up with the times.

The world shook once more. The walls exploded, debris peppered the rest of the room, myself included. It hurt, but the sting was nothing compared to the burning need for air. I saw movement before darkness claimed me. A stylized porcelain wolf mask, with red whiskers. Spiky white hair. Black shirt under a gray vest. Shoulders bare, but the same black cloth covering most of the arms.

Yeah, I’ve gone mad. Why was this person wearing Kakashi-sensei’s ANBU mask? Was this a cosplay thingy? Blackness claimed me. I guess I’ll never know.


I opened my eyes again. Surprising. I thought I had died. The room smelled like antiseptic, sterile, like a hospital. Bare white walls, a window that let me see the blue sky and mountains in the distance. I got up to a sitting position, the blanket slid off and spilled to the ground. The world seemed bigger, out of proportion. Like I was in a world of giants.

Outside the room I was in, I could hear a commotion. The voices are too muffled for me to understand what they were saying. I clenched my fists, muscles protesting the movements. My hand looked small, young. Curious, I touched my face, my head. TV lied to me. I couldn't tell if this was my face by just touching. What I could tell was that I had no hair. Urgh, what a pain. I liked my hair, and it would take forever to grow it again.

The door burst open mid-inspection. I turned my eyes to the newcomers.

A man dressed in white kimono, severe face, long black hair, upturned thin eyebrows, white eyes. The corners of his eyes were deformed, like veins coming from the sides of his face.

I knew that face. I knew the name. I even knew what was happening to his eyes. That man was Hyuga Hiashi, clan head, my father. What? No! My dad died when I was eight. My name was Camilla, but I was also Hinata. I was fifteen, almost sixteen. I was three years old, and always failed when training the family techniques? I couldn't sense chakra, even with my byakugan. This was so trippy. 

Hyuga Hiashi byakugan stare pierced my soul. I felt naked and unclean.

Others rushed inside the room. Women and men in white clothes, but not the same as Hiashi; it was a uniform of sorts. They were deferential; I could see they wanted, but dared not, to stop father. Hiashi stepped closer without a word. His hand was closed in a severe fist. We didn’t break eye contact. I knew there was something wrong when he pointed a glowing white finger at me.

“Can you tell me what’s happening here, Hiashi?” An old man’s voice broke the moment.

I tore my eyes from my fat—Hiashi, looked at the man who, one moment ago, hadn’t been in the room. Even if I wanted, I couldn’t mistake him. Smaller than Hiashi, but his presence demanded attention. White pointy goatee, old-looking face, three lines from the eyes to his cheeks, two marks on his left cheek. Funny red and white hat with the fire symbol, and the white clothes were just to make sure everyone knew this grandpa was Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage.

“Hokage-sama,” father bowed.

“What were you trying to do to Hinata?”

“I’ve told you, Hiruzen,” Father said, voice heated. “My daughter died two years ago. This thing,” Hiashi said, pointed at me, “is not her!”

“I don’t agree with your reasoning, Hiashi, but I respect the Hyuga clan’s decision.”

“Then why are you stopping me?” Father demanded.

“Stopping you from what?”

“To kill this abomination!” Father exploded. “This vile thing is a stain on the Hyuga name. Will you interfere with clan matters?” Hiashi demanded, finger still pointed at me.

Something inside me died at those words. The small, frail thing that were Hinata's memories curled in pain and sadness. My throat closed, and tears spilled from my eyes.

“I cannot tell you how to run your clan, Hiashi.” The Hokage said, voice tired and sad. Hiashi turned to me again, finger glowing once more. “But by your own words, Hinata is not a member of the Hyuga clan.”

Father stopped, turned around, bewildered expression on his face. “What?”

“The Hyuga clan may deal with their members according to whatever law they have,” Hiruzen said, walked to the side of my bed. “This girl, Hinata, is a citizen of Konoha, not a member of Hyuga, by your own words. I will not let you kill a child from my village.”

Hiashi glared at the old man Hokage before turning around and storming out of the room.

“You may leave as well,” Hokage said, addressing the spooked nurses. The old man spoke again only when the room was empty except for the two of us.

“How are you feeling Hinata?” He asked, softly.

I opened my mouth, but words wouldn’t come. I tried pushing air out, make any sort of noise. I tried to groan, to snarl, to giggle, to laugh, but couldn’t. I shook my head.

“You’re safe now.” He said. He looked at me for a moment, sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said. Turned around, left me alone.

I laid back on the bed, mind in turmoil. How I was in Naruto? That didn’t make any sense. This was not how the story was supposed to go. Fat—Hiashi may have been a horrible father, but he never disowned Hinata in the original story, nor did he try to kill her. What was going on here?

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