Her fingers breaking were what woke her. Later, she would wonder, did she hear them snap or only feel the blooming pain? She screams, but there is something pushing against her tongue, cloth choking against her tonsils and down her throat. Unexpected warmth rushes around her temples in pounding coils, and the world is suddenly, and sickeningly, in fuller view than it was before. It makes her ill, but the bile has no where to go and she is gagging and coughing when hands wrap around her, and suddenly, they are moving over roofs.
Her body slams against someone else's, first into her captor then his friend, in this frantic scramble over buildings. Ahead of them are city walls. Behind them, Hinata sees the Hyuuga compound lights flicker on, people's shadows flooding through the doors. Her captors take no notice. Are they scared? Hinata cannot tell; they have holes in their eyes that make them hard to read. Their eyes, more than anything else, scare her, and she wants her father. She wants anyone, so long as they would take her away from these men. She kicks and kicks against these hands that dig in tighter, tight enough to draw blood.
The world blurs, going too fast for these new eyes to take in, and then, somehow, like she wanted, there is her father on top of the wall, running to meet them. Bodies crash into one another as they fight, nothing like the dances her father and uncle show in training. Arms and legs dive around each other, the sheer drop to the country on one side, the city on the other. In a move, she is thrown. There are stars above her and the ground below. Wind is screaming past her ears as she plummets and someone else is screaming too, but it still is not her. Above, her father's movements never slow or falter in his fight.
The impact jars her new vision from her eyes. She hits first flesh then the ground and arms are wrapping tight around. She struggles against them till she hears her name. Above her are white eyes, reassuring in their normalness. The face is a little like her father's but more worn. Her uncle pulls the cloth from her mouth and runs a hand across her face.
" Are you unharmed?" he asks. Before she can answer, veins bloom in a lattice across his temples and a dull thud sounds from behind. His limbs at awkward angles, her captor lays spread-eagle across the ground. Blood dribbles out his mouth, and his eyes with holes in them are staring up into nothing. A moment later, her father lands beside them.
His are the first arms she does not struggle against tonight, and he just holds her for several minutes. She can hear his ragged breathing against her neck; feel his heartbeat with her head against his chest.
"Hiashi-sama," Her uncle is at their side, whispering furiously, "We must alert the Hokage, and Hinata-sama's hands have been damaged. A medic-nin needs to look at them. Come. We cannot stay here."
Her father does not answer, but he moves, so it is the same result. In a gesture mimicking her uncle's, her father brushes his hands across her face. Along her jaw line, over her cheeks, across her lips and carefully tracing all around her eyes, his fingers travel.
" You activated your Byakugan, and so young too. Perhaps there will be hope yet. I am proud of you this night, my daughter." Her hands are pulsing, and she smells of sick, but she almost manages not move under his gaze. Turning, neither man waits for her to follow them home. Their Byakugan will see that she does.