Summary: This was not a fairytale. But it was close enough.

Note: Because I like this pairing and no, I don't care if various people don't. So what if it's a girl and a girl, it just works. It's Naruto x Sasuke before Naruto x Sasuke, and with a hell load more flashback rubbish. So yes. Anyway. Moving on.

Warning(s): Slight mentions of M rated stuff, Roman numerals, a fair amount of angst, yuri.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Princess Charming

V. Tip Toes

"Why should I promise you anything?"

"Because you love me."

Because you, she wanted to say, don't break a promise.

Even if your promise has broken you.

I. Fractured Fairytales

They were merely marionettes.

Staring out on the open stage of life with wide open green, black, blue eyes wide with nothing but alight with everything. Watching their show continue, never changing it. If they did, damn it would be indecent and wrong. The show was too remedial of Neverland, with Naruto as Peter Pan who led the young daring Sakura or Wendy off into eternal youth and happiness. But it wouldn't last, because Wendy left at the end. Sakura ran away.

Beauty was back from his hellhole and he'd enchanted the beast once more. Oh, and didn't the Kingdom love it. The young girl who'd got sick of the rag-a-tag lost boys (Kiba, Neji, Chouji) had blossomed into an ugly monster who loved the Narcissus creature that charmed snakes and hearts and everything outside the in between. She tore through stone and she was their pride, the show of Konoha and he was the main attraction. He could show that bad could become good. He was affected by a girl who could move mountains, surely. He could never say no to someone like her with her pixie pastel princess colouring and her dainty look. Wasn't she a good person? To love what nobody else would anymore. Plus, who would want eternal youth when you could have Uchiha Sasuke?

But he didn't like it. He didn't want her love, and tug-of-war had gone out of fashion years ago between friends so the affection of the fair haired interrogation toy meant nothing. Pink didn't even have a ninja family, her chakra only stemmed from work and she was nothing. Yellow, on the other hand, came from a dwindling clan and could mess with minds and use people like he did. It was only natural to choose her instead, he said.

"Plus, you'd never listen to me."

So it was decided. The exotically coloured fairy ran off to the other woman, the destroyer of the fairytale, and tore up the stage in the process. Because it wasn't right. They'd fought for it for so long, and she thought she'd won by then. She had to have. She'd waited and waited like Rapunzel in her tower but her Prince didn't care. He'd had his eyes scratched out by thorns, and was only interested in the wicked witch.

"It's not fair! Why would he want you?"

"Don't you understand?"

Uchiha Sasuke was no Prince Charming. He never had been. He wasn't returning her petite glass slipper (just taking back his 'thank you') and he didn't care for anyone who'd waste their life away in a castle or tower or Konoha as they waited for someone to save them. He wanted someone who didn't care, someone who'd just simply settle down and pop out babies and live without love.

"But I love him."

"Fairytales lie, Princess."

People were not made to love each other. More than the amount of people who believe in romance and love, Ino knew that there were people who didn't get fed by maids and given fairy god mothers. But most certainly of all, Ino knew that love could be unrequited and no matter what all the 'child-friendly' idealistic rubbish said. Poor, naïve, little Sakura. Nobody would ever lie to her. Nobody would ever leave her. Nobody would turn their back on her. Except Sasuke, that was.

"Then promise me you won't do it."

"Do what?"

"Promise you won't love him."

Never ever after.

II. Lined-up Memories

Hand in hand.

Sakura and Ino had stood like that once on the edge of their world, the top of the Hokage faces when they were seven and Ino thought it would be fun to climb them. Everyone thought they had run away, or God forbid something awful had happened to the two small darlings. But that was where they had been, not that they'd ever tell.

"We could fly from here."

Ino had said it without thought, staring down at all the barely-visible dots that moved around in crowds or alone. She felt sorry for those by themselves, solitude was a nasty thing. It attacked when people least suspected it, and the consequences were never pretty and were very rarely right in her eyes. She suddenly clung tighter, afraid that Sakura would let go. She didn't want to be alone. Ino liked being surrounded by people. Nobody put her in the corner. Because Ino was good-looking and confident, unlike her best friend. Nobody turned her away. She had liked to think that they never would.

"We don't have wings."

"So?"

"Promise you won't make me jump."

Sakura's voice wobbled. She was scared. Maybe she had thought Ino would make her jump. No, she wouldn't. Not that day. Ino often caused disorder and mess, madness, panic, chaos, and everything else there possibly was. It was rarely by mistake. But jumping from there would have been taking it a little too far. Plus, Sakura was right. They didn't have wings, and that meant that they could not fly.

"Promise me then that you'll do it another day."

What did a few years matter between friends? So there they stood, at seventeen years old under the moonlight and Ino reached out her hand again like years ago and wanted. Sakura didn't do the same. Her fingers recoiled, curling upwards into a closed fist. Ino huffed. That was fine by her. She could be difficult.

"Jump."

Sakura said it without affection. Ino should have asked how high before she pelted herself off flawlessly, running down the face as fast as she could. She only stopped when she reached the floor and realised that Sakura hadn't done it. She hadn't kept her promise. She'd turned her back on her and walked away like she shouldn't have even been there. Like it meant nothing to her. Ino stared up, then stared at her own fingers, trying to tell herself they missed by inches. That Sakura hadn't yanked away before they even touched and left her when she tried to drag her down to keep her promise.

This time, they couldn't be hand in hand. Because Sakura didn't want to be. Tears stung at the blonde's eyes, and she stared up wishing that it was all just a mistake and pretending her friend hadn't run away. That her Princess hadn't gone wandering off to another person. Screw that, that her Princess even loved her in the same way. Because, Ino told herself, they were just friends and this love was normal.

There had been times when she'd wanted to kiss her father, Asuma, Shikamaru, Chouji and even Kurenai on the cheek and scream 'thank you' or 'I love you' because of something they had done to make her happy. But Sakura was only making her miserable right then, and Ino just wanted to grab her and kiss her like she'd kiss a superstar.

But women couldn't wear suits of armours and crowns made for Kings. There were no countries with two Queens. There were no cross-dressing female heroines, no ladies in shining armour and Ino knew her gender made her role all wrong. Sakura didn't want her like that. Sakura wanted her to be a lady-in-waiting or a fairy godmother or the ugly stepsister. She didn't want Ino in the limelight.

But Sakura knew that Ino kept her promises, and that was all that ever mattered to her, Ino supposed. Ino wasn't about to run off with the Prince Charming that Sakura wanted so desperately. Because she'd promised, and when Ino promised it didn't need pinkies like when they were five to seal it and it didn't need the swearing of an oath like now. The result was always the same. She always stayed true. Like she hoped Sakura would, one day. Drying her tears, she told herself that it was just that Sakura had made another promise. One she would pay up on, another day.

"I'm expecting you to hold my hand again."

Maybe in a reincarnation, Sakura neglected to answer.

Or something.

III. Picture Plastic

"Do I look beautiful?"

Sasuke grunted. That was the best answer she was going to get. Her father had sold her out to this ogre, and he was going to hold her captive for the rest of her life. Or give her a story along the lines of that, because Ino was sure she was never going to love the thing that stood staring at her blankly in his plain black outfit. She was nothing to him, and she knew it. Accepting it, however, would be hard. She liked to be wanted.

It was strange then, she supposed, how she always ran back to those who didn't want her. Her father had always treated her well and she'd always ran to him with all of her problems, yet he was the one who agreed to her marriage. He hadn't even asked if it was what she wanted. Then there was Sai, who she had to admit was a bit socially inept to begin with and couldn't understand what she had called her feelings for him. Well, unless up until Naruto had made him read Icha Icha Paradise with some warped idea that it would help him out. Before that, once upon a time, the man who stood next to her looking like he just wanted the ceremony to be over and done with already (so much for the happiest day of his life, if he even knew what happiness was) had been the one she'd clung to vigorously and fought over with the woman she was probably in love with.

Which was when she thought of running to Sakura. She was another person who didn't want her, especially not right then. Ino was the one wearing the beautiful ball costume of a kimono, the carefully constructed colours that suited her in layers of expensive fabrics the Uchiha fortune had paid for. Ino was the one wearing her hair up, with expensive-looking sapphire pins holding it in place. Ino was the one wearing the tailored shoes interwoven with soaring silver birds that Sakura would have died to be in right then, getting married to her beloved. If she could, Ino would give it all to her. She didn't want it. Sure, she had wanted a small and stunning wedding which people would remember for centuries and Sasuke had given her what she wanted (it really was the least he could do) but she wasn't happy. She couldn't care less for any of what she got, because she didn't have Sakura by her side.

But Sakura was sitting in the benches, staring at her blankly and the pinkette had told her earlier not to worry about her because it wasn't Ino's fault. Ino hadn't broken her promise, seeing as the marriage had been arranged. Because of that, Ino couldn't be mad when Sakura tried to win him back. Ino had smiled weakly at that comment. It wasn't about winning Sasuke, anymore. It was about winning her. Not that she knew.

But even when the minister finally started preaching, and the rings were on their fingers and she had choked out her 'I do' and Sasuke had muttered his impassive rendition of the same thing, and he finally asked if anyone wanted to object Sakura didn't say a word. Even if she had, Ino knew that it wouldn't have been to win her back. It would have been a vain hope to steal the heart of the man next to her away instead.

But Ino stared anyway, her pleading glance directed intently into the eyes of the other woman. She was only seventeen, she was too young, she didn't want a fake fairytale and she didn't want a Prince Charming because she wasn't Cinderella. She just wanted her Princess instead. She just wanted Sakura, who was blinded with venom and didn't see what was there all along. Who wouldn't scream stop like Ino would. Sakura was always the good one. Always the one who did right, just like a good Princess. But right then, she was doing so much wrong and Ino wanted to scream witch.

"By the way, you look beautiful Ino."

Sakura whispered later, when they were accepting the gifts as all good married couples did. She must have known that Sasuke hadn't said it. Because she looked away straight after she did it for him, and it meant something coming from her. Because just as Sakura never kept promises, she never praised anybody. Ino smiled, hiding her shock effectively. She would have looked better, in a million different shades of green silk to match her eyes. She would have looked like a plastic doll, perfect for the pictures. If Sasuke had chosen her instead, or hadn't chosen either of them. But that option hadn't been available, apparently.

"You'd make a better Princess."

I know, Sakura didn't say. But I wouldn't want to.

This isn't a fairytale anymore.

IV. Empty Words

Sakura could say a million and one things.

But really, neither she nor Ino would ever know if they were true. If they ever really meant anything at all, or if they were just spontaneous and pointless with nothing to them at all. Without meaning, words were empty, and even when Sakura gave them meaning with promises she knew she'd never keep, they were still empty. Because that was what Sakura was, made into flesh and blood and pink hair with alluring green eyes and a small smile to finish the look. Sakura was emptiness.

"So tell me something true."

Ino said, one day, when she began to wonder if anything the other woman said actually ever was from care or love anymore. So Sakura tried. She sat and smiled in a saccharine sweet way that almost mad Ino gag, and fluttered her eyelashes softly. Giving a pout of the lips that could seal Ino's fate, then laughed as coldly as she could manage. Acting, Sakura knew, was always something Ino had been better at. But she had to try.

"I hate you."

"That's not true."

Ino rebutted her harsh words quickly. Too quickly. Sakura met her daring blue eyes, bold and alive and wondered when Ino had become the strong one again. Because Sakura might have been the embodiment of emptiness, but although Ino had suffered just as much as she had Ino refused to be the same way. She saw the glass as being half full, and it showed. Ino was everything she wasn't.

"How do you know that?"

"Because pretty people always lie."

Especially to those they love, Ino thought, pouring herself another cup of green tea. The china set was exquisite really, she thought idly. Sasuke's mother must have had good taste. She decided not to ask him that later. Either way, the china was still not as exquisite as the porcelain doll-like skin of the woman in front of her. Not that she could say that. She looked up and looked down again. Sakura had caught her staring. Not that she wasn't doing the same, of course, Ino told herself.

"You think I'm pretty?"

Sakura smirked, as if seeing victory. Ino understood why. Sakura was always pretty and petite, like a stringed up china toy that could be made to dance as anyone chose her too. But Ino, on the other hand, was something entirely different. She was beautiful and curved, almost fake-looking like a woman in a Italian oil painting except fair with carefully trimmed blonde hair and bright shiny blue eyes. On the outside, they were nothing alike, and although Sakura had been the victor in war so far it seemed Ino had won in beauty and some sort of messed up version of love based on what could be seen on the surface. But Ino had just practically handed victory over. She didn't see what Ino meant. Maybe because she had grown so used to lying, she couldn't see beneath the surface.

"I think you're perfect."

Then it hit Sakura harder than anything ever had. Her stomach churned, twisting madly and she clamped her hand across the surface over her clothes almost instantly. So, this was what pain really felt like. To find out something like this. It was almost wrong. But Ino just sat there, knowing that she had realised from her shocked look and looking as though she felt that she was the one who couldn't live anymore for once in her life. In that moment, Sakura almost believed in fairytales again.

But Ino wasn't Sasuke. She wasn't even Naruto or Lee. She couldn't play pretend, like she was going to get what she wanted in the end if she tried hard enough. If she loved her enough. Ino couldn't wear a suit of armour as a replacement for her gorgeous traditional outfits or crop her carefully constructed and pinned up hair. Ino couldn't run and save her, not with her thin wrists and lack of skill in anything but spying and right then homely rubbish. Ino couldn't do anything. Especially not save her. Not anymore. But Ino could promise still, and with Ino words meant everything.

"Promise me something."

Because you're an awful Princess, Sakura thought.

Then again, you suck at being a Prince too.

VII. Adieu, Adieu

Sakura said goodbye.

She said it with cherry-lip balm flavoured kisses and soft velveteen touches. Ino couldn't say not to that. She wouldn't have said no anyway. Like a bucket of water for the Wicked Witch of the West, the rose-haired woman was her weakness. The trace of her tongue on Ino's jaw line and her soft trail of lip imprints? They just sealed the deal.

"This is the first in a long time."

"It's suicide, too. Is Sasuke that bad?"

Chouji and Shikamaru sounded surprisingly calm about working with her again. It had been almost a year since she got married. She was eighteen the next month. September was coming; Ino had liked that thought once. But she already felt tied down, old and decrepit. Sakura was her flower in a garden of weeds, her youth. She kept her going. Oh, and she knew this mission was suicide. That was exactly why she accepted it.

Once upon a time, Chouji would have stopped to check that she was feeling ok and Shikamaru would have laughed bitterly, saying that this was what she had always wanted. When she was five and wrote 'Uchiha Ino' in the back of her diary over and over, as if writing it enough would burn it into her memory enough to make it real. She had embellished those pages with hearts and kisses, because love was special. Sasuke understood that. She'd been so certain. Even when Sakura turned her back on her over him. She tried to kid herself that Sasuke cared, that he didn't want to see them fight because deep down he really did care about Ino enough. No matter what he said or did.

"He'll be joining us halfway."

Ino replied flatly, not really paying much attention to their looks. They must have wondered where the real Ino was. Where she crawled into a ball and died before they could do anything about it. But what did it matter? They hadn't saved her any other time. They'd saved Sakura, when she'd dragged them into it. But lifting a finger to help the girl they had known for all their lives was pretty impossible, apparently.

"I was surprised he didn't say goodbye until we saw him again."

Chouji said, running his pudgy hand through his untameable brown hair. Ino laughed, a tinkling sound not dissimilar to the laugh you would imagine of a higher up person. She was well cultured, now. She was noble. She was perfect at all times. If she wasn't, she dreaded to think of the ugliness that would surface for everyone to see.

"I'll see him again."

Ino grinned. Goodbyes were too personal, and showed too much care. Sasuke would never waste one on her. Maybe on Naruto or Kakashi on the rare occasion, but to give one to someone he married (yet never claimed to love like any good Prince) would be unheard of. The words would stop half way out of his throat. Just like they did with Sakura. But Ino didn't have to question her. She liked to think Sakura loved her, and Sakura said she did. Nobody used the word love lightly, right?

Maybe that was why Ino never said goodbye, either. Although she knew it would probably be the last time she ever could. It would be ridiculous to waste words like that. She had better ways to show her care. Sakura knew that. Sakura knew because Ino cared for her like she never did for anyone else. Sakura had felt her careful caresses and feathery lip pressure on her cheeks and lips and stomach. Sakura knew she was loved.

Sakura got what she wanted, got her fairytale.

She got Ino's underwear, too.

VIII. Please Hold

Ino hated phones.

The answering machine saying 'please hold' was possibly the most aggravating thing in the world to her. Please hold, because this person clearly doesn't want to speak to you. Please hold, because this person isn't talking to you – they're talking to the person they love. Please hold, just until they care about you. Which could take another few years, if the current rate is anything to go by. Please hold, love. For me.

But right then Ino wanted those words more than anything. Her battered body was going to end up as some ugly piece of trash. Her arms were peppered with discoloured bruises of every shade from the palest yellow to the deepest purple. Nail scratches lined her arms. The lightning burn was probably the worst thing though, the sore on her back was oozing blood. Or at least, that was what it felt like. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. But she wanted to be held. Please hold. Please hold this fallen Knight.

But Sasuke was battered and bruised and twenty times more beautiful right then, his raven locks splayed all over the floor messily and two of his ribs in the same state. Another two were protruding from his skin, almost asking for the same statement. She briefly wondered what happened to his heart. Delicate things needed to be more careful. She'd learnt that from the Princess and the Pea.

"Broken."

The word made her cock her head, as painful as it was. Or maybe it was the voice. It was the one she wanted, and she didn't know if it was real. Ino had to numbly agree, with a painful nod of her head. Green eyes stared down at her with shock, and then Sakura's knees hit the floor. Ino couldn't blame her for it, no matter how much she wanted to. She'd wanted a fairytale for a long time.

"So fix him, already."

Sakura stopped. Silence. Their eyes met calmly, and it struck her. No matter what she did, Ino could not hate her for it. Ino had the sort of fairytale love for her that nobody else ever had. It was unconditional, unchangeable, unwavering and she had exploited it because she wanted it all to just stop. But it had stopped, now, and Sakura didn't want it anymore. So she raised her hands, carefully, slowly and did what a medic should have known better than to do, because Ino could probably be saved anyway. Chouji and Shikamaru were probably looking for her. She pulled Ino on to her lap, held her hand and promised her that it would be ok in the end.

Then began to fix her, until Ino wanted the 'please hold' to go away again. Because her bones were back in place, her skin was back to normal and all that remained of the cuts was the congealed blood crusted into her skin. But what remained of Sasuke from this sudden slaughter, busted heart against tainted one? The memories. The old promises. The ring on her finger.

Sakura's fairytale.

"I love you too, Ino."

Because this was not a fairytale.

But it was close enough.

VI. Happy Ending

"What do you want?"

"Promise you'll destroy this fairytale."

Promise until your eyes are falling out of their sockets and your fingers are broken from the strain of not being allowed to cross themselves. Say it. Please. Say you'll destroy whatever this thing is, that we live in. This 'fairytale'. It's all I want, Sakura thought.

"What do I get from it?"

You broke all your promises, Ino stopped herself from saying.

"A once upon a time. A story. A happily ever after."

My heart.

"So I'll get nothing?"

Nothing but me.

Yes. I am deranged. Why thank you. 8D

Reviews (especially ones with constructive criticism) are loved.