I always see you painting sitting on that park bench, staring at the sky that changes each day. I brush past you, always looking over my shoulder just to look at the world you are creating with precise strokes of a paintbrush. Sometimes I think I understand that world – the beautiful hues and the emotions that flow from that small piece of paper. Sometimes I don't understand – why did you use those colors and those strokes?

I see you painting so many worlds...
And sometimes I wonder –
Would I be part of them one day?

my prince, my princess
by: paperbagface

disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine.
A/n: Oneshot collection, yay! I'm sorry for my lack of updating, but my senior year of high school is busy busy! I hope everyone had happy holidays and I wish all of you a very happy new year! C:

fairytale 1. the sky princess & her rainbow prince

The first time I see you is when I'm taking a walk through the park in autumn. The leaves were swirling about you in reds, oranges, and yellows under the blue sky; your pink hair twirled in dances around your face and your apple green eyes were shining bright under the autumn sun. You were focused on a painting; there was a sketchbook on your lap and a palette of watercolors next to you on the park bench.

I didn't know who you were, and at that moment I don't think I cared. When I brushed past you, your simple painting on that canvas in the park captured my eyes. I was no art critic, nor did I know anything about art, but I knew that you were skilled enough to hold exhibits or even win some prestigious prizes.

You were painting the sky. You were a fourth done, yet there was something about your unfinished painting that inspired me. I think it was that the true blue of your sky was like an entire world in its own; it was like if there was some sort of magic that could place me in me right in the middle of your painting. It was as if you were a god, designing your own world of blue skies and autumn leaves.

I didn't say anything to you. I walked right past you, hands shoved in my pockets and my world encompassed with the music that pounded through my headphones.

I was surprised when I saw you take a seat a few booths away from me in the local café a few days after I first saw you. Your materials and supplies for creating another world are sitting right beside you, yet you were unfamiliar to me merely because you weren't painting; you weren't a god of some unfinished world. Rather, you were just human.

Your eyes met mine for a few seconds, and your lips formed a small smile. I looked away, and I felt the heat rush to my face to color my cheeks the embarrassing pink. When I stole another glance at you, you were already sipping away on that unknown drink that you ordered. You had a small sketchbook in front of you, and your right hand was lightly making strokes on the paper to create another world.

You were Untouchable again. I took a sip of my drink and stared outside of the café window, tapping my fingers against the table. I didn't really know what prompted me to, but I felt something unfamiliar rush through my veins; I left the café and ran to my apartment, where I picked up my dusty guitar, and started strumming.

I didn't walk by the park for a few months after that. I was busy during the daytime practicing with my band mates from high school; it had been around five years since we had broken up after our bassist graduated from high school. But recently, after we had all finished our four years of university, our rhythm guitarist began calling me again to play lead guitar and sing. But I hadn't played, nor did I have the inspiration to write song lyrics again, so I kept refusing.

But after I saw your unfinished painting – after you smiled that welcoming smile – inspiration rushed through me. I picked up my guitar that had been sitting in the corner of my apartment for the past five years, and began humming to the rhythm. My love for playing somehow returned to me, and I finally accepted the request to reform our old band that had been our glory days in high school.

Occasionally I would take a stroll through the park after a late night gig. I didn't expect to see you there, as all the streets in cities were dangerous for women at night. But after a particularly successful performance in one of the most popular bars in the city, I saw you sitting on the same park bench painting. I could see your breath form clouds from your mouth each time you exhaled, but your strokes never wavered or shivered. They were steady in finishing the world that you were creating, and I was almost fascinated.

I brushed past you again, but I still looked over my shoulder to look at your painting. You were painting the night sky, creating stars in the right places and painting the glowing moon to contrast against the onyx sky. I was captured by that world again.

"Good night," you said. Your voice was soft and sweet, and for some odd reason I wasn't surprised.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at you. You were turned away from your unfinished world, and you were smiling at me.

"Good night," I finally said.

You smiled again and turned away, your paintbrush once again meeting your canvas. You didn't say anything more to me, nor did you spare me another glance. I wasn't sure why you talked to me, but when I walked away, the cold air stung my cheeks that were hot from embarrassment.

I arrived in my apartment shortly after, and I dropped all my things on my bed. I took a seat on my desk, and then song lyrics suddenly poured out from me.

I didn't see you at the park for a few months after our first conversation. A lot changed in the few months of your absence. After a performance in one of the city's pubs, my band was scouted. My life became busy with recording our debut single, and there was rarely any time for me to stroll by the park to see if you were painting the sky again.

But when I did see you again, I was shocked. My father had forced me to come to a high society ball since my brother disappeared, and when I walked into the room full of people I haven't seen in years, I saw you in a pretty black dress. I don't know how I spotted you in a large crowd, because even with your bubblegum pink hair and your green eyes, there was a fairly large amount of people around you. You turned my way, your eyes wide. I had to loosen my tie because I felt my face heat up with embarrassment again, and then the world seemed to turn slowly as you began walking towards me.

"I knew it was you," you said.

I looked at you, rather confused at your cryptic words. You laughed, and I wondered when we had gotten to such familiar terms. After all, you've only said two words to me prior to our meeting today.

"Pardon?" I asked, formal words gushing from my mouth out of habit.

"You're the person I see walking in the park with his guitar on his back. Right?"

My heart thumped loudly against my chest because I didn't know you noticed me. You smiled and laughed again, and I thought that the invisible barrier that had been between us had just been shattered by a stroke of fate.

"I – guess I sort of knew you were Mr. Uchiha's son. I remember you when we were kids."

"That's – impossible," I replied, because it really was. After family problems my first year of junior high, my father shunned me from the family and forced me to live alone – for more than ten years, I had been living with minimal contact with my family.

"Don't you remember me, Sasuke?" You sincerely asked.

My heart thumped loudly again, and I felt my cheeks heat up. I never knew you would know my name.

I couldn't answer your question, because my father immediately cut into our conversation and pulled me away. I watched you disappear in the large crowd, my mind in a mess, but I still couldn't remember a time when I knew you before I saw you paint. When I met with my mother a few moments later, I immediately asked her about you.

"Haruno Sakura? I believe you met her once, Sasu-chan," my mother said. "Before you moved out, the Harunos became nouveau riche. She was at a ball, and she talked to you."

Mother smiled while she told me of her memory of you. But why didn't I have any memories of you?

How could I – forget you?

"Mother, why can't I remember?"

The look in Mother's eyes after I asked my question haunted me. It was pained – very remorseful.

"Sakura always paints the sky, doesn't she?" Mother asked, avoiding my question.

I nodded, as it's true. The only thing I've ever seen you paint was the sky.

"I wonder why that's true, Sasuke?"

She smiled and turned away from me, leaving me to my own world as people passed by me. I tried to look for you in the crowd again, but I couldn't find you. You disappeared.

A few days after, I saw you in the park again. You were painting as usual, and I rather liked the natural image much more than the formal one I had seen at the ball. I prepare myself for the usual lack of conversation, but before I can completely "escape" from you, you call out to me for the first time. At least – for the first time, merely as Haruno Sakura, to me, Uchiha Sasuke.

"Sasuke."

I turned to look at you, surprised. You had a pretty smile on your lips, and your hair twirled in the spring breezes.

"I'm sorry if I said anything odd at the ball the other day," you said, taking a moment to dab on another stroke of paint before continuing. "It must have been – creepy of me, I guess."

I hesitated for a few moments, but then I took a seat beside you on the park bench. It was an exhilarating feeling sitting before a canvas – an unfinished world that's slowly being created after each of your strokes. It was as if I had taken a step into your world. It was as if we were – acquaintances at least.

"Sorry," I said, merely because I had no idea what else to say.

You laughed, but you didn't look at me. You continued painting – that day, the sky is a bright blue with tints of purple and green – and I felt like I had somehow ventured into dangerous territory.

"Is your guitar acoustic?"

I blinked at your random question for a moment, before nodding. I was sort of relieved that I always carried my acoustic for practices – during the daytime – and only had my electric with me for gigs and special rehearsals.

"Wanna play a song for me?"

"I – guess," I said.

You smiled, and I begin to unpack my acoustic. I begin to strum the song that I had been working on for the past few weeks, humming the melody of the vocals.

"No words?"

"They're not finished yet. That's why I'm just humming the melody."

"Oh."

We didn't exchange any more words after that. I continued humming and strumming, secretly repeating verses and the chorus just so our time together wouldn't be spent in awkward silence. You continued on painting the sky, each stroke making that canvas more beautiful. After a while, you looked at me again, and I saw your eyes wander to the corner of my guitar.

"Is that a rainbow?" You asked.

You pointed to the mark that's been on my guitar for as long as I remember – and I had that guitar from the moment I knew how to play. I stared at it for a few moments before looking at you again.

"I guess so."

"Why a rainbow?"

I paused for a few moments before I finally replied with a simple, "I don't know."

You smiled, but I knew that it was forced. I could see the pain in your eyes. I could sense your discomfort when you continued painting again, because your strokes had changed. Your world was changing.

We would start talking each time I ran into you after that. We still weren't quite "friends", but we were more than acquaintances. I suppose we were just in that in-between stage where we were still venturing in new territory to discover the boundaries that would be laid down when we became friends.

But a few weeks later, my life changed. My father announced my inheritance – the one he had taken away from me when I was shunned back in junior high – and I immediately became the center of public attention again. I was swept away by high society on one end of my life, and on the other end I was busy recording in the studio for my band. I could never see you in the park, and we could never talk at balls or whatnot because we were in different worlds.

"Sasuke, watch – "

I heard your scream, but I didn't know what you meant until I saw headlights grow brighter in my eyes. I jumped with all my might, but everything still faded to black.

"What are you painting?"

You were in a pretty red dress, and your hair was cutely held behind your ears with a pretty barrette. I saw you sitting in the grass fields a few minutes away from my house, a large sketchbook on your lap and finger-paints messily sprawled in the grass.

"The sky!" You happily said, the largest smile on your lips.

"Why?"

You giggled and continued painting with your fingers. I took a seat next to you and curiously watched you finish your work of art, wondering why there was purple and pink in a sky that was obviously blue.

"Because the sky always changes! So I want to draw all of them!"

"But why the sky?"

You looked at me so innocently, your cheeks painted a pretty pink.

"Cause it's like it's own world."

I think we were seven years old, then.

"You're that boy!"

I saw you again at the beginning of junior high – when we were around twelve. You were wearing a simple green dress that brought out your eyes.

"You're – sky girl."

You laughed and enthusiastically nodded.

"Yeah! I've painted so many since then! I'll show you!"

" – And how will you go about showing me?"

You stared at me for a few moments before breaking out in a fit of giggles.

"This is my house!"

I took a look around me in the exquisite home where the latest high society party was being held. There were pictures of Mr. And Mrs. Haruno all around the main room, but they looked nothing like you.

"I'm Sakura. Haruno Sakura – their daughter!"

I took a closer look at the pictures, and saw Mr. Haruno had green eyes. They weren't the same shade, as yours were brighter and more apple, yet I could see the resemblance.

"Sorry. I'm – "

"Uchiha Sasuke," you cut in for me, a small smile on your lips. "Everyone knows who you are."

You took my hand and pulled me through your mansion of a house until we reached a room filled with your paintings of the sky. At first sight, most of them looked like exact copies, but when I looked closer, I could see the difference. The difference in the colors and strokes you used, the difference in the emotions you put in each pigment of paint on those canvases.

"This one has a rainbow," I pointed out.

It was my favorite, because it was the brightest one that was full of more colors. You smiled and nodded.

"That was the sky when I first met you! So, I guess if I'm sky girl, you can be rainbow boy?"

"Please, spare me."

You laughed, "I guess that sounds too misleading."

I looked at all your paintings in silence. You just hummed an unknown melody and followed me as I circled the room.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

I turned away from your painting that painted the sky on a rainy day to look at you. Your apple green eyes were wide with innocence.

"Can we – be friends?"

I turned around and spotted the painting you had done when we were seven. It was amateur looking compared to your more recent ones, but it was still my favorite. I think the rainbow would always be my favorite.

"Yeah."

"Oh, you play guitar!"

I was strumming away on the acoustic my mother had given me a few years back. I was playing in the field where we had first met, and you walked up to me with all your painting materials.

"Yeah. Since a few years ago."

You smiled and continued letting me play a random song full of chords that were messily put together. You got your watercolors sprawled around you in the grass, and your canvas was securely placed in your lap.

"Hey, Sasuke."

I strummed the last chord and looked at you. You smiled and pointed to the sky. It was clear – a beautiful cerulean blue that was only that true after it rained. There was a rainbow.

"You really are rainbow boy."

I almost smiled.

"I guess I am."

"May I draw something on your guitar?"

I looked at you curiously, and your apple green eyes were wide again. I handed my acoustic over to you, because I could trust you with anything artistic. You took colored sharpie pens from your pack of supplies.

"Don't tell me – "

You giggled and quickly finished and handed my guitar back to me.

"Rainbow boy forever."

"Sasuke! Sasuke, watch – !"

There was a car accident a few weeks later. I moved out of my family's house, and I didn't see you for more than ten years.

I woke up in a hospital room. I was still nauseous from the side effects of the anesthesia, and my entire body was sore and covered in bandages. I felt a warm pressure on my left hand, and slowly turned my head to see you holding on to my hand, your pink hair like a halo spread across the hospital sheets. And then you woke up, your green eyes wide when they met with mine.

"Sa – "

"Sky girl," I coarsely said.

Tears fell from your eyes, but your smile was still angelic. You gripped my hand tighter, and I could almost feel your heartbeat through our skin.

"Rainbow boy," you murmured.

My life changed after that. My parents were hesitant to have me wandering around public, as the car accident was most likely planned to kill me and strip me of my inheritance. But then, my idiot of an older brother suddenly returned after ten years, and my father renounced my inheritance of his own will – because Itachi would always be Father's favorite, no matter the circumstances – to rightfully return it to the oldest son and heir.

You visited me in the week where I was stuck in the hospital, and I was really grateful. You would sit beside me, turned to the side to paint the sky out of the hospital window. I felt graced to watch you create another world right before my eyes; to me, it was just simply amazing that it was possible to create such worlds. Maybe it was then that I realized that life could never be taken for granted, and that each thing we did could very well be our own crafted worlds. Maybe it was then that I started wondering if I would ever be part of yours.

I guess I fell in love with you in my dreams – when all my memories flooded back to me while I was still knocked out from anesthesia. I don't think those feelings ever stopped – or ever will stop. Actually, whenever I looked at you painting away your skies, I would fall even harder.

I found myself wanting to be someone worthy of some sort of – sky princess.


let me fall into your skies
and fly through your clouds
because i swear, i swear that
i'll find you in the crowds
and cry out to passerbys

'please, dear god, please just
let me be part of that world'

I finally finished writing the song that's been lingering in my head from the moment we first met a few days later. I packed my acoustic guitar in its case and sprinted out of my apartment, ready to look for you in that park so I could finally sing it to you. For some reason, at that very moment, I wanted so badly to pour my heart out to you and let you know that I sort of liked you a lot.

But – you weren't there. You weren't there for the entire week that I wanted to sing to you. So on the last day of that week, I flipped out my phone and dialed.

"Naruto. Yeah. It's me. I finished that song I told you about. Let's go record it. Yeah. See you in five."

If you ask me whether I planned everything or if I made it off the top of my head, at that moment, I would've said that it was a spontaneous move that had no significance for the future whatsoever. But, I guess if you asked me now, I'd probably say that I planned everything just to save some face.

I gave you tickets to our debut performance when I saw you in the park again. You smiled and promised me you would come, and our conversation ended there; it was surprisingly short for not having seen each other in weeks. So when I stepped onto stage, electric guitar hanging on my strap, I saw you in the crowds of fans with your apple green eyes wide with curiosity.

I didn't look at any other fans. I sang to you the songs that I wrote after so many days of wanting to become part of your world. I don't think you understood the lyrics though – at least, the lyrics of our debut single that was recorded before I finished the song. Then it was the end of our single, and the crowd was going crazy with surprise and support. I turned to Naruto – our rhythm guitarist – and he smiled at me. I disappeared offstage for a few moments to grab my acoustic, and my other bandmates – minus Naruto – walked off the stage.

And I sang my heart out to you. I think you understood the lyrics, because you had your hands covering your mouth and your eyes were glittering more than usual; I think you were crying. I couldn't really count that as a confession, because the "I like you a lot" could only be understood if you read between the lines.

But I think you knew.


and i'll wait below the tower of clouds
waiting for the sky princess to
descend from her castle

so i can finally sing aloud

'please, please just
let me be your sunlight'

I saw you in the park the next day. I was wearing a beanie and sunglasses to hide my identity, and my headphones replayed music in my ears as I strolled through the park attempting to avoid my new fanbase. You smiled the moment you saw me yards away, and giggled when I took a seat next to you on the park bench.

"Your concert last night was amazing. Thank you for inviting me," you timidly said, taking a moment to observe the sky before returning to your painting.

"No problem. Thanks for coming."

I was uneasy in the moments of silence between us, because I was still unsure if you caught my "confession" or not. But then you turned to me and smiled, and your slender fingers pointed to your finished painting.

"Rainbow boy," you said, pointing to the sky.

I sort of laughed, thinking of all the irony and why on earth I had to be "rainbow boy". Then you pointed to your painting again, and then I noticed that there was a dove flying right beside the rainbow.

"I think – that if there's a sky princess, then there should be a ... rainbow prince," you shyly began, averting your eyes from your painting to meet mine. "Because, well, if someone's waiting for the sky princess to descend from her castle, then what about the sky princess? What if she was waiting in her castle for the – rainbow prince – who was as bright as sunlight in her world? What if – the sky princess and the rainbow prince were in different worlds – but they were actually just waiting for – for something like a dove to connect them?"

You blushed and looked away, hands hastily putting away your materials. I softly chuckled and shook my head at your antics, but I guess what you said was right. You were a painter, and I was a band member; you were the daughter of corporate owners, and I was the son of company presidents. We had always been part of the same worlds – part of the artistic world, and part of the world of high society – yet we had always lacked a connection.

We just needed – a dove to connect us.

"You're not painting the sky today."

We were engaged a year after our sort of confessions, and a few months after our engagement, our parents gave us a house – well, it was more like a mansion – to move into. I was returning home from the recording studio, and you were sitting in our courtyard painting.

"No, silly! This is still the sky. Look closer!"

You smiled and continued painting, and I stood behind you watching you finish your world. But what you said was true – it was still really a painting of the sky, yet it was different. Your paintings were usually just focused on the sky; the sky was everything, and besides the sky and few supporting figures, there was nothing else. But in this painting, the sky was – the background. The sky was the world, but it was more like – the boundaries to the world, not the world.

There was a sky princess on the right. You painted her with pretty, light blue flowing hair, and her dress was white and fluffy like the clouds. Then there was a rainbow prince on the left, and his clothes were bright like sunlight and his hair was a platinum blond. They were holding hands – they were connected.

I guess – they were connected through the sky.

"It's the sky princess and the rainbow prince!"

I smiled and kissed your cheek, holding your left hand while you added the finishing touches to your painting. Then you stood up from your place and pulled me to the ground, and we lay in the soft grass of our courtyard staring at the sky. I loved the feeling of your hand in mine, and I smiled as the rainbow disappeared and the sun shone brighter in the sky.

"I think we'll stay like this forever," I murmured.

You smiled and nodded.

"Of course we will, silly! 'Cause how could there ever be a rainbow without a sky?"

And suddenly, I realized that I had always been part of your world.

the sky princess & her rainbow prince: end