I don't often get inspiration for yuri, but these two are an exception. They're practically cannon in my opinion, and the possibilities of twistedness make my muse happy. I restrained her though, so there's no graphic shota or scarily warped logic.
That said I need to warn the more conservative of you that what follows will contain underage girls doing slightly sexual things. Slightly being the operative word. If this offends you, I suggest you leave.
This is for the 100 Themes Challenge over on deviantART, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing.
31) Flowers
Once upon a time, boys didn't exist.
Well, they existed, but only as messy-muddy-shouty-nasty creatures who sometimes came round to play and ended up breaking things. They didn't exist the way they did now, all rolling muscles and flickering glances, calloused fingers grasping, so much larger than her own hand.
Once upon a time there had only been girls to make her breath catch. Only girls to play with, to braid one another's' hair with fingertips that brought out goosebumps down her spine. To sit with quietly, looking at books or to run around the shops with, trying on every piece of clothing they could, whether it fitted or not. They used to share changing rooms too, once upon a time.
#
She first saw the new girl on Tuesday. She'd heard there wasn't much to see, that she wouldn't like someone with such a big forehead. She'd been told a lot of things, but they all flew out of her head when she saw the girl. She looked so small, so fragile, and a host of feelings swarmed through her at the sound of those quiet sobs.
She didn't even think, she just walked over and sat down. The girl didn't look up, and before she knew it she was speaking.
"Everyone always calls you Billboard Brow and picks on you..." She trailed off, suddenly realizing that might not be the best way to start o conversation. Still, the girl looked up, bright green eyes peeking out shyly between strands of hair. Pink hair. It would be beautiful if it wasn't damp and tangled.
Maybe they could be friends.
#
They sat in a field of flowers, learning the different names for homework. The ground was littered with sakura petals, but she avoided stepping on them. They were too beautiful to be crushed underfoot.
Her Sakura didn't bother avoiding them, but her footsteps were light and didn't even leave marks, though she knew the petals felt it. Just like she could still feel the hand that had held hers now, long after she had let it go, having led them to the very middle of the field.
#
She was ten when they first kissed, Sakura still only nine. They'd been talking about boys, the boys who were just beginning to make an appearance in their world as real people. She still didn't understand what was so great about them, but Sakura liked Sasuke, so she was happy to talk about him as long as her friend wanted to.
She didn't want to be forgotten in favor of a boy.
Eventually, the talk turned to kissing, of how they needed to be good at it, or else (as Sakura said so vehemently) no boy would ever look twice at them. She didn't especially want a boy looking a her even once, but she didn't want to argue so she went along with it.
And then Sakura asked if she thought they should kiss each other as practice, and she was meant to be the leader of the two of them, so of course she said yes.
It was strange, nothing like when her papa kissed her goodnight. Much softer, much slower. It made shivers run over her skin, and she decided at that moment that Sasuke must never be allowed to like Sakura. He didn't deserve anything as nice as this.
#
It was difficult, and it required the use of all her ninja skills, but she found out a lot about him. She snuck out at night and watched him sleeping, even as nightmares made him cry out and tangle his feet in the bedclothes. He didn't like girls, the same way she didn't like boys, only he didn't really like anybody much, preferring to be alone. He trained almost all the time, and he didn't like touching people. He watched the adult ninja, especially the ANBU, whenever they were around, with an intensity that frightened her. He never visited the graves of his parents.
It was enough information to make a plan.
She told Sakura about him. She said he liked really feminine girls, with long shiny hair, without many ninja skills. That he missed his parents and just wanted somebody to look after him, to hold him like his mother used to.
She would have felt bad for lying, but she was a good kunoichi, top of her class at espionage, so she was used to it. It was only to save Sakura from a boy who didn't deserve her anyway.
#
Somehow, somebody had found out about her stalking. They misinterpreted it, thinking she liked him, but that was almost as bad as the truth. And the look on Sakura's face when she found out was almost worse than the thought of Sasuke getting her.
Almost, but not quite.
So she changed the plan a little, and chased after him herself. She did all the things she knew would annoy him, and because she'd always been the leader, Sakura did them too. They were still friends, sort of.
They didn't kiss again, but it didn't matter. Half-friendly fights were more than enough to set her skin alight, the feel of flesh on flesh and a harsh hand pushing against her developing breasts making her pant through more than just exertion; the arch of that soft neck red were her fingernails had scraped making her stumble when she let her eyes stray to it.
Green eyes flashed fire at her and she returned it with her own, confident that love and hate were opposite sides of an ever-spinning coin. Roses always had thorns.
She would never lose Sakura to anybody.
See how cannon they are? If you don't believe me, go look over the flashbacks during the chuunin exams. They clearly have more than simple platonic feelings going on there.
Anyway, feedback would make me very happy, as I'm not at all confident about my ability to write shoujo-ai. That, and feedback always makes me feel good because then I know I'm doing something right!