This is a work of derivative fiction. All characters and the world in which they live are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.
Porcelain
His skin was the first thing Ino saw.
Ivory skin, with veins close beneath the surface of his wrists like the thin delicate veins of a petal. Skin so pale that in the moonlight it was almost luminous.
A porcelain doll.
The second thing Ino saw was how his skin sang a perfect harmony with his hair. Black hair, blue-black sometimes, like the dark sheen of a magpie's wing.
Black eyes, too, and fathomless, as though he had seen infinite miseries and kept them all to himself.
He was perfect.
And when she smiled, and breathed, "Sasuke..."
Sai only stared.
/
She had thought he was enough.
Thought he could slip into that empty space in her mind like he slipped into the empty space in Team Seven.
She had thought him a doll, to be dressed up in the idea of someone else.
But white skin and black hair could not hide the fact that Sai didn't flinch when she touched his hand.
It was only then that she knew he was no substitute. When she realised he would never be repulsed by her. Never hate her.
Her illusion crumbled the moment she realised he wouldn't hurt her like Sasuke.
A/N: I didn't want to ruin it, so I kept the second character's identity hidden in the description.
Feedback?