Butterfly Kisses
hotoffthefryer
A boy aged four
met a girl who knew more
about life, love and happiness;
a place where expectations were less.
The boy aged four, he was a prince,
and he fell in love with that pretty Miss.
And whenever from the sky fell snow,
he thought of the girl named Sakura Haruno.
Four Years Old
Small, stubby, short legs ran throughout the Uchiha Gardens, in search for a taller woman with a bright, wide smile and fire-like red hair that she likes to call Mother. She stumbled over her many overskirts; shortly upset that she had to wear so many when one skirt was much more comfortable than the outlandish number she was wearing now, and into a solid surface.
Her pale pink lips fell into a pout when her butt landed with a muted thud onto the snow-dusted ground, her princess crown falling off her exquisitely curled and pinned rosemary tresses. "Hey, watch where you're goin' next time!" She called out to the person donned in a black tuxedo, and whom she presumed oh-so-rudely ignored her coming form and failed to move out of the way. When the person merely set his gaze into a hard glare, the little girl's faced flashed red in anger. She stomped up from the ground, swiping the snow off her behind as if it were her life's mission, biting her lip with such vigor that all the color exited. "Excuse me," she crossed her arms across her small chest, "but I am a princess and you just knocked me down."
The boy, just as small as she, scoffed, grumbling as he rose from the ground, not even bothering to be rid of the snow covering his rump. "Oh," he smirked, displaying a missing tooth in the front row, "You're Princess Sakura?"
"Who else might I be?"She barked out, biting her tongue when she almost called him a snaggletooth, grabbing her pink and silver-gemmed golden tiara from the ground, dusting away invisible snow and dirt.
The boy shrugged, a mischievous glint running through his obsidian eyes. "At most a duchess," he grinned when Sakura gasped in shock, "maybe even lower."
Sakura grumbled, her little fists clenching at her sides, trembling. "Take that back!"
"Make me, Princess."
"Ugh! Take it back!" She whined, trying with all her might not to slap the boy right there and then. Sure, she was a Princess, but, um, he was getting annoying, and she could decree it okay to hurt him if she wanted to.
When he just stuck out his tongue and smirked again, Sakura screamed out in frustration. "What is your name? I order you to tell me so my Daddy can send you to the dark scary dungeren!"
"I am Uchiha Sasuke," he said arrogantly, slapping his hand to his chest, "Heir to the Uchiha throne."
Sakura's mouth fell wide open. "No WAY! You can't be Prince Sasuke cuz Ino-piggy-chan said that you were like the real Prince Charming and you're not because you're a meanie-sock!"
Meanie-sock...? The word echoed through his head as he studied the girl with the long pink hair done up in a curly half-up-half-down ponytail, creamy smooth skin, and the prettiest green eyes that he'd ever seen in his life. Her dress was a deep maroon color, the golden stitching matching the gold in her crown.
After assessing her, Sasuke just shrugged, "That may be, but I am not the one calling my dearest friends pigs, clenching my fists, grumbling, sticking out my tongue, or threatening to throw people they barely know in dungeons, now am I?"
"Yes, but…I am still going to tell Father on you because you knocked me down." Sakura finished with a defeated pout and a huff, her eyebrows knitting up.
Sasuke smirked. "I was just standing minding my business in my Kaa-san's garden when you came storming past. I think you knocked me down, so I should be telling my Dad on you."
"I did not knock you down!" Sakura screeched, stomping on the ground.
"Did to."
"Not!"
"To!" Sasuke stuck out his tongue when a single angry tear rolled down the puffy cheek of his competitor, and he grinned triumphantly. "And there's nothing—"
A tingling sensation erupted on his cheek, warm and painful, like needles going in and out of the flesh, and his head turned to the side as he thudded to the ground in response to the sheer force. And, dear Kami, he was confused.
Was that a slap? It felt like someone just slapped him. Hard.
"I'm gonna tell on you now!" Sakura sung, before sticking her tongue out in a raspberry and running away, leaving Sasuke holding onto his throbbing cheek, nursing it, and staring as the girl with the long pink hair sprinted away.
The girl with the pink hair and the short little legs, pretty eyes, and innocent soul had slapped him. Oh, yeah, he's telling Itachi the bruise forming on his cheek was an accident.
Eight Years Old
Quick pit-pats ran down the empty hallways of the Haruno castle, her small heel clicks echoing in the estate. She rounded a corner, her waist length pink tresses slapping the brick as she turned, and she composed herself before knocking on the big, twenty-foot tall doors now before her.
Taking a shaky breath, she turned her head to the right and almost screamed, her heart racing fast with adrenaline, face flushing when the person before her smiled in triumph.
"Itachi-kun!" She shrieked, holding a hand dramatically against her budding chest, trying to calm the harsh pounding of her heart. "Why are you here?" Sakura demanded to know, a small growl escaping her throat.
The thirteen-year-old teenager leaning against the wall beside the door, playing as guard, smirked, charcoal eyes crinkling. "No 'Hey nii-kun!', 'What's up?', or 'How was the trip?'"
Sakura rolled her eyes, "I am afraid not. Are your parents here with you as well?"
She was planning to tell her father that Sasuke had broken her crown while they were playing tag, (that she punched him for it) that he glared at her, and then, to top the cake, he called her annoying. Again. (and she gave him a black eye)
"Yes," he rose from the wall, "actually, our fathers are in a meeting. Something about conjoining," Itachi laced his fingers together, "our counties. I don't know how or why, but, I have a hunch."
Sakura grinned. "Back? As that poor fellow who works the bells for the cathedral in Notre Dame? I read about him in the latest, this morning."
Itachi laughed falsely, sarcasm laced in his tone. "Yes, and I also have a wart on my nose."
The rosette laughed quickly, wiping a tear from her eye.
"Anyway, they're having a meeting at the moment, and they told me not to allow any interruption from persons fewer than five feet tall." He shrugged faux concern and hurt in his expression, "I am sorry, Princess."
Sakura pouted, "Itachi-nii! Kaa-san wanted Tou-san to squish a spider in the bathroom and it is positively enormous! She sent me here to fetch him."
The elder Uchiha stared blankly at the innocently smiling face of Sakura, missing teeth here and there, and scoffed. "So? Your mother just needs to w—"
"!" A loud shrill from somewhere in the castle broke the happy silence, and Itachi jumped, Sakura yelping for show, though she knew who it was—her best friend ever in existence: Yamanaka Ino, and the resident drama queen. If she didn't land a lead role in a thriller play, there'd be something wrong in the world. That girl could scream.
"See, Itachi-nii!" Sakura proved, trying to keep her pride to a minimum, because Itachi is so perceptive. He would realize if she was partying a little too much. "Do you want Queen Haruno, my dearest and only mother, to die, naked, wet, alone, and in a bathtub because you fail—"
Itachi muttered a quick, "Go in," before yanking open the huge grand doors, revealing a fancily furnished, brightly lit, and almost packed meeting hall. Sakura skipped in, a happy grin on her face. Sasuke Uchiha was going to get in trouble, yes, in trouble!
When both assorted shades of green and different variations of black and brown eyes flicked in her direction, she felt like she was spotlighted immediately. It would've been nice to know that all the Uchiha Royals were going to be here! She knew her family was in there, heck, it is her castle, after all. There weren't any women, so that must mean they were having one of those meetings about government, military and all that other crud.
Sakura's father, Haruno Kenji, seated in his rightful position at the head of the meeting table, lifted a lightly colored blond eyebrow, and asked, "What is it, Blossom? You're interrupting."
"Um…" Sakura pulled a lose strand of hair behind her ear in nerves. She wasn't expecting King Fugaku, otherwise known as Sasuke's dad, to be there, staring at her with those dark eyes that were always seemingly criticizing. "Sasuke and I were playing tag and he broke my crown."
She pulled an, indeed, snapped crown from a pocket in her dress, jewels, diamonds, and sapphires that were supposed to match her blue dress, broken into irredeemable pieces. Feeling incredibly stupid now, she mumbled, "See? Broken."
A low rumble of laughter was her reply, and after a second or two Sakura giggled nervously with them, covering her face in a way she hoped was inconspicuous to cover the forming blush. What was so funny? She just told on Sasuke and they're…laughing?
Her father's gentle green eyes twinkled when he waved Sakura toward him. "Come here, Sakura-hime."
Sakura nodded meekly and teetered as quickly as she could without running in her first real pair of heeled shoes to her father, the blush on her cheeks still burning, but now because the roaring laughter that once filled the room was gone as quickly as it came. She bent down, "Yes, Father?"
He pulled her a little closer, and then whispered in her ear with a smile, "Go get me that Uchiha. I'd like to talk to him."
The rosette smiled; her grin as beautiful as her mother's, her father noted, and nodded giddily. "Hai, Tou-san. I will be right back!"
Sasuke Uchiha's gonna get in trouble!
Ten Years Old
Sasuke sat uncomfortably on a bed, which was a lot to say, given that this was his castle and, well, it was his bed—he slept in it every single night. However, the man sitting across from him was sitting on his blue child-sized sofa, though the King was seated so seriously that one would think he was in a meeting hall.
Sasuke itched to run and leave but, Sakura had called him from training so urgently that he figured it had to be something important, nothing you can make up an excuse to avoid. The Haruno cleared his throat, "How are you, Little Uchiha?"
It was a nickname, Sasuke told himself, one that he wouldn't let slip out of any other mouth without him beating the leaving crap out of them. Keeping his grimace to a low, Sasuke muttered quickly, "Fine," and after a second he added out of practiced respect toward higher ranks and manners, "And you, sir?"
"Very well, thank you. I do have a matter to discuss with you, however."
A groan of detest almost slipped from Sasuke's lips. Every time—every single time—a conversation started like that, he did something wrong. Even though nothing he did was wrong. And, somehow, it always had something to do with 'Princess' Sakura. That girl was a demon with pink hair, and he could count over half of the bruises and scabs on his body as violent acts from her and her crazy temper.
It's ridiculous. He doesn't do anything but; maybe, lead her on with a few taunts. That's it. He didn't ask her to swipe his sword from his belt and swing it at him, dreadfully miss, and then, consequently, nearly kill his uncle Hiro. Why in the world would he ask for the near-death of his own family?
Sasuke sighed, dark eyes downcast, "Oh, really?"
Mr. Haruno laughed heartily at the young boy's expression. "You're not the nearest bit in trouble, Sasuke-san," Sasuke let out a breath he was unconsciously holding, "though; you do have a lot of explaining to do."
"Explaining?" The ten-year-old echoed, a dark eyebrow quirking, "About what should I be explaining?"
Sasuke's not stupid. He knows full and well what the King is talking about, well, now that he said he wasn't going to be in trouble. The King was a fair man and would listen to a story fully, with the explainer's point-of-view. Sasuke knew that, but the fact that he wasn't listing off punishments was a little unsettling. The Haruno man had grown to be like a second father to the Uchiha, a more lenient one, some would say, but discerning nonetheless.
The man with the platinum blond hair tipped his head, shrugging. "I was not the one who summoned this meeting; my daughter wanted me to talk to you about something. She said you would know what about."
A light pink dusted Sasuke's slightly puffy cheeks, his throat seemingly closing in on itself. Green eyes stared at him levelly, expectant of an answer, yes, but also reading his every motion. The Uchiha scratched his cheek, a cheap way to cover the growing redness appearing in the area. His eyes roamed the room and widened slightly upon landing on a specific item.
"It's twelve, sir," Sasuke said quickly, slowing only slightly to cover the complete relief and happiness that coursed through his body after glancing toward the clock. "My mother would be upset to see me any later to the noontime meal."
The King nodded, a small smile broadening his face. "Of course, I understand. Best believe that we will be continuing this conversation, Little Uchiha."
Sasuke suppressed a tight groan as he bowed at his waist in respects to the blond man. Sneakily he crossed his fingers behind his back, promising, "Assuredly, sir." He bent straight after a few moments and turned on his heel walking with concentrated poise and speed.
"Oh, and Sasuke!" the King called behind the young prince. "I saw you cross your fingers—you should not bow so lowly to the ground. Not that I don't trust you fully, but," Sasuke tightened at the mouth, finally turning to face the man, "why don't you give me the condensed version?"
He took a couple soothing breaths, then cleared his throat, a blush receding. "I showed her around the castle yesterday, if that's what you think she's referring too."
King Haruno grinned. "Not exactly," he pulled a small ring from out of one of his pockets, "but pretty close. Does this look familiar, Little Uchiha? My daughter came home wearing it—wouldn't take it off to wash her hands. This…is what I want you to tell me about."
Sasuke couldn't even control the huge blush covering his face now.
Eleven Years Old
It was a short while later, one of the days the two of them—he and Sakura—actually got along for longer than five minutes before one of them decided to start throwing insults, ultimately leading to a fight. It was the beginning of the Spring Festival, and this year the Uchiha's were hosting. The Haruno family, being close friends to the Uchihas, was invited to stay in the castle a week prior to the actual activities.
Sakura walked idly in a section of the exquisite pathways in the garden, a stream and traditional bridges connecting the land. Colorful koi fish played in the water and accented the multiple flowers sprouting from the healthy green grass. A big, lively sakura tree wriggled with the wind, some of its blossoms falling from the branch. Her gentle hand reached out for her namesake, her little silver ring glistening in the sunlight. Big green eyes searched for the tree, finding it and a young boy around her age training with it. As in cutting up her namesake with his sword.
Anger welled up in her body, and she stormed over to him, not paying any attention to the mud and water ruining her skirts. When she reached the boy, she grumbled, "Sasuke-kun! What are you doing to that tree? It did nothing to you and you're cutting it all up!"
Said boy just scoffed, pulling the metal weapon from the bark. "So? Why're you here anyway, Sakura? The festival doesn't begin until—"
"My birthday," Sakura interrupted, "the festival begins on my birthday."
Sasuke smirked. "Well excuse me for not marking that on the calendar I carry with me everywhere I go. You never answered my question."
"Your parents invited my family to stay before the festival began. Now, allow me to return the favor with a question of my own; why are you training with a perfectly harmless, defenseless tree! I know there are more than enough dummies, not including yourself, in your castle's inventory."
The younger of the Uchiha princes ignored the quick snip at his intelligence and shrugged.
"Trees don't dull the metal of my sword as the dummies do."
"Then go use an ugly tree."
"I am using an ugly tree," Sasuke jeered. "It reminds me so much of you in that way."
Sakura gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Take that back!"
"Make me, Princess! But, be wise, I am the one wielding a sword right now."
"Well I'm going wield that sword up your a—"
The wind blew, moving Sasuke's ebony bangs westward with it. "Are those the words of a princess?"
There was a long silence, Sakura staring with narrowed apple green eyes at Sasuke, lip slightly pouted in upset, while Sasuke just watched her with amused obsidian eyes, a smirk playing on his flawless skin.
Sakura huffed, turning away from him as she retreated toward her carriage, parked on the opposite end of the castle. "Well, fine, be of that immature nature, you meanie-sock."
Sasuke echoed her words tauntingly, returning to his training, formations, and such, until, with a start, he realized what she said. She'd called him a meanie-sock…and why did that whole situation before seem so…familiar?
He dropped his sword into the spring grass, not even a thud following it, and ran after the girl, hopping over decorative rocks and little streams. His hand reached out to grasp her forearm, and turn her until she faced him.
She stared blankly at him, eyeing the connection between her arm and his hand. Color began to dust her cheeks, but she turned her head swiftly, with a weak demand of, "Would you let go of my arm?"
He did so, and then cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "There. I, um—it's been a while since you've been here, has it not?"
"…," Sakura watched him carefully, "Yes."
"Would I still be a meanie-sock if I showed you around, Princess?"
"No," She grinned, blushing, "I would be honored, Prince."
Fourteen Years Old
"Sasuke is exceedingly spectacular, Father," Sakura drawled, adoring the way the silver band around her finger glistened in the sun while the King signed papers and declarations. "Have I told you about the time when he was training with Itachi-kun and he won, Father?"
The questioned man ran a hand over his face, rubbing his temples to ease a coming headache. He shuffled through a pile of treaties that he had breezed through quickly and dismissed even faster, attempting to drown out the sound of his daughter's voice.
She suddenly appeared at the foot of his desk, head balanced delicately in her two hands. "Father, do you recall the incident wherein Sasuke broke into our kitchen inventory in the dead of night with a mind and stomach geared toward tomatoes?"
Her angelic face lit beautifully with a grin he did not cause, and the King—not wanting to upset her, though he was distraught himself with the situation he had put himself into by asking her of her presence—sighed quietly. "No, Sakura-hime," he signed his signature messily on a piece of parchment, "Please, darling, do enlighten me."
"Well, Father, he did reach the kitchen," she scoffed though her smile never faltered, "but when he reached his quarters, he had not tomatoes with him, but apples. How he failed to notice the difference in texture never ceases to amaze me…Father?"
The King looked at his daughter, who was, once again, examining the silver band around her ring finger. He suddenly regretted returning the item to her, for now she was more obsessed the jewelry than ever before. He'd never have the opportunity to pry the ring away from her now. "Yes, Sakura-hime," he said absently, eyes focused on his documents.
She suddenly grew silent, butterflies inhabiting her chest and abdomen. Sakura fingered her hair behind her ears, clearing her throat. "I was wondering when the Uchihas would be returning, or we visiting their castle. Anytime soon, I hope?"
"Blossom," he breathed, hoping to avoid the topic that would surely arise. The honest answer was that the Uchiha District was in an internal feud, and had been for the past two and a half to three years. Though the Haruno families had very much wanted to aid their lifelong friends in their time of need…he sighed, looking toward his daughter. The two counties, though they were cordial, were not ready for a direct alliance in terms of fighting together. Not yet. The King put a smile on his wrinkling face, "Why don't you ask Ino-chan? I'm sure she knows more than I."
Sakura was thrown aback at the answer. No one knew more on matters than her father did. She nodded slowly, forced mute by her shock. She mumbled an okay as she placed one leg behind the other in a curtsy, dipping her head shortly. There was something he didn't want her to know.
"I will ask Ino, then, Father."
A/N: Hey, everyone! For those who follow me, Ugly is still in progress. I was stuck in the middle of a section, but it'll be done. In terms of this story, I think that it will by a three-shot. Are there three-shots? I don't know but I guess I'll be the first. Ha.
Review!
~fryer
