a/n: Oneshots, when I feel like it. I love drabbles. :DThe rating is T for some slight language and etc... nothing major. Review if you want – couples will vary. Sakura gets extra love for being underloved. Feel free to PM me with suggestions if you'd like – I'm happy to answer anything, as long as it's more specific than just a character or couple. Now: read on!
She was made of porcelain.
She was a beautiful kind of person; the kind with that beautiful, luminous skin that most Japanese girls tenderly work to acheive. Skin that glowed like the moon.
To him, at that time, she was as unattainable as the moon itself.
She was a fragile kind of person, the kind of person who burst into tears and worried and fretted and hoped that her beloved dark-haired bastard wouldn't die or stab her in the heart and back and soul.
She was a weak kind of person. She wept, she mourned; for a while it didn't seem that she would ever be able to stand up on her own feet with his support. It seemed that she would never bother with picking up her own pathetic shards and gluing them together. He had to take her hands and lead them through the motions, until she stopped crying and started hardening.
Now, he is the one and only who sees what she is truly made of: rock.
She is not the fragile thing that they think she is.
He knows the way her eyes go cold and hard, when she plunges her kunai through the heart of her enemy. Even though he knows each time she hurls a knife into the darkness, she prays it's not him.
He knows that her skin is not as flawless as everyone thinks it is. She is bruised – both in pride and in flesh. He sees the red cuts after battle. And, he alone, knows the place of each of her scars.
Just because she is not flawless, doesn't mean she is not beautiful.
