Disclaimer: I'm afraid I don't own Naruto.
A/N: Spoilers! M'kay, I warned you.
painting
-
She is not pretty, exactly. Sure, Shikamaru tells him of how boys throw themselves at her feet, how she takes their hearts and throws them away. Choji speaks of his teammate with a shake of the head and a pitied look at the former Roots agent. The chubby boy tells him how boys die at just a smile, how with one look they are finished, they cannot see anything but her. This confuses him. She is not pretty. She is normal, average; she is any girl down the street with extensive blonde hair and long legs. Boring, almost.
But there is a part of her that seems to call to Sai. She is simple, blank, like a canvas that has not yet begun to be worked upon. And he begins to understand. With her every step, Ino is a painting. Her hair flows like the brush upon the paper, her curves seem to be made for pictures.
And everytime he sees the blonde, his hands seem to itch, they long to take up the brush and print her image upon a sheet of empty white. And with every black-and-white wish, Shikamaru and Choji shake their heads, and Naruto grins, and Sakura seems to want the laugh. Why? He does not understand them. He asks them, once, and Shikamaru and Choji shake their heads, and Naruto grins, and Sakura does laugh. He still does not understand them.
It takes one moment: Sakura is nervous, fretting, over Asuma's funeral, and her god friend, and she asks Sai to check on her best friend while she hunts down something black to wear, oh, and grab some flowers while he's at the shop, for the casket. And, because he has his black lined up, and because Sakura is a good friend and he wants to pay her back for everything she's done, he goes to the Yamanaka Flower Shop.
She is there. She already dons her black, silently stroking a beautiful white flower that he has never seen before; her blue eyes sparkle with tears, her cheeks drip with a matching pair of rivers upon each pale cheek. He is awkward, silly in his way, his social abilities lacking, but he manages to explain his reason for visiting the shop. She gives a sad, forced smile, and fetches him a pair of bouquets of the white flowers, one for Sakura, one for himself.
From across the register, she swipes tears from her eyes, chokes out the cost, and takes the mix of bills and coins-exact change, it was always exact change from Sai- from the boy, handing him the flowers. And for once, her eyes red and puffy, her face wet and cheeks tearstained, her sensei's blood not yet washed out from beneath her fingernails, Sai, on his way out the door, turns and faces the sad young woman, and asks-in his awkward, gauche way- if he could, by any chance, ask her to model for a painting. And Ino looks at him through teary blue eyes, and a true smile comes to her face as she agrees to his proposition.
It takes three months, but he finishes the painting. She leans over his shoulder, gazing at herself on the parchment, and turns her blue eyes upon him, and asks in wonder, "Am I really that pretty?" Her narcissism and conceit disappear from her face. Sai looked over at Ino, leaning over his shoulder, long blonde ponytail dangling limply, elongated legs covered in a long white dress that she wore in the art, a bit of black paint on her arm from leaning over his supplies, and he smiles.
"Yes," He answers, "You are."
-
A/N: Ohdeargod. Sai is so hard to write. x.X Please, constructive criticism is welcome.
