Hmmm… I think I like the ending
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedication: To my sexy-ass red nail-polish.
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Hana loves nail polish. It is the one thing she has always indulged over; her vanity is lined with bottles and bottles of nail-polish, in every colour of every rainbow.
There is one that is the deep blue of the sky at midnight, and one as crimson-red as blood. There is one the colour of clouds lit by a sunrise. There is lemon yellow, and neon green, and bright orange, and a pink-purple that she secretly adores. There is one that is the slate-grey that makes Hana think of tears, and a deep purple that reminds her of dusk. There is a teal the colour of the ocean, and there is bronze, shiny and fresh. There is leaf green, bright blue, pale orange, pastel pink, bright white. There is sparkly pearl, and ink-black, and a very special bottle that glows in the dark.
They are her secrets.
Or, rather, they keep her secrets. And her memories, too, a lot of the time.
Because Hana rarely, almost never, wears a nail-colour twice.
She rarely wears colours twice because she thinks that if she does, she may ruin the memory attached to that particular colour.
For example, the midnight blue bottle was the one that Anko gave her for her twelfth birthday. She wore it only twice; once, right after she got it, and the second time, the day of her father's death.
It was then that Hana realized that she could never wear a single nail-colour more then once. Her birthday had been a wonderful day; a wonderful memory that she never wanted to forget. Her father's death, on the other hand… that was something she was willing to forget.
Hana's nail-polish was the keeper of memories she didn't want to forget. And sometimes they were the keepers of memories she did want to forget, and those bottles were the ones she tucked away into little boxes, and hid under her bed.
She almost finds it ironic. It is mental repression in its most tangle form.
Her eyes trace her vanity, and the memories hit her, one by one.
The crimson-red, Hana thinks, was from a summer day spent by the pool with Akane and Kurenai and Anko. The four girls had been attacking each other in the water, and had simply been having a good time.
Hana had painted her nails that morning; they were as red as the flower that Itachi had tucked in her hair, behind her ear, that day at the pool. It is a special colour, with a good memory attached to it.
Hana smiles at it, and her eyes flick to the next colour. The one the colour of clouds lit by a sunrise. A light pink-yellow-white that, as a colour, she really does love. As a nail-polish? Not so much.
Her stomach knots, and she thinks she is masochistic to keep that one out. She was wearing that colour the last day she saw Itachi before he left. She tries not to think about that one too much.
The memories come faster now, and she's experience them for a second time.
Lemon yellow is a winter day, and she's laughing so hard she can't move. She throws a snowball, and it hits Itachi in the face. He is dumfounded. He never thought he'd actually end up with snow in his face.
Neon green brings a scent of rain, getting kisses at a bus stop, and loose hair.
Bright orange is Kiba and Naruto, grinning as they hold it up and out, for her to take. She turns eighteen today, and they got her a present. She almost blushes.
Pink-purple; she's sitting on a swing in early spring. Itachi is there, Kiba and Sasuke are squabbling, and all she can think is that he would be an amazing father.
Slate-grey, and she's lost amid grief as one of the puppies she'd been nursing dies. She couldn't save the poor little runt, and her heart clenches when she thinks of his big, pleading brown eyes. She paints her nails afterwards in mourning.
Deep purple is a touch of passion, and she's dancing in piles of fallen leaves in autumn. The sun is setting, and there is a scarf wrapped around her neck that cuts the winter's-coming breeze. For some reason, even through it's so cold, she's warm. It couldn't be Itachi's smile, could it?
Teal -the colour of the ocean- brings her mother's pained smile after Kiba's first near-death experience. He is only twelve, and Hana does not know how to deal with it.
Shiny bronze; she's fifteen, and she's just killed for the first time. She's so shocked, she can barely move. Kurenai grabs her hand, and pulls her away as fast as she can, screaming Run, run, run, Hana, run!
Leaf green, and she's blinking into bright sunlight after just coming out of the dark house. She's holding Kiba's seven-year-old hand. The white, childish dress she's wearing itches. Stupid wedding, she thinks ungratefully.
Bright blue is an image of the sky, a single white bird flying overhead, and she is laughing at something Itachi said.
Pale orange, and she's doing chores. Washing clothes is boring, but at least she gets to be out in the sun, singing happily with her mother, as they dry.
Pastel pink; she's at the cherry blossom festival. She's wearing a pretty kimono, white base-pink flowers-gold detail, but the obi is too tight. How annoying.
Bright white was layered under black tips, and she knows Itachi will be annoyed, because he says black doesn't suit her.
Sparkly pearl; she's at Anko's wedding preparations, trying to calm the other girl down while she's hyperventilating in a gorgeous, simple wedding dress. Hana giggles as she thinks that Kakashi may very well keel over from Anko looking like this, and she is happy for her friends.
Ink-black, and Hana thinks Itachi's eyes.
The sparkly glow-in-the-dark clear-coat is her favourite, though. She is wearing it the day Uchiha Sasuke comes back into the village, dragging his older brother behind him. Little Sakura punches Little Sasuke so hard, he nearly falls over backwards. Hana takes care of Itachi, and she can still remember the look on his face when she slams her fist into his gut, and screeches That's for not telling me, you bastard!
Hana shakes herself, and pulls herself from the memories. They threaten to overwhelm her, but she pushes them away. She is older now, a different person.
But even so, nail polish is one thing she cannot live without. It can bring so many memories that she is not sure how she would remember anything without it.
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The next day, she drags Itachi out to the market with her, and buys twelve new bottles. They shine brightly at her, and she wonders for a minute -just a minute- what each of these bottles will bring.
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fin.
