Living a Lie

Chapter Thirty - Sneaky Weasels and Big Ol' Bears

Naruto and all characters found therein (c) Masashi Kishimoto.

I've never been much of a girly-girl, if I'm going to be completely honest. I've always played rough, gotten dirty, and dressed in clothes designed for functionality, not fashion. If you were to ask Ino how badly I lack fashion sense, she'd be ranting for days about how much of a hopeless tomboy I am. I don't think I'd ever owned more than one kimono or yukata at a time, partially because my parents weren't exactly wealthy, and mostly because I'd never really enjoyed wearing them aside from festivals and weddings.

Enter Sasuke: beautiful, regal, and Mr. Desirable to just about every girl around my age in Konoha. I wanted to be girly for him. When I took notice of him, it was like my entire existence was suddenly anchored around him. Guys had never really been anything more than playmates up until Sasuke walked into my life, and it was like I'd completely missed the "ew, cooties" stage.

So, I tried to learn from Ino the intricate art of becoming a beautiful, desirable girl. But no matter how much filched makeup from her mother she caked onto my face, we couldn't get rid of my tomboyish personality.

I sighed as I stared into the bathroom mirror at the plain, familiar face staring back at me with my father's green eyes and my mother's pink hair. Pink may be a girly color, but it'd never done me any favors. It's awful trying to find clothes that don't clash with either your eyes or your hair (I eventually gave up trying so hard, but Ino would always lecture me if I dressed in something less-than-perfect).

I had a selection of inexpensive new makeup laid out on the counter in front of me, but I couldn't bring myself to choose something and put it on. What was the point of it all? Getting all pretty and girly is something that girls do to attract guys, right?

'What the hell am I doing, dolling myself up like this?' I thought, slowly getting more frustrated and confused by the minute.

I looked over at the yukata I had hanging on the shower curtain rod. Why dress up like I used to do for Sasuke?

When I was little, I'd gone to the Tanabata festival with my parents and enjoyed every minute of it. From the games to the lanterns to the food and finally to the fireworks and stargazing, it was the most exciting and magical night I experienced each year. When Team 7 was formed, the four of us would go together and enjoy the festivities until late into the evening. I knew I was only going with my teammates and not my parents because of Sasuke, mostly because I was delusional enough to think that, on such a magical night, perhaps some beautiful romance straight out of a fairy tale would come into being. The festival itself, after all, is to celebrate the rejoining of two star-crossed lovers.

And then Sasuke wasn't around to go to the festival. I still went with Naruto and Kakashi-sensei a couple times, but mostly I either went alone or with my parents. I would write on my Tanzaku every year the same thing: "To see him again." I sometimes fancied myself the mythical Orihime and Sasuke would be my very own Hikoboshi. I prayed every year the night before the festival that the following night would be the night we meet again.

A quick knock on the bathroom door shook me from my introspective musings, and I recognized the quiet presence of Itachi's chakra. I almost snorted at the slight irony he presented: if it wasn't one Uchiha on my mind, it was always the other. Well, not always… but most of the time.

Shaking my head to clear my mind, I looked over my shoulder and called, "What's up?"

"I left my hair-tie in one of the drawers," he answered. "Are you decent?"

Smoothing my hands down my dressing gown, I cleared my throat, still somewhat agitated by my thoughts from before and missing the feeling of joy I used to get from preparing to go to the festival. "Yeah, sure," I answered, opening a drawer and pawing through it to find a hair-tie for Itachi as he opened the door.