Summary: She likes to use an old typewriter and sip coffee at three am, thinking of this sort of love and how artistic it is; and how she could have had it if only she hadn't loved Sasuke.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: Because Sasuke does speak, although he should not be allowed because he talks absolute rubbish. Because he might be a bumface but some things just work. Because Sasuke and Ino together are awesome as well as utterly hot, and a side helping of Sakura (however depressing) is still good. Because Ino and Sakura love each other really. Brethren before wenches, although not strictly. Also, a sort of ipod shuffle challenge but not really; but I did not stick to the times or reorder this to make sense because I made them all connected and I prefer things less organised. I also added an extra one song in by accident, so it is as it is.

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. A story not in order. That sort of not quite love that means everything and nothing at the same time.

Elegy In Pink

let's hear it for america's suitehearts.

"She's timeless."

Sasuke never really laughs, but if he ever has; Sakura would guess this is what it sounds like. This awkward and stumbling clicking noise through his teeth. She says this just as Ino raises her fists and screams something about love not meaning anything at all because she's never felt it, not once. Not ever. God forbid her little life. Sasuke indulges her innocence with a small snort and Sakura is too drunk to even bother. But Sasuke is sort of almost laughing, and that means everything is ok.

"Yeah, all sadness is."

Sasuke whispers, probably thinking her far too inebriated to even notice or remember it in the morning – but she sees that look just for a second – and she knows she'll never forget. It's gone before he thinks she's seen it but she can still remember every thin line of worry in his forehead, the shadows reflecting on his cheekbones as he chewed the insides of his mouth, the way he looks so perfectly not hers.

"Like you?"

Sasuke smiles, thin lipped as he always has like he thinks nobody is watching and whispers something back she can't quite hear but sounds like it should just be a confirmation of him not loving her.

"Something like that."

He finally answers, edging his way through the crowd towards Ino – all the world knows her name and what did she really expect – and pulling away the people getting too close for his liking. Close enough to hurt.

This isn't soft and candlelit and romantic, no; this is her heart breaking.

you'll be the showgirl of the home team.

"I saw your photograph."

Sasuke tells her. Sakura, good receptionist as she is, looks at the girl with wide blue eyes and long fawn legs, her blond hair sleek and combed into the perfect ponytail. She can see what Sasuke sees in her, just maybe. She looks so harmless, a deer caught in the headlights – ready to be exploited just like every other star – and oh, my, it was almost tragic the way she smiled such a great wide smile. All the better to eat you with. This girl loved the idea of fame. She was the typical head cheerleader, the school captain, the girl who was just right for this agency.

"Which agency hasn't?"

She says, the cocky socialite brat. Sakura inwardly sneers. Sasuke doesn't even seem to notice, takes it in his stride as always. She may be the epitome of the American dream, painted in red and white and blue, stood up like a patriot with all her impossible prettiness – but not beauty because she's not like Sasuke, and everything she has is disgustingly horribly sickeningly fake - and her plans. This girl wasn't stupid. Rich little bitches never were. Especially the good looking ones.

"We're the best, Yamanaka."

The girl doesn't even seem to take this into account. Sakura can guess even if things didn't go as he wanted, Daddy would buy her a car that she couldn't afford if she worked overtime for her entire life even with the generous pay she was getting from him. Nice shiny gold plated credit card. Bitch.

"So? What can this place offer me but more publicity?"

Sasuke breathes in sharply. Sakura knows he hates girls like her. The kind that have a family name, just like him, in the headlights and exploit it for all it's worth. Kids were into gimmicks though, and this girl already had several cosmetics lines that had provided her with a generous paycheck to prove it. Everyone knows who the Yamanaka family are, right down to their diamond-encrusted flip flops.

"Fairy dust."

Sasuke answers sarcastically, clearly thinking he's lost already to the idiot and there's no point in trying. But at this she grins and lets out a huge laugh, one that shakes Sakura to the very bone. It's so loud and cheerful, everything she isn't. This is the photograph he saw, the reason he wanted this girl; because when she looks so carefree, this is when she's beautiful. This is the moment she begins to hate Naruto for saying if he put his mind to it; Sasuke could have this girl signed up to them without even trying. Not because it doesn't do them a huge favour. Because he's right, and she doesn't want a girl like this near what she wants to be hers.

"When do I start?"

The world falls in love with Ino; but this, Sakura thinks, is when Sasuke loves her too.

you speak of love but i've never heard of her.

One lunch break, Sakura picks up the turned down photograph on his desk.

In between the worn down sentiment of dust, she drags her finger. She's always thought Sasuke didn't have a photograph of Ino. She's been wrong before, and everyone makes mistakes but this time it stings.

There in full colour is a fifteen year old Sasuke, sitting with a fifteen year old Ino; him looking as enigmatic as ever in most aspects but a small smile on his lips. Not his trademark smirk, a grin. It's something she's never seen. Then there is Ino sitting next to him, still looking drop dead gorgeous at such a young age. Back then she still had wide blue eyes and a brilliant smile, the perfect figure for a model, everything. What Naruto has told her looking at this picture makes her feel sick.

She wonders how long it had been taken before that incident. There was a squiggle in the bottom from the 'number one photographer Naruto Uzumaki' but no date. Not like she knew when it happened, anyway. Ino had a light summer blush across her cheeks that day, and Sasuke still looked at her just like he always did. The way that meant something without words ever being said. Ino was loved. She still was.

She turns the photo down again, and although Sasuke says nothing; she's sure he knows.

unforgettable, that's what you are.

"She didn't kill herself."

Ino's lips are shaking and he wants to believe she is better than a goodbye. She's not like everyone else; she doesn't try to mince words and pacify herself with the make-believe. In her blue world, she remembers the other woman as she cropped her hair and the way she seemed quite plain until she smiled so brightly it hurt and how she walked with a bounce in every step. And how she always wanted to be like her. She remembers that the most.

"Yeah."

Sasuke mutters blankly, lighting another cigarette. What Ino doesn't need to say is that she didn't need to; that both of them had pretty much done it for her and he'd just sealed the deal with a kiss. He can remember sitting among the loose tiles at the age of five, just in this place right here, and thinking things were just this simple. He remembers holding hands with Ino here. He remembers Ino having the long legs of a runaway, and the flimsy broken feet of a princess; and knowing she couldn't escape. He now thinks things aren't supposed to end like this, but they're going to. The Romeo-and-Juliet that Sakura always wanted, but she didn't get the starring role because it wasn't her that he fell in love with.

He throws the crumpled piece of paper off the roof.

it's only when i hit the ground.

"She doesn't like poems or love letters, or even love."

Sakura tells him. No, Ino is not into that kind of 1950s black and white movie perfection. Not like she is. Sakura likes to sit and write every textbook Romeo-and-Juliet romance she can think of, every cliché and flaw there is and somehow she likes to think the romance is perfect. The kind she wants to pretend she remembers like it really happened. She likes to use an old typewriter and sip coffee at three am, thinking of this sort of love and how artistic it is; and how she could have had it if only she hadn't loved Sasuke.

"I know."

Sasuke answers, almost too quietly for her liking before his eyes flicker off Ino and meet hers. She feels a lump in her throat, the kind you can't swallow because your eyes are prickling and you want to not cry but you really just can't stop yourself. Maybe she likes to write romance because her life has never been anything but a tragedy. Or maybe it's just because of him.

"So why?"

She whispers, trying to ignore the prickling sensation feeling her skin and the mounting feeling of sickness as his eyes flick back to the other girl. Sakura can bet she doesn't even notice. She's so busy on stage absorbed in making everyone else love her that she doesn't even notice what's been in front of her all along.

"I'm not sure. Why do you love me?"

He answers. The pencil in her hand misses the marking board and hits the floor instead. In a flicker of a golden ponytail Ino spins around, grinning at them and winking cheekily because the Hyuga Neji is losing his temper with her. This is when Sakura's heart sinks. He knows, and perhaps, he's always known. He just doesn't want her.

She runs. He doesn't stop her, but he doesn't know she's aiming for the roof.

we were sitting on the strawberry swing.

"One day, I'll be famous. I'll fly out in style."

Uchiha Sasuke does not like this blonde girl the moment she tells him this at five, soaring on the swing with her arms out wide like she could be something more than just a person. This girl is so typical, the kind that takes every day as perfect. The kind that wants to be a princess and have a prince and just have everything fit into place. His brother told him once that things weren't like that, and his brother was always right. Especially when he proved his point by taking everything away that Sasuke had ever cherished with the barrel of a gun. But at fifteen, he thinks, this is when he understands.

"Sasuke, Mother died when I was five."

He's never seen her cry. She's shivering, and her makeup is messy and horrid, and she's not wearing purple. She's wearing black. Darker than a thousand crows, and it just emphasises how thin she's become. Yeah, he's never seen her cry; God, he's never seen her like this. Her long legs are dangling off the roof and her feet are uncovered and cut, her shoes slung somewhere far away. He wants to try and joke but he's not funny or humorous or anything. Instead, his fingers clamber over the broken tiles and tie around hers.

"I know it's much worse for you, living with Madara, but oh God, oh fuck -"

She's never sworn in front of him before, and she probably feels him flinch but he can't bring himself to point this out. Not now.

"- I just can't do this anymore."

She says. Never, once in his life, has he ever felt scared like this. This girl has always been annoying and obnoxious, the aggravating sort of beautiful you want to touch but you can't because she'll scream. He wasn't scared when he was put in her elite academy and she shoved him into the swimming pool not knowing he couldn't actually swim, when Naruto stage dived and broke both his legs, not even when Kakashi had proved himself to be an even more useless teacher than he had already shown and made him read porn out in assembly without him realising until halfway through.

"Don't leave me."

She doesn't answer. When she doesn't come into school the next day, and he's ushered out of the room by her new replacement bodyguard for the incompetent one; but it's not then he knows something is wrong. He knew far beforehand. When Inoichi tells Sasuke she jumped off the broken tiled company roof, he can't bring himself to react. He knew it was coming. He's not even sorry he didn't tell anyone. What makes him sorry is that Inoichi says – she doesn't know you anymore you pathetic excuse for a friend and – she doesn't remember. He doesn't cry. But he knows for a fact he hit the floor.

He's always believed he feels alone. But now he really does feel it.

but he's the only one for me.

"Please don't take him."

Sakura cries out. Ino's back is turned to her, washing a glass, and she only pauses for a fraction of a second as though she doesn't want to consider it.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sakura feels her whole body quiver with anger and nausea. If she wanted to play pretend, be rough and heartless, then she'd receive the same treatment. She'd been invited to her apartment, so Ino clearly bore her no animosity, but this was how she supposed it would have to be.

"Uchiha Sasuke."

The glass in Ino's hand drops into the sink and shatters. The normally relatively polite if loud girl swears, and Sakura sees a flash of crimson. That wouldn't help those modelling contracts, but she supposed Ino's hands weren't something photographers focused on really and whatever blemishes she had – although Sakura had yet to notice any – would just be airbrushed out anyway. One flaw still wouldn't be an obstacle anyway, not with Sasuke. He's never seen things in terms of beauty, just effectiveness. He'd been like that since she'd met him at university. Naruto had said it started at fifteen.

"He hates girls like me."

Ino tells her. Sakura wants to agree that he usually does. But not her, never her. She'll never understand why; to her Ino is just another socialite. One who has a personality, sure, one she knows is actually smarter than the surface and is just brilliant at anything she dabbles in which effectively silenced critics; but she, Sakura privately thinks, is still just a bored rich girl. A punk rock princess, her old rocker daddy now owning a company with his old bandmates. Anything Ino had was just a product of that, not her talent. Sakura has always used this to reason why Sasuke shouldn't like her at all. That she's just imagining the way he looks at her is tender.

"But you're so normal."

Sakura blurts suddenly as it hits her. Ino is just a girl. A pretty, naïve girl; never in the papers for one night stands, although for partying and maybe a few drugs scandals which she actually had no connection to, but she's real. Ino is so very real it hurts.

"Celebrity kids can never be normal."

For once, Sakura actually feels less pity for herself, and more for Ino. She's always had everything she wanted, Daddy's apple of his eye; but she's never had basic human things like love in some sense. Everything was bought in her world; right down to the rawest of human emotions that Sakura liked to think was love. She begins to cry.

"Then why does he want you, and not me?"

Ino's embrace tells her she's sorry, but unspoken words never meant so little.

i took my lucky break and i broke it in two.

She kissed Sasuke once, Sakura remembers.

They were barely eighteen; in one of the top universities in the country – him through privilege and her through new fashioned hard work and this was just when the gulf between them was least noticeable – and it was a mistake that she never forgot. Even then, she'd known he was the boy with the songwriter eyes, the pianist smile, the poet hands. Everything she'd ever wanted – and it was the only time he'd ever got drunk in front of her – and everything that she wanted to believe would match up with her, a rag doll compared to his porcelain one. It'd been awkward afterwards. But looking down, she knows this time, it's not like that. Because Ino's not her, and some people just fit together like that.

"What the fuck Sasuke?"

Ino screams, and good Lord how Ino screams. Sakura can feel the ringing in her head; people could probably hear this for miles around. Sasuke had kissed her. Oh, fuck, Sasuke had kissed her. Not Sakura. Ino. Always Ino.

"I love you, idiot."

She hears Sasuke almost match her loudness, and Sakura wants to pretend that this isn't a confession; this is just the way that friends speak. That this is just the way Sasuke and Naruto act, although Naruto has been known to be over the top. But people are staring out the windows of the company building, because it's the boss and their most famous star and it's a scandal everyone wanted but her. She swallows, her pulse beginning to stop racing. And then her world is shattered as Sasuke kisses her again.

"I guess I love -"

This is when Sakura jumps off the roof.

i'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake.

"Sakura, Ino to Sasuke is like breathing to us."

Naruto tells her. He must know it won't make her feel better, but at least he's being truthful. He knows how Sakura is so bloody clever it makes the best scientists and mathmaticians look stupid. She could have been a pioneering doctor, finding the cure for whatever she pleased. He can't begrudge Sasuke for holding her back, because she puts the collar on herself. But he can hold resentment to them both for it.

"Why? I know she's a model, she's famous, but he's never liked girls like her."

She mutters. In fact, Sasuke's never seemed to like anyone. He keeps a few photos on his desk that she's seen in the last few years, on of them downturned that he told her once was him and a childhood friend he lost once; each of the rest of them pictures of the three of them at university, or him with people he'd made famous like the chef Akimichi and his childhood friend Nara who usually presented TV documentaries. Sakura found it strange he never had one of Ino, she was the global phenomenon, but she never wanted to ask. She preferred it without one of her.

"Don't tell him I told you, but they knew each other before. Friends from that academy he mentions sometimes, you know?"

Sakura stared. A girl who had known him before, but she acted like she'd never known him at all. Naruto continued.

"She jumped off her Dad's company building in the last year. Sasuke was her closest friend, and he probably loved her more than anything at that time. He could have forgiven himself, if she hadn't whacked her head and forgotten he ever existed. Then she transferred, became the one that got away."

She swallowed. That was why. He was always watching her, and Sakura had thought she was just a socialite. She still did think that. But this told her – Sasuke has always loved Ino and – she could never have him. Sakura finished what Naruto didn't need to say.

"She was his first and only love. She always will be."

i said i can make you feel it.

Ino runs.

Sasuke is shouting after her, but she's not sure whether she cares or not – because this isn't about them, it's about the closest thing she's ever had to a friend and not a lover – and because she's sick of the boys that are boyfriends only enough to not really care for her at all, the fame that is fame only enough to make her sick, and the lovers – like Sasuke – that forgot to love.

"Ino, are you insane?"

Sasuke yells from the roof they had been sitting on, and she can just imagine the way his pretty obsidian eyes are glaring down at her. This time she still has the long legs of a runaway, but her feet aren't broken like a princess, and she knows just what to do with her heart aside from giving it to him. Things aren't supposed to end like this. She picks up the crumpled sheet of paper.

"Make it pink."

Sakura's family had expected Sasuke to write something to their daughter as she lingered in the suffocating white hospital bed, but this was miserable. Ino knew Sakura wasn't happy because of them, but she supposed that once upon a time she might have been; and things would go – her name is Haruno Sakura she has the most drop dead gorgeous smile and it makes people shout to turn the sun out because it keeps them awake with the brightness and she likes the colour red because it reminds her of that glint in Sasuke's eyes and she loves him best – just like magic.

"Why?"

Sasuke asks, long black hair cascading down to frame his face as she looks up the two stories and smiles back, uncrinkling the piece of paper to look at the words before shouting up at the stupid, ignorant man. He might have known she loved him, but just because he didn't feel anything in return didn't give him the right to be so cold.

"Because she deserves more than this. Because she needs to be loved. Because Naruto and Lee are sick of waiting around. Because Kiba always wanted to date her. Because, dammit Sasuke, she deserves to be happy!"

Because Sakura made her feel cared for. Not that she'd say that.

we're after the same rainbows.

"I'm not sad, Uchiha, and I never will be."

Ino has always believed she lives for the moment. But Sasuke just messes things up, he makes them wrong and it shouldn't be her that he fell in love with. Ino might love him too, but she knows that it should have been Sakura.

"You were, once. When you weren't famous."

He says. She looks at her feet, and curls her fingers around his weakly from behind. The crowds always wanted her autograph, but all he wanted was a few words and it meant more to her than anything that he didn't just want her because she was famous. That he'd wanted her before; although he never said it just the way she wanted back then.

"I know that I jumped, Sasuke."

She says, less formally. She feels his hand jolt in hers.

"Then why are you here?"

She smiles weakly; pressing her head into his back just before she has to endure the look Sakura is giving her a single moment longer.

"Because the only time I was happy was when I loved you."

I want to write a happy ending. I just cannot. Pfft. But I suppose this is, sort of. What happens in the end with Sakura is left to your imagination. I personally have been watching the Watchmen too much and gaining inspiration from it, I think. Also, yes, I do like my covers.

Tracks:

America's Suitehearts – Fall Out Boy

Dear Maria, Count Me In – All Time Low

Tristan – Patrick Wolf

Unforgettable – Nat King Cole

Falling – Florence + The Machine

Strawberry Swing – Coldplay

Jolene – The White Stripes

Worried Shoes – Karen O + The Kids

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner – Fall Out Boy

I Can Make You Feel It – Home Video

Moon River – Audrey Hepburn

Reviews are loved and appreciated, especially if they contain constructive criticism.