Haruno Kizashi—resident pink haired freak—was insane. This is what Mebuki had decided at the age of ten. They were the same age, went to the academy, and she had avoided him like a plague, until she got on his radar. It ended up in an altercation.
Mebuki stared down at the boy beneath her, pastel hair splayed all over the concrete, and eyes as dark as a forest. She had just toppled him over with a punch. He looked like he'd been told he'd been offered the position to be Hokage. She was terrified.
“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”
She glared at him.
“What the hell did you just say—”
“Strong, beautiful,” he began. “You’re like a flower.”
She flew off him in disgust.
“Your eyes are greener than the spring grass,” he continued, unfazed.
They called her Mebuki the lizard—who’s eyes were scary. If she looked your way, you’d turn to stone. Mebuki was initially hurt, and she had decided that she wasn’t going to let them get to her. She grew to like it. People didn’t like her. Mebuki didn’t like them. That was all fine and dandy.
But this boy? Was he making fun of her?
She turned away hotly.
“Get out of my sight, pink-haired freak!” she yelled after him.
He grinned, and she distinctly heard the Yamanaka say to him, “You’re going to get killed one of these days, Kizashi.”
He had confidence that was bright. She hated it.
When the kids used to bully him for his pink hair, he’d simply look at them and say, “What? Boys can’t have pink hair?”
He looked her way, catching her staring, and in front of the entire classroom—including all her friends—he grinned at her. The sun catching his eyes, making him look like some ethereal freak. It was doing strange things to her insides.
“We’re going to have a child with a flower name. Just you wait.”
She picked up the chalk duster, and she threw it in his direction. He ducked with a laugh.
“OVER MY DEAD BODY.”
“Your eyes, my hair. She’ll be beautiful.”
“There’s no way a child of ours would be even more FLOWERY than you!”
He widened his eyes, and then he smiled at her widely. “So you also think we’re going to have a kid together?”
Her ears heated up, and she stomped out the room, ears heating up, while her friends called out to her with concern. She slammed the door, and she was sure they had all flinched. He probably didn't. He was laughing.
“One of these days,” she heard Yamanaka say.
When Sakura was born, she just loathed to admit that he was right, because Haruno Sakura was a beautiful baby. Her eyes, his hair, and twenty-five year old Kizashi was smitten. She watched him coo at her in his arms.
“I’d give her everything.”
“You’re so cheesy,” Inoichi told him.
"What? You're one to talk," Kizashi told him. “She’s my little blossom.”
He handed her a little finger, and then Sakura squirmed in his arms. She watched as he let her down, and she toddled over to Ino plodding herself right in front of her, as they played with blocks and babbled at each other.
“I honestly thought you would kill him,” Inoichi told her.
“She fell for me,” Kizashi said. “I told you she would.”
Mebuki huffed and watched the pair of girls.
“Shut up, darling.”