Here is the reedited version of FM! Sorry if I kept all of you waiting! It took a really long time...

I changed alot of things, I know, but I hope you'll like my new ideas. Some of these ideas were going to be used in the sequel, but I changed my mind and went ahead with it.

Hope you enjoy!

Revised: On September 11, 2009

--flawless masks--

beauty is only skin deep.

1: That Summer

Anything and EVERYTHING can happen.

Three words to describe Konoha? Rich-infested. Glamorous. Perfect.

A Beverly-Hills-like "town" located between Tokyo and Kyoto, in which its inhabitants are genetically flawless or unbelievably wealthy enough to become gorgeous.

Welcome to Konoha...where every store is a designer boutique...in which its well-bred inhabitants are escorted into their lush, beautifully landscaped mansions or ultra deluxe two-floor, million-dollar condos by their white-gloved doormen...where little kids don't believe in Santa Claus because they already have everything they want...

Let's see how long you can stay without getting ruined--by the prickly society or by the press tipping off your most darkest secrets to the ever-so-gossiping Konoha Gazette.

Just a note of reminder: If planning to attend Konoha Leaf Day for the Arts, don't ever mess with the ruling cliques.

In other words...

Tangle with the alpha males and females of the social scene at Konoha Leaf Day for the Arts, and just save them the trouble from personally paying you an unpleasant visit--by moving to Antarctica, effective immediately.

Here are ten things you should know about the alphas. But keep them to youself, and be cautious about who you will confide them to if you make the unwise decision of not to keeping your mouth shut.

1. Sasuke Uchiha--son to one of the wealthiest businessmen in the world--is the gorgeous leader of the male alpha clique. Sakura Haruno, sole heiress to the multi-billion Haruno empire, is the beautiful leader of the female alphas.

2. Those two leaders are rivals. Bitter, competitive rivals.

3. Actually, half of them are rivals. But not telling who: you'll have to figure that out all by yourself, honey.

4. They may have teamed up for now...but one of them might cut the same-team-BFF-act and conspire.

5. For all we know, they might be plotting against each other right now.

6. They probably are.

7. All of them have a good share of secrets they're hiding from the rest of the world. They may seem perfect and utterly enivable...

8. Most of the secrets are so scandalous, it'll make your hair curl.

9. One person knew all (or at least most) of their secrets. She was the former leader of Kunoichi.

10. That person died. At the hands of her own BFF.

Keep this to youself, now: the little murderess can't have ANYONE knowing.

Now, who am I exactly? I'm simply an avenger. I'm getting revenge for all the countless crimes that these little flawless-masked girls did--for a certain someone that they had wronged unforgivably. They just have to learn from me that rich spoiled girls can't get away with everything--the hard way.

Not to mention, the boys aren't so innocent either...

But don't get too comfortable with me. You're on my good page--for now. I may be doing you a favor by sneaking in these little helpful tip-offs, but you'll never know if I'll start turning on you.

While you're here, be good.

I guess I'll have to start at the beginning. Not the very beginning, of course, but a filler on what really happened.

So sit tight, and keep your panties on till the very end.

Four years ago, when the clique originally had five people, instead of four...

“Guess who?” Azami grabbed the tube of dark red lipstick and smeared it over her lips. The girls giggled when their friend did a hilarious imitation of Ami Watanabe, a wannabe in their grade with a bitchy attitude, who was always covering her lips every second of her life with lipstick. Azami strutted across the living room floor, walking the “Ami”. Her friends laughed harder. Sakura pursed her pink lips in thought, and then tossed a container filled with electric green eyeshadow. Azami caught it.

“Put this on.” Sakura said. Azami smirked with her lipstick covered mouth.

“You’re right, I almost forgot.” She quickly brushed it on. The other three groaned; Ami had the exact same shade on her eyelids at the Winter Dance at school a few weeks ago. At the dance, the girls laughed non-stop about how hideously the green clashed with Ami’s chocolate brown dress and the weird wreath around her purple hair (before she dyed it a dark chestnut in eight grade). Ami had looked like a wooden door because her skinny curveless body, with an ugly wreath as decoration.

“That’s better,” Ino chortled as she grabbed a handful of popcorn. She shoved it in her mouth. “Now that’s an exact replica of Ami.” The girls laughed again.

“Look,” Hinata pointed to the window with its silk curtains spread wide open, revealing outside. “It’s snowing really hard.” She sat on the floor cross-legged, clad in a cream-coloured cashmere sweater and a dark brown curdoroy skirt over soft lambswool leg warmers dyed a hazelnut hue. The posture of her body was straight and erect--a habit for somebody like Hinata who had taken ballet all her life.

“Let’s go skating.” Azami suggested. “The lake is right outside.” Azami’s beach house was right next to a small lake called Lake Ikeda, which was famous for supposedly being the home of the Japanese Loch Ness Monster. Hinata, Ino, and Tenten reluctantly agreed, but Sakura stayed put.

“Ugh, no, it’s like, minus twelve out there.” Sakura replied, wrinkling her nose.

“Come on, Sakura.” Azami pleaded. Her beautiful violet eyes held the puppy look. Sakura frowned; no one could stand up to Azami’s puppy eyes. She sighed.

“Fine,” she got up and stomped over to her skates and her jacket. Azami beamed in triumph.

After all five of them got ready, they headed outside. Everyone except Azami eyed the lake with cautious eyes.

“Are you sure the lake is safe?” Tenten asked hesitantly. Azami looked at her reproachfully.

“Duh, do you think I want to kill myself and you guys?” She snorted. They exchanged worried glances; they heard stories of people getting hurt while lake-skating without confirmation that it was completely safe.

“Let’s go,” Azami tugged at her friends as they reluctantly laced up their skates. They walked onto the ice, the white moon reflected on the smooth, frozen ripples. Azami twirled around the lake gracefully and effortlessly; she was an exceptionally talented figure skater. She loped around with an easy grace, not caring whether if it was safe or not. Her four friends stood there, still hesitant. But as time flew by, they decided that it was safe enough to skate around for a while after seeing that Azami was unscathed.

Soon enough, all five girls were whizzing on the frozen lake easily. Sakura and Azami were at the very far end of the lake, having a competition on who could spin the longest.

“Sakura, watch!” Azami spun around on the heel of her skate gracefully. Her strawberry blonde hair whipped around in the cold wind. Sakura distantly heard a small crack! behind Azami’s body. Sakura tried to pass it on as a trick to her ears. But she was wrong. A few seconds later, the thin ice was slashed open with a louder noise, and Azami’s slender body fell through the hole as if it was played in slow motion.

Sakura’s jaded eyes widened in shock as she watched her friend fall into the icy water. She opened her mouth to scream, but no words came out.

Azami was more shocked than Sakura, her pretty face turning pale and her mouth opened into a scream. She flailed her arms wildly, trying to cling onto the edge of the hole. Sakura reached over to grab her friend’s hands. Her gloved hands snagged one hand. Azami held on to Sakura’s hand tight.

“Oh, my God!” Tenten’s shrill voice rang out as she and the other two girls rushed over, finally noticing the commotion. Sakura desperately tried to hold on to Azami’s hand.

Hinata let out a choked gasp and fell to the ground with a dull thud and Ino's mittened hand was on her mouth, her ice blue eyes wide with terror.

Tenten's first reaction was to hurry to call for help using the phone in the Ishiharas' cottage. They had all left their cellphones inside the cottage, charging from dead batteries (the consequences of hours spent on flirting with various boys and prank-calling Ami and Karin). After barking to Ino to go and help Sakura on saving Azami, she speed-skated across the lake, pulled off her skates, and ran in her woollen-socked feet, callous about the icyness of the snow that drenched her feet ucomfortably.

Ino was stunned into place while Hinata, who was in hysterics, finally fainted. By then, Ino finally snapped out of her shock and looked from Sakura to Hinata's immobile body, having trouble deciding what to do first. Should she pick Hinata's body up first or help Sakura...?

“Hold on!” Sakura screamed, and to her utmost horror, she saw that Azami’s once alabaster complexion now held a bluish hue.

Her full lips curved into an almost melancholy smile, and the long, thick eyelashes closed over her violet eyes. It seemed as if she were accepting death.

Azami bowed her head--as if she were saving Sakura from seeing her horribly blue-tinged face--until it sank lower in the cold water. Soon, only the top of her strawberry blonde hair was visible, floating on the tip of the surface.

Sakura struggled, the small, almost invisible muscles that were hidden in her arms appearing as she pulled. But Azami’s body and her fur jacket seemed heavier, soaked with the icy water. Azami’s other hand that gripped the edge of the wide crack fell into the water with a loud plop!

“No...!" Sakura wailed. “Just hold on!” She held on tighter. But Azami’s arm was already slipping...lower...and lower...

Her whole arm, which was the last thing Sakura ever saw of Azami, slipped completely into the dark water, leaving a few ripples behind. Only the reflection of the moon remained of the spot where Azami fell. The gleaming moon seemed to taunt Sakura.

All Sakura heard was the bloodcurdling shriek that came out of Ino as Azami let go of Sakura’s hand. An owl hooted in the distance, its voice sounding mocking and eerie to Sakura.

You couldn’t save her...It’s all your fault...

“No...she can’t be dead...” Sakura moaned, the wind blowing angrily on her tear-stained face. Ino was silently crying as well, staring blankly at the place where their friend breathed last, and her arms around Hinata's motionless body.

That was when Tenten chose the perfect time to run back outside.

She let out a sigh of relief when she saw her friends all huddled together, safe and sound. Azami wasn't dead.

“They said they will be sending-” She broke off when she saw Ino and Sakura's arms wrapped around Hinata's pale limp form. "Why is Hinata-?"

Tenten froze in her tracks as she realized she miscounted the number of her friends. There were three. Not four. Which meant-

She suddenly forgot how to exhale.

"You shouldn't have gone inside," Sakura rasped in unrecognizably harsh tones. "You should have helped. You should have stayed."

"Sak-" Tenten was about to say, but stopped, feeling horrible. It was her fault. She could have stayed and helped Sakura pull Azami out. She didn't need to call the police. Saving Azami was the most important thing. But now--

“-It’s too late.” Ino sobbed, a few blonde tendrils of hair stuck to her wet face.

The three girls huddled together, crying. Soon, police cars and an ambulance pulled over by Azami’s house and they rushed over to the lake. They pulled the hysterically crying girls away from the lake. The girls minus Hinata, who was still in her petrified state and immediately sent to the hospital, were sent to the police station, waiting for their parents to pick them up.

During their short stay, they were silent. Ino was crying into a wadded ball of tissue, Tenten was staring blankly at the wall, and Sakura had her face buried in her hands. After a few minutes, their hysterical parents had rushed over to the police station.

The next day, there was a funeral held for Ishihara Azami, the girl who had drowned, the girl who everyone once envied and loved--until she died, that is. The mournful crowd of black listened to every word the priest said about Azami. Azami's mother were not present. Word spread far and wide that she had gotten a stroke from the shock of reality and was in a coma.

Of course, no one knew what really happened. Especially about how Sakura could have saved her...

The week of Azami’s funeral was thrown into chaos. The Konoha Gazette was amongst one of the newspapers which held huge articles about Azami’s tragic death. None of them mentioned that her closest friends were with her the last time she breathed. Or that Sakura literally had Azami's life in the palm of her hand, but had killed it by letting go. Or that Ino was helplessly staring at Sakura struggling, too shocked to help. Or that Tenten made the foolish decision of running back inside to call the police, which by that time, Sakura had let go of Azami's hand and it was too late.

Those were the things that the newspapers never found out. Out of all the scandals and mysteries in Konoha, the truth of Azami’s death was kept unknown.

Back at school, an assembly about the safety of skating on lakes was held in Azami’s honor, which was followed by a benefit bake sale. The four girls participated overzealously, especially Sakura. After that incident, they became closer than ever. They vowed to never be separated again.

During the years after Azami’s death, the four girls wanted to erase it out of their lives. It was preposterous that they didn’t look wrecked on the outside as they did on the inside. The four girls managed to forget about it last year. But this year, there was someone that would remind them of the horrible incident they were part of. Someone who knew the truth...

That would be moi.

Now, four years into the future...

“Hey, watch out!” Ino yelled as she jumped into the pool. The girls dodged the wave of water, laughing. They were hanging out in Hinata’s rock-lined pool, shaped like two Hs, custom-made to form the initials of Hinata. The two Hs were connected with a round smaller pool, imitated to look like an exotic oasis. Long roman columns lined the swimming pool, three on each side. Two gorgeous waterfalls were set against the west side of the first H, and the east side of the second. Only God knew how much it cost to build a swimming pool in a glass domed room that took up only one-third of the space of the Hyuuga manor’s vast backyard.

It was one of their summer break activities: wearing their newest Ralph Lauren bikinis and oversized Chanel sunglasses, sipping iced mocha lattes, flipping through pages of various fashion magazines, and gossiping about the Bitch clique and the losers. Ino was currently giving her friends the dirt on a slutty girl named Aya (who was also Ami’s lackey and clone), who was said to be going on one-night stands with the whole football team.

“And she totally got paid for the one-night stands,” Ino sneered, an expression of dislike crossing over her face, the same expression she held when something deep-fried and 1000-caloried was held under her nose. “What a whore.”

“There’s a reason why “Aya is a slut” is written all over in the third stall walls,” Sakura said darkly, flicking a loose strand of hair out of her face.

“Yeah, that was me,” Tenten admitted, grinning deviously at her friends over the issue of ELLEgirl she was reading.

“Tenten, that was you?” Hinata asked incredulously as Ino slapped Tenten’s hand in a high-five.

Tenten shrugged and pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “She was a slut ever since she tried to flirt with our hot English teacher in eighth grade.”

“I don’t blame her for that,” Ino said coyly, smearing tanning oil all over her long legs. “Our teacher was hot.”

Sakura, who was nearest to her, smacked her on the arm, while the other girls giggled.

“Hey guys, should I get this?” Tenten showed all three a picture of a model wearing one of the top fashion outfits for fall: a buff-coloured Chloé Narcisse knee-length trench, gray leggings, and a pair of bronze ballet flats.

"I thought you hated "girly couture"," Ino said accusingly. "Who are you and what did you do to Miss Ratty Juicy Sweats Tomboy?"

Sakura leaned against the faux rocks where the artificial waterfall cascaded down. She sighed in contentment as the refreshingly cool fluid came into contact with her skin.

“Too bad summer break ends next week,” Hinata said in a disappointed voice. “It went by too fast.”

“I actually want to go back to school.” The girls were surprised that the answer came from Ino. Ino the school-hater, despite the straight-As she had earned all three terms. The same Ino-who-always-makes-fake-excuses-to-skip-classes misses school? Sakura and Tenten looked up at the domed glass ceiling, half-expecting it to fall spontaneously.

It didn’t.

“So I can tell the whole world about Aya’s interesting summer job,” Ino said slowly, as if she’d read their minds.

“I didn't have a summer job, I'm too rich," an annoyingly eerily familiar voice protested in a high-pitched voice.

They whipped their heads around, praying silently to God to make that someone who they thought it was to disappear.

They turned around to face the Shinobiand their one-week girlfriends--ehem-- sluts.

Sasuke was standing with Aya, apparently his new toy for the week. Aya was in skimpy swimwear that looked like the ones in porn magazines. She was smirking, as if every girl would give anything to be in her place, to stand next to the drool-worthy Sasuke Uchiha. Technically, it was almost the truth, except a few individuals who were immune to the Uchiha charm.

Shikamaru was standing in his usual slouchy-casual way. He yawned and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t pay any attention to his girlfriend, who was latched onto his arm like an octopus.

To Hinata’s great disgust, Naruto’s arm was almost covered in his lovesick girlfriend’s drool. Sakura recognized her as one of the cheerleaders and cronies of Ami’s little clique.

Neji was a different story. He was making out with his new girlfriend of the week, Kin Tsuchi. Their arms were wrapped around so tightly each other that they couldn’t tell whose was whose. It looked like they were eating each other’s faces.

“Ehem,” Sakura cleared her throat, making Kin and Neji to break off their heated make-out and irritably glare at her.

“What do you want?” Ino whipped the sunglasses off her face and flashed her eyes at the intruders. Her pretty blue eyes narrowed into slits.

“We want you to get out,” Sasuke deadpanned.

“Funny, the last time I checked, we were here first, and this is Hinata’s pool,” Sakura bit back frostily, almost as cold as Sasuke’s.

"Whatever," Sasuke shrugged. "Just get out." Aya smirked condescedingly at Sakura, pleased at how her boyfriend was handling it.

"Fuck off, Uchiha," Sakura growled.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The only sounds were the waterfalls rushing into the pool and the trickling of the water when Hinata nervously swayed her feet back and forth in the water.

“Why don’t you stay on one side of the pool, and we’ll stay in another?” Hinata suggested in a let’s-stop-fighting peacemaker voice.

Neji nodded, because he didn't dare disagree. If Hiashi found out...

A while later after following Hinata’s plan, Tenten and Neji were already in an argument (in which Kin sent a death glare at Tenten for “the attempt to steal her man”), Sasuke and Sakura were casting dirty looks at each other across the pool, and Ino and Aya were in a catfight.

Sakura hated Sasuke ever since she was in fourth grade. Well, she didn’t always hate him. In fact, there was a point where she was madly in love with him.

Didn’t every girl have a little crush on him at least for a short while? Of course, and Sakura was one of them. One of the long-term ones.

In fourth grade, back when Sakura was a nerd with geeky clothes and an ugly haircut, she had the misfortune to fall in love with the hottest guy in Konoha Secondary. Namely Uchiha Sasuke.

And on Valentine’s Day, she finally had the guts to go up to Sasuke and tell him about her undying love. But he brushed her off.

Not interested.

His blunt answer.

His unconcerned (beautiful) face.

His cold look.

It took those three things to make Sakura hate Sasuke more than she had loved him.

She reinvented herself with some help in the sixth grade, the year when she met Ishihara Azami. In fact, it was Azami who gave Sakura a whole new makeover that made her look like one of the Afters in the geek/nerd makeover shows on TV.

And that started the reign of the clique, the one which originally held five people, not four. Until one of them died.

Ever since the turn-down, Sakura and Sasuke became bitter rivals for life. They competed over everything--even the littlest things became a competition.

But for some reason, Sakura felt someone who was gazing at her intently. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the person with the pair of eyes that were staring at her. To her surprise, the person who was staring at her was Sasuke.

What is he staring at?

Wait...

Sakura’s eyes followed Sasuke’s onyx ones, in hope to track down what he was staring at.

She felt her cheeks redden. He was staring below her eyes. That only meant...

Pervert.

She got up angrily and stormed over to where Sasuke was sitting on another recliner, a few metres away from where Ino and Aya were clawing at each other (physically and verbally).

Sasuke merely looked at her nonchalantly.

“What?” He said emotionlessly.

“What were you staring at?” Sakura interrogated slowly. She talked in this way whenever she suppressed her anger.

He smirked impishly. “Don't tell me you can't feel it." Then he pointed at her ass.

Sakura turned her head so she was looking down at the backside of her body.

The only word she could say was shit.

If you’ve ever known how it felt like to have something humiliating in front of your rival or enemy, you should know how Sakura felt. Except she had the most humiliating thing in the world.

Why couldn't I feel it?

She could now.

Sakura could feel the uncomfortable feeling as the bikini was snagged into her butt like she got a wedgie. She felt her face burn up as if she caught that same horrible fever that she had last winter. Sakura panicked about what she should do. She couldn’t do it now--not when he was looking! But she couldn’t just leave it there either...

“Oi, Haruno, did you get a wedgie?” Sasuke’s smug voice broke her frozen state of shock. She reached her boiling point.

“Shut up,” Sakura spat out, mortified. She prayed to God to send something or someone--anything--to save her from the embarrassment.

Come on Ino...Tenten...anybody! She inwardly screamed. Just save me!

“But you know,” Sasuke continued. “It doesn’t look that bad.” He looked up and down at her. “At least you have a nice ass. Did you get it from Yumiko’s Plastic Surgery clinic?”

Yumiko’s Plastic Surgery clinic (or YPS) was famous for their plastic butts and cleavage that were inspired by the models in Playboy and Icha Icha Paradise magazines. Nearly all of the Bitches had theirs done there. It was practically a diss.

“You seem to know a lot about YPS,” Sakura recharged the battery inside her head, frantically searching for a good counter-diss. “How many of your girlfriends had their boobs filled with plastic?”

“At least they’re not flat-chested,” Sasuke shot back, smirking in his arrogant way. Sakura fought the urge to slap him across the face as he glanced at her chest.

Sakura opened her mouth to insult him back, until the annoying Aya-the-slut’s voice interrupted. It looks like she stopped the hissy fit with Ino just to see what her darling boyfriend was doing.

“Sasuke-kun, what are you doing?” Aya demanded in a shrill voice, almost as if she just caught Sasuke killing a five-year old.

Sasuke wrapped an arm around Aya’s waist (at which Sakura dry-heaved at) and kissed her in response. Sakura was positive that she had turned green when Aya turned red and giggled.

“Sasuke-kun,” Aya said in a “seductive” voice. “You weren’t flirting with her, right?”

Sakura mimed barfing when they weren’t looking.

“Of course not,” he replied smoothly. Behind the husky, seductive voice that Sasuke always said in to his girlfriends, Sakura always noticed that there was something insincere and strained in it. As if he was forced to do it.

“You can always make it up to me,” Aya said in a disgustingly sweet voice. “Let’s go to somewhere private.”

When Sakura heard those words, she spun on her Prada flip-flop heel and walked away, disgusted at the fact that Sasuke and Aya were thinking of doing--and was going to do--that only God-knows-what.

She walked towards Ino, who was calming herself down by swallowing her iced mocha latte. Sakura saw a few scratch marks on Ino’s neck, which were probably made by Aya’s sharp fingernails. It was still freshly cut and bleeding.

“Ino, aren’t you going to clean that up?” Sakura asked in a concerned voice. “It looks bad. If you don’t, the chlorine water is going to-”

“I’m fine.” Ino cut in. She touched one of the cuts gingerly and pulled back as if it was on fire. “Maybe not,” she said as she winced.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tenten asked as she walked over to her friends. Hinata was following Tenten, carrying her fluffy Pottery Barn towel in one hand.

“Back from Neji?” Ino greeted in a grim voice.

Tenten flashed a big smile. “I won the freestyle swimming competition by five seconds.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Do they have a competition every day?

Hinata noticed the scratches on Ino’s neck. Her light grey eyes grew wide. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ino said, trying to reassure her. “At least I found out how long a whore’s fingernails are.”

“It was Aya, wasn’t it?” Tenten growled, catching on. “I’ll beat her up for you,” she cracked her knuckles.

“If you can find her,” Sakura filled in darkly. “The last time I saw her was when she disappeared with Sasuke. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to find her.”

“Ew,” Tenten wrinkled her nose in disgust when she caught on to the meaning of Sakura’s words.

“Oh well,” Ino shrugged. “She’ll probably be too sore after it anyways-”

“Ino!” All three girls yelled in unison.

“What?” Ino said innocently. “It’s just the truth-”

But doesn't the truth always kill?

“Hinata-sama,” the maid said, bowing to the Hyuuga heiress. “Your father wishes to speak to you. He’s in the east wing’s study.”

Hinata nodded. The maid bowed again and left Hinata’s bedroom with a soft click of the door.

Hinata felt a horrible, empty feeling in her stomach. She usually got those feelings whenever she was called by her father for a talk. And she got it when her mother died when she was in eighth grade.

Hinata slowly left her bedroom, her safe haven. Temporarily safe from her father’s endless you’re-not-good-enough lectures and from of the duties as heiress.

She dreaded those times where she would have to look her father in the eye, the same pale grey as hers, except as cold and hard as stone. Sometimes, she felt ashamed that she was afraid of her own father. But she didn’t blame herself.

Hinata raised her pale hand to knock on the polished door to her father’s study. The brass knocker molded into the shape of a lion thudded eerily against the wooden surface of the door.

“Name yourself and state your purpose.” Hiashi’s cold voice rang out.

“F-father, it’s me,” Hinata tried her best not to squeak. “You wanted a-”

“Come in.” His voice cut in.

Hinata took a deep breath and turned the brass handle. The door opened with a creak. She walked timidly inside.

“Sit down.” He ordered coldly, gesturing to the chintz armchair in front of him. Hinata obeyed, and sat down as carefully as she could without getting a lecture from her father for not sitting properly.

“Hinata, your duty as heiress to the Hyuuga fortune needs to be fulfilled.” Hiashi began in a solemn voice. “And part of that duty is fulfilling the promise made between the Shimizu family and ours.”

“The Shimizu family...” Hinata traced back on her father’s words and tried to make a connection with all the surnames of the noble families all over Japan. She finally made a connection. “Do you mean the millionaire family in Osaka?”

Hiashi gave a stiff nod. “The Shimzus and our family had a bond made between our companies and family. You are to be married to the eldest son and heir of the Shimizu family. His name is Daitaro Shimizu.”

Her eyes widened. She was engaged. Enough said.

Hinata couldn’t deny that she didn't know that this was coming. After all, she was the heiress of one of the most prestigious families of Konoha. Her duty was to marry some boy from a noble family that she was betrothed to. It was her destiny. Something she couldn’t avoid or not do. But she admit that she was hoping that she wouldn’t have to. She was hoping that her younger sister, Hanabi, who was considered to be more worthy to be the heiress as her father often said, to take over that duty. In other words, she hoped that she was thrown out of the position as heiress. And replaced by Hanabi. And be free at last.

But that wasn’t the reason why she was so surprised. The truth was that she wondered why she was betrothed to a boy in such short notice. Usually, in Konoha, engagements between heirs and heiresses were announced when they were at an earlier age.

“I guess you want the truth.” Hiashi said as if he’d read his daughter’s mind. “The Shimizus just made this decision. Our company--and family--will be ruined if you don’t consent to the engagement.”

Hinata couldn’t conceal the look on her face now. She could’ve sworn that the reflection of her face on the mirror hanging over the fireplace went as pale as death.

“Your uncle, Hizashi, had an unmeasurable debt to the Shimizu family before he died.” Her father explained with a grim look on his face. “Because he died, and we are his family, we must pay the debt for him. The Shimizu family is willing to let go of the debt if you are willing to marry Daitaro-san. Our companies and our families will become one through the marriage between the heir and the heiress. We will be saved--and our family and company can become more powerful through the bond.”

“What will happen if I do not accept the engagement?” Hinata whispered, her face still white with shock.

“They’ll take away our company--and change its name to extend theirs.”

In other words, the Hyuugas will become the contrary of what they are to the public. Shocking, isn’t it?

Life did really suck, Hinata thought grimly.

Ino swept her long pale blonde hair into a high cheerleader-style ponytail, while also trying to keep the beat of the exercise bicycle she was working out on. She peered at the electronic screen that was at the base of the two handles of the bike. The digits on the screen told her that she burned one thousand calories.

Ino smiled with satisfaction. Just another thousand calories and I’ll take away everything I ate yesterday.

After a few minutes of another round of cycling, Ino’s legs started to feel sore. Her sports bra and her shorts were already drenched in sweat. She glanced at the screen again. To her disappointment, it said that she only burned one hundred calories.

Oh well, Ino thought as she grabbed her towel from the handle and wiped her forehead. I’ll just throw it all up when I get home.

Ino dragged herself to the changing room from her exhausting workout.

Konoha Sportsplex Club was the biggest fitness centre in Konoha. It included a gym, a mist and dry sauna, a Jacuzzi, a pool, two tennis courts, a spa, a five-star restaurant, and a tanning room. Only the wealthiest weren't at all put off by the ridiculously high membership fee.

Ino’s weekly routines were to exercise in the KSC until she burned a whole day’s worth of meals. Then, she would soak in the Jacuzzi or burn a few pounds by staying in the dry sauna for forty minutes or more. If there was one thing that Ino had a huge obsession about, it was beauty and her weight.

Sure, every time she had to visit the nurse with the rest of the homeroom for a weight check, the nurse always put down on her health sheet, Underweight. Ino always had to sneak into the computer labs at lunchtime, scan it into her user, and alter Underweight to Normal before she had to hand it in to her father. Mr. Yamanaka never found out about his darling daughter’s obsession of weight.

Other than that, Ino had to do other things so her father woudn't find out. Being close to anorexia was the least of her problems. Besides, she had to make sure that her father will never hear about her sticking her finger into her throat and throwing up lunch or dinner.

Besides, Ino knew well enough that beauty was pain.

After another two hours in the spa, Ino changed into a sundress and a pair of white BCBG Naola heels. She slapped on sunscreen and smeared crimson lipstain all over her full lips.

Even though she knew that she was starving, she ignored her stomach’s growling that she should run into the nearest restaurant and swallow down something. Then all the exercise would be worthless.

She tried to fill her stomach with Voss, but it was no use. She felt even more ravenous when she felt the liquid slide down her throat.

Ino couldn’t resist. She stopped at convenience store and bought a jumbo-sized bag of barbeque chips and a small iced cappuccino. And in ten seconds flat, she had gulped down all the sweet fat-loaded drink down and gobbled down all of the greasy chips.

A feeling of guilt sprang into her mind when she read the nutrition facts. She had absorbed four hundred fifty calories and another two hundred fifteen for the iced cappuccino.

Ino ignored her Siamese cat, Coco, who mewed at her hopefully when she opened the front door and walked inside. Coco gave a reproachful and sad cry and stalked off. But Ino didn't care.

When her father greeted her when she walked into the house, she just mumbled a “hello” and that she needed to go to the bathroom because of her upset stomach. The pang of guilt grew wider when her oblivious father called after her if she was okay in a worried voice.

Throw it up!

The moment Ino shut and locked the door of her bathroom, she pulled up the toilet seat and threw up the half-digested contents that were formerly in her stomach.

Ino panted, and wiped the vomit at the corners of her mouth with toilet paper. Her heart raced when she heard her father walking down the hallway and at the door to the washroom she was in.

“Ino, sweetie, are you alright?” His gentle voice asked in a concerned voice.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Ino replied, trying to mask her guilt-driven voice.

Liar.

The little voice screamed in a louder voice. Liar, liar.

She felt her guilt spread like hives all over her body. She closed her eyes and opened them again to see the waste in the toilet water.

Ino tore her eyes away from the content and flushed it away. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still as beautiful as it was. Pale gold hair. Pretty ice blue eyes. Maybelline-model skin.

Too bad she didn’t feel that way inside.

In fact, she felt just like the contents that were once inside the toilet. But the only difference was that she couldn’t flush it away that easily.

Sakura sat down at the long dining table with her mother and father on the opposite side. That night’s dinner was Italian; Bruschetta as the starter, Caesar salad as the appetizer, and Primavera as the main course.

“Sakura, your cousin Akina called today,” Mrs. Haruno said, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork. She cast a stern look at the white fluffy Yukie, who was begging her for a meatball.

Sakura looked up from her plate of Primavera. “Oh really?”

Her mother nodded. “She said she’s moving to Konoha sometime in the winter this year. Isn’t that great? You’ll both be in KLD for the Arts .” Mrs. Haruno had a smile on her face.

“Yeah. Great.” Sakura echoed, hoping that her mother won’t catch the sarcasm in her voice.

Akina was a type of girl that didn’t fit in the same category Sakura did. Maybe when Sakura was a fourth grader. She had unruly, flyaway bushy orangey-red hair and hid her cat-like green eyes behind dirty lenses of her geeky glasses. Her wardrobe consisted of hand-me-downs and tie-dye shirts. She was practically a No in fashion and beauty magazines.

Akina was once in Konoha Secondary, but moved to a small home in Paris and attended a boarding school. The last time Sakura saw her cousin was shortly after when Azami died. The reason why Akina moved was unknown to Sakura--although she knew that her parents knew. But she didn’t really mind that Akina moved. Akina was an annoying brat who hung out with Ami and Karin when she was in fifth and sixth grade.

“Be nice to her,” Mr. Haruno warned. “Aunt Umi says that she’s gotten very sensitive these days.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t nice to her,” Sakura rolled her eyes and bit into a piece of garlic bread.

“Sakura,” Mrs. Haruno said in the same warning voice as her husband. “Do we need to send you to etiquette school again?”

Sakura wrinkled her nose. “Ew, no.”

When Sakura was in fifth grade, her mother forced her to attend etiquette school in the summer (because they said that Sakura embarrassed them by eating a mocha cake with a fish fork at one of their dinner parties). Except they named the program wrong. Hell was a more suitable name for it. Every time Sakura looked around, she saw lacy doilies and evil teachers who forced their students-ehem-victims to recite the names of every spoon, fork, and knives and their functions. The worst memory Sakura had about that place was that when she said incorrectly that the coffee cup was on the left side instead of the right, she was condemned to an hour of learning the proper way to sit at a formal dinner.

And the time when she asked the evil teacher which fork she could stab a person with was proper. Sakura could’ve sworn that the teacher’s face swelled as big as a balloon.

Other than learning about the setting of the dinner table, she needed to be educated on how to speak politely and nicely to people. Because of Sakura’s hot temper, it was especially hard to learn it. And Sakura was not going to go through it again, if she could help it. Ever.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour, speak politely, and don’t drop anything on their heads, like last time.” Mrs. Haruno said with a whisper of a smirk forming on her lips.

Sakura winced. Her mother was talking about that time when Sakura was five, she dropped a cake on Akina’s head (by accident, of course). It took about two hours to get all the icing and cream out of Akina’s hair. But she couldn’t deny that it was funny.

“I was five,” Sakura muttered, slightly blushing.

Mr. Haruno chuckled. Sakura glowered at him, unpleasant memories flooding her again.

“Let’s move on to something else,” her mother said quickly, noticing her daughter's expression. “Kazuo, we need to go to a very important business meeting in Paris next month with Fugaku Uchiha. Sakura can’t go because of school, so what-”

Sakura ears perked up at the surname.

“Hold on a minute,” Sakura said slowly. “Uchiha? As in the Uchiha Company?”

"Who else?" Mr. Haruno rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, Fugaku-san’s youngest son was in your class last year, right?” Mrs. Haruno said realization. She snapped her fingers. “Sasuke, was it?”

“The one that is co-president with you of the student body?” Her father inquired.

Sakura gave a curt nod. She felt her hands clench tightly over the fork she was stabbing into a meatball.

“Then you know him?” Mrs., Haruno prodded on.

“Yes,” Sakura replied grudgingly. The silver fork in her hand radiated with her heat.

“Good, you can stay with him during the business trip.” Her mother said cheerfully, this time not noticing the horrified look on her daughter’s face. “For two weeks.” She added.

“What?” Sakura nearly screamed and dropped her fork on the pasta. “Two weeks?” She repeated dumbly.

“Yes,” Mr. Haruno said slowly. “Why, is something wrong?”

Sakura quickly shook her head. She didn't want to explain the très-long tale about how she and Sasuke had become rivals. “No, I was just wondering why I can't stay home alone this time, like I usually did on your previous business trips. We have maids and everyone else to take care of me, and it's not like you don't trust them."

Her parents exchanged horribly hidden conspiratoral glances for what it seemed like a nanosecond.

"Don't question our decision, Sakura," Mrs. Haruno snapped uncharacteristically. Sakura shut her mouth, stung by her mother's stingyness.

Her father cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable at the tense atmosphere. "You'll see why soon enough," he said in a softer voice.

"Fine," Sakura said grumpily. She hated it when her parents keeping secrets from her.

“Good, everything’s settled,” Mrs. Haruno said happily, as if she had never snapped at Sakura. “I’ll call them right away. I’m sure Mikoto will be delighted.”

But there will be someone who won’t be...

“Tenten, how do I look in this dress?” Her perfect and gorgeous foster sister asked as she twirled around in a Vera Wang bridal gown with a fluffy tulle skirt. Luminous pearls were sewn onto the bodice and the sweetheart neckline, gleaming softly whenever it caught the light of the fluorescents in the dressing room.

Perfect, as usual. Tenten thought grimly. “Too big.” She said cattily as she realized that from the smirk on Tamako’s face, her stepsister did know that she looked absolutely perfect, but she wanted Tenten to be green with jealousy.

“I think you look wonderful,” Fujiko said, kissing her daughter on the cheek. And casted Tenten a rebuking look, as if to scold Tenten for putting a damper on the darling bride-to-be.

“Thanks, Mother,” Tamako simpered to Fujiko, casting a triumphant look at Tenten when her mother wasn’t looking.

As much as Tenten hated admitting this, she hated her foster sister and envied her. There were too many reasons why. Matsuki Tamako was drop-dead gorgeous with her rose-leaf complexion, perfect glossy chestnut hair, and dark blue eyes. She was everything a girl could wish for--including loving parents who adored her all the time. Tenten didn’t have all that. She was adopted; her real mother abandoned her when she was six. Her foster parents didn’t love her as much as they loved their real daughter. Tenten was pretty, yes, had great friends, and she held the coveted position of a straight-A student and star athlete, along with the privileges that came with being in the exclusive Kunoichi clique, but there was one thing she didn’t have.

Tamako didn’t exactly welcome Tenten as her foster sister at first. Or now. Tamako wasn’t used to sharing her doting parents with some other girl. In other words, she would do everything in her power to make Tenten’s life miserable as possible when they were still living in the same house. Of course, her parents never found out the truth. They were convinced that Tamako was a sweet angel to her new younger sister. It was a relief to Tenten when Tamako moved out to live in her long-time boyfriend Itachi Uchiha's penthouse suite that his father had built for him for his nineteenth birthday.

When Fujiko left to pick more dresses, Tenten took the chance to humiliate Tamako, even if there wasn't anyone else to witness it. She would just have to be satisfied with the small revenge.

When she saw the most perfect dress on one of the "reject" racks, Tenten got an idea.

“Tamako, try this on.” Tenten shoved an even poofier dress that Tenten was sure that would make Tamako look like a giant cake. The dainty lace, overly placed-on ruffles, gossamer-silk ribbons, and miles of tulle made the dress a living creature all its own.

A look of confusion swept across Tamako’s face. “This?”

“Yeah, Fujiko picked it out for you," Tenten lied smoothly. Luckily, Tamako didn't have any evidence to prove otherwise. "Just try it on," she said impatiently. "You don't want your mommy to be disappointed in you for not trying on the dress she specially selected." Tenten mock-pouted, trying to look convincing.

Her foster sister frowned slightly, but it seemed like she had thought the better of it. Tamako couldn't have her "mommy" getting mad at her. Fujiko was paying for the dress, after all. Hesitant, Tamako took the dress and swept behind the curtain of the dressing room.

A moment later, she came out, with the ridiculously over-ornamented dress on. Tenten raised her eyes eagerly, getting ready to hold her laughter inside...

“So how do I look?” Tamako twisted and turned, gazing at her ridiculously poofy self in the mirror. Even she couldn't deny that she looked like a wedding cake, mountains of icing and all.

“Lovely,” Tenten forced through gritted teeth, shoving a fist into her mouth to stop her from laughing aloud.

“Tamako, dear, try these,” Fujiko’s cheerful voice rang out. Fujiko entered the dressing room with a bone-thin blonde saleslady robed in head-to-toe black Gucci with an armful of various wedding dresses. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Tamako in the absurd dress.

“Goodness, Tamako, what are you wearing?” Fujiko asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You chose it.” Tamako countered, crossing her arms.

"Are you saying that I chose this hideous dress for you?" Fujiko demanded, horrified at the idea of her choosing a fashion no. “Take that off immediately, and try these on.” She snapped her fingers at the saleslady, who quickly hung all the dresses on the hooks.

A bemused expression flitted over Tamako's face before a deep scowl replaced it when she realized that Tenten was behind the dress hoax.

Before she disappeared behind the curtain, the heavily ruffled petticoats aflutter, Tamako shot Tenten a deadly glare.

Shit. Tenten cursed silently, frowning, unfazed by the glare. I wanted to take a picture of that.

A/N: Whoa. I expected 20 pages, not 32. I typed a lot.

I hope you liked the reedited version of Flawless Mask. I changed the title...well, the only change was that I made in there was that I made“Mask” plural. I know I changed a lot of other things, but please bear with me!!

Please review your comments, thoughts, and etc. about this chapter!

Thanks for your support, my lovely reviewers and readers!

-Chikako-chan