summary ;; You always wanted a happy ending--NAO--this wasn't.
a / n ;; didn't turn out quite how I had it planned, but, well Nao needed some love in this fandom (and Sota too even if he isn't mentioned outright). Don't comment on the wonky tenses. I know. ._. For .oh my glitter and garters. who is more brilliant at thirteen than I could hope to be ever.
When you were little, before make-up and text messages and D+B heels that slapped the pavement in rhythm with the swing of your hips, you dreamt of fairy godmothers and Prince Charming, boys that would sweep you off your feet and shower you with diamonds and glitter and promises of until my atoms break apart, baby. And you would smile and smile for hours, watching the flutter-flap of pixie wings, the ashen footprints of zashiki-warashi, counting the strokes of midnight (even though you shouldn't be up so late, darling) but this is magic this is when everything changes and if I can just keep my eyes open for a moment longer just keep them open...
And because the storybook pages always held a happily ever after you never had to worry about the unpretty details-- the whip crack of a witch's laugh, the broken glass angle of a raven's beak, towers too high to escape from.
The moral was always clear-- good lasts.
And silly, silly you wove the lovely lies around your throat until your head and heart went soft (or, really, never hardened to begin with), and your spine grew straight without the weight of the world on your shoulders. The city streets were bright and alive, and princess, you couldn't help but pick the toads from the gutter and even if none of them turned into princes beneath your lips, you still had another chance to get it right.
He did come eventually, your knight in shining armor, the boy in leather with the hero-complex and ink-bright motorcycle. The promises he sowed made your heart hammer and your head swim, because he's got a full tank and a new engine (and shoddy brakes) and your happy ending's only a highway away, off into the sunset like all the best fairytales--
Only this one ends with a hairpin turn and a scream and fireworks, baby. And somewhere between being dead and being a ghost you feel a metal disc beneath your palm.