Prologue: Retrospect

Warnings: Some name-calling, and if you don't like yuri lime, cover your eyes. God knows how much citrus stings when you accidentally get an eyeful of it.

Author's Note: What better way to start off a story with a nice little angsty flashback? This opening chapter is a mess, it will probably undergo a serious rewrite sometime in the near future. In the mean time, here it is. So just to avoid any confusion, this is indeed a flashback, taking place some two years before the rest of the story does. There will be another flashback chapter sometime soon! Maybe! I guess. We'll see.

But why aren't you reading yet?

Oh, wait, before you go...:

Disclaimer: Something tells me I could never get away with pretending that I own Haruno Sakura or Yamanaka Ino, despite the fact that all them haters assure me that they would never notice their absence if I stole them away. Damn haters.

Ino stormed into the kitchen, a half step behind Sakura. "What is your problem?" she shrieked.

Sakura whirled on her, still backing away, her expression taut and unreadable, eyes glittering. Her hand shook as she jabbed an angry finger in Ino's direction. "Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare."

"Don't what?" Ino screamed at her, incredulous. "Don't… enjoy myself? Don't go out to see my friends? Don't live my life?"

"Enough semantics, Ino. Why don't you try being honest with yourself? You flaunt yourself like a whore."

Ino kept herself composed. "Jealousy, Sakura?"

"No, Ino. Disgust. You disgust me!" Sakura turned away from the girl and paced awkwardly back and forth in the narrow space that was the kitchen of Ino's apartment, looking like a caged animal, her fingers knotted in her hair. Ino caught a glimpse of Sakura's face, and was suddenly struck by how desperately apologetic she looked. Ino didn't know if it was because she didn't mean what she said, or because she realized belatedly that she had left herself open to Ino's comeback.

Ino didn't care which it was.

"Oh, so, today you're taking the moral high ground, are you? Tired of pretending to be a victim all the time, now you're trying to put yourself up on a pedestal, set a shining example for us all? Enough semantics, Sakura," Ino spat. "You're a fucking hypocrite."

"At least I don't sleep around!" Sakura hurled back, finally lowering her hands from her face, knuckles white.

"Oh?" Ino's voice took on a dangerous tone, and she closed the gap between the two girls, her hands held at her sides, palms open. Sakura fled, backing herself into a corner, her eyes darting, terrified; Ino kept pace with her every step. "I'm confused, Sakura," she murmured, baiting. "Between the things you say to me now and the things you tell me at night…"

"Don't," Sakura hissed.

Ino pressed her lithe body up against Sakura's rigid form, her hands coming up to rest on the edge of the counter, trapping her. "The things you beg me to do to you…"

"Ino," Sakura warned.

She turned her face away in a panic as Ino closed the gap, pressing her lips to Sakura's jaw line, bitterly lingering. Sakura closed her eyes tightly, shuddering, convulsing as Ino dragged her knuckles up her ribcage, a threatening caress. She kissed Sakura again before moving her mouth and dragging her teeth across the shell of Sakura's ear. Her voice dropped, thick and low, a salacious whisper, taunting. "The way you let me fuck you…"

Sakura heaved violently, her hands coming up quickly to shove Ino away. Ino was ready for her, though, catching hold of both of Sakura's wrists, crossing them and pinning them to the cupboards above Sakura's head. The pink-haired kunoichi choked out a defeated sob as Ino crushed their bodies together and gently kissed the corner of Sakura's mouth. "Ino, stop," Sakura whispered.

"You don't want me to stop," Ino murmured into her lips.

"Please," Sakura sobbed. She could taste her own tears on Ino's lips.

Ino relaxed her grip on Sakura's wrists, allowing her arms to drop but not lowering her own. She hesitated, waiting to see if Sakura would push her away again. When Sakura made no move to do so, Ino grinned voraciously and kissed her again, gently biting the other girl's lower lip. Sakura didn't react; Ino lowered one of her arms, her fingertips trailing down along her cheekbone and down to her jaw. Sakura turned away, and Ino cupped her face gently, kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, and then slowly worked her way back up again.

"Ino," Sakura started softly. Ino could feel Sakura's voice vibrating in her throat as she kissed her.

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry, Ino."

Ino said nothing, so Sakura continued.

"I'm sorry I ever came back here."

Ino kissed her through her hurtful words, always gentle.

"I never wanted to see you again," Sakura whispered.

Ino kissed her one last time, lingering, before she pulled away and took half a step back.

Sakura's heart fell still in her chest when she saw the hurt on Ino's face, painfully reminiscent of that day, so many years ago, when Sakura had rejected the blonde's friendship; when she had returned that red ribbon, burned the bridge she never wanted to cross, broke her heart. "Ino," Sakura called softly, reaching out slowly.

Ino recoiled, backed away another step and averted her gaze. "I love you, Sakura," Ino said abruptly, unable to look the other girl in the eye.

"I can't do this," Sakura whispered.

Ino wouldn't look at her as she backed away, putting her back to the wall, her gaze riveted on some empty point in space between them. Deathly still, Ino didn't speak when Sakura walked past silently, didn't move until she heard the apartment door close behind her. Then, tears welling in her eyes, Ino inhaled suddenly – a broken gasp – raising her hand to her own lips. Her other arm tightened convulsively around her waist, fingers digging mercilessly into her own flesh. She turned, vision swimming as she stared at her front door, wishing Sakura would change her mind, would come back, would accept her; but she didn't. She couldn't.

Ino crumbled.

Her knees struck the hardwood floor, the impact harsh and loud in her own ears. She keeled over, elbows bruising, pressing her forehead into the ground. She sobbed, so sudden and hoarse that her chest ached. All semblance of confidence and dignity dissipating in a torrent of tears, Yamanaka Ino broke down and wept.