Summary: The normally boy-free Yamanaka Ino stumbles across something in her locker that leads her on an unplanned journey.
Pairing: SaixIno
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and if I did, I would be very happy.
The Letter
The bitter tasting, warm texture greeted her lips as she hurried down the street toward a large brick building that she considered torture. Ino's long blonde ponytail snapped in the air as a gust of wind blew past her, causing her violet skirt to flutter in the wind as well. Sighing, she dropped the cup of coffee into a nearby trashcan before leaving the sidewalk to cross through the dew-covered grass.
She casually wiped her lips to remove any remaining coffee before greeting one of her closest friends who immediately linked arms with her. Ino smiled at a few of the boys who passed; including the stuck-up jock that she had had a crush on recently. She was impressed that her fascination with him had grown old. Her friend- the one linked with her- still fancied him. Shaking her head in disapproval, she glanced at said friend.
"Sakura, wipe your drool," she teased.
Sakura scoffed before snapping her head in the opposite direction to further prove her dislike in Ino's statement. The blonde continued to eye her friend before rolling her eyes at how emotional her friend was. She should get away from her before she rubs off on her. Pulling away, Ino bade goodbye and headed down the opposite hall that led to her locker.
The navy lockers gleamed with excitement as she walked briskly down the hall, throwing smiles and curt nods to everyone that she passed. She was well liked; someone that the freshmen and sophomore girls looked up to as a role model. This truth forced her to reshape herself, set a good example, and to make sure that younger girls didn't let themselves be abused and swept off their feet by just any guy.
The aftertaste of the coffee lingered in her mouth as she slid her fingers over the dial while she dragged her locker combination from the inner chamber of her mind. She had been afraid that she had forgotten it over Christmas vacation, but luck rested on her side as she successfully opened her locker.
The glimmer of glitter caught her eye. Slowly glancing up, she saw a folded piece of paper that had been sparkled in glitter, most likely to make it noticeable so she didn't miss it in attempt to quickly grab her books and run to her first period. Shaking slightly, she pulled it off the locker shelf and held it in her hand. Scribbled handwriting scrawled out her name, and judging by the handwriting, Ino would have to guess it was from a boy- but from which boy?
Unfolding it, her hands continued to shake, and she felt pathetic having her nerves betray her. There was nothing nerve-racking about reading a note. She didn't need to make such a deal about it as if her life about to end. Once it was completely opened, her eyes rested on the first word- her name-, which was written in elegant handwriting that seemed to dance on the page. In fact, the few words that this boy had written seemed to dance across the lined paper.
Ino,
Follow the ink, the blackness that engulfs the world.
Follow your name as if it was all you had.
Pick up a pen,
Dance across the paper,
And you shall find something more.
Intelligent, but dense with poetry, she stared at the paper, trying to analyze the meaning behind each elegant word. Ringing of the bell told her she had a minute before first period, but she didn't care. Her mind was focused on the way his words flew across the paper, beckoning her toward it, toward the person that wrote it for her. She swallowed. This boy wanted her to find him- that's all she had comprehended from the note.
Sighing, she made the decision to skip first period and do as this note- this boy- had said and follow the ink, but she didn't know how she was supposed to follow it. She couldn't physically follow it, could she?
She shut her locker door, leaving her books in the locker, and walked down the hall, trying to read the deeper meaning behind what he had written. How would she follow ink? Was that possible? She could follow signs of course, which could be written in ink. That was possible. Did this boy plan to post signs over the school to direct her to where he was residing? He seemed to be poetic though, artistic. He wouldn't come out and say, "Go right."
Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, but no one came out of the many classrooms to ask if she had a hall pass or where she was going. It was as if she was the only one that existed, the only one that was in the school besides her target, her victim; the boy she planned to find one way or another. Moreover, she would find him and she would make him explain why he had her search for him.
Although Ino was one of the smartest girls in her year, she wasn't aware of her surroundings. As her mind wandered from one unrelated thought to another, her foot stepped into a sticky liquid. She yelped as she slipped, falling backwards in pain. Her eyes slowly opened to see her violet skirt covered in black ink, causing her to match the stained tiled floor.
Leaning forward, she ran her finger in the black liquid, coating her index finger in the black substance. Judging by the sticky thick liquid, she concluded that it was ink. She had no idea that the boy meant that she should literally follow the ink. Sighing, annoyed with her ruined clothes, she climbed to her feet and attempted to flatten her skirt.
The black ink trailed through the hallway, leading to who knows where. Following it, she was even more determined, adding onto her goal. She not only wanted to find him, but punch him for ruining her outfit. Being the superficial girl she was, she hated it when her image was ruined.
The ink trailed on; pulling her deeper into the school and down hallways, she had never been down before. A cobweb greeted her face causing her to smudge ink onto her cheek in an attempt to remove the threadlike web. She was too in tuned with her journey to even realize what she had done.
Against her will, she found herself lost as the ink trail ended, leaving her deserted and alone in an empty corridor. Growling in frustration she frantically glanced around her, taking in her surroundings, hoping that she would find some clue, a way out of this mess.
There was nothing to aid her; no one was around to help her. She was lost in her own school, which she had no idea was as large as it was. The navy lockers were dented and dusty, the floor was decorated in trash, and the ceiling was hung with cobwebs and spider webs. If anything she wanted to go back the way she came, but her determination to find this boy kept her from turning back.
Straining her ears, she caught the sound of someone's cool emotionless voice ringing down the hallway toward her. What frightened her the most was that the voice was calling her name, beckoning her to find it. She wasn't comforted, and the uninterested voice sent chills down her spine.
The worst part was it drew her closer, forced her to take a step forward. Her mind screamed at her to turn around, that it had to be some sort of trap, but her muscles wouldn't listen to her. She was pulled, drawn toward the voice as if it was smoothing music that she would be dancing to it in due time.
Her footsteps created a rhythm that was all to easy to follow, and as the voice repeated her name again and again, faster and faster, she sped up her pace and found herself running down the hall, her blond ponytail whipping behind her.
Then the voiced disappeared and she was alone next to a large door. She glanced at it, wondering if she should enter and face the coincidences. Would it be wise to walk into a room she had never entered before alone? Swallowing, she decided to risk it. She had always been one to risk everything she had to learn and get what she wanted, and right now wasn't any different.
She would find him.
Her hands gripped the cold metal of the handles as she readied herself for anything that might happen. The doors flew open as she turned and pushed. Before her was a beautiful red room with canvases decorating the walls and in the middle of the room stood a large piano covered in black ink. She stepped inside, allowing the doors to close behind her, and as the slam of the doors vibrated off the walls, the piano began playing a beautiful musical tune.
Moreover, she was in a state of shock, glancing at every corner of the room for any signs of life. Her eyes eventually rested on the piano. No one was playing it, and being drawn to the music and the question of how it was playing, she approached it.
The keys remained frozen as the music continued to play, increasing her hunger to know what was going on and what she had stumbled into. On each canvas, she noticed, there was a girl painted completely in black, dancing to the song that was playing on the piano, and she couldn't prevent herself from stepping closer to one of them. There was something oddly familiar about the girl. Her figure and hair was the same as Ino's.
A cold hand rested itself on her shoulder, causing her to jump forward slightly, knocking the paining that had been hanging on the wall to the floor. She quickly turned around, slamming her back against the wall. Before her stood a smiling boy her age dressed in black. Even his eyes and hair appeared to be the color black. His warm smile seemed to welcome her, set her mind at ease.
"Hiya, Ino."
Ino continued to stare at the tall boy, taking in his soft, boyish features. Her first impression was positive; she wanted to get to know him. She wanted to know his name, why he had brought her here, and what he wanted. She would never know if she didn't speak though.
"Who are you?"
"Sai."
Silence followed his name. She needed to know more than just who he was for sure, so she asked, "Okay, why did you bring me here?"
He continued to smile as he responded, "I didn't bring you here. I simply wrote you a note. You came on your own."
She couldn't argue with that statement. She did come on her own. He simply just supplied her with the "directions". She took a few steps from the wall as he held out a small black book. Reluctantly, she took it.
Inside were numerous pictures of her drawn in fine ink, and each one was beautiful. Normally, she saw herself as boring and uninteresting to look at it, but he made her beautiful. Was this how he saw her?
"They're yours. I've been admiring you from afar, but I'm tired of the distance. Are you?"
She was speechless, perplexed with the current events. Here was this boy who she knew she had seen around the school before- always alone and keeping to himself- and he was subtly asking her out. She didn't know whether to agree or not. He was cute, nice, and talented, so maybe she should take another risk though and give him a shot.
Moreover, every word he said was true and entered her heart with such force that it made her want to rebound back toward him. Yes, she was tired of the distance.
So she nodded and took his hand.
xxx
No flames please. I wrote this in an hour and a half because I had to rush it during school XD So yeah, anything you think I should add, let me know. I do know that I need to rewrite the ending already.
