I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

Nine Minutes

She's scared. I can feel it thrumming through our veins, twining together with my own fear and quickening the beat of our heart. I try to slow the rapid thumping, but all I manage to do is break into her fragile concentration and send us tripping over another thick root – again. Just like the other times, I strain to catch us but her control is stubborn, even now, and we hit the ground hard for the fourth time.

We lie sprawled in the dirt, cheek pressed into the rocks. Our breaths come loudly and quickly, catching breathlessly. The seconds rush past.

Ino, you have to get up.

She curls our fingers against the earth and slowly rises to all fours. She won't open her eyes.

Come on. Keep going.

I can feel it – I'm more anxious than her. I've always been. Even when death was too far away to be anything more than a myth, I had been the one sheltered behind Ino's back, tugging nervously at her arm while she stood up for me. But now, she's shaking even as she's painfully aware of time passing us by. It scares me to realise that, if I let her, she would just kneel here, frozen, until…

She hears my thoughts. It scares her, too, because she knows it's true. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

She's not scared; she's terrified. If I pointed it out to her, she would lie like usual. Some things don't change, no matter what.

A rough, harsh sound bites into our ears. It takes us a moment to realise it's the sound of molars grinding into each other. It's not Ino; it's me. I clench our dirt-encrusted hands into tight fists.

Ino, give me my body.

"Sakura-"

She's scared – so scared. She's petrified when I wrench our legs from her control and dig our feet into the loose dirt. When I thrust us forward, ripping past branches that scar our limbs, I can feel her fluttering in shock. The sudden sensation of being disembodied, of feeling like nothing, tears into both of us. Her first instinct is to snatch my body back, but we already know my willpower is stronger. Even so, we're surprised when it's me that hisses out the next words.

"I won't let it… end this way!" My voice cracks. It's an ugly sound, the kind neither of us would be caught dead making.

Too late, Ino pointed out faintly, and I can imagine her all too easily, smiling wearily, still mocking me.

"Shut up, Pig." Another tree root – but I've got us this time. I keep us moving, narrowly swaying past a large oak, and propel us forward at twice the speed. Our body burns. It's only been pushed so far a handful of times. I should have healed the deep gash across our back, but there's no time now.

You have plenty of time. Fix yourself up before you bleed to death.

We rip through the trees, the wind. Damn it, Ino.

Why are you so frustrated, Forehead? You'll get pimples.

My eyes are stinging from the cold air. "Damn it!" My hoarse yell breaks into the silence of the woods. Hearing it echo undisturbed agitates me. Aren't we there yet? How long until we are? "This is about you, Ino! It's about you!"

She's quiet. She's still calmer than me. Then, softly, she asks, Are you scared?

"Are you?"

Of course not.

"Of course."

Wet. Our face is wet. I'm pathetic. She didn't cry when the eyes were hers. Ino had always been stronger. I was still a crybaby, wasn't I?

Sakura. She doesn't say anything more. Just my name. But it's enough to make me choke on the next tears. She's the one who lifts our arm and drags the back of our hand across our eyes and cheeks. I have to let her do it. I'm too busy chasing time, too busy keeping control without rejecting her, to stop her wiping my tears for the last time.

"How… how long?" I croak. She's been counting, I know. Her thoughts are mingling with mine and I actually already know the answer, in some vague, ghostly sense.

Give or take… five minutes?

Five minutes already. I try to hide my despair by chuckling. "Tripping over every ten seconds probably didn't help, huh?"

Not my fault I'm not used to your flat-chested body.

"You boar."

She knows I'm relieved to hear her, to know she's still here. She keeps wiping my tears as I race us through the trees. I swallow thickly. The thoughts aren't mine and I can tell she's trying to throw up a barrier between us so I don't hear them – but she's too weak and I break them down before she can expend more energy trying again. It's not the time for her to feign strength and protect me.

I worry with her. What if we don't get there in time? What if he's not where he's supposed to be? What if it hurts him?

Soon, the tears aren't my own anymore, and I'm the one who dashes them away. "I won't let it end this way," I whisper again. "I won't, okay?"

I know exactly when she drops. That's because she crashes into me, knocking me aside as she slams into a tree. She hangs there on unsteady legs for a second, before she starts to pitch forward.

When she hits the ground, my first thought isn't for her safety; it's for mine. There were eight of us before the ambush. Now it's just me and I know when a battle is lost. It's a selfish thought, the calculated kind that has been drilled into us. It's not about dying anymore. It's about staying alive to be there when your village needs you.

Even so, I'm hardly able to think as I desperately smash the ground beneath our feet with a yell. I don't even look to see if the quake catches the enemy. I'm already gone, Ino thrown over my shoulder as I pelt through the forest. Her blood is sticky and warm. It seeps through my shirt and distracts me. I can't tell if we're being followed.

Then Ino moans and I don't care about anything anymore. I skid to a stop, panting heavily. Carefully, I let her down and lay her gently on dead leaves.

One look tells me what I refuse to believe. I rip open what remains of her vest and shakily press my hands to her ghastly wounds. I don't know where to start. I knit together what I can, ignoring the tingle of chakra depletion numbing my fingers, and convince myself that her small breaths aren't growing shallower.

"Ino," I mutter. "Ino, goddamn it, stay with me!"

Her brow furrows as if my voice is too loud for her. She coughs and I have to stop healing her to hold her up before she chokes on her own blood. She's completely limp as she slumps against me. And yet her pale fingers somehow manage to clutch my vest, holding me close when I try to lay her back down.

Slowly, she opens her glazed eyes. "So…" Her voice is an inaudible rasp. "H-How bad… is it?"

"Not that bad."

She smiles. "You were right, Forehead… should… should've t-told him when I had the chance to." Her eyelids flutter. "You're always right…"

I lean in and silently rest my forehead against hers, squeezing my eyes shut. I try not to jolt her with the way my shoulders are trembling. But the more I try to keep them down, the faster and sharper the sobs come up, and soon I'm choking on them. Ino sighs. "Don't tell me your snotty face is the last… thing I have to see."

That sobers me a little, but not enough to snap back an indignant comeback. I end up making some kind of croaky snivel that Ino tries to laugh at. Instead, crimson bubbles at her lips and she's thrown into another fit of coughs.

She's far too pale when she falls back into my arms, her breathing laboured. Her hand has slid off my vest and lies limply on the ground. I hover over her. "Ino?"

It takes several shallow breaths for her to gather enough strength to open her eyes again. Her milky pupils let me know that she is in so much pain. My hand hesitates over her body. My throat is dry. "Do you want me to…" I can't say it. She still hears it, though, and shakes her head.

Several moments of silence pass with me simply holding her. When she speaks up again, I have to put my ear by her cracked lips just to catch the faint sounds.

"Do me… a favour… Sakura?"

I squeeze her hand, not trusting my voice.

Her blue eyes glisten. "I… I want to see him."

It only takes seconds for me to understand. I can tell she's glad to see my eyes light up with realisation on their own; she doesn't have the breath to talk anymore.

I put myself directly in her line of vision, take a breath deep enough for both of us, and look her in the eye. "Don't miss."

She's silent again, so silent I feel like myself. I don't like that. I clench our fingers tightly, ragged nails slicing into our dirty palms. She stirs at the sharp prick. What?

My mouth is parched, my throat is burning and my lungs feel like they are on fire. I can't really speak. Keep talking.

Well, give me something to talk about. That's when it hits me – and her – that, already, she's having trouble thinking. Our heart skips a beat. I peer into her consciousness and see that we have less than three minutes.

I take in a shuddery breath. When this war is over, the first thing I'm going to do is take a shower. What about you?

Seriously, Billboard Brow? A shower?

What's wrong with that?

Girl, I am dragging you to the hot springs.

Oh. Please do.

The soil beneath our pounding feet begins to harden. The trees thin, and finally the last of the undergrowth peters out. We are racing along red, hard earth. We're getting closer.

Ino? Can you help me trim my hair later?

She pulls our hand up to touch the uneven locks and we think back years ago, to the two of us kneeling in the Forest of Death. Sure.

I'm not sorry that we broke away from each other to become rivals. The terrible things we said, the hurtful gestures we made – they taught us things. There are things that you just can't give up on.

We're both quiet. We've begun to streak past fallen shinobi. There's no time to count how many are ours.

I bet Naruto is going to ask you out after this, she tells me.

I roll my eyes. He's always asking me out.

You should really say yes, you know.

Ino, he's like a brother to me. I can't believe we're having this talk again. I can't believe it's the last time we'll argue about this.

Careful there. You don't want to regret this, Sakura. She doesn't want me to ever understand what it's like to be out of time and too late.

Our vision swims again. She sighs at my terrible composure, but she can no longer find the strength to lift our arms. I have to wipe the tears myself.

"Can't you stay?" I whisper. I press our palm into our eyes. "You can stay here… with me. Ino?"

Somehow, I know she's smiling. The only problem is she wants to cry. Your love life will be hell if I stick around.

"I don't care! Just-"

Sakura. She twitches our fingers, like she's trying to hold my hand. Let it happen.

She lets me see it. I see that she's so much more afraid than I thought, that she wants to run into her parents' arms and stay there, that there are millions of things she wishes she could say to hundreds of people, thousands of things she wants to do. Then she makes me look at the bodies strewn around us and makes me see that these same thoughts were in those people's minds before they tunneled to darkness. She thinks she's cheated. This time isn't hers.

I'm sorry, she murmurs to me. This isn't fair to you.

I shake my head. What are friends for? I would say so much more, but we can see the battle now. It's a mess, almost as bad as ours, but it's almost over.

We plunge into the fray. One minute.

How long, do you reckon?

I lay my fingers on her wrist. She pulls my hand – our hand – away as soon as I've ascertained the damage. She doesn't like how cold and clammy her skin is. With that simple motion, she's taken over my body. It's not a pleasant experience for me, but for her, she's relieved to slide into my limbs. Her mind floods into mine, and I'm momentarily staggered by her memories of searing pain, of being blinded by the numbness, sickened by the acrid stench of her own ravaged flesh.

Then she's back in control and she locks the horrible images away. "Sorry." We both flinch at the sound of my voice, thin and suddenly alien to both of us.

I focus again. Organs will fail in three minutes. Four minutes max.

It's hard for both of us. It's a ruthless countdown. We look at her body. Her face looks peaceful. Our hands jerk, uncoordinated, as if she's trying to keep herself from touching her dying self.

"Four minutes, huh?" she murmurs. "I might be able to hang on for another five after… after…"

She can't finish it, and I don't want her to. Nine minutes then, I conclude. I sound relentlessly calm. Cold, hard facts. It helps her get a hold of herself. We know what we have to do and we know what will happen. There's nothing to lose. That's what we tell ourselves.

She pulls us to our feet. She's unsure of my body and we stand unsteadily. Her control is not what it should be, and we almost trip over her inert figure at our feet. The thought makes us flinch. We waste precious seconds gazing down at her body. I can tell she's finally seeing things about herself that mirrors could never reflect.

I don't protest when she makes us drop back down to our knees. We lean over her body and gather her in our arms. She feels small. Our face burrows into her soft hair. The scent of her flowery shampoo fills our nose.

"Bye," she whispers to herself.

Nine minutes. Five hundred and forty seconds. To me, it's not enough. To her, it's more than she could ever ask for.

The ring of metal around us is deafening. We're aware of how vulnerable we are, exhausted, injured and distracted as we push through the fights. But there's nothing else we can do. Time won't stop.

Our eyes wildly scan the blurs of movement. "He's not here!" I cry out.

He is! He's here somewhere! She's not lying to herself. She knows – she feels it.

It's not surprising that, somehow, she sees him before I do. She jerks our eyes to the far left, spinning us round excitedly. She's suddenly there in my head, my body.

Thirty seconds.

She pushes us forward, eyes only on him. I'm the one who sees that she's not moving fast enough, and I'm the one who hastily takes over before we're roasted by a Katon. She automatically fights me for control, but I keep her down. I can't let her interrupt the last thing I can do for her.

My body has far exceeded its limit. Still, I make it move. I seize an airborne kunai from the smoking air and rip through anyone without a Leaf forehead protector. My path is straight, the only one I can see. He is the only one I can see. As we draw closer, Ino springs into our fingers and toes, reaching for him.

Three shuriken slam into our back just as we break through the bodies. The pain comes hard and loud, but it's not the reason for the tears in our eyes. I throw us forward, hurtle my mind back and shove Ino into the seat.

"Go!"

It's all her now. She crushes the kunai into the unsuspecting enemy and heaves him off Shikamaru, whose eyes widen when they land on her blood-streaked face. "Sakura, what-"

She seizes his vest and hurriedly pushes her lips into his. He responds without thinking, and that shocks me – and incenses Ino – until he groans brokenly with despair. He knows it's her. He's figured it out already.

Ino is crying. She can taste the salt of the tears almost as pungently as him. He tastes bitter. She doesn't like that he's been smoking.

We were wrong. The last of nine minutes trickles away, and she's still here. She stubbornly holds on, living every second in his arms. As she buries her face into his neck, she calls out to me. I had forced myself into the smallest recess of my mind to give them as much privacy as I could. She's amused to find me squished in a corner. Thanks, Sakura.

She whimpers and Shikamaru holds her tighter, sighing. The sound came from me. Ino, just… just stay. Please.

She smiles. I know it's for me. She leans up to kiss Shikamaru one more time, slowly and softly.

I'm beginning to surface. Desperately, I try to retreat back into my corner. No, no, no… Ino!

She murmurs something into his lips, something I don't even try to hear. He squeezes her hand. His lips are warm and taste coppery with blood, salty with both our tears. His arms secure me to him. He's gentle, avoiding my wounds.

He realises it the same time I do. His eyes fly open and I pull away, gasping because I've forgotten how to breathe. He stares disbelievingly at me, slowly shaking his head. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to break down in front of him.

"She's gone," I hear myself say. "She's gone."

His hands grip my shoulders. He's leaning in again, crushing his lips against mine. He's desperate, but it's so wrong. We both know it. I break away, pushing him back. He trips over his own feet and falls to his backside. He looks bewildered, stunned. "She's gone, Shikamaru!" I have to scream at him. I watch as his face twists in agony. It rips into me like a guilty blade.

I don't know when I had sunk to my knees. I stare at my hands. Tears drip steadily onto them, washing away the blood and dirt. "She's gone," I repeat, for myself. I have to say it again when Shikamaru crawls over to me and tries to put his arms around me again. "She's gone… damn it. She's gone!"

He seizes me even when I try to shove him back. He pulls me into his blood-soaked vest. His voice is hoarse by the time I realise it's my name he's saying. My name. My body. I'm the only one here.

"Sakura! Sakura – stop! She told me to take care of you!"

He's shaking, crying into my hair. The world keeps moving around us. It won't stop, even now.

"She said-" He breaks off to swallow. "She said to make sure you go to the hot springs and the hairdresser's. I have to pay for you."

I laugh. He does too. We sound terrible.

"I'm also supposed to somehow set you up with Naruto."

I choke, and it sounds like Ino's laughter.

"Sakura? You're crying again? Who teased you this time?"

"N-No one…"

"Come on, just tell me. I'll teach them a good lesson!"

"Ino-chan… the flower died."

"Eh? Flower? They die all the time."

"But it's sad!"

"You silly girl. Everything dies. What's important is that it lived."

"Huh? I don't – ow! Why did you flick me?"

"Sakura, it doesn't matter how long a flower lives for. The fact that it existed and was alive makes it beautiful. So don't cry, okay?"

A/N: I have realised that most of my oneshots seem to be tragedies. That is rather depressing. On a side note, I love Ino. Sad that I had to kill her to realise this, but she is one of my most favourite characters.

This story can be confusing. To clarify, the italicised chunks are flashbacks. The last bit is from Sakura and Ino's childhood. If you're still confused overall, think of a certain Yamanaka jutsu.

I wasn't necessarily inspired by it, but having read The Host by Stephenie Meyer did make this story easier to write. Twilight aside, I do recommend the book. I liked most of it - well, until the ending. Still, I found it a good read.

Welcome to 2012, everyone!