water stalker

Wherein Ino has a disembodied voice for a stalker. Wherein Inoichi becomes a homophobe. Wherein Shikamaru, well, gets the girl. (As usual.)

This was it. She was really saying goodbye to romance, dating, and whatnot now.

That was Ino's resolve. After what, her seventh bad breakup? With a lying, sneaking, cheating scum of a boyfriend? With someone who turned out to be gay?

Kill Me Now.

Her…bawls had been too much, that Inoichi had decided to intervene on her and Sakura's cry-your-eyes-out session—he bought her a new bikini (it's pale yellow color matching her hair, oh, sweet, sweet Daddy), and brought the whole family (plus Sakura, of course) to the beach.

And now, she was having her alone moment. It was already dark and everyone was…stuffing their faces with dinner. She didn't have the heart to join them yet, after all, she was still post break up, and a post break up Ino had to, well, ponder.

And resolve that for at least six months she was going to swear off boys—no talking, no flirting, no glancing, et cetera, et cetera.

So there she was, wading far, far into the water, which did not reach her chest as she walked further and further away (low tide was pretty and comforting to one who could barely swim, like her), watching the sun slowly settle down and fade into the horizon. Inoichi was being the faithful sentinel near the shore, albeit her urging him to come with her (he didn't want to get his last pair of briefs wet, what, Daddy), or that she was fine on her own (to which he insisted, 'of course you won't be, you're alone,' again, what, overprotective Daddy). The sky's red and orange was catching her hair and her attention when she heard a—

"Miss."

Huh. The voice was decidedly male.

And she was also going to decidedly ignore it.

She started the slow walk back, waved to an Inoichi who was eyeing her and a speck a few yards to her right like a hawk, then turned around and veered off towards the left.

And heard water splashing.

"Miss."

The world was conspiring against her today. No wait, wasn't it always?

So she backed off, and swam to the right. Far, far, far from the disembodied voice.

"Miss."

"What do you fucking need?" Her voice may have been…loud(er than usual. ahem). And she had turned quick enough that she had whiplash. With wet hair. That got into her eyes. She had to stop herself from tearing as she peeled the hair from her face.

"Sheesh. I'm just here to return your bra strap." The owner of the disembodied voice was, well, to put it mildly, hot.

(No, dude, he has abs, and his hair, although wet and glistening, was tied up in a top knot so fierce that all hair was pulled taut from his face, which had a lazy expression on its handsome, handsome fa—stop it, Ino. Remember your resolve.

Resolve.

Resolve.

Resolve.

…

DAMMIT!

She was going to have to turn red. And this was because she was embarrassed because of the bra strap! And not because of the hot voice and the hot bod and—

DAMMIT!)

"Who even wears bras under bikinis anyway? What, do you need the bra's padding? Aren't there bikinis with padding? Sheesh." The guy continued under his breath, and started to swim away, leaving an Ino doing her best imitation of a fish, clutching the offending bra strap in her hands.

"…I AM NOT EVEN WEARING A BRA, BASTARD! THIS IS NOT FRIGGIN' MINE!"

"Where are you from?"

"…over there, sir. I live near here, sir."

"Who are your parents? What do they do for a living?"

"…Nara Shikaku, sir. He's an animal breeder. Sir."

"Are you gay?"

"No. …sir."

"Do you have the potential to be a homosexual?"

"Definitely not."

"Good. But that still doesn't mean I'll let you date my daughter!"

"…"

Months later.

"Who ever thinks of using a bra strap as a potential pick up line?"

"Unique people."

SLAP.

"Where did you even get that bra strap, you pervert! And I can't believe you were already interrogated by my father!"

"See? I'm already finished with the meet-the-parents part. Now will you date me?"

Silence.

Sigh.

"…just. Just. Fine. I give up. Whatever!"

Slow, lazy grin.

Hug.

"…why are you muttering 'stupid resolve' under your breath, Ino?"

"…"

.

.

.

Ahem. Will you believe me if I told you this happened to me? Not the bra strap part, that was fiction—I had a stalker. In the water. In the beach. And mind you, he was not hot. I merely took a glance at his face, then walked away, as fast as I can, despite the fact that the ocean waves were quite determined to push me back to creepy guy's arms. I am shuddering.