She walks fine path. And he watches.
But Ino is wildfire and reckless abandon and Asuma is tired and far too wise to be playing the same game. He lets her chase those stars at night and watches in awe as they wink back at her while he chews his cigarette thoughtfully and exhales smoke with a wisp of indigo gray. She'll look up at him, doe-eyed and thoughtful before flashing him a pretty smile; and he'll watch her before turning back to the sky and wondering why something like this was happening to somebody like him. And even though he considers this an irrational and trivial crush, it's a lie and Asuma is old enough to know himself better.
They don't touch and he wants to say something—anything, really. Something about her eyes and how blue and deep they are but it's too cliché and he isn't really that kind of guy anyway so he spins a contrived story about her mother. He tells her she's a spitting image of her and she should be proud of her Yamanaka heritage. He doesn't notice his cigarette is burning up and it startles him when the ashes collapse into his beard.
Ino laughs sweetly and brushes away the fragment grays with her fingers and tells him he needs to shave.
Sometimes, she will tell him grandiose stories about saving lives in the hospital and will magnify every moment as her frail fingers trail and touch that aortic artery. But most of the time, she will tell him about her plans to settle down with a family and living a rich, happy life. She wants two kids—a boy and a girl. An average family living in a small house (preferably) near the Nanako River and a job at the Intelligence Department while her husband runs errands and part-time missions.
(something surprisingly unlike her)
Asuma will probably tell without hesitation that he is not the one for her.
And if he truly, truly cares, then he'd tip her off to Shikamaru because those two together are the right balance of yin and yang—or something hackneyed like that.
But he doesn't say it. He doesn't say it and his silence terrifies him.
She brings him flowers every stop she makes at his apartment and they make small talk but Asuma knows better than anyone that these flowers say more than she ever could.
She's only sixteen and doesn't even understand half of what love is.
Asuma knows she is willing to learn. No—scratch that—she is begging to learn. But she is walking in the wrong direction and she is heading down the wrong, wrong path and her wings crease every step of the way. They're not meant for each other and he knows it but he strings her along carelessly—mindlessly and tries not to think about Kurenai when he stares into her blue, blue eyes.
He wants to shoot her a compliment because he knows she deserves it but they wrap themselves in silence again while the night falls behind them in the backdrop.
Ino motions to the constellations and recites them breathlessly while Asuma half listens and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket. She pauses—and turns to stare at the box of cancer sticks. She has all but given up convincing him to quit and has accepted this as his natural way of coping.
Naturally, Asuma learns that Ino is coping in all the wrong ways.
"I know I'm young," she starts and puts on an effortless smile that automatically wins him over, "and you'll think I'm stupid but I really do hope you're the one."
It is her first time bringing up their relationship—or whatever this is. A mindless crush and a harmless flirtation but it startles him more than he expects; and he finds himself at a loss for words.
Ino is persistent and Asuma knows this through and through. He knows he has to let her down easy but there is no easy way out. He has obligations. The Village. Kurenai. And most of all, his unborn son. These are the kinds of things that are his shoulder weights and he knows that if he says this now, she will probably turn her back and their relationship will never be the same.
This goes to say Ino is the kind of girl who will get over rejection quickly. She is the kind of girl who doesn't let the past faze her the way others will; sometimes, she gets burned and sometimes the wings on her back will wilt and crease but she has always been bursting sunshine and morning glories—the kind of girl who never fails to follow through. And it will take her only a couple of weeks for her wings to lift while they burst through and lift her high into the blue.
But he has to pull out now because he's almost sure he'll ruin her if he doesn't.
"Someday you're going to discover I'm not as great as you thought," he tells her.
She considers this.
Asuma knows she wants to say something. But for once, Ino is quiet. They sit in silence and trepidation and his eyes channel weary panic as he rubs the pressure point on the back of his neck. This isn't how he thought this'd pan out and to be frank, he expected some more relief on his part but he can't help but feel tired and just plain irritated.
Asuma will never admit out loud but he hates himself.
Ino is resilient (and he should've expected something like this) and puts on her brightest shade of purple in conjunction with a basket of fresh lavender asters and she starts off on the road without a care. Her eyes twinkle and she smiles.
Asuma catches her gaze easily while walking alongside Kurenai, hands deep in his pockets but Ino sidesteps their path with elegance and grace practiced down to an art form. He watches for a second longer than he should before turning back to his red-eyed lover and makes some lame excuse about how blue the sky looks today. Kurenai doesn't look like she believes him but her faith trumps her doubts so she doesn't bother to pry.
Those asters are not for him and he knows it.
"They're a symbol of love—duh. There's more than one way to say I love you with flowers."
Ino breaks the next day just as easily when she loses the one patient she'd never thought she'd lose.
The asters behind her are wilting.
But here she is giving her all to resuscitate the one person who matters most.
Inoichi.
Her father is lying lifeless on the table while Ino presses whatever bit of persistence and life she has left in her hands into his chest cavity. Sakura is the one who calls for Asuma but the entirety of Team 10 arrive in time to see Ino alone in the operating room while the light shines obnoxiously above—while the nurses circle her and watch in pity—while the life machine attached with the tripwires and music streaks plays out a single note that nobody wants to hear.
"Ino."
Shikamaru approaches her in swift steps and grabs her hands, "Ino."
But there she is pressing forth and whips her hands away from him—putting whatever life she can until her chakra fails her, until her forceful resuscitations turn into weak shoves against Inoichi's chest cavity.
Shikamaru grabs her wrists roughly and she stares up at him while the single note in the background plays on, "You need to stop."
Asuma watches as that aster wilts; and he watches that first petal hit the floor.
"He's gone, Ino."
She wilts into Shikamaru's arm and opens her mouth to let out an agonized scream.
Asuma doesn't sleep that night.
Ino looks reproachful and resentful and is looking at her sensei in all the wrong ways. She is fixated and she is broken and he can't stop staring at her and these are all the things he's ever hated so much about himself; but damn it all, he has never seen her more beautiful than now and he is almost sure he never wants to see her like this again. He is fucked up, fucked up, fucked up and her eyes are screaming blue and begging him in solitude and despair.
He kisses her quick; and this becomes one kiss that is far too rushed and messy to be meaningful. Ino hesitates and avoids his gaze.
He starts, "We shouldn't—"
"—I know."
"We can't—"
"—I know."
"But you—"
"—I know."
Their conversation halts abruptly and Asuma stares her down while Ino looks forlornly at the high sky masked in blues and indigos outside the window. This time, she doesn't point out the constellations and this time, she doesn't smile. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she brushes a lock of her dull blond hair behind her ear while casually touching the banister of the staircase they're standing under.
"I really love you—you know," she smiles weakly.
Asuma isn't chewing on his cigarette this time and he is almost sure this will become one confession that will end up buried.
"Sorry," she tells him sheepishly, "I didn't mean…"
A pause—
"No. I lied," her smile disappears, "that's exactly what I meant."
Another pause.
Asuma dives in first and kisses her—this time, he kisses her hard and presses her against the wall and she takes it all while he feels the tears spill down her face.
It is all messy and wet but he could give a shit at this point and he figures he's had worse in the past and Ino, goddamn, is probably one of the best kissers he's ever met. And maybe it's the fact that she's a virgin and she's painfully naïve and unaware of this fucked up path they're bound to head down—because she's sixteen and infatuatedly in love with somebody she shouldn't be and all he can do is hold back all the tension and frustration that's been pent away all these years.
He is fucking up in all the wrong ways and he knows.
This time, he's okay with it.
But this is the kind of story that doesn't last.
They don't speak about this moment; they know it's wrong.
Ino steps back onto her path and Asuma watches from behind as she picks up the pieces and mends her fragment wings. Her eyes look bluer day by day and she starts to recite constellations and flower definitions to Shikamaru—Shikamaru—who memorizes and hinges all of her words with masked indifference and nonchalance before walking her to work at the hospital. But here is Asuma watching her path unfold from behind while he is finishing up the rest of his own; and here is Asuma with a cigarette dangling carelessly from his lips as he feigns a weak smile when she catches his gaze.
She hasn't changed her mind about him; she's tried but that's the kind of thing that'd never work in the long run. He knows this and she tells him one day by the Nanako River that it's just something she can't explain. She's already forgiven him and he's already forgiven her; this is the path they've both walked, the path they've both hesitated over before running far, far away back into their world of familiarity and comfort.
"We weren't really cut out for being rebels," she tells him.
She's right. He knows it.
But goddamn—Ino is still Ino and he thinks there'll always be a stupid part of him that will love her forever; and what they did was wrong but wrong is not an absolute term for Asuma and he thinks back to the dozens of lives he's taken away with his bare hands and he can't say all of them have been for reason. And he'd be a fool to play the moral rights card on the table at this point because—let's face it—his morals have been compromised since the day he pledged to be a shinobi of Konoha.
"Don't do anything stupid," he tells her.
Ino beams and he smiles halfheartedly with that cigarette between his lips while she stares up at the constellations in the sky.
Her eyes are bluer than ever and Asuma knows—he knows she'll be okay.
A/N: Crap. I hope I didn't take Asuma way too out of character.
Reviews are appreciated!