Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.


When Sakura dropped by Ino's apartment that morning and told Ino she had something very important to share with her, there were half a dozen juicy pieces of gossip that immediately came to Ino's mind along with the smug satisfaction that she had heard about them before Sakura; that Sakura was contemplating moving in with Naruto was not one of them.

"It's only logical," insisted Sakura. "We've been going out for eight months. Hanabi and Konohamaru moved in together after two weeks."

"That's because Hanabi's a - " started Ino, scowling.

Sakura interrupted her before she could complete the sentence. "Ino!"

"Well, she is," said Ino hotly.

When Sakura didn't respond, Ino frowned.

She hated awkward silences. Whenever she hung out with Shikamaru or Chouji, things were never this uncomfortable. They never chided her for ragging on the other women in the village, or complaining about her life. The most that they ever did was roll their eyes and sigh. Awkward silences like these simply served as an unnecessary reminder for Ino that Sakura was different. That her feelings for her best friend were different.

"Sakura?" she asked hesitantly. She had been prepared to trash Hanabi further, but Sakura's face had suddenly lost all its color. "Are you ... feeling okay?" Ino asked awkwardly.

Ino felt uncomfortable when it came to tact; her motto was 'if you can't keep up, why are you talking to me?' Sakura was different, however. Sakura was the only person that Ino could accept weakness in--maybe even craved weakness in.

When they had first met, Sakura had been being teased by some of the other kids for having a large forehead. Ino had given Sakura a ribbon to wear in her hair and told her to be proud of her forehead, but she never thought that Sakura would take her advice so far. The day that Sakura had announced that she had a crush on Uchiha Sasuke, they had fallen out. It wasn't until nearly ten years later that Ino even began to understand what she had felt that day. By then, she was ten years too late.

"Oh?" asked Sakura, apparently not aware that she had looked faint. "I'm fine. I was just thinking... would you like to come to dinner on Thursday? At Naruto's apartment? It would just be the three of us--nothing fancy. If you don't already have plans, of course."

Ino was painfully reminded of the reason that Sakura had dropped by her apartment. She leaned on the edge of the kitchen counter and stared at a stain of the floor. She was half-afraid that if she opened her mouth, some childish insult would slip out. To cover up her fear, Ino wadded a nearby dishcloth up in her hands and tossed it through the air, watching with satisfaction as it landed in the sink.

"I would love to go," she said, forcing herself to say the words.

After Sakura left, Ino glanced at the sink and spotted the dishtowel. It was pink, with traces of aquamarine woven into it in a eclectic pattern. Ino turned away from the sink and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Ino had another, more fitting motto; if they were too fucking dumb to notice your feelings, there was no use in crying over them.

Fin.