"BUG OFF YOU PERVERT!" Ino swat at the offending gray-haired old man viciously with the pink broomstick. How many lives could you ban someone from a store? Because Jiraiya was borderline 50 lives banned. Which would be a good band name, now that she thought of it…
"But my research!" The gray-haired novelist wailed. "Without nubile young women, my books don't sell!"
Ino sighed. Jiraiya did bring in publicity for the store, through various dedications in various smut publications. Of course, that also meant more than half of Konoha City's pervy population resided around her store.
She had wanted to be a pop singer, or a model, two years ago. Eventually, after failing every audition (something about being "difficult to work with" or "an incurable diva"), she'd come back to Konoha, dejected and cranky. She'd opened this place up to deal with her own disappointment.
It was fun, especially when Forehead had to work for her to pay for some college stuff and had to call her Boss-sama. Fun teasing the newbie, Hinata-chan, about her Mount Fuji twins. But sometimes, Ino was just depressed when she remembered exactly what her life was now.
"Sir….um…."
"What?" The greasy-looking man with the dark ponytail spat, cigarette in one edge of his mouth, moving just a little.
"You can't …smoke..in here." Hinata stammered. He looks like a gang member, she thought, staring at his devil-may-care expression, cancer stick and combat boots.
"Oh?" His eyes lifted up quizzically.
"Yes…."Hinata squeaked, hugging her arms together to ward off her own inner fear.
The doorbell chimed a merry little jingle and Ino, resplendent in a blue Tinkerbell-style winged lingerie piece, danced in, grinning wildly. At the sight of the gang member, she squealed and rushed forward, glomping the expressionless man with great force.
"Shika-kun!"
"Ino."
"You…know..each other?" Hinata looked at the greasy smoker and the fairy-like, petite little blonde with some confusion.
"He's my boyfriend, you silly girl!" Ino smiled cheerily, pulling a childish pair of rabbit ears behind the smoker's tight ponytail. "And he's just such a great guy!" She gushed.
"Thank you." It sounded more weary than happy, Hinata thought, and as she thought it, "Shika-kun"slowly disengaged from the grasp of Ino, placing in her hands a take-out box from Ichiriki Ramen.
"Got you dinner."
The blonde's eyes stayed smiling, but the atmosphere had changed and Hinata felt some new tension creeping into the blonde.
"Staying out late again?"
"Yes."
Without even a goodbye, he strides to the door, closing it with the same merry jingle, walking down the street with his cigarette in his mouth, still nonchalant. Still nothing.
"Are you alright, Ino-chan?" Hinata asks. The blonde's mouth is slightly open as she stares after her boyfriend, her eyes twitching unnaturally, her hands on the take-out a little too steady, crumpling some of the paper box itself.
With a Stepford smile, Ino turns back to Hinata.
"I'm fine, Hinata-chan."
What a lie.
What a hopeless, idiotic lie.
She wanders, in her street clothes, into Ichiriki Ramen.
The man behind the counter greets her warmly, of course.
She's the only one willing to pay rent for the bare little apartment upstairs, the one that used to crawl with cockroaches and smell of detergent and stale liquor.
Climbing the stairs to get home, she remembers the first day of moving in.
How he carried all the boxes upstairs, even her own, and refused to let her deal with them.
Aren't I your boyfriend?
She'd nodded.
This is what boyfriends do, so I'm doing it.
She remembered the first day he lost his job.
Her incessant comforting, his own tired acceptance turning to annoyance after she carried on.
Did I try too hard to show you I loved you, Shikamaru?
Is that why you turned away, became distant?
Why you started going to see Temari again?
I thought you said you were over her, that she hurt you.
Never again.
She climbs onto the grey duvet of their bed and grabs her pillow, dank, smelling of the tears she's cried for days into it, secretly.
What's another day anyway?
I wanted a ring.
I wanted a family.
I wanted all those with you, Shika.
But now….
I don't think you want me anymore.
More tears to add to her pillow are all she gets now.
AN: Just about killed me to write that. ShikaIno is my OTP and I have no intention of severing them, for other rabid fangirls and boys out there. But this will make it a little harder for them to work it out, obviously. And since I'm writing this:
IN CASE YOU THOUGHT I DID, I DON'T OWN NARUTO. KISHIMOTO-SAMA DOES. I WISH I DID, BUT I DON'T. END.