Author's Note (9/18/17):
Woohoo! Another chapter edited, only five more to go. (Ugg, my writing was so BAD...)
Like the previous two, this chapter has been heavily edited for style, grammar, POV, and characterization since its original posting. A fresh read-through is highly recommended.
Word Count: 6315
Chapter Warnings: profanity, sensuality, adult content, implied mental trauma
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{ oOo }
Eager eyes tend to get what they want
When they learn to crawl on their hands and knees
They're taught how to feast on the flesh that's beneath
We build on lust, far from bravery
- Sleep for Sleepers -
{ oOo }
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The strangled light of early morning filtered weakly through the drawn curtains of the hokage's office, a silent witness to the activity of the hokage's ever faithful assistant, Shizune. She was up with the sun everyday, flitting to and fro about Tsunade's workspace, cleaning, organizing, and fussing over the little details that so often escaped her leader's notice, all while turning a blind eye to the evidence left behind of the previous day's indiscretions. Today was much the same for the self-sacrificing kunoichi, yet today she had a bit more bounce in her step, more twinkle in her eye, and more elbow in her grease.
Shizune wasn't alone in her state of mind.
It seemed the whole tower was in a tizzy, the place's minions arriving at work early, ready to exchange speculations, rumors, and theories around the proverbial water cooler. The anticipation was infectious and, somehow, it managed to reach the hokage herself, compelling her to rise from her bed several hours prior to her norm, though still much later than her industrious companion. The morning found Tsunade primly sitting at her desk at a quarter to nine, rhythmically tapping her nails against the tension taking up residence in the pit of her stomach.
"Shizune, has Ibiki's report arrived yet?" Tsunade stopped abusing her desk just long enough to pin her assistant with an impatient look.
"No, not yet," came the reply, its joyful undertones further grating on the blonde's frazzled nerves. "I'm sure he'll be finished soon."
A lot was riding on this. The entire war could possibly be riding on this and that knowledge weighed heavily upon Tsunade. Everyone was anticipating a great revelation to come from their newly acquired prisoner. But what if nothing came of it? What if they were back to square one, with no suspects, no motives, and no leads? Where would she go from here? How would she lead her people?
There were too many questions and not even close to enough answers. Tsunade could tick off the list what they were sure of with the fingers of one hand.
One: They were sure that some outside force was manipulating civilians, through means still to be determined, into crazed mob style murders.
Two: They knew that whole villages at a time were affected, down to the very last individual, and anyone who managed to survive had no memory of anything leading up to the attack, just the vague recollection of burning flames all around.
Three: They knew that large-scale suppression of the aggressors usually resulted in the village "waking up" of sorts, but that was little better than blowing out a single match in the midst of a forest ravished by a wildfire.
Four: They knew, due to a lucky break by Suna's elite reconnaissance team, that a man with dark features and pale skin, which made the unusual tattoo on his neck unmistakable, had been observing the carnage near their border with the Land of Rain.
That was it, all the evidence, information, and intelligence with which she had to make these increasingly critical decisions.
All the while, the fires and the silence and the ever-increasing death toll crept farther and farther into the Lands of Fire and Wind. Without a way to combat what was going on, whatever it was, soon the Konohagakure and the last of its allies would also be swallowed up. As hokage, her people expected her, needed her, to protect them. The stress of it all twisted all her muscles into knots, making her feel every one of her many years. She would need to find a damn good masseuse if she made it through this crisis.
A knock on the great doors rang out sharply in the silence of the room. Shizune rushed to let the anticipated guest in, but rather than greeting Ibiki or one of his underlings, the open door revealed Shikamaru.
"This is not a good time. Whatever it is, it can wait until later." Tsunade waved her hand dismissively at the visitor, her greeting full of the weariness she felt.
"Ibiki sent me with his report," he said, waving a manilla folder in front of his face. Tsunade straightened abruptly in her chair, now entirely focused on the young man. Clearing his throat, Shikamaru went on. "So far, it's not good. The prisoner isn't talking and Ibiki and his team have done all they can, considering the prisoner is a civilian. Invasive techniques are not an option, unless you give the okay."
"You want me to give the okay for full interrogation, Shikamaru? You know that goes against what we stand for. I–"
"Excuse me for interrupting, Lady Tsunade, but that was not what I was implying. No one wants torture the kid, let alone take the chance of the permanent mental damage that our more subtle approaches tend to inflict. Ibiki brought me in to help him run through the options we have." Shikamaru stopped speaking just long enough to drop the file on her desk and take a seat. "As far as I can see, we only have three."
"Cut to the chase, Nara."
"One, we can release the prisoner without obtaining anything. Not the most ideal outcome. Two, you can approve a full interrogation and say to hell with moral repercussions. Again, not ideal. Or three," Shikamaru paused, leaning forward and bracing his weight on his knees, "we can employ some creative tactics."
"Creative tactics?" asked Shizune, confusion creasing her brows.
"Yeah. This guy is scared, feels like he doesn't have a friend in the world right now, and he's at an easily manipulated age. You'd think he'd spill his guts, but he didn't. Surprised the hell out of the interrogation team with his defiance. I noticed something, though." Shikamaru smirked, his tired eyes sharp and bright. "When it was Anko's turn with him, she got in his face. Normally it works with civilians, has them pissing their pants; the woman's damn intimidating. But this kid, he blushed."
"You want to let Anko have another go?" Tsunade frowned, fingers curling into a fist. "Ibiki could've already issued that order. Stop wasting my time."
"Anko already tried, with no results. She lacks the delicacy needed for the job. We need someone who can befriend the kid, not a–"
"A dominatrix?"
"I'm going to pretend I never heard that, Shizune." Tsunade half-grinned at her assistant, then turned back to Shikamaru. "Delicacy, huh? Got someone in mind for the job?"
Shikamaru slumped backwards in the chair, arms behind his head. "My old teammate's not out on a mission, is she?"
{ oOo }
Ino woke up in the wee hours of the morning, just as the moon had finally given up to the sun, somehow unable to sleep a moment longer. Something had been gnawing at her all night. She slept fitfully, in a constant state of motion and restlessness, as if she were running from something. Or someone.
Or perhaps she was running to someone instead?
Now that she was fully awake, though, she couldn't recollect even the smallest detail from her dream. Yet she felt its lingering effects: the erratic pounding of her heart and a deep sense of longing. Some form of nostalgia, heavy with melancholy and hope, tugged at her insides, and she exhaled a wistful sigh. It was strange, being so affected by something she couldn't remember. She'd rarely felt so disconcerted in all her life.
A change of scenery, Ino decided, was exactly what the situation called for. There was no sense in dwelling on things she could do nothing about. Experience had taught her that it was a unproductive pursuit, one that usually ended in her nursing a migraine. Ino preferred action over introspection anyway, so she took a deep breath, made a plan, and prepared for the day.
Chouji had surprised her last night. It was only fair that she return the favor.
So Ino exited her apartment just after seven, dressed in a sweet lavender sundress and her hair falling loose down her back as she made her way to the Akimichi family grounds. The sultry summer wind whipped about, tugging at her hemline and threading through her hair. With one hand firmly curled into the soft fabric, holding it down lest a gust expose her undergarments, and the other trying in vain to keep her golden strands out of her face, she made her way to Chouji's cottage. It made her miss her work clothes – the practicality of her tactical gear or the comfort of her form-fitting seduction wardrobe – and the ease of her ponytail.
Damn her stupid heart.
Damn Chouji for suddenly being so damned transparent.
She saw his expression when she answered the door last night, the way his gaze lingered on her hair as she flipped it over her shoulder. How he stared just a little too long at her legs in her pajama shorts, the ones she rarely wore because they were covered in piglets and cupcakes and who the hell would expect The Mistress would wear something so childish, and then he promptly looked at the ground when she caught him. The surprise and admiration – the attraction – had been more than clear in his eyes. Chouji had seen her without all her pretense, stripped of the all the glamour and mystery that made her The Mistress, and he had liked it.
And, dammit, she really wanted to see that look again.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
When she arrived on Chouji's doorstep, Ino forced herself to knock before she could chicken out. Suddenly, everything about this spontaneous trip felt wrong. Like she was wrong. Damn, she shouldn't be dragging him into her stupid, complicated life any more than he already was. She almost ran away, but then Chouji opened the door and his lips broke out into a wide, beaming smile.
Yeah, she thought, that's the look.
He was fully clothed in his civilian clothes, jeans and a button-down top, like he had been expecting her all along. "Hey, I was just about to head over to your place. You know, to see if you needed any help with the party?"
Ino leaned gracefully against the door jamb, a bright smile lighting up her face as well, relieved that he had the same ideas for the day that she had. The guilt that had begun to coil in her belly released, leaving her feeling almost light-headed. "Funny you say that. That's exactly why I'm here."
"Really?" he asked, and Ino couldn't decide if what she heard in his voice was sarcasm or hope.
"Yep. I was hoping you'd help me out with the menu. Nobody has as excellent taste as you do for these kinds of things." Ino laid the charm on a little thick as she voiced her request, just in case he had any hesitation about joining her. "It would really put my mind at ease."
Ino soon realized the effort wasn't needed, however, as Chouji chuckled and admitted, "I was going help even before the flattery."
{ oOo }
They walked back from the store in comfortable silence, Chouji slightly behind, hands full of groceries and admiring Ino's shapely silhouette. It'd been a productive morning and, to his pleasant surprise, strangely domestic.
Together, they'd created a menu that would accommodate Sakura's request for a light, healthy dinner – no carbs, please; seriously, Ino, they go straight to my ass – with Anko's repeated demands for red meat – there'd better be steak at this shindig or, so help me, I'll be tempted to gut you in your sleep – and worked out a grocery list before heading out.
At the store, he'd pushed the cart while they discussed which ingredients would work best and how to pick out the freshest produce. He learned that Ino was a frugal shopper, her nose wrinkling adorably as she worked out which cuts of meat were the better deal, and that she even though hated onions, she made herself eat them. When he asked her why she'd force herself to do something she hated, Ino flippantly answered, "Picky eaters are unattractive, I'm told." He'd laughed at that, a hearty chuckle so full his eyes squished shut, and Ino patted his forearm in response. It'd been the most casual of touches, but his heart soared.
"Hey, give me the keys." Ino turned to him, holding out her palm. "I'll open the door for us."
"Okay, just give me–" Chouji gave Ino a sheepish look, trying to figure out how to reach his keys. After a few seconds of unfruitful fidgeting, he tried to transfer all the bags to one hand. "Shit, I don't think I can– Dammit, these things are heavy." He tried one more time, but almost dropped everything and decided it was a bad idea. He tilted his head back, staring at the clouds for a moment, and let out a frustrated huff. "Do you think you can get them yourself? They're just in my front pocket."
Chouji watched as Ino paled and then, a mere second later, turned a horrible shade of purple-red.
"Who the hell do you think you are? I never thought– " She looked away, clenching her fists. Her voice, hushed and hard, bit into him like sandpaper and her expression was as cold as ice. "No, I am not reaching in your pocket to find your fucking 'keys'." Ino's fingers moved in vicious, sharp curls, her air-quote motion wounding him as easily as if she'd thrown a kunai. "Yeah, I'm in special ops. But that does not mean you can proposition me."
Her chin trembled, but her stance stood firm.
It broke his fucking heart.
"Kami, I'm an ass." Chouji shook his head, his lips a thin line of self-deprecation. "I deserved that. And I definitely could have phrased my suggestion better. I didn't mean– I would never– I just... Damn, this is hard with you looking at me like that." Chouji rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck as best he could with his hands still occupied. "Just… Look, okay?" He jutted his chin out, motioning to his hip. "The key fob is sticking out of my pocket. No indecent proposal, I promise. You can grab it without even touching me."
"Chouji. I–"
Ino canted her head to the left slightly, her blue eyes watery as she held his gaze. She walked up to him slowly, step by step, then grabbed the keys and unlocked the door, holding it open for him. After he set the groceries down in the kitchen, he looked around, expecting her to be in the room with him. He thought for sure she'd follow him to help put the stuff away. But she wasn't there. He found her still in the living room. In fact, it looked like she hadn't moved since she closed the door; her back was to the room, her hand still on the handle.
"I'm sorry," she said, still facing the door. He heard her take a deep, shuddering breath as he walked towards her. "I don't why I thought you of all people–"
"Hey." Chouji hesitated just behind her, not knowing what to do. But then she sniffled and he was gone, moving on instinct. He laid his hand on the crown of her head, his thumb brushing over and through her hair. "Hey, seriously. Don't worry about it. If I dealt with as many perverts as you do on a regular basis, I'm sure I'd react the same way." He rested his head against the side of hers and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry for being insensitive."
Ino turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head in his chest. "You're too good for me."
Chouji tensed in her hold, disbelief coursing through every cell in his body. Did she really think that? There was no way that could be true. Everyone knew she was out of his league. Seriously, everyone knew. He moved his hand from the top of her head to lift her chin and studied her expression. It was open and honest, in way that he hadn't seen on her since they were kids, and full of something like guilt. For the second time in a day, Ino broke his fucking heart.
"Don't say that," he said, soft and gentle, like a barely whispered prayer.
Ino's mouth opened slightly, as if she were surprised by his response. Then she nodded and released him, walking towards the kitchen. "Well, we have a lot we need to do today, so we should just..."
"Get to it." Chouji rocked back onto his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. If she wanted to pretend the whole situation never happened, he'd follow her lead. He was the asshole who shoved his foot in his mouth, after all. "Yep. So..."
"So we need to– well, let's see." Ino tucked her hair behind her ears and surveyed the bags on the floor. "We need to put the food away here. Then we need to go to my place to decide the best furniture and lighting arrangement. We also need to plan out the party activities and decide what we're going to wear."
"Okay, give me a minute to put the food away and we'll head to your place."
"Thanks."
Ino flopped onto his couch with a flourish, elegant in a way that only she could be capable of, and Chouji escaped to the kitchen. In the middle of organizing his vegetable drawer so the new items would fit, his doorbell rang. After a short pause, it rang again, repeatedly, almost as if someone were just holding their finger down on the button
"I'll get it, Chouji," Ino called back to the kitchen.
He was already on his way to the door, though, so he followed her as she muttered several colorful curses under her breath. She was every bit as surprised as he was to see Kakashi at the door, one hand on the buzzer and the other holding up a rather tattered looking book in which he was too engrossed to even bother looking up at them.
Ino swatted the hand on the doorbell. "What the hell do you want, Kakashi?"
"The hokage wants to see us. And by us, I mean you and me. Not him. Let's go." With that, he turned and lazily walked away. "Oh, and don't change. What you're wearing is perfect."
"What the hell was that?"
"Apparently, the hokage wants to see me and what I'm wearing? I don't know. That man is so cryptic sometimes." Ino cupped a hand around his elbow and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll stop by after I see what Lady Tsunade needs. See you later."
"Yeah, okay." Chouji shuffled his feet, looking down, as Ino brushed past him. As he watched her descend the steps of his porch, he called out, "Ino, wait!" When she turned around, he asked, "Are we good?"
"Yeah... Yeah, of course. We're good."
Then she was gone, chasing after Kakashi.
Chouji watched her until she was out of sight, wondering why her voice suddenly sounded so strange to his ears.
{ oOo }
"So… Chouji, huh? Wouldn't have pegged him for your type, but–"
"It's none of your business," Ino snapped.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the irritation settling in as an ache at the base of her neck. It would do her no good on this mission, especially since she couldn't even figure out what exactly was bothering her. Maybe it was the the fact that she was high-tailing it down to a prisoner's cell in flimsy five-inch heels. The shoes hadn't been a problem while she was leisurely walking around town with Chouji, but they were killing her feet now. Of course, it could just be Kakashi's presence.
"Stop leering at me." She infused her glare with as much disapproval as she could. Unfortunately, her mentor seemed completely unfazed. "It's gross. You'd think you've never seen someone in a lab coat before."
"Hey, I'm just making small talk here. No need to bite my head off." The older man continued stare at Ino as they made their way down a long sterile corridor. "Besides, you should be flattered. You are every bit the naughty nurse in that outfit. Really, just check out page 39."
Ino shoved the book back in his face. "Doctor. I'm a doctor, not a nurse."
"Whatever. The image is perfect." The sound of the turning of a page added to the sharp clip-clop of her shoes. "Can we slow down? It's hard to read when I have to walk so fast."
"No."
"It's not like the prisoner is going anywhere."
Ino decided it was best to ignore Kakashi's verbal prodding, flipped her hair and proceeded on her path.
"Oh, I see. Your hot date with Chouji got interrupted. Don't feel bad. Once he sees you in that getup–"
Ino stopped Kakashi mid-sentence by introducing his face to the concrete wall, one of his arms pinned sharply behind his back and the chakra-enforced weight of her body flattening his out against the hard surface. That she had managed to get past his defenses was quite disconcerting for him, if the shock in his eyes was anything to go by. But her anger didn't let her revel in her victory; she still had a point to make.
"Listen here, old man, I was not and I am not going to be having a 'hot date' with anyone. That includes Chouji, got it?" He held his hands up in surrender and she released him. "I. Don't. Date."
"Fine. Be in denial." Kakashi rubbed the wrist she'd manhandled. "But we both know there's no reason you can't date. Just your own damn hang-ups."
"Must be prisoner cell 127." Ino pointed to the Anbu in a few paces down the hall, redirecting their attention to the mission at hand. She'd been the focus of the conversation long enough. "That's us, so if you're ready to quit being a pain in the ass–" Ino sighed, giving up. Kakashi had his nose back in his book, leaving her little to gripe about. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."
"We've got from here, guys." Kakashi dismissed the guards, donning his old ANBU mask. "You ready, Doctor Yamanaka?"
Ino paused outside the entrance, taking a brief moment to smooth out her mussed hair, adjust her clothing properly, and put on her best professional face. A slight incline of her head signaled to Kakashi that she was ready and he opened the door, leading her in.
The prisoner was sitting in the farthest corner of the room, knees curled into to his chest, knuckles white from the death grip he had around his legs. His dark eyes, barely visible under his equally dark, unkempt fringe, were glazed over slightly. He looked as if he had been on alert so long that his brain had just shut off, showing marked signs of sleep deprivation. There was no doubt in Ino's mind that this kid had just been waiting for the worse case scenario. But the pity she felt for the guy was overshadowed by her need to take advantage of his mental state.
She could show all the compassion she wanted after the deed was done.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Yamanaka. I've been sent here to check you for injuries and help you in any way that I can. Do you think you could move to your bed? It would be a lot easier to examine you there, rather than on this cold floor."
Ino held out her hand, infusing all the goodwill that she possessed into that gesture and her eyes reinforcing the kindness and help that was her purport. The young man gazed up at her, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. His reason, it appeared, muddled from trauma and little sleep, tried desperately to understand why someone like her would be in his cold cell. It took several attempts, but Ino's words finally made their way into a coherent mind and the prisoner seated himself on the thin, lumpy padding that passed for a bed in this part of the tower.
He still adamantly refused Ino's hand and all other forms of physical help she attempted to offer.
"I'm going to administer a physical exam, plus a chakra scan to check for internal injuries. I need you to remove your shirt and pants." Detached authority, learned from studying Tsunade's bedside manner with difficult patients, infused Ino's voice. She was in charge here and the sooner her mark realized that, the better. Of course, Ino knew it wouldn't be that easy. The guy was looking at her like she had just asked him to jump off a bridge or sacrifice his firstborn.
"Oh, of course. I apologize for being so inconsiderate." Ino turned her back to the patient and addressed her partner, giving him a meaningful wink. "Guard, you'll need to leave for this part of the examination."
"I'll be right outside if he gives you any problems."
Even with Kakashi gone, the prisoner made no move to remove his clothing. Ino studied his expression carefully, noting the faint pink dusting his pale cheeks. She pressed her lips tightly together to keep the grin from forming on her face. This was going to be too easy.
"You have been seen by a doctor before, haven't you? You should know I can't properly check for injuries with your clothes on."
All he did was stare– first at her, then at the floor.
"Look, I'm not some big, bad shinobi out to get you." His grip on the mattress under him tightened as he dug his metaphorical heels in, so she tried a different tactic. "I'm scared of them too, you know… Look, I'm just a civilian doctor and I have a job to do. So I'm–" Ino sighed, wringing her hands. "I'm sorry, but if you're not going to take them off, I'll have to do it for you."
She sat down on the bed next to him, slowly reaching for the buttons on his shirt. Suddenly, his eyes found hers, big as saucers, and his every muscle froze in place. When her fingers curled around the first button, the one nearest his collarbone, he flinched slightly and hung his head, trying to hide the growing flush of his cheeks.
"I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help. But you have to let me or we'll both be in trouble."
Ino moved to the second button, lightly grazing his partially exposed chest with the back of her hand. She felt his breath hitch as she worked her way down to the next one. She popped the button out of its place, his shirt falling open farther, and his head lolled to the side, his eyes shut as he exhaled heavily. His reactions to her were so delicious they sent tingles down her spine.
"You know, this would probably be a lot easier on both of us if I knew your name."
Moving down to the fourth button, Ino bent forward, more than what was strictly necessary, and the lavender dress shifted to present an impressive amount of cleavage. The change in view visibly flustered the young man. His fingers twitched, curling and uncurling around the fabric of the mattress, and his gaze trailed across the room in erratic patterns as he tried to avoid staring at her chest. It pleased Ino to note that he was largely unsuccessful.
She had almost reached the fifth and final button, conveniently positioned in the young man's lap, when he finally found the self-control to clear his throat.
"Ummm... thank you. I– I'll do the rest." His voice was soft and deep, full of an adorable, awkward sort of hesitance. "I'm Kino."
"Hello, Kino," Ino said, a soft smile on her lips.
She slowly released her grip on his shirt, maintaining eye contact with Kino as she did so, and stood up. He removed his shirt and, after another brief moment of hesitation, his pants and dropped them both on the floor. Ino stepped around the clothing and into his personal space, surveying his body for external injuries. A light touch of her fingers here and there had him changing positions so she could check him thoroughly. Other than some bruising around his wrists, he seemed fine. She applied a small amount of chakra to contusions to ease any pain. It was a small, unnecessary detail, but one that would lend credence to her cover story.
"Please lie down on your back with your arms at your sides. I'll do the chakra scan now."
With a little help from her hand on his chest Kino obeyed, though he looked far from comfortable. "Sorry, it's just… well, I've never had a chakra scan before."
"You won't feel a thing, I promise." Ino gave him her best smile of reassurance, squeezing his hand.
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."
Ino chuckled, light and feminine, and said, "Don't worry. I'll keep you distracted. Okay?"
Kino gulped. "Okay."
The pale green glow of Ino's scanning chakra lit up her hands and she waited for him to indicate that he was ready. He nodded. Ino slowly passed her chakra down one side of his body, section by section, starting from the top of his head. The faint light illuminated the definition of his masculine frame. Kino was fit, all lean muscle and smooth skin, and the sight gave her inspiration for experiences she would later implant. "How old are you, Kino?"
"I turned sixteen last month." This time there was confidence he answered, and the slightest hint of flirtation. "According to my village's customs, I'm an adult now."
"Congratulations!" Ino crossed to the other side of the bed, so she could scan his other half. "We don't really have a tradition like that here. Oh, but I was sixteen when I got my first boyfriend! Kami, he was gorgeous." She shifted her gaze to the left, coyly avoiding his face. "Looked a bit like you actually."
His cheeks flushed red again, though she suspected this time it was with something other than embarrassment. She moved her hands farther up, brushing ever so slightly over Kino's thighs, and came to a stop over his hips. With wistful look of longing in her eyes, she pretended to be caught in the reverie of her former boyfriend. She sighed, as if distracted by regrets, and let her hands come to rest on Kino's stomach.
"What happened?"
Ino started when he spoke, then shrugged as she continued her scan. "Oh, nothing really. His folks moved to a different village and he had to go with them. I just wish… Never mind." Ino finished and held out her hand to Kino, supporting him as he sat up. "What about you? Do you have girlfriend?"
The question, through Ino's skillful articulation and chakra enhanced pheromones, was transformed from innocent inquiry to an unspoken proposition.
Kino gravitated closer to Ino as if some outside force was pulling him into her space, his body suddenly alight with hormones and the logical side of his brain suppressed. This was her favorite part of the job, that precipice that she'd push her victims to, that point where their desire for her so filled their senses that she was the only thing they could see. It was a strange kind of intimacy, and lacking most other forms of it in her life, she craved it. The power. The control. The lust.
Kino was so close. She had him. He had but to say one word to clinch the deal.
"No."
The answer came as a breath in her ear, her jutsu making Kino bold and careless and everything that Ino wanted at that exact moment. Right now, she was no longer Ino. She was The Mistress, and The Mistress wanted that kiss, that adrenaline, that seductive fantasy every bit as much as the man she was romancing, even knowing that it wouldn't be real. She pressed him against the bed frame, the whole of her body in contact with the whole of his, their heat and hunger and arousal intermingling. It was time for the kill.
"Good. Kiss me."
{ oOo }
A least an hour passed before the light tap-tap of Ino's knock signaled to Kakashi that her unique interrogation was done. The open door exposed a flushed, slightly mussed Ino, a triumphant deity of beauty and trickery. For Kakashi, it was a proud moment. He had truly taught her well, if the look on the prisoner's sleeping face could be used as witness.
In contrast, Ino's expression was grim. "I need to report to Tsunade."
{ oOo }
"Were you successful?"
"Yes, Lady Hokage." Ino inhaled deeply, the hustle up to the Hokage's office and the rush of her previous exploits having left her breathless.
"Well? Details! I need details!" Tsunade was in no mood to wait around, though. She pounded her fist on her desk for emphasis and the wood creaked in protest. "What did you find running around in that head of his?"
"He definitely saw something." Ino sat down, grateful to get off her feet. "Kino – that's his name – he ran across a small cave… or tunnel, maybe? I don't know; there was something unnatural about it. He seemed like he was familiar with the area, but he mumbled something to himself about it not belonging."
"You think it was created by a jutsu?"
"Probably." Ino nodded. "Kino walked part way into it, but heard some voices approaching and hid in the shadows of a boulder. I think there were two men, if the size and shape of their silhouettes were anything to go by. One told the other to make sure that all the villagers came to his party if he wanted to be paid. Kino didn't recognize the voice, but I did." Ino leaned forward and looked Tsunade directly in the eyes. "It was Sasuke."
"Are you sure?" The hokage pinned her with a doubtful look.
"Yes."
"I see." Tsunade's expression visibly hardened. "Was that all?"
"No." Ino shook her head. "The next day a rich merchant came to town. He wanted to hire some of the men for a job at his estate and when they agreed, he threw a thank you party for the whole village. Kino was suspicious after what he heard, so he hid instead of attending the party."
"He didn't try to warn anybody?" Shizune asked, her expression skeptical. "That seems–"
"I don't think he had anyone to tell. It didn't seem like he was particularly close to anyone. I don't think he even has any family."
"As sad as it is, his sob story has no bearing on the state of our village." Tsunade waved her hand dismissively. "Stick to what's relevant."
"Yes, Lady Hokage," Ino said, recalling where she'd been in her explanation. "Nothing unusual happened at the party. It wasn't until the next night, around dusk, that the villagers and the merchant started lighting fires. Kino tried to stop them, but they didn't respond to anything he said or did. It was like he wasn't even there. He got scared and ran into the forest, where Chouji found him. I'm pretty sure he was the only one who didn't go to that party."
"And he's the only one that didn't lose his memory," Kakashi added. "I can personally vouch for that, since I had to process all the surviving villagers."
"That means that something at that party was tainted. Unfortunately, the fires destroyed everything so we won't have any samples we can test." Tsunade rubbed her forehead, trying to smooth the worry lines beginning to take up residence there. She was too tired to fix her henge now, though. It would have to wait until later. "It's more information than we had before, though. Well done, Ino."
{ oOo }
Ino's high was more or less gone as she left the Hokage's tower.
Left in its place was overwhelming fatigue and a gnawing, empty feeling. She decided to head straight home. There she would be able to rest and reflect, maybe find something edible in the fridge. It seemed like forever since she had eaten breakfast. She'd only had a light meal, a banana with a glass of milk, fully expecting to go out to lunch somewhere with Chouji.
Dammit.
Ino felt sick. In the thrill of the mission, she had forgotten about their plans – about him – his very existence overridden by her need to control, by her insatiable lust. A flood of memories ran through her mind, accompanied by a myriad of emotions that left her feeling gut-punched.
His smile when she passed her genin exam.
His pale, thin body in the hospital.
Team meals at Ichiraku's.
Post-mission reunions.
The feel of his hands around her waist as he twirled her around her kitchen.
The soft reverence in his voice this afternoon.
His loyalty.
His friendship.
Somehow, somewhere deep inside her, despite the fact that it made absolutely no sense, Ino knew that she had betrayed those memories today. Just like she knew the only way she would ever be comfortable again would be to purge herself of either her conscience or her guilt. She felt the truth of it in the shallow depths of her soul.
Ino ran the rest of the way home, throwing open her door and rushing to her bathroom.
Her stomach, unused to being tossed about by the force of such churning emotions, decided that guilt was too difficult a pill to swallow.