Disclaimer: BOOHISS.
Dedication: To Sonya and Les, for being the sexy betches that you are. ;D
Notes1: ALL OF YOU READING THIS; GO READ OUR COLLABFIC OF EPIC WIN. It's reachable through my profile. Please. I'll love you.
Notes2: the reason I am concentrating so thoroughly on Temari and Ino: because this world affects the two of them the worst. Also because I love KibaIno so much it's probably unhealthy.
Notes3: This was fail. I apologize for taking so long.
---
The Chronometer whirred, a metallic clicking filling the ears of the four men who heard it. Dressed in travel cloaks, and easily-ignored clothing, the four boys only managed to look at each other for a second. Then they were pulled into a vortex of cold wind and utter blackness.
For a single, terrifying second, Sasuke thought he had, perhaps, died.
But the dark travelling cloaks whispered movement as the dust settled around the group.
Sasuke stood slowly – it took him what seemed like forever to reach his full height. He looked around, his eyes slowly taking in the details of this new place. Suigetsu and Naruto –idiots, the both of them– were sprawled out on the floor. Neji, too, had risen, and Sasuke stared at him.
All was quiet for a moment, and then – "Uh… How did you guys get in here?"
Sasuke whipped around, and came face-to-face with a boy who looked to be almost his exact same age – the messy dark brown hair and bright eyes indicated something like intelligence.
The five men simply stared at each other. The silence was oppressive, before the man sighed. "Look, whatever, it doesn't matter how you got in. You look lost. Want to get something to eat?"
Naruto's stomach rumbled loudly.
The man grinned. "Thought so. Name's Kiba. C'mon."
---
The rented place was silent as Hinata –carrying finally-clean laundry in her arms– slipped in the doorway, a smugly satisfied, armed-to-the-teeth Tenten behind her. It was a languid silence, built on the decaying bridges of too many chances and not enough time.
A lethargic Sakura looked up from the concrete floor, and stared at Hinata through slumber-bleary eyes. She mumbled "Wha–'s goin' on…?"
Hinata knelt down next to the still-sleepy Princess. She smiled, and murmured "Mi'lady, we ought to get ready to go. Ino will be back soon – I think Temari went to find her, using – using something. Tenten is here, and you cousin is still asleep."
"Nnghn… Hina, I wan'a go home…"
"I know, Sakura, I know. But we – we can't."
"But… Hina-a…"
"We can't, and you know it. And I'm ashamed that you would even want to return. Your mother would never forgive you."
That sentence woke the Princess up, rather better than anything else Hinata had said. Sakura sat up ramrod straight, her green-green eyes blazing fire and seething anger.
"How can you even say that?!" Sakura hissed. Her fingers dug into the sheets, and Hinata was not surprised to see that the Princess was shaking. Of course something like that would set Sakura off.
Hinata shook her head gently. "Because it's true, and you know that. Now get up."
Sakura shivered, a little. The concrete walls and floor leeched the heat from the room on a consistent basis. The Princess stood slowly, one of the blankets wrapped around her shoulders, her face carefully blank. It was silent in the little room, as they waited for the Lady's reaction.
She took a shuddering breath, and nodded slowly. This was not the time to be a child; this was the time to pack, and to mentally prepare for the horribly disorienting feeling that came with world travelling. Now was the time to lay low, and to stay hidden safely away.
Hinata stared at her Lady. The resolve that Sakura was infamous for was back - Hinata could see that ice cold spine of steel that had, for so long, forestalled most proposals of marriage.
Sakura quietly looked around at all her Ladies. There was an odd humming in the air; pent-up tension hung thick like curtains.
It was time to go.
---
Ino was flying, long wheat-blonde hair waving in the air behind her like a golden curtain. As she dodged around the various not-people, she could feel fingers catching in the gold wave – she winced every time she felt them.
Ino had never liked being touched by those she did not know. She especially did not like being touched when upset.
Temari, Temari, where did Temari say she was going to wait for me…? Ino thought to herself.
Ino paused in one of the many sharp-cut pedestrian squares – a little used faction, now, with spark bikes, glitter carriages and the Light Train being so much faster. In the middle of the square, there was a fountain.
Devoid of liquid, there were crystal-sparks of energy running in place of water. Ino stood there, and watched them, transfixed by the razzle-dazzle rainbow of colours.
Temari stood behind her for what felt like a hundred thousands seconds (sixteen hundred, sixty seven minutes; twenty-seven and two thirds of an hour– how did she know that, again?), and quietly murmured "Ino, c'mon. Lady Sakura is waiting. It's time to go."
Ino's back was still turned. "But not home. Home doesn't really… exist for us, anymore, does it, Tema?"
"Not really," Temari smiled sadly.
Ino's shoulders tensed; her fingers clenched into fists. "I – I could have stayed here, Temari. I could have–" she broke off with a strangled half-sob.
It was quiet. Temari understood. Ino had always been the one to give her heart, fast and free. Of course, Ino was not the type to stay in love long – her love came fast and easy, but was true to the bone.
Temari jerked her head mechanically. "Let's go, friend of mine."
The two blonde girls linked arms in that way that old friends seem to have, and easily got lost in the crowd of anti-beings rushing past.
---
"Hey, Ino, are you still-?" Kiba's voice resounded through the house.
It was silent as a grave.
The kitchen light swung tauntingly, casting a blurred, waxy yellow glow to the rickety wooden chairs. Everything not built in metal and light was rickety in SyberSity. Sometimes it made Kiba tired.
The four floaters followed the tall, almost-grown brunette man into the tiny kitchen, and crowded around the kitchen table.
There was single piece of paper sitting on the middle of the table. Kiba reached for it, his fingers shaking. He didn't want to read it. He didn't need to; he already knew she was gone.
Dear Kiba,
I'm sorry to have left so quickly. Thank you so much, for everything. I'm leaving tonight, and I won't see you again, ever. Please don't look for me.
I'm so sorry,
Ino
The paper was crinkled and there were odd, wet marks on it, reminiscent of tears. Kiba's head whipped up wildly – she couldn't have been gone long; couldn't have gone far; couldn't have–
"Hell," he murmured. He had company.
"Ino?" a voice asked. It was the dark-haired one; the black and white one, Kiba thought. He nodded, and the man turned to look at the other three floaters.
"You don't think-?" The white-haired one mused.
The blond one –Chrome, he almost looked like Ino's older brother or something– grinned and said "I'm Naruto. This Ino of yours… she wouldn't happen to be blonde, blue-eyed, tall, and gorgeous… would she?"
Kiba's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you want to know?"
The other man –Naruto– continued to grin genially. "Because we're looking for her – her, and that princess. Haven't seen them, have you?"
"Princess? Hell no."
The other brunette in the room picked up the piece of paper, and studied the handwriting for a moment or two.
"That is the Lady Ino's writing, Uchiha."
It was the white-haired one who muttered "M' Suigetsu. Cough it up, man. We're trying to keep her alive, in case you didn't know."
Kiba stared at him. There wasn't a lie on him – and Kiba knew the scent of lies.
All was still as the five men stared each other down. At last, Kiba grumbled "Fine. Just… Chrome, I have – no idea where she might be. She only made a call–"
The call. He could track the call. Hell, Chrome would have a fit; the socially awkward supercomputer was big on privacy and shit, but this was – was an emergency, and if he didn't find her–
"You're not screwing around with me, are you?" Kiba asked slowly.
Naruto shrugged, the grin still fixed in place – he looked pained. "We don't screw around, man. Not about this."
Kiba ran a hand through his hair. The voicepod glimmered dully. It was just hanging there.
He reached for it, and punched in the speed dial number for his most anti-social old friend.
"Hey, Shikamaru… I need a favour."
---
Temari's body felt like it was moving through lead. Part of her (a not-Temari-part; a Chrome-part) was not used to moving at this slow, human speed.
That part was quirking through a series of quadratic equations for the fun of it. Temari's brain had never worked like that before.
So she was a little bit panicked. Ino, walking tiredly beside her, noticed nothing. Temari's stone-face kept her safe yet again.
She could feel the little links that made up Chrome's mainframe – the lightning fast chain mail was invading every bit of intellectual space Temari had ever, in her life had.
Temari realized that she was seeing double. Not good.
And the streets were singing with information. The asphalt –that's what it was called, Temari thought, no respite for the damned– was built on a series of lines that Temari was only beginning to see now. She looked up, and traced the lines of information up through the metal beams that supported this odd-light world, to the dusk-coloured glow from the blanket that hid the sky.
Something fluttered behind Temari's eyelids. It felt – dirty. It was like something was crawling beneath her skin. Dirty, but unattached.
And then the rage came – hot, angry, boiling, hissing and spitting, screaming hatred. But, it too, was emotionally unattached. It wasn't hers.
Temari had nothing to be angry about. She looked at her hands – the nails were worn and ragged. It reminded her a little of home; she had never had the time to preen and make herself beautiful the way Ino had loved to, or Sakura had to consistently be.
Temari knew then that this was Chrome's rage – rage at being invaded. That was what the crawling, dirty feeling was. Someone or something was hacking through Chrome's records.
And the supercomputer really did not like that, from what Temari could tell.
The rage did not subside –turning to a wildfire in Temari's head– as Chrome was forcefully trying to burn the hacker (hackers; crackers; phreak-outs; cypherpunks; netrunners; ravechildren; zippies; extropians; get out of my system before I destroy thee–) out of her mainframe system.
The rage turned to deep-seated hatred, and turned to a pounding bass-beat in Temari's mind.
The bass-beat turned to one of the worst head-ache Temari had ever had in her life (Morgana, this happened a lot in this horrible, horrible world). The pounding in her head thudded like a heart-beat. She placed a hand to her forehead, and shot a doubled-up glance at Ino. Oh hell, heaven, Morgana and Merlin, why?
She stumbled a little.
"Tema?" Ino's voice resounded from far, far away.
"I – I'm fine. Let's just… get back. Lady Sakura needs us."
"And you need some sustenance, weirdo," Ino told her frankly, and more or less pulled her along the rest of the way. Temari's mind was clouded over with streams of ridiculously angry bites of information (Chrome was still raging at whatever it was that was hacking through the layers of firewalls so meticulously installed in her central processing unit), and she noticed very little of the rest of the walk home.
So absorbed was Temari in stopping the pain, she did not notice what files the hackers (cracker, little one, it is a cracker, this being belongs to the darker side of this world, Chrome hissed in her ear) were after.
She did not hear the quiet phone conversation held over a private line; a private line not connected to Chrome's general processor.
---
"Do you have it?"
"Shaddup, Mutt. I'm better then that – crap, Chrome's not happy, dude, you owe me. Cracking her firewalls is taking everything I've got. If this fucking crashes…"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll owe you forever. I don't care. Where did that call link to?"
"'M sending you the coordinates now. This is troublesome."
"Are you coming?"
"Might as well. Something's got you pissed off."
"…Screw you. See you in five."
The line clicked off, and a brunette boy with wild hair and wild eyes waited in sick yellow light for the coordinates to print themselves off the voicepod.
---
Sakura was still wrapped in the thin blanket when Ino dragged an almost-comatose Temari in through the door.
"Guys?" she murmured, eyes half-lidded.
"We're back, Sak-ura…" Ino murmured back, and collapsed at the front door.
Hinata took charge then, her mouth set in a grim line. "Come along, Ladies. Help me finish packing. We leave in a quarter of an hour. Temari…?"
Temari's honey-gravel voice filled the room, softer then the quietest sigh; softer then the softest down. "I'll… I will be fine. Give me… a little while."
The room returned to silence after that.
Then there was a flurry of movement, as the few mobile girls in the room rushed to do as they were told. Sakura went to where Temari was splayed liked a ragdoll, and very carefully sat down next to her friend.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
"Yes, mi'lady," Temari breathed.
"Not a lady anymore." Sakura whispered. Over the shuffling noise made by the other girls, Sakura's voice was lost. Her face was left to a neutral mask, and she helped Ino pull Temari towards the center of the room.
The Chronometer would need space to function properly – perhaps zapping them all in such an enclosed space the first time had been the issue.
But perhaps not.
Sakura's fingers closed around the cold metal of the Chronometer. It was always so very cold – leeched the heat out of anything and everything living that touched it. Sakura shivered a little, and gingerly handed it to Temari, half-asleep in the middle of the floor.
It was like all the life returned to Temari as soon as she touched it. Her eyes lit up, her face flushed, and she up without further ado.
It was eerie, and it was all Sakura could do not to shiver again.
The room was a flurry of activity for the next five minutes. But soon, the bags were packed, the pretty-Ino-clothes were put away, the travelling cloaks were out, and they were, oddly enough, ready to leave. The lights were off, and it was very, very silent – a bone-deep tiredness left by what Temari knew must be culture shock.
The five girls sat in a semi-circle around Temari, and waited for her to click open the Chronometer.
It was different now, Temari supposed. The Chronometer reacted to her thoughts – not her touch. It was… more then a little odd. But she did not question it. Perhaps it was better to simply allow things to exist as they were.
"Time to go…" Karin murmured dryly, even as the oddly familiar-yet-entirely-alien wind whipped up; it was curdled in the warm blue light.
Hinata could feel the wind turn fierce – it had done this last time.
Be strong, Hinata. They need you to be strong when things fall apart, she told herself firmly. It was almost exactly the same – the insane wind, the comforting light, the–
"Sixty-four seconds…" the sedate, honey-gravel voice murmured.
What was not the same was the thud of boots. It sounded like someone was… outside the door. Hinata's head shot up, and her eyes widened in terror. She whisper-screamed "Temari, hurry!"
"Thirty-seven seconds…"
The other girls were looking in the direction of the door now – they had all heard the commotion and the sound of voices. They all were staring at each other fearfully.
"They're in there, I know it!" a voice growled.
It was dead silent in the room, even as the wind swirled around the six Ladies, violent and uncontrollable.
"Twelve seconds…"
"The door–!"
"Eight seconds…"
The door slammed open, and six men stood in the doorway. Ino's eyes landed on Kiba, his gaze frantic.
"I'M SORR–!"
Her scream was cut off like leaves off a tree with a pair of shears as the six girls were stolen away.