Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it… if I did, I probably wouldn't be sitting in front of a computer screen writing fanfictions, now would I? Lols, Naruto © Kishimoto.

And heads up this is another pretty long chapter… Heh, I'm so sorry for unloading so much text on you guys as of recent… hopefully I'll be back to posting like regular length chapters soon… I really need to plan better D:

CH 10

-Art-

—wasn't for you, everything—

Ino blinked multiple times feeling rather bewildered. All thoughts of last night's meeting with the Sabaku flown from her mind. Ino, however, couldn't tell if she was grateful for this distraction or not. Well… a distraction was a distraction, she decided, no matter how improper. Ino moved aside the papers covering the words etched into the table.

Fucking bitch. If it wasn't for you, everything would be fine.

Her stomach dropped. What? Was that meant for her? The blonde frowned with obvious discomfort, before setting her bag down gingerly beside the large table, conveniently located in the top left corner of the room. She took her seat and furrowed her brow in confusion. The etching was new. There was no doubt in her mind that this… message wasn't here yesterday, and the detail had given her a rather nasty suspicion that it was meant for her eyes. Ino tried to shake the feeling—not that reading, and rereading the words without end, had helped at all—but it didn't make sense. If this was directed towards her… what on earth had she done to deserve it? Ino reflected on her recent endeavors; she hadn't screwed someone over recently, had she? No… or at least she hadn't screwed anyone over knowingly… which made Ino wonder if the engraving actually was written for her… It was either that option, or the other likely choice of blaming the state of her mussed-up mind on her incessant paranoia.

Ino glanced around the busy pre-bell art room for a hint of apprehension. Her examination was thorough. Nothing. No one seemed to be guilty or anxious in any way (well, there was this poor guy at table three who was trying to get some girl to go out with him, but Ino highly doubted that that uneasiness was remorse for carving some rude message into her desk). Perhaps she was just over thinking it? Maybe the note wasn't meant for her at all? Maybe it was for someone who had art before her? It would explain why it wasn't here yesterday. Besides, there were plenty of other people, apart from Ino, who sat at this table… in this seat…

Okay so maybe there were only two others students who sat here, but the point remained: there were other students. …That meant that her notion was entirely likely, right? Right. The note was meant for someone else. Yes, that was it…meant for someone else… maybe… hopefully?

Ino shifted uncomfortably drawing her black jacket tighter around her shoulders. Had it always been this cold in the art room?

…Oh no… she did not just think that.

Great, yes. Yes, she had. Perfect. She was distracting herself, wasn't she? That was never a good sign. Quite the contrary, really. Distractions usually meant she was hiding her guilt of something, and if she was guilty of something, then that thing she was guilty of would give some person motive to scribble a rude message into her desk. Bad bad sign. Ino frowned.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure it wasn't always this cold here—no, dammit! The temperature of the room had absolutely nothing to do with her current crisis, which meant it was a pointless distraction, which indirectly meant she was guilty. The idea didn't sit well with her, so Ino decided to discard the thought, and instead she let a finger run over the engraving, her fingertip pulling loose some chunks of table left in the deep scratches. Yup, fresh. Ino withdrew her hand but didn't take her eyes from the words. She probably was just over thinking it… she tended to do that…

Ino didn't notice the other member of table one enter the classroom (not that she ever usually did, as the bastard simply liked popping up out of nowhere and startling the pudding out of her). He did a quick glance around the class, as usual, and then took his seat. The little note on the table didn't go unnoticed. He gave a false smile. "I'm sure the little asswipe that did that will get what's coming to them. Don't worry, gorgeous."

Ino jumped slightly, and then frowned at the guy sitting directly across from her. His false smile didn't flicker in the slightest, so Ino returned the grin with her own, small forced smile. She countered with light sarcasm, "Thank you for that comment, Sai; it helped greatly."

He smiled at her again, and spoke without missing a beat. "No problem." He'd either missed the sarcasm or chosen to ignore it. Ino had her bet on the latter. Sai was Sai. He was just like that.

Ino smiled again, albeit a little more relaxed this time due the familiarity. Sai was a generally pleasant guy to be around when you didn't piss him off. Not that anyone could really tell when they pissed him off because he always hid behind that same forced smile. But Ino understood him. When she thought about it, they were actually similar in a way; they both hid behind their own mask… and she was pretty darn positive that neither of them was very happy with the masks they had donned.

Ino sighed, trying to relax a bit while she took out her sketchbook. Sai followed her actions, withdrew his own sketchbook and flipped through it to find their current project. Not that she knew how he could find anything in that mess. Honestly, the two sketchbooks were stark in comparison: Ino's being small and tidy, while Sai owned a rather large sketchbook, with all sorts of wear and tear, and loose drawings sticking out from the binding at odd angles. It was a wonder that the thing hadn't ripped yet. Sai's voice brought Ino out from the depths of her thoughts. "Turn a little to the left, gorgeous." Ino obliged. Currently, they were working on portraits, and, conveniently, they were assigned to draw the person sitting across from them.

Sai was a genius when it came to art, and Ino, on the other hand, had the artistic flair of a monkey on morphine. None of her stuff could even be called "art" in comparison to what Sai could do. She frowned down at her incomplete portrait of Sai and quashed the small inkling of jealousy rising in her. "Sorry, you look terrible… No… N-No wait…! Erm, that came out wrong—no, I didn't mean it like that—the picture—I was—"

Sai smiled, "I know what you were talking about."

Ino nodded and glanced between Sai and "picture" before ripping out the sheet, crumpling it into a ball, and tossing it in the trash can. All was hopeless. After selecting a new pencil, she exhaled sharply and set to work. But her mind wasn't too focused on sketching. She might put on a class face to make her peers unaware of any internal conflict, but truth be told, Ino's mind was still wholly occupied with that stupid little note, and the unease it caused. And then she recalled Sai's cheeky comment from earlier, which actually made her feel a bit better.

The blonde dragged her pencil across the page before sighing under her breath, "What goes around comes around."

Sai looked up. "What was that?"

Ino smiled. "Nothing."

-English-

What. The. Hell. Ino quirked an eyebrow setting her book bag down on the floor next to the connected plastic chair. Why was there ink all over her desk? What was going on today? The blonde glared back down at the blackish-bluish goop, which had seeped into the chipboard rather nicely, and frowned. Who was pissed at her? Better yet, who was pissed at her that shared two of her classes? They didn't necessarily have to be in the same order that she had them… but they had to share them none the less.

There was only one person who came to mind: Temari.

It was true that Temari had art first hour, and she shared Ino's English class, but she hadn't pissed Temari off recently…!

Ino glanced over at the dirty blonde. She was sitting all prim and proper in her seat looking completely at ease while she stared at the whiteboard. Ino's eyes narrowed willing the blonde to look up so that she could find a trace of guilt on her face. But she didn't look up… nor did her expression read remorse in the slightest… damn. Was Temari even mad at her? No. Ino didn't think that—wait, what about that phone thing yesterday? Temari had gotten her detention without reason. Did that count for something?

Ino frowned trying to think of ways she could have possibly wronged Temari—the other blonde could most definitely be vicious when needed—but when Ino was rewarded with the brilliant idea of nothing, she resorted to analyzing the cheer co-captain. Temari wasn't one to attack for no apparent reason…

Well, that assessment wasn't entirely true. However, when the other blonde did strike (without seeming cause) it was usually to appease the whims of Sakura. Sakura! Temari could be acting right now because of Sakura! The revelation certainly made sense; the pink-haired billboard-brow was really the only person who really hated her guts for no purpose.

…Crap! Sakura was out of town for some annual family Christmas vacation-y thingy, and Temari wasn't likely to act without her. Which would mean that Temari was mad at her. Which put her back to square two. Why was she mad at her?

Uh! Did it really matter why she was mad at her? Hell, did it really even matter who was mad at her? She just wanted whoever it was to stop harassing her!

Ino sighed roughly, not shielding her annoyance well, before checking her seat for ink—it was clean—and sitting down. She could deal with this on her own. If she made a fuss to the administration about a little bit (okay a lot) of ink on her desk, and a couple of nasty words scrawled into a table, she would likely be satisfying the desires of her harasser. Wasn't the only reason people did things like this because they liked seeing the act of retaliation from their victim?

But why ink? Really ink? And it was everywhere! Ino pouted childishly, idly wondering if schoolwork could be done in an environment like this? Arriving at a solution, she sighed and pulled out her notebook. After ripping out a couple of sheets of paper, she laid them neatly across the top of her desk (much like a person, laying newspapers down for a yet-to-be-house-trained puppy, would). The makeshift placemat would have to do. At least she wouldn't stick to her desk; having a big, nasty inkblot on an elbow did not sit well with her.

After setting her notebook down on top of the layered sheets, she flipped the cover open to reveal a fresh page. Ino wasn't a weak person, she could deal with it. Besides, this was her last period before lunch. Just one more hour, and then she'd be fine.

-Math-

Or at least she thought she'd be fine.

But no, the blonde was only allowed the half-hour break for lunch before it started again. The rude scratching on her desk in art, and the ink smeared across her desk in English was enough to make anyone's day terribly crappy, but apparently "terribly crappy" was not crappy enough for Ino. Of course, she wasn't allowed off the hook just yet! Not with those mere two pleasantries. No siree! She still had at least one more to go!

And so she found, upon entry into her Calculus class, that she had to deal with no less than fifty math books stacked high on her desk.

…Her head was going to explode.

There was no doubt about it. It would explode… and the explosion would be soon judging by her well-concealed rage. And then after it exploded, all the poor students surrounding her would be showered with bits of Ino brain and skin, and then the guys in those giant safety hazard suits would be ushered in to the classroom in order to solve the mystery of her spontaneous exploding head, they would no doubt come up empty handed, and then leave, but not before the girls in the class could start screaming because of the gory mess, so then a janitor would have to be called in to mop her bloody remains off the floor of her calculus class, and why was she thinking of this again? She was only making things worse for herself. The unwelcome thoughts had only succeeded in making the half-digested ham and cheese sandwich in her stomach unhappy.

Ino glared the stack of books and set her book bag down, admittedly a little harder than necessary, next to her desk. She felt livid. Who was doing this and why? What had she done? Hell! She hardly ever willingly talked to people… let alone get close enough to anyone to piss them off.

"Whoa, who did that?" Choji asked anger barely registering through his mouthful of chips. If she attempted to respond to his question, Ino would probably snap at him for something irrelevant—like the bit of Dorito stuck to his chin. However, being the extremely close friends that they were, Ino didn't want to hurt his feelings. So, as a result, she remained stubbornly silent. "Here let me help, you." Choji folded up his chip bag and stuck it in his pocket. Only after did he take huge armful of books.

Good Lord the man was strong! He had taken half of the entire stack without even flinching. Ino forced a smile… she wasn't really in the mood to smile but she wanted to show her appreciation. "Thank you, Choji. That's sweet of you."

He smiled back, albeit his was carefree and happy and totally oblivious to her false happiness. "Don't worry about it," He said as he tipped the stack of books onto the shelves. Ino grabbed a few books from the top of the pile, while Choji swiftly returned for the rest of the stack. They dumped the books in their rightful place and took their seats. And when Ino sat down, she found yet another message crudely scratched into the wood-imitation:

It's all your fault, you whore.

Ino's fist clenched at her side. This was going too far. What the hell?

And Choji must have then just noticed her anger because he spoke suddenly, snapping her out of her trance. "Hey, Ino. Are you okay?" The man had his bag of chips open, once again, and situated neatly in the center of his desk.

He was munching while he spoke—which was commonplace for Choji—but, at the moment, Ino found this incredibly annoying. "I'm fine, Choji!" She responded harshly… and then felt immediately horrible for speaking to him in such a way. He gave her an odd, startled look before turning away from her, his feeling obviously hurt. "No. Choji, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap." She apologized hastily, willing away the way she stubbornly felt like a piece of shit. Choji remained motionless.

"It's fine." He mumbled.

"I didn't mean it, I swear. I'm sorry." She repeated again for good measure. Choji nodded… Ino closed her eyes.

Breathe, breathe. Mindless—well okay, I suppose it would be justified—anger is what they want. Breathe. Don't please them by getting angry. Breathe. Don't please them by showing your anger. Breathe. Ino repeated this quiet mantra multiple times before she finally felt the irritation seeping away. She opened her eyes—

You whore.

—and then promptly closed them again. She began to grope blindly around the inside of her bag for a pen, before finally finding one and withdrawing it. She pulled off the cap with her teeth, and glared down at the offending word. And then she began to scribble it out viciously. Who gave two hairs if she was damaging school property? It was already ruined and she couldn't bear look at that word. She wasn't a—. No. Just ignore it… ignore it… ignore it… ignore it… ignore—

Why was this happening? What had she done wrong?

-Park-

It was instinct now… habitual. Just walking towards the swings—as always—getting out her book, and waiting. She didn't have to look up to know when Shiro arrived. "Hang on." She responded—without prompt—before turning the page brusquely. She was still in a bad mood from earlier, and wanted nothing but to finish the chapter before setting her brain back into motion and attempting to think. Yes, that meant she wasn't exactly thinking at the moment.

Reading, for Ino, didn't take much concentration. It was her way of willing her mind into a state of momentary peace—just absorbing words on a page while forcing her own—less enjoyable—reality behind a door she refused to open until deemed fit. Yes, Ino was a book nerd (though that much should have been gathered) and the fact could quite easily become her downfall… not that she cared. Coping with difficulties was a far more pressing matter—at the moment—than trying to stall her impending doom.

Nowadays, most people her age resorted to drugs, alcohol, or razors as means of escaping, and while Ino wouldn't deny that she too needed an occasional lapse of reality, she chose more wholesome means of dealing. The question was a simple choice: would she rather drug her mind with books or with pills, alcohol, and razors. In her authoritative opinion, she had chosen the much better alternative.

The blonde heard no complaint to her previous "hang on" comment—not that she was actually listening for a response, so if he had said something, it was unlikely that she would have heard it anyways—and she continued to read in silence. As it was, however, Shiro hadn't said anything, and instead, simply took a seat to her right.

Finished. Ino sighed lightly, looked up from her now closed book, and turned to glance at Shiro. He was staring at her with an expression her muddled mind didn't want to comprehend at the moment. The blonde stared back, stoic. There was a long pause, filled with nothing but the impromptu staring contest, before Ino smiled uncertainly, feeling awkward with their silence.

"So… are you going to tell me what's wrong." Shiro's words caught her off guard.

And Ino clearly didn't hide her surprise well: her thin eyebrows had shot skyward, then furrowed, her eyes widening to an impossibly large size, and another uncertain smile wouldn't go awry either… "What makes you think anything would be… wrong?" she responded hesitantly, her tone betraying her words. Stupid tone.

Shiro raised an eyebrow and frowned in effort to hide his growing smirk. She was so funny. "I don't know if you've noticed it recently, but you're a terrible liar—no offense—and, besides, you only ever glare daggers at your book when you're in a bad mood."

How in the world had he noticed that? "Wha—No I—?" Ino frowned, unable to come up with a snappy retort. "I don't glare daggers at my books," was the "witty" answer she finally settled upon. "And besides, if I was in a bad mood, I wouldn't have—"

Shiro smiled. "Don't deny it, I know you better than that." The blonde looked startled for a moment and then turned away from his gaze a prominent blush beginning to form on her cheeks. It was true… and terrifying. He'd learned more about her in a month than most people ever learned about her in a lifetime. He was ridiculously observant. It made her feel very small… like all her faults and problems were his to see and judge her for… not that he ever did.

Shiro, however, missed the blush and repeated his question, when she gave him a silent explanaition, "So what's wrong?" Ino flicked her head towards him suspiciously; their eyes met and held for a moment. What could she say? There was so much on her mind, and she prayed to God that it wasn't showing in her eyes. He'd, no doubt, take interest and analyze the crap out of it, and then she'd be left feeling even more vulnerable than she was now… and she really didn't want that. Nor did she really want him knowing too much about what was going on. That would be awkward… and there was no doubt that he'd be angry.

Ino sighed and turned away, her thoughts now swimming in everything that was going on presently. The stuff at school was just a small distraction compared to her other issues. Like the fact that the guy that had almost raped her a month back, had decided to drop by, act quite civilly, be welcomed openly into her home by her parents, look all smug about the shit involving her that had just so happened to start unfolding with her father's business deal, and surprisingly worse that jerk's mere presence, was that her parents, whom she trusted with her life, were now pressuring her into—"It's just boring stuff at school." Best avoid the second issue entirely.

"Boring?" He repeated sounding skeptical. Ino avoided his gaze. "Come on, Ino, I know you and 'boring.' Your 'boring' is never boring."

Ino cracked; it was better to spill the less pressing matters, and never reveal the darker ones to Shiro, than to keep quiet until he worked all of it out of her resistant mouth… what would he do when—if (she reminded herself stubbornly…"if" was better than "when")—he found out? "Apparently I did something to make someone at school angry—and don't ask me what I did because I have no freakin' clue—but they've decided to retaliate by harassing me."

He was silent for a moment… his expression unreadable, and Ino began to wonder why almost all of his expressions were so damn incomprehensible… It must be the glasses, being unable to see his eyes. Yup, that was definitely it. The next chance she got she'd whip the ungrateful things off of his face.

"Was it the same girl who got you sent to detention?" Once again, his input startled her.

"What—? No… maybe… I don't know. Look, it's nothing okay; it's not important." Ino's hand curled around the chain holding up her swing gently her eyes downcast.

Shiro hesitated. "If it's something that's upsetting you, then it is important."

The blonde couldn't help the smile forming at her lips. "To be perfectly honest, I'm not so upset anymore… Serious!" She added when she caught his look of blunt disbelief (at least she could decipher that expressioin). "Just being here with you helps; believe me."

And then he was on his feet, gently persuading her to rise to hers, which she did shortly but not without sending him a look of confusion. They stood like that for a moment, before Shiro leaned down to capture her lips.

What was with him and shocking her today? Ino's eyes widened, understandably, before sliding shut in bliss. Her lips moved sensually against his, her hands traveling up into his hair and whipping the damned hat off in the process. Her mind faintly registered that he was mumbling incoherently, not that the incoherence sounded unpleased—quite the opposite in fact. His hands had snaked around her waist and were holding her to him tenderly. It seemed that Ino's world would simply just melt away, and she wanted it to. Just stay here forever, content in his arms and free from her troubles—

"You fucking bitch!"

The scream tore them apart, Ino jumping away from her partner and spinning around wildly.

A seething dirty blonde, was running towards Ino, eyes lethal, and fist raised. What was going on? "Temari? What are—" And then she dodged to the left, but not entirely missing the fist aimed for her right cheek. "Ow." Ino flinched, holding the side of her face still extremely bewildered. She glared up at Temari, who was struggling to break her wrist free from Shikamaru's grasp. He was looking down at her pissed. "Just what the fuck is your problem with me! ?" Ino's voice had risen just as fast her anger had.

Temari ripped her gaze from Shikamaru in favor of shooting furious looks at Ino. "Oh, like you really don't know, you whore!"

Ino shrieked, outraged, and lunged for the other girl, her fists curling in the other blonde's hair, and tugging roughly. Temari screeched and pulled herself free backhanding the other girl with her ridiculously sharp nails, splitting Ino's lip. Fire and then a flury of scratching, hitting, pulling, kicking—needless to say, it got violent pretty quickly.

"Ino! Ino, stop it, please. You're hurt… Stop! You're bleeding…" Shikamaru pried the platinum blonde off the other blonde and wrapped his arms tightly around her middle.

"Let me go! Damn it …let me go! …Please!" She was kicking out trying to break free from his grip… but she began losing energy quite quickly. Apparently, however, she still had enough left to start crying. The tears blurred her vision as Ino still struggled against him. "Let me go… Let me go… Let me go! Damn it! Let go!" She lurched forward again, in vain attempt to attack Temari, who was still lying on the ground clutching her stomach—Ino had kneed her in the gut and it left the girl rather winded. Shikamaru's grip tightened.

"Shh… Ino, calm down. Calm down…" Ino's breathing was coming in easier… but she was still struggling against him, albeit with much less vigor than before. "Are you hurt? You're okay, right? Please tell me your fine."

And Temari had obviously had enough, and was finally on her feet, angrier than before—if that was even possible. "You bitch!" Shikamaru flinched at the words and spun Ino around, her face now buried in his chest, to keep her from lashing out at Temari, or getting hit by her. "Stop protecting her!" Temari's voice had reached an unnaturally high octave before fury flashed in her eyes.

"Temari, get out of here, now."

Ino froze. Silence settled over the group, the sudden change in atmosphere causing Shikamaru to freeze as well and Temari to temporarily lose her rage. A couple of long seconds passed before the silence was broken by Ino's whispered: "You know her?"

"Ino, no I—"

Her hands clenched in his shirt. She was still tensed and she spoke again a little louder. "Don't lie to me, Shiro… do you know her?"

"Of course he fucking knows me! I'm his—" Temari paused, realization dawning as she glanced quickly from Shikamaru, to Ino, and then finally back to Shikamaru. "Oh. My. God. She doesn't know? You mean, didn't tell her who you were? My god, Shikamaru, this is too good." The blonde rolled her eyes a smile playing at her lips. And then she started laughing.

"Temari! Get out of here!"

"No!" It was Ino who had yelled; she pushed away from Shikamaru, and he didn't try to stop her this time. "Shikamaru?" She repeated the name looking between Temari and Shikamaru. Who the fuck was—"Shikamaru." Her eyes widened. Oh good heavens. Shit. It all made sense now! The bathroom, the voice, the clouds, the… Temari was his… Oh no. No. No. No. No. "You lied to me."

"Ino... no wait I—let me explain—"

"No. You lied to me!" She couldn't stop the hand that lashed out across his cheek. His head whipped sideways, glasses landing somewhere in the sand, but he didn't stop her (even though Ino was pretty damn sure he'd be able to if he wanted), or flip out, or do anything… he just stood there, the red mark from the slap slowly taking form on his face. "You…" He turned to look at her eyes searching. Ino's lower lip trembled, and she bit the damn thing before it gave away how hurt she was by this whole thing. Not that stopping the trembling would help much, seeing as she was still crying. The tears running silently down her face. Stillness settled over them again. "You…" She swallowed and spoke slowly trying to understand it all. "So you were just… playing with me…?"

"No—! No. Ino… I swear, it's not like that—"

"How can you say that? You're dating her!"

"Ino—just let me explain!"

"You were playing with both of us? God, I trusted you!"

"Ino—"

"No." She paused. "No… you're an asshole, Shikamaru." The words hung in the air heavily… and Ino turned away from it all. Grabbing her things and running. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't really care. She just needed to get the hell out of there. She didn't know who to trust any more.

Temari had gone quite silent during the whole ordeal. She merely watched the events unfold before her, deriving some kind of sick pleasure from Ino's pain, and once the blonde had ran… she turned to Shikamaru, a look of false sweetness on her face. "It's okay. I forgive you. It was her fault. She's just a slut; it can all go back to the way it was before, you know?" Temari took a step towards him, her hands snaking their way around his waist.

"What the fuck, Temari?" He grabbed the blonde's forearms and pulled her off of him before her hands could clasp around his back.

"But, it could go back—the way it was before… I'd be happy—"

"No—Temari, I can't. This—us… it's not gonna…"

They fell silent. The implied meaning of the words were obvious, and they didn't go unnoticed by Temari. "Are you… are you breaking-up with me…?"

"…Yes, Temari. I'm breaking up with you." He spoke condescendingly, and Temari let out an indignant huff, her eyes welling up even more so than Ino's had.

"You—" She took a breath trying to steady her rage of emotion. "Fine!" she said, still attempting to keep a firm hold on her pride. Her tears betrayed her, however, as they began to spill from her eyes. She swallowed thickly and turned on her heel leaving Shikamaru utterly alone in the wide, empty, park.

The silence again. That damn silence. He hated it. He hated this! Why. Fuck. This was not how it was supposed to turn out. Not like this. Shikamaru closed his eyes—feeling akin to a piece of shit—and he took a seat on the swing. It felt weird being at the park without Ino. But after what had gone down tonight… shit. She'd never look at him again would she? Damn it.

A/N: So, the truth finally comes out…! And this is hopefully the last of "stupid cheater Shika" you'll ever see… but I can make no promises. Appologies for the late update (I've been busy with finals) but guess what? I'll just assume you guessed what so I can continue but anywho: it's that time of year! You know what that means? No school! Which, of course, equals quicker updates! Hopefully…? But YAY! :) Be happy!

((And I don't like FFnet's new layout D:))