Summary: I should have kissed you whilst that village was burning down.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: My laptop is dead. Like, actually deceased. Decrypt. Lost to the ages. Hence I am using the home computer, which I rarely do. This is terrible! Also, this chapter is extremely dark.

Bringing you Theme Twenty-one: violence; pillage/plunder; extortion.

Honey

The Shadows

Yamanaka Ino believed in a perfect world.

She liked to think that things came easy, that much work wasn't needed to make things right. That justice was as it was, and it poured itself into one collective force against those who did wrong. Words made lies, but in all lies was a hint of truth and that was always good enough, despite what anyone else said. Beauty made things simple in even the oddest ways, like a little smile from an old lady and a small thank you from her husband for help that made the world seem just a little brighter because they were so pretty. She believed in basic gestures like giving flowers and not telling the meanings behind them, watching stars and clouds with an open mind waiting for them to show her what made them so breathtaking, and helping the underdogs when things were as rough as they could possibly get. She was too kind hearted, he had decided after many years. Too trusting and nice. She gave and took as she was offered, and though she preferred to give she often received things she did not want for that very reason. She took the gifts of hate and pain she was forced to accept, and changed them into something else. Something good. Because she didn't believe in darkness, she didn't believe in monsters, and there was something right in every wrong in her eyes.

That was why she was well liked by various men of his age. She was the person who smiled at Uzumaki Naruto after she found out he held a demon inside, because she didn't think it mattered at all. She was the person who gave Uchiha Sasuke warmth despite his actions when he returned, probably the one he ended up regretting ever leaving behind. She was the person who taught Sai to really smile, teaching him about learning by emotions instead of learning by books. She was the person who laughed at Hyuga Neji when he gave her orders to stay where she was so he could go by himself, then completely ignored him and so ended up saving his life. She was the person who gave Rock Lee beautiful (and youthful) lotus flowers every time he entered her father's shop without charge, despite the consequences because she liked seeing his childlike face light up with joy. She was the person who saved refugee bugs for Aburame Shino, taking them from her shop and leaving them outside his house in containers with a playful note stating that he needed to make sure they didn't run into her pesticides (not that Shino probably found the joke very funny) with a grin on her face even if his reaction wasn't probably the best one every single time. She was the person who fed Inuzuka Kiba's pet Akamaru doggie biscuits, even after his family had banned the tattooed boy from feeding them to the dog himself and just giggled at the consequences when a haughty sister of his told her off. She was the person who Sabaku no Gaara had an affinity to, if only because she was the first one who flat out refused to call him Kazekage-sama like every other girl did around the time he earned the title. She was the person who painted flowers on Sabaku no Kankuro with his purple 'make up', then let him draw over her arms which eventually resulted in a rather messy paint fight which ended in purple blotches not removing from their skin for weeks.

She was also liked by the girls, even if not in a sort of fleeting romantic way. She was the person who Haruno Sakura had to live up too; giving her a reason to carry on fighting even after their rivalry had long disappeared to be replaced with a once again friendly bond. She was the person who found the little things that Tenten left behind in the morning when she just happened to be passing through the training grounds, returning them with a small grin. She was the person who made Hyuga Hinata smile with just a little bit more confidence, telling her to let the world see her beautiful grin like they had never seen in before. She was the person who called Sabaku no Temari pretty, then took her shopping because she dressed a little oddly and when she wore the clothes Ino picked out the purple-clad woman knew that everyone would stare at her beauty.

She was even liked by the teachers. She was the person who Hatake Kakashi laughed at, because he thought she was weak and pathetic (not that he told her) but it didn't matter because she stuck with her team mates no matter what and he wished he had always done that. She was the person who Gai called youthful, for making Lee so delighted that he proclaimed her to be that very thing and he knew youthful people were never bad so of course she couldn't do any wrong in his eyes. She was the person who went to see Yuuhi Kurenai three times a week for lunch, watching over the pregnant woman carefully and doing all she could to help her although Kurenai often thought she did too much for her.

Most of all, she wasn't just liked by her team. She was loved by them. To Sarutobi Asuma she was the person who had given comfort, because he thought that even with three students with perfect teamwork had a tough time ready to hit them but when she first began to care for them he knew he didn't have to worry. She was capable of anything, if she could be bothered to put her mind to it, and that made everything just a little better. Despite the fact that she was the only person who could get away with calling Akimichi Chouji fat, she did really care about him and when he was sitting their in hospital years ago she had taken food to him everyday because she was so terrified of his bony body and because she wanted him to be healthy again, even if for him that meant being on the slightly rounder side.

But to Shikamaru? Well, he was a boy, and he was on her team. She was the person who watched clouds with him when he didn't want her to, annoying him to no end. To him, she was possibly the most aggravating woman he had ever had the misfortune to meet. She put flowers in his hair when he fell asleep, made him make the effort to get up to see her every morning (because Chouji didn't count, seeing as he would get up for him anyway and he couldn't blame Chouji for anything) and the one who he felt was possibly the most troublesome woman alive. Which of course, his father had chuckled at, saying Nara men were cursed to love the most troublesome women no matter what they wanted and he had better learn to run fast because Inoichi would want him dead when the time came. Apparently, he'd had the average dream too, and every other Nara before that had. Shikamaru told him he'd break the tradition, because he couldn't possibly learn to love that thing he was stuck with. But even so, he hadn't been able to deny he had a soft spot for her. Not that he'd tell her that.

So he'd been surprised when she (of all the damn people) had turned up at the village gate saying she'd just snapped the neck of a man she was pretty sure she wasn't actually her target with her bare hands and expecting him to help. Sure, she could be violent and she had a tendency to rely on him, but it seemed out of characters for her to do something so very wrong until he saw it. He looked in her eyes, and saw the glimmer had faded away. The amusement with the smaller things. The acceptance she radiated. He'd only noticed her actions. Never what she looked like, not on the inside and it was then he realised that she'd lost her outlook. She'd realised things didn't come easy, she'd began to only see in black and right and right and wrong, she'd lost the part of her that saw beauty in everything, come to notice no matter what gestures she made they all amounted to nothing, and the gifts she had been given had finally broken through her skin and crawled into her heart and robbed her of who she had always been. Because she knew the darkness, she could see monsters lurking all around her in the hearts of others, and there was no longer right in every wrong because she couldn't find excuses for the world and all those who inhabited it any longer.

His father had once told him something he said would be important. Shadows will always surround us, he had said, but they will never pull us under. Not us, then with a dark look he had added just everything else. They will pull up the nails that hold down everything you own, then and you won't be able to do damn thing to stop it because it's so damn beautiful. Shikamaru had frowned, finally seeing it. Shadows control everything, and we can't help it, can we? We love the shadows, and so we love ugliness.

"We can't help but love imperfection." Shikamaru repeated.

Neither could Ino.

Chouji broke first.

Because the shadows were coming for him and he was always just as much of a dreamer as Ino. So Shikamaru looked down at the butterfly boy, beautiful and bloated and bloody and broken and says nothing. Because what could he say? He knew it was going to happen, knew he was going to slither and slip and slide into the shadows and die. Because that's what shadows do. They retreat and hide until they see the right time to fight, and Chouji had always been his shadow. Had always been hiding behind him, always second and a silhouette that watched from the wings before his magnificent performance. The world had been cruel to him. It had battered him. It had ripped off his wings entirely with a few pills and a few words and silly beautiful ugly people who made him see how beautiful ugly the world was under the shiny surface it showed around. He wondered if it had always been that way, or if the people made it like this. Either way it made sense. But Ino chose for both of them.

She took all that she could from the village. She acted as a bandit, except rather than taking material things, she takes everything else. She took the shinobi that killed Chouji and showed them the world as it is by taking away everything they had and then saving them with a quick and messy death. It only took a sword. She took the people that condoned it, their council, and nobody could stop her from slashing all their lives to pieces. She took the men of the village and broke every heart that she could, driving them to suicide over a week or to kill each other and the jealous women and pregnant wives waiting patiently for their return. The men that survive she let him mess with, making them steal from each other and turn against each other until there were none left. The women that survived, no matter what state they are in, Ino tortured. The children? She let them run, and those who didn't burned down along with the twigs that held their homes together by sunset on the seventh day. They'd done it all in disguise, all from the shadows, and it was easy. Easier than either of them expected.

"I looked down on my creation, and saw that it was good." Ino whispered, watching the town burn to ashes as he stroked Chouji's pale face. His open eyes stared up beseechingly, asking the justice of this madness, because all shinobi were supposed to die. All people were supposed to die. But not like this. They'd murdered him; the shadows did it, just as they murdered this village. Shikamaru saw the justice. He saw what the shadows had created, and he too thought that his creation was good.

He and Ino had created a bright burning light in the darkness on the village, on the face of the void, and they blazed to proclaim their majesty. They had raised a new home in their glory. So he had taken the last remaining child, and left it there with a look at the village.

"I will raise a creature in my image to have dominion over all things, to be my light in this darkness." The flames of the village burned in the child's eyes, ready and waiting to be released. He trembled and shook and hid from the eyes of Ino, but as he sat she dragged him to his feet and pointed to the forest that was probably to his eyes fairly far away. Her demanding look set on him, she stared down at what she created with a thin smile.

"Run." So the child did so, ready to bring darkness on all that he would thirst for until he was ready. They had created a child, just like them. One who saw the shadows, but one who could live in them like they could not. One day, they might have to send something to cleanse what they had created. Shikamaru knew that. The shadows would want it gone, if it tried to control them for itself. But he didn't care. When his last judgement came, he knew that he would protect that child even if it meant taking away the free will of what only he knew how to use.

When they returned home, their mission report was perfect. It didn't include what they had done. They shed no tears at the funeral, and a craftsman carved Chouji's name into the stone instead of either of them. Chouza mourned, Inoichi mourned and the rest of the twelve rookie shinobi mourned. Shikato, his father, just looked at them and said nothing. Because his father knew just as well as they did about the shadows and he didn't need to tell them that. But his father must have known he had began to see it in everything he was certain of that.

In dinner recipes, to follow instructions saying 'Add the chopped beans, coriander stalks and salmon to your onions and carrots then use the shadows to sew them together!' or on promotional posters saying 'You really can't go wrong with shitenshin, everyone hates it! That's what makes Ino such a great weapon to have under your belt!' and even in animal rescue leaflets saying 'At any one time, we have six thousand five hundred test subjects in our care! Sadly, for every piece of waste we can help there are many more that we are unable to hand over to you for your sick amusement. Please consider giving a toy the torture he deserves today and help us create more unhappy endings.' He didn't know whether to be concerned or not, really. It didn't appear Ino was, so he guessed it didn't really matter. So he opened his mouth when Ino tried to cook, before saying some unnervingly calm words.

"I should have kissed you whilst that village was burning down." He muttered, burying his head into the crook of her neck. Her perfume was delicious, smelling like apples. He always thought he suited flowers and blackcurrant shampoo, but he guessed he was wrong. His nose traced up her neck softly as she continued putting the ingredients together, and he briefly realised how easy it would be to do so many things with her that vulnerable to him. To the shadows. He could still kiss her. The shadows could kill her. All in a split second. Lips, or choke her. Small decisions could change lives, apparently. He hadn't noticed.

"It would have been romantic." She murmured, sliding the oven gloves across the counter to put them on. He noticed the slight disdain in her tone, and edged backwards quickly before deciding to crouch down to sit on her plain white tiled floor. So like her, to pick a colour which could be dirtied so easily. She never thought all too practically, he supposed. Just like the shadows. Maybe that was why he could stop them from hurting her, because they didn't want to, the possible reason being because she was like them. She knew them inside out, like she was one. It wouldn't shock him if she was one, actually. His idle train of though was interrupted by the answer that came to mind.

"This isn't a love confession." He said, not quite sure just who it was he was telling. Ino nodded to herself, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she bent down to put the food inside the oven. She got it. He reached forward when she had finished, grabbing the back of her knees so that she collapsed into him with a harsh thud. He hit the floor. She didn't change position. He was probably a fairly uncomfortable chair, but it didn't seem to bother her. Didn't bother her that he could kill her either apparently, because she didn't act as though he was dangerous and she kept her back turned on him.

"It's a heartless one, though." She replied. He pulled the back of her ponytail with a gentle tug, which she ignored. She used to scream when he did that, back when they were twelve. But here she was cooking Chouji's favourite dish one last time, and sitting on him in the miniature black dress she wore to his best friend's funeral, making it the one time she had right to. She could have cried, too. Anything. He hadn't expected her not to react.

"I can't love you." He said. Not more than the shadows do. She finally looked around, moving to put her legs over either side of him and staring blankly at his face with something that looked nothing like hurt or anger or sympathy. She moved her hand carefully down, touching his lips softly. No repulsion or fear. He couldn't see any, and couldn't think why. This beautiful thing was very ugly underneath and he loved her for it. But she didn't belong to him.

"I know." She answered flatly. She stood up, turning on him again and cleaning up her mess. He stood up quickly, his heart racing as he grabbed her arm. She span around in a matter of seconds, her face questioning the very thing he wasn't sure he wanted her to understand. Did he? Could he possibly? Did he want to? Yes. Yes. No, because he was sure she'd get hurt, even if it wasn't her fault. The shadows couldn't talk things over. Like her, they acted violently on impulse. They didn't care who got hurt. Not even those they loved so very much. He couldn't help but remember. Chouji broke first, he'd thought that. He was wrong. He and Ino had, that first time when she was at the gate and waiting for him to fix things all over again. He'd put them back together wrongly, and whilst his repair kept things together it barely did the job it wasn't correct for them to be that way. She was so ugly right then, and Ino had always been so beautiful in so many ways. Yet just as his father had said, he couldn't say the word he wanted to. To the shadows, or to her, or to himself.

Stop.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Ino had taken it by force! His head shouted and the shadows screamed and he yelled aloud in a confusing muddle; this was overcharge, exploitation, pure extortion at best to do this to him. No, had it been Ino to take it? Had he ruined himself? He couldn't blame the shadows, they were what made him. What made them. He could hear Ino screeching too, running after him in this thunderous noise. The air crackled around him like a whip, alive with enough electricity to shock him. He didn't care. He knew right then.

It was the shadows, the shadows prevented everything. The rage surfaced in him, pouring into his bones as Ino crashed into him, taking him to the floor. They hit the mud and water together, and she didn't stop thinking it, he knew. Why had he run away? Because they controlled him. Because they controlled all of the Nara family, they always had, he couldn't defy them. But he wanted to. He'd thought stop, they'd thought stop and Ino was crying go at the top of her lungs because they both needed to feel alive.

Shadows will always surround us, but they will never pull us under. Not us, just everything else. They will pull up the nails that hold down everything you own, and you won't be able to do damn thing to stop it because it's so damn beautiful. Shadows control everything, we can't help it, can we? We love the shadows, and so we love ugliness.

Yes, they surrounded them. But they were pulling a Nara under along with everything else. They had pulled up the nails that held down everything he owned, and it was so utterly stunningly beautiful it had taken every ounce of him to say stop because he didn't want them to control everything and he could help it. Every Nara could say stop, if they damn well tried. It was just so hard. So very hard, because he needed to love them like his father did and his grandfather had and everyone else always had. He didn't love this ugliness at all. He'd thought it amazing and attractive, but that had to be them speaking. He wanted Ino back. The Ino who was silly and found pleasures in the simple things. The Ino who he had a soft spot for. The Ino who he fell in love with. Not this Ino, who he still loved despite everything, who was sitting here crying in the rain like there was no tomorrow and calling his name because she didn't know how else to reach him. He knew how to try to reach himself though. He knew how to reach her, even. It just took one thing.

He grabbed her body as she tried to shake him roughly and then smashed his lips against hers. The world went silent. The thunder stopped roaring, his head stopped screaming and both of them stopped screaming. The shadows lost the voices they used. They moulded into one another, because things really did come that easy and justice was showing what was right. Because this wasn't a lie, it was all truthful. Because this was truly beautiful. It was a flawless, basic gesture like giving flowers and watching stars or clouds and saving the underdog when they faced uncertainty. Because the shadows didn't need her. She was better than them, and he'd choose her a million times over when she was compared with them. She wasn't made for darkness, she wasn't made for monsters, and she wasn't made for wrong. She was made for him, and he was made for her. Without shadows. He breathed. He knew this was supposed to happen, even if they said it wasn't.

"I love you."

Just because it was dark, it didn't mean it wouldn't have a happy ending. But I know many people probably assumed it did not have a happy ending anyway. Assumption is an odd thing.

Reviews are loved. :)