A/N: Welcome back, dear readers & lurkers! Both Ino and Shino are released from the hospital Wednesday morning. Shino takes us through Wednesday afternoon and night, and starts us on Thursday morning. We are currently on Thursday, early afternoon. Shino's chapter was hazy on the time, so I wanted to clarify. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Thirty-eight: Ino, Lost
"But, Daddy, it was harmless flirting! You put me in the front to draw in customers. You're yelling at me for doing my job." Ino leaned a hip into the countertop and toyed idly with an untrimmed bouquet.
Daddy was irritated, but he wasn't furious yet and she needed him furious to increase her own anger. The anger would camouflage her tiredness, her bizarre grief and heartache which had tormented her since her release from the hospital Wednesday. His anger would distract him from his anxiety over her, which was good since his anxiety would incur a mind technique (wherein he'd recognize how much pain she was in) and force her to return to the hospital where she'd waste away in one of those hideous 'comfort' rooms. Sakura'd have two ANBU on guard, and she'd personally pummel Ino into submission should an attempt at either escape or argument be made. No, thank you.
Daddy stood across from her, face sour and arms folded. "The man's betrothed was next to him! I don't think it appropriate for you to blow him a kiss."
"She's overreacting, obviously." Ino rearranged a couple of the sunflowers so the bouquet wasn't so lopsided. Tch. Whoever put together this bouquet had no sense of visual symmetry. "Women love to feel like they have a valuable, attractive man in their lives. Men love to be fawned over. It's a useful tactic."
"Not to sell flowers, it isn't!" Daddy said. His complexion had grown ruddy from the argument; his sea-green eyes sparked with high emotion. He set his hands on her shoulders to turn her toward him and to capture her undivided attention. The weight of his presence bore down on her, his chakra livid and vibrating. She fed off his increased anger. "Ino, it is also natural to feel threatened by a stronger rival. You are a beautiful young lady, a strong rival, and you threatened her with your flirtatiousness!"
"Bah. She needs to grow a sense of humor. If I was serious about stealing her fiancé, it'd be done." Which was true, she could snatch a man from a woman at any time she pleased- -and vise versa. "I'd be doing him a favor with that shrew for his future."
Daddy rubbed at the prominent vein in his forehead. "Your attitude doesn't help, and you arguing with her over her choice of bouquets didn't either!"
"Oh, come on. You can't blame me! She picked the gaudiest colors. Someone had to say something," Ino replied. "I won't apologize for being an expert on a complementary color palette."
"You told her she had the taste of a color-blind baked potato!"
Ino shrugged. "Nothing I said was untrue."
"You can't treat our customers so rudely. I'm docking your pay as my numerous warnings have fallen on deaf ears. We're lucky she was assuaged with the discount on the bouquet and our sincerest apologies," Daddy said. "I'm ordering you to cool it with the outrageous flirting and to wear your usual uniform for the foreseeable future."
Ino's jaw dropped. Now she was mad. "Dock my pay? You order me?"
"Sweetheart, it's either you follow my orders or you're out of the shop."
"You can't order me what to do because some shriveled old hag has low self-esteem!"
Father mirrored her shrug. "I can and I have. Make your choice."
She stared at him, smoldering with indignation, and analyzed her options. Her current lifestyle was funded in a large part by her work at the flower shop. Should she lose her position, she'd have to find additional income, either at the hospital (ruinous to her good looks and social life), at the Intelligence Division (ruinous to her mental health and social life), or she could take continuous out-of-village missions (ruinous to her physical health and social life). None of those prospects appealed to her. She decided to concede the argument and besides, she had only wanted to divert Daddy from a thorough investigation of her mind and divert herself from the constant, dull ache in her heart.
"You win. I'll stop flirting. But what's wrong with my dress?" The lavender sundress was one of her favorites. She smoothed the hemline hitting her mid-thighs, inches above her knees. Sure, the shoulder straps were thin and the fitted bodice showed cleavage, but she was modest. She'd even done her hair and make-up as she had to perform damage control this morning. Last night she hadn't slept a wink. "It's cute."
"Are you wearing a dress? I couldn't tell with so little material present." Daddy swept his hand in a broad gesture. "The news traveled fast since we opened. I fended off a riot of young men with a broom while you were on your lunch break. I almost had to use Shinranshin."
To cool the argument, its purpose accomplished, she let a smirk sneak out on her mouth. "Did you really?"
"Not the point, clover bush," he said and sighed. The waspish temper faded, and Daddy returned to a more stable emotional state. "The point is you are to be pleasant and well-mannered to customers. When you go back out, wear your apron. Then at least you won't turn every man's brain to mush or rile every woman when they step in."
"Mushy brains are the easiest to sell to."
"Yes, I see your logic. However, we can't have the ladies of the village avoid our business because of the tart who mans the counter." He settled back and crossed his arms, expecting her to argue further.
"I am not a tart," she muttered, but she wasn't upset about it. She'd been called worse and more offensive names in her life. Tart was almost a compliment. Anyway, it wouldn't do any good for her to keep back here. In a display of acquiescence to him, she relaxed her shoulders and dropped her eyes. "May I go up front? I'll put on my apron."
"You may. Behave yourself."
"Yes, Daddy," she replied as she turned from him.
Her apron was folded under the register, and she donned it so he wouldn't have an excuse to pay attention to her. She resumed her position at the register, and planting her elbows on the counter, gazed out the window for a customer. Her mind wandered.
To be truthful, she wasn't sure why she picked a fight with the woman. At the time, Ino was bored and her lunchtime coffee hadn't kicked in and okay, a pang of jealousy had hit her hard when she realized some 30 year old plain-as-a-brown-paper-bag civilian had landed a smoking-hot shinobi god. Here Ino was, stunning, resourceful, telepathic, and 100% available. So, she'd flirted shamelessly with the fiancé and had needled the woman to exact revenge on her for her luck. Even as Ino said and thought and did those petty things, she knew she was wrong. She had no reason to be catty, but she had to alleviate the tremendous sense of injustice which had seized her since her release from the hospital.
She was at the register a couple hours later (by herself, as Daddy was in the greenhouse) when a cutie-pie genin entered the shop with a messenger's satchel slung across her body. The genin had enormous brown eyes, a mess of bushy hickory hair sticking out in every direction, and blue circles like dots of paint on her cheeks. Ino had a vague recognition of her from somewhere, but couldn't put her finger on where she'd seen the genin's face.
"Welcome to Yamanaka Flowers! How may I help you?"
"Hi, yes." The little genin came to the counter, hesitant and shy. "Uh, may I speak to Yamanaka Ino, please?"
"I'm Yamanaka Ino."
"A message for you. Please initial." The genin handed Ino a small notebook and a pen. Once Ino signed, she accepted the message envelope. "A response is required, please."
Tch. She'd seen this girl, but where? How aggravating. As Ino was an expert in intelligence gathering, she decided to probe. "Have I…met you before? You seem familiar."
"Hm-hm." The genin nodded. "You were in the Aburame Square. I couldn't find it at first and had to ask. And I had to go around the side of the house into the back garden. You were with Aburame Shino." She dropped her gaze and a pink blush bloomed on her cheeks. Ino bit back a smirk. A small crush, then. "He…he told me he was impressed with my delivery no jutsu, and I shouldn't be afraid to make mistakes."
"I was with Aburame Shino?" Ino mulled this tidbit as she opened the note. It was terse, as Shikamaru didn't have time for diplomatic. The note told her he needed to see her as soon as she was finished at the shop, and he'd meet her at the entrance to the Hokage Tower. While he conveyed urgency, what did he have to say which would constitute an emergency? "I don't remember being in a garden with him."
"You guys had black markings your faces."
Ino glanced up. "We what?"
"Black marks." The genin gestured to her cheek. "Like clan markings or something. Yours were sort of like flower petals. His were blobby."
"Really." Ino detected no deceit in the genin. As far as she was concerned, she had witnessed them as she said she did. Why was I with Shino in the Aburame Square? She had some bits and pieces of memory of a garden, but was it a garden in the Aburame Square? Confused, Ino jotted out an affirmative to Shikamaru's request and handed it to the genin. "Here you go. I appreciate your hard work."
"Thanks! Have a good day, Miss Yamanaka."
When the genin left, Ino ducked into the back to Daddy's office. He kept records of their work on off-site projects. Lo and behold, she found receipts and reports in her own handwriting for a landscape project in the Aburame Square for an Amagawa Izo. Hunh. She had been in the Abruame Square. Why didn't she remember it? The dates showed it was a recent experience- -within the last few weeks. When she awoke in the hospital on Tuesday afternoon, she couldn't remember how she'd gotten there and her last memory had been a lunch date with Sakura at the beginning of the month! Some small memories had returned to her, but mostly she'd been in a haze of temporary amnesia- -according to Sakura and her father. A jutsu gone wrong, they said, but Ino had been skeptical. With the genin's eyewitness account, she wasn't so doubtful. Black markings sounded like a jutsu.
Ino returned to the front, afraid to be gone from the counter for too long. She should speak to Shino. Perhaps he could provide some clues to her memory loss and answer for why they were together in a back garden on his clan's land. Of course, she'd have to gather the fortitude to interrogate him. From their Academy days to missions and even in the war, Shino wasn't an easy person to walk up to and start a conversation with. He'd have to be coaxed, cajoled; she doubted flirtations would work, and she'd have to exert considerable patience. In the immortal words of Shikamaru, What a drag. Plus, the two-day old headache simmered in her temples, which would affect her concentration. She'd tried tea, aspirin, healing jutsu- -nothing had diminished its perpetual throb.
When the shop bell jangled, she jerked from her lost daze. "Welcome to- -Chouji! Karui!" Her mood soared, and laughing, she hurried out to throw herself into Chouji's embrace. His arms wrapped around her and he squeezed, squeezed, squeezed her breathless. Oh, she was whole again. "Welcome home! I've missed you!"
"I missed you, too!" He set her on her feet and she absorbed his presence, the familiarity of his great, heavy fall of flyaway hair, his considerable girth, and the serene peace he exuded. Everything was in order and yet, something was different. "We got into the village a few minutes ago."
Ino folded Karui in a warm hug; she'd come to adore Karui for her straight-forward, take-no-prisoners attitude and how she protected Chouji's soft heart. In the middle of the hug, Ino sensed a difference in Karui, a similar difference she'd felt from Chouji. A secret? Ino pulled back and read a sweet smile on Karui's mouth. When she glanced into Karui's eyes, an autumnal amber, a terrible howl of pain roared into Ino's heart, not because of Karui's own emotion, which mirrored Chouji's tranquil happiness, but Karui's eye color reminded Ino of…someone.
Someone? Yes, someone. She grasped for the memory, but it slipped through her fingers. Who? Who has yellow eyes? Her heart screamed, a torrent shredding her from the inside out, but Ino smiled despite the agony, the dizziness she had no reason to feel. "Did you two get married?" Then to explain the glassiness in her eyes (the sting was present so she knew), she continued, "Congratulations! I'm so…this makes me so happy. How wonderful!"
Chouji chuckled and shifted toward Karui. "I knew she'd figure it out without us telling her. You owe me my favorite breakfast."
"Yeah, yeah. Not surprising you know your teammate best." Karui smiled at Ino, who had shrank away to control her horrendous, gabbling emotions. Everything in her wanted to curl up into the fetal position and cry herself sick. "This guy made us rush the trip so he could tell you and surprise you before the news reached the Hokage Tower."
"I am surprised," and also, underlying the pain, jealous as hell. Once more, Ino was reminded she was attractive, telepathic, and without a single prospect. Marriage should be easier than this. The injustice of it! She ought to see if any of her old flames were available. Then she let the compulsion go to concentrate on the bitchy dizziness swirling her senses. To steady herself, she planted a casual hand on the counter. Time to cut her losses and run. "Why don't we have a celebration next weekend? It'll be a fun party and you two deserve the recognition."
Chouji clasped Karui's hand; his love her for writ in his eyes, his mouth, the posture of his body. I'm desperate for the same love. Why can't it find me? "What do you think? We could do barbeque."
"Sounds fun."
"Great!" Ino said and clapped her hands, a facsimile of real happiness. "I have some invitations I can send out, and I'll make the reservations at Yakiniku Q. You don't have to worry about a thing!" They agreed on the usual Rookie Nine crew and on a good time for the reservation.
Chouji and Karui didn't linger as they wanted to visit the Akimichi Square and make a formal announcement to the Akimichi clan as soon as possible. Once the happy couple left, Ino wilted under the shock. The last to be born, the last to find her place in the team, the last to be anything. Why am I always last? The headache had worsened and so had the dizziness. I should feel joy and excitement for them, but I only feel…lonely. Lost. She had a hard time keeping her balance. Whoa. Where'd this come from? She staggered to the intercom beside the swinging door and hit the buzzer.
"Yes, clover bush?" Daddy's voice was laced with static.
"Come up front."
"Something wrong?"
"Yes." She even sounded wrong to herself. "Please hurry."
"I'll be right there."
Ino sank to the floor behind the counter, hidden from view, and clutched her head, tremulous. An immense pressure had built force in her brain and her chest; she thought she'd explode. She'd welcome the relief. The dizziness spun her out of control and waves of nausea made her regret lunch. Faintly, she thought she should try for the toilet. As she crawled, on hands and knees, toward the bathroom, Daddy stumbled on her.
"Sweetheart?" He crouched and framed her hot face with his hands. Ino's vision swam; she couldn't see his expression. "You're green around the gills. Think you can make it home?"
"No," she gasped. Her gorge had risen.
"Are you…?"
She nodded, afraid to open her mouth, and he rushed her to the toilet where she was violently sick. Daddy held back her hair until she was through retching, and as she flushed, emptied out, he wet a paper towel with cold water to press against her nape. She didn't feel any better, lightheaded and heartbroken (but why?) and exhausted. Throat inflamed from her bile. Her heart pounded in her chest, aggravating the headache- -no, migraine- -and she closed her eyes because she didn't understand how one slight body like hers could contain such awful, brutal emotion. She heard a murmur, belatedly realized Daddy spoke to her.
"…you ate?"
"I don't know," she whispered, on the verge of tears.
"Could be the flu. We'll get you to your mother. She'll look after you while I watch the shop."
Ino didn't have the energy to even sit. She slumped, keeping her cheek to the chilly porcelain of the toilet lid, and waited for the dramatic spinning to cease. Daddy was to the side and probably used his mind technique to call in reinforcements. Frightened by her sudden illness and her father's description, she placed a hand below her navel. She shouldn't try to check with Daddy seated next to her, but if she was…that…she had to know. She didn't dare send the word into her brain as she released her chakra, the word too risky to think, for her father to pick up and go into panic mode. Ill though she may be, she had perfect control and searched for the tiny clot of cells, a zygote, which also disrupted the even flow of the chakra network, but everything in her uterus flowed smooth. Unless she was so sick she missed it.
No. I'm overreacting. Besides, the last time she had sex was at least two months ago, and since then, she'd had her period. Sakura had examined her in the hospital; she would've informed Ino about a pregnancy. Not pregnant, just sick. But the conclusion hurt her more. Why it should do so, she was at a loss. She didn't understand these huge crashes of emotions inside her.
Did it have something to do with her sex life? Her past lovers had satisfied her as bed partners, but they never met her emotional needs, and so unfulfilled, Ino disengaged and moved on. An endless wheel of courtship and romance, of kisses and caresses, of sex styles and experience levels rotated in her history, but these relationships were threaded with silence and detachment or one-sided obsession or cutesy puppy love. Nothing real. Nothing to sustain her.
A broody darkness welled up like a tar pit inside her. She yearned for a husband- -a true partner, not someone who'd roll over for her, but someone who'd understand her and always choose what was in her best interest- -for a baby, for a happy, comfortable home. More than anything, she wished for a forever-love, like Shikamaru had, and now, like Chouji had. Sakura had her warped forever-love with Sasuke; even Hinata and Kiba finally had theirs. And she was dead-last despite being one of the smartest in their graduating class, despite her beauty and her seduction tricks and her knowledge of everything kunoichi. Why can't it find me, too? Sharp, knife-like pain lanced into the soft of her heart. What about me? What about ME?
Daddy interrupted her inner turmoil by shifting her position so she leaned on his shoulder. He had a vial in hand, opened, of crystalline green liquid. Pungent mint attacked her sense of smell.
"Drink this," he said and held it to her mouth. "It'll lessen your symptoms."
She drank it because she didn't have the energy to refuse. The cool liquid tingled along the way, soothing her raw throat. Soon after, her dizziness diminished, her nausea was gone, and she was at relative ease. Daddy had carried her to the sofa in his office while they waited for a cousin to come watch the shop. As she dozed, she careened in and out of a decision to bother her mother or to convince her father to take her to her place. She wanted privacy. She wanted someone to coddle her. Her whole body ached, and her mind was tired and floated like Shikamaru's clouds in the sky. After awhile, Daddy opened the office door.
"Let's go," he said and held out a hand to her. "Mom's waiting."
"I'm okay, Daddy." She was steady on her feet when he hoisted her to standing. Very little of the dizziness remained thanks to the oral medicine. "I feel better."
He narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't mean you can take care of yourself."
"I don't think it's anything to worry Mom about," she answered. "Walk me to my apartment, and I'll get some rest and drink lots of water. I'll be fine tomorrow."
Daddy's eyebrow cocked. "Honey, you puked out your guts ten minutes ago."
"Yes, and if it is flu-related, I shouldn't breathe my germs on Mom and get her sick."
"Clover bush…"
"Please, take me to my place. Send someone by to check on me if you want, but don't worry Mom."
Daddy kept a level gaze on her, vacillating, until he sighed. "Fine."
The walk to her apartment was silent, and she preferred it to small talk. Not a single breeze stirred the air; why should words interrupt it? Hot humidity insinuated itself under her clothes until she felt a thin layer of grime and filth coat her skin. When she got home, she'd have a steamy, hot bath. Her mind wandered to Chouji and Karui- -did Daddy know about the marriage? Shit. She realized she had forgotten to grab the party invitations from the back of the shop, but she could ask a favor of Takahino when Daddy sent him to check in on her later.
When she and Daddy approached her gate, a profound sense of déjà vu clutched at her. She shook it off; she'd walked to her front gate hundreds of times, but the déjà vu persisted. Someone had walked with her, not Daddy, and though she felt the suggestion of the memory, she couldn't grasp it. Had it been someone she lost? Chouji? She didn't claim to be prescient. No one could predict the future…but maybe on some level, her subconscious had picked up Chouji's marriage to Karui, either in someway she "heard" it from his psyche those hundreds of kilometers away or whether from a good guess. Maybe the suddenness of it reeled her into a chaotic tailspin, so she felt like she had "lost" her teammate.
"Everything okay?" Daddy asked when she didn't unlatch the gate.
"Yeah, great! Thanks for walking me home." She hugged him and favored him with a genuine smile. "I promise I'll be better tomorrow."
Daddy kissed her forehead and watched her as she closed the distance from the gate to her door. Only when she waved with cheerful gaiety did he walk away. Inside her cool, dim apartment, Ino sighed. She was alone and the aloneness was felt everywhere between the four walls. What was wrong with her? Tired of thinking and feeling, she climbed the spiral staircase to the upstairs, peeled off her sundress, and drew a hot bath. While the water ran, she piled her hair on top of her head and poured some bath salts into the tub, the small gestures occupying her mind. She wiped off her make-up with some moisturizing remover. Dark purple smudges hung under her eyes and her complexion was pale; she looked old, strained. Good luck catching yourself a shinobi god, girlie.
She soaked a good long time in the tub, and when she abruptly woke from a doze, she dragged herself out before she drowned. Then she pulled free her comfiest, most well-worn pajamas, and sat at her vanity where she picked up an old, beautifully lacquered comb of which she had no recollection of receiving or buying. When she first noticed it, she had gone through some other baubles she owned, testing her memory, and for each one she had a distinct memory of where and when she got it. This comb didn't belong in her apartment, but how it was in her possession, she didn't know. And not just the comb. She'd done laundry on Wednesday as Daddy had given her the day off. As she'd fiddled with her dirty clothes, she had discovered a gorgeous clover bush pin on the inside of her flak jacket. Again, she had no memory of the pin. Daddy bought her small gifts all the time, but they were not as antique or as exquisite as this piece of jewelry.
A knock at her door roused her from her reverie. Must be Takahino. She stood and descended the spiral staircase when her visitor knocked harder, a series of determined rap-rap-raps. Geez, Takahino was eager. Also, why didn't he barge in like he normally did? Unless…it wasn't Takahino. In which case, who was it? She was about to attempt her sensory perception when her question was answered.
"Ino, are you in?" Shikamaru.
Shit. Oh, shit. She'd forgotten their meeting, and also, she was in no condition to deal with him and whatever 'urgent' matter he wished to discuss- -more often than not, his level of urgency didn't coincide with hers. She wasn't confident enough to face him in pajamas, so she molded her chakra and used a henge to disguise herself as, well, herself in her usual uniform and ponytail and of course, her radiant skin and flawless make-up.
Another bout of insistent knocks. "Ino? Hey, Ino!"
"Here!" She twisted the doorknob. "Don't beat my door in!"
"We were supposed to meet forty minutes ago." To her surprise, Shikamaru pushed open the door without waiting for her to open it and brushed her aside as he came in. "Why didn't you show up? You said you'd be there."
"What's wrong with you?"
"This is such a drag." They stood facing each other in the foyer. He loomed over her with hunched shoulders and exhausted eyes. She smelled acrid cigarette smoke on him; he'd had one on his way over, the sneak, and her heart rolled in her chest. Master Asuma… "Listen. A message arrived at the Hokage Tower. Chouji and Karui are set to arrive this weekend. Ino," and he locked his eyes with hers, as they had been averted, "they're married."
She stood in front of him and didn't change expression, didn't react, her mask secured in place. "I…already know."
"You know? How…?"
"So you haven't heard." The mask remained smooth, unmarred. She had more practice at lying than he did. "They rushed to beat the news. They actually visited me at the shop this afternoon."
A long pause drew out in silence as Shikamaru studied her. He didn't narrow his eyes or lean toward her or even inflect his voice, but she saw his mind as it analyzed her every feature, her breathing, any bat of her eyelashes. He was privy to some of her innermost insecurities. A true teammate, he'd come to warn her so she could get out any bad reaction about the news she may have. "Are you okay?"
She smiled. "I'm fine. Daddy didn't need me at the shop, so I got to come home early."
"Yet you didn't come meet me." He continued to search for a negative reaction, for any hint of tears or whiff of pain. "Why?"
"I'm sorry I forgot! I'm handling the invites for their party. I guess I got caught up in it and didn't notice the time."
He relaxed his posture ever so slightly. "Are you sure you're all right? I thought I heard something before you opened the door."
"You caught me right out of the shower," she said and laughed, unable to plan a more perfect distraction to scare him away. "You seemed pretty impatient, so I used a quick henge instead of dressing."
His reaction was priceless- -an exaggerated grimace. "Ugh. You're standing here naked?" And as she predicted he would, he did an about-face and reopened the door to let himself out. "Don't tell me about it. I think I hear Temari swearing at me from home. I'll see you later."
"Yeah, see you."
Behind her closed door, Ino giggled at Shikamaru and dropped the jutsu. Envelopes and bills stacked on the end table cut her humor short. She'd have to sort them; hopefully none were overdue. Without much interest, she rifled through some: water, electricity, advertisement, advertisement…a blue envelope, different from the others, piqued her interest. The return address was the Family Life and Domestic Affairs Office. Hm. Why would they send her anything?
She wiggled her finger under the flap, but a sudden chill stopped her. Wave after wave of goose pimples rippled on her skin. Her apartment zoomed away; she had a bird's-eye view of Konoha, of each of the clan squares, of the civilians and shinobi who walked as tiny as ants in the streets, but who, each day, wove the beautiful pattern in the village life. With a clarity she'd never had before, she had the next thought: If I open this envelope, my life changes forever. The envelope dropped from her nerveless fingers and slapped on the tile. Kneeling, she passed her hand over where it lay, business-like and drab. She was not psychic. She was not psychic, but the information in the letter would change her life. For good? Or for bad?
By the gods, what does it contain?
She let it lie on the floor, a venomous mamushi coiled for a long wait, and like a coward, she ran away. Swaddling herself in a blanket from the sofa, she reclined back on the soft cushions and picked up her current novel. As her eyes scanned the text, her interest in the story waned; her thoughts returned over and over to the envelope on the entryway floor. What should she do? She could not handle any new challenges or fresh anguish in her life. Not after the day she'd had. Tomorrow, she promised herself, tomorrow she'd open the envelope and face it head-on.
Her mind separated out and contained the anxiety, so she could concentrate on the novel. The headache bothered her still- -not enough for her to feel sick from it. While the hot bath had caused her to feel sleepy earlier, she was wide awake and restless. Time drifted. An hour or two might have passed, maybe more. When her front door opened, startling her, she jolted and dropped her book.
"Oy, Ino!" Takahino called. He cast his voice to the furthest reaches of her apartment. "Are you alive?"
"Yes, I'm here," she answered and peeked over the back of the couch. Takahino carried a cloth bag on his shoulder. The most delicious, savory smells emanated from whatever was in it. Her stomach growled. "Is that food?"
"Yep. Miso soup from Mom," he replied and set aside the bag to take off his boots. "There are some other goodies, too. Everyone sends their love."
He stood and she watched as he lifted the blue envelope from the floor and set it with other mail on the table. It had been nothing to him, a minor hiccup in his step. "I have strict instructions to stay with you until bedtime, and then I have to make a report to your father. I hope you realize what a pain you are!"
"What else is new?" She made room for him on the sofa. "I hear about it every day from Shikamaru."
"Seriously though, how are you feeling?" He pinned her with intelligent green eyes; he resumed unpacking the bag. Out came a large container full of soup, rice balls, and some sweet buns, comfort food galore. Takahino opened the container of soup. "I didn't think you owned any ratty clothes."
"As you can see, I do, in fact, own ratty clothes." She accepted a paper bowl, steaming with scrumptious soup, and a bamboo spoon from him. "Do you plan to heckle me the entire evening?"
"Not the entire evening. Oh, by the way! Have you heard the big news?" He stirred some fried crispy bits into his broth. "Chouji and Karui are in town."
Please, no, not this again. She composed her face as she sipped the soup, but she'd since lost her appetite for it. "I heard. They came to the shop today."
"I'm guessing our clan heads will be throwing a big, loud, drunk party." Takahino's eyes crinkled as he laughed. For no clear reason whatsoever, his presence grated on her last nerve and she wanted him to leave. "It'll be one for the ages…of such legendary renown we may have to involve the current and past Hokages."
"That's…a big party."
"We're a big family." He tilted his head. "Are you okay? You're awful quiet."
"Sleepy," which was a lie, she was wired.
They ate and talked about nothing important, and Ino, who adored her cousin, wished for him to go home. After dinner, she faked her headache as worse than it was (which wasn't hard to do) and crawled into bed early, forcing Takahino to make his farewells and leave. Once he was out of the apartment, Ino did attempt to sleep or at least doze, but despite her best efforts, she could not calm her mind. What's inside the envelope? What is the meaning of my memory loss and loneliness? Why am I so upset? Giving up the ghost, she climbed back out of bed, and as she was skilled in self-entertainment, discovered a veritable laundry list of chores to do around the apartment which killed the hours and hours before dawn.
A/N: Does Ino open the envelope? What do you think? I may torture you- -sweet, sweet torture. Leave me some love in the review section, and I'll see you again before you know it!