II.
She has always loved beautiful things for as far as she can remember and Konoha Central was the hub of all things pretty.
"Don't stay out for long!" Her mother shouted from the kitchen when she ran out, hastily adjusting the daisy that was tucked securely in her hair. "And don't run on the streets, Ino!"
"I wouldn't!" was her shout over her shoulder. She was late already so she couldn't afford to not run.
There were so many things she could list out– so many reasons why she loved Konoha Central.
Beautiful gardens – flowers there reminded her of the garden back home, made her feel safe.
Swings allowed her to have the most fun in her life, never not lifting her spirits. That's why they were her among favourites.
And the sunlight, the warmth that lightens up the world, on her face made her feel like a flower herself. And she loved flowers.
Konoha Central was like a second home– to her and many kids her age.
Her footsteps slowed down when she crossed the gates and felt her mood drop a little.
She had gotten late. The swings were already occupied and she always only came for swings. Always wait for your turn, Ino. Park belongs to everyone. Her mother's words. Apparently simply being an heiress – a princess – couldn't get her everything in the world, no matter how fairy tale books say otherwise.
But lately, she's been allowed to visit places on her own – A good kunoichi is one who is brave and strong enough to hold her own, her father had said when she had asked who a kunoichi was– but that came with rules– curfew at 6, no trespassing the grounds of other clans, and no picking fights – rules that she was sure she would have no problem abiding under normal circumstances.
Something purple caught her eye and she was entranced.
Moreover, she had no reason to break the rules.
She was surrounded by colours.
That was how she found herself in the civilian grounds of the Konoha Central today. It wasn't her fault moreover– that particular Purple Emperor was too pretty, most purple she has ever seen, she wanted to have it. She lost the sight of the pretty butterfly when she misstepped over a pebble though.
By the time she realized her blunder, she was lost. Lost in the middle of 500 acres – the size of Konoha Central, as she has been told by her father.
She blinked and had only begun to look around when something red caught her eye. Then green. Blue. Yellow. And many colours unveiled. Her jaw dropped and heart fluttered.
Fear didn't engulf her at the knowledge that she was lost and her parents would be so mad, something she would worry about much later, after she was done adoring, quite possibly, the most colourful swings she had ever seen! One that was unoccupied too. Lucky.
Best. Day. Ever. A loud squeal broke from her and then she was running towards it.
Had she stayed a little longer to explore her surroundings, she would not have missed the flash of pink amongst the fresh bushes. Or the footsteps which followed after the pink.
Do you know, if you see a purple butterfly, it means you'll soon be meeting a very important person in your life?
She was soon rescued.
It took a police officer, a very stubborn police officer – because she wanted to stay longer on those pretty swings – to get her back on the Yamanaka grounds of the park. He supposed he was a nice man too. She made him pinky promise that he wouldn't tell anyone about her little escapade because it was also the most fun adventure she had. He had agreed instantly.
She would never know that the slight crinkle in her father's eyes was not at the gesture that she brought him a flower, one she plucked from one of the bushes in the park. One which only grew in the civilian side of the park. One where she apparently didn't venture off into.
...
The next time she went to the park – now more mindful of her surroundings and quite careful to be discreet – she managed to reach the colourful kingdom all on her own, without any butterfly distracting her or any pebble tripping her.
The park was packed with children but she managed to secure herself a place in the swings.
She was happily swinging back and forth, up and down, towards the sky and ground when a voice interrupted.
"Um... Excuse me..?" She looked at the girl from her position in the air. Her hair was pink – pink like those cotton candies she hated to taste but loved to look at – and her face concealed behind the veil of pink. She couldn't see properly but she could have sworn she saw something blue, black or green. Or maybe all three.
"What do you want?" Perhaps it was her loud voice or that irritated bite in her words because of the winds and her hair that constantly assaulted her face, but the girl flinched as though it was a physical blow.
"Ah...um...can I have the swing...and play for some time, please?" Her voice was very soft that she almost missed it. But she didn't and she also didn't like the idea of giving up her seat one bit.
"I don't want to! Go play somewhere else!" She refused with a set of glare and pouting lips.
"I'll leave soon, I promise." She seemed to fiddle with the hem of her shirt, it was two sizes too big on her small frame.
"I want to play a little longer though... Can't you come later?" She raised a brow when she got no response from the girl immediately.
"I can't...they will be here," She thought she heard her say but it was too soft to be sure among the chatter of children.
She didn't miss how her small shoulders slumped too when she left.
She told herself she wasn't sorry.
...
For some reason, no one stopped or punished her for disregarding the rule. Maybe it was because she always looked happy and they didn't want to spoil it for her, or maybe because she was the daughter of the Yamanaka clan head, but she never got into trouble.
While it was a good sign, it didn't excite her.
For the entire week, she later went there, she had seen flashes of pink from the corner of her eyes. It drove her crazy.
It reminded her of that little pink girl and how she had denied her.
So like some sort of punishment, she sometimes would stop the swing and deny herself the fun by just sitting on one of the nearby benches and watch.
...
Next time she saw the pink-haired girl– actually saw her and not just flashes– she wished she hadn't.
It was accidental that she saw the girl again. She was strolling casually, peering at the colourful little flowers that decorated the sides of the trail, during which she heard a noise. It was a small noise, one she might have missed but didn't.
So she looked past the bushes, her body hidden behind a tree, and stilled.
She had always known from the first sight of that pink-haired girl that she was small – smaller than herself despite both seemingly being around the same age – and weak.
She bit into her lower lip.
Seeing her now, curled up, little ahead of her, and bark biting onto her back as she shifted back – shaking – against the trunk of the tree, she felt a foreign feeling well into her gut. She continued to watch as a taller girl – also a civilian but older by few years – blocked the view of the girl and – by the sound of pained cries and the position – grabbed a fistful of her pink bangs.
Her whimpers and cries of protest were ignored. She felt a sickness settle in her stomach and suddenly was overwhelmed with the urge to move, to flee, but she remained. The girl was so weak. She needed help.
She wanted to help but don't get involved in any fight reverberated in her mind.
From where she stood, she could make out the wounds that littered across her arms and a black eye along with 'Freak' written over her forehead. Suddenly her timid behaviour made sense.
She had her eyes locked on the girl when abruptly she looked in her direction.
"S-Stop...p...plea...se..." Green looked so blue under the sunlight.
She wasn't sure what she did or saw – everything seemed to blur around the edges – but her body moved on its own.
She looked around – what exactly was she looking for? – and her eyes brightened as she found the object. Something clicked. She couldn't stop herself. Dread gripped her over what she was about to do.
Big enough to hurt but small enough to reach. The thought seemed to burn her mind.
"Sorry...not sorry."
With a burst of explosive power, she hurled the rock at the towering girl's direction and ran like the devil was on her heels. She didn't even pause to see as if the stone made contact with her head. But from the volume of the cry that tore in the area half a second later, it did, pretty hard too. Serves right.
But guilt churned within her gut.
...
That night, she confessed everything.
"I have been lying to you, mom, dad." She didn't dare open her eyes, but she was aware of the wetness against her cheeks.
There was silence. Dinner ruined.
"I am really–" sorry.
"We know." It was her father, his tone relaxed and kind as always. Her shoulders shook. Of course, they knew.
"What happened, dear?" Her sniffled sobs were the only sounds in the room. She wanted to ask questions and she wanted answers from her father who she knew was the coolest person who had an answer to everything.
"Dad, why do people bully?"
A silence settled. Unable to bear the silence, she tried again.
"Is it true that strong bully weak?" Still, no reply. But this time they exchanged looks. Whatever message they exchanged, her mother understood because she got up and walked over to her hunched form. She didn't look up but felt a kiss placed on her head.
"Hush now, dear flower." Those words left her little breathless. She wanted to cry harder but in the comfort of her arms and chest. Next time maybe.
Her mother left the room - leaving the daughter to his father. Just like the old times when her father didn't use to be as busy as he was lately.
"Dear, what happened?" He asked again. This time the kindness in his voice crashed all of her walls effortlessly and she poured her heart to him. He who patiently held on and listened as she confessed everything she knew and did, his eyes and warm hands never leaving her own.
...
Ino, its is not that those strong bully the weak. It is those who are strong that get bullied. Bullies lack grace and self-control which is why they are violent and aggressive. His explanation had left her more confused.
But she was so weak dad, I saw. She did saw.
But did you see? Did she? She did...right? She remembered how she resisted, how she called for help, all efforts futile but...
Bullies know their weakness and see their weakness reflected as strength in those they bully. Those bullied are often the "too much" children; they are too smart, too pretty, too kind... you cannot justify abuses but when you do, they are excuses and no more. From what you told me, she seems like a very strong child.
...but she never really saw her give up. She was always in the park, somewhere, but always coming back.
But there was another had been guilt that ate her and she felt guilty for feeling guilty.
I only wanted to protect her, dad. I hit another person and she got hurt because of me. She still heard her words and remembered the discomfort that set in her chest.
But you also protected that child, Ino. She was hurting and you helped. Don't let anything convince you otherwise but that you're a hero. His words helped to banish the ache.
Can I be her friend, dad? Can I protect her more? Her face had fallen when he shook his head in negative but his following words caught her breath.
Teach her to protect herself, instead.
So when she came to the park the next day, she decided to look for the girl and seek her friendship.
She looked around everywhere, for any source of pink she had gotten accustomed to seeing around the civilian grounds. Not once she stopped to take a break and go for the swings which beckoned but whose charm was lost on her.
"Pinky!" At one point she shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping the timid girl would hear and come out of her hiding to reveal herself.
That day, she returned home defeated and unhappy for the second time that week but her mother squeezed her shoulder and she was determined once again. Fresh and new.
...
Three days had been passed since that day, but she had yet to see any sign of the girl. Many horrible thoughts attacked her mind – what if she had hurt so badly that she was taken to the hospital? What if the girl she had attacked took out her rage on her? What if her parents denied her to ever step out of the house? – and tears prickled her eyes.
She wanted to at least be able to say sorry for not noticing.
...
She sat by the swings, head cast down. Suddenly she felt lonelier than she had felt in months. Still, she willed herself to swing – back and forth, up and down, even as the dusk coloured the sky.
...
She threw one look at the most colourful wings she had ever laid eyes on but journeyed back home.
Next time she saw the pink-haired girl (whom she had not so long ago decided to call pinky)– after whole two weeks – she wished she hadn't cried as much as she did.
The experience was similar to the last time when she found her getting but the experience was strolling down the trail that followed out into, what she knew was, the Akimichi clan grounds.
She heard a cry, reminiscent to the last encounter, but this cry made her jump over its vicious edge to it.
No.
Her legs pushed her to the direction of the sound, made her brush past the bushes – just like last time – her heart at her throat, vocal cords straining to shout, stop, in case the older girl was again gaining on her friend and ruin her beautiful hair because even as her brain felt like it was set on fire and her speeding heartbeats became the only source of the sound, only one desire remained and seemed to echo past the deafening beats.
She didn't want to see tears dull her green eyes again.
But nothing could have prepared for what she saw.
This cannot be the same girl. Her jaw slacked as she caught an unmistakable flash of pink that connected with the older girl. It was too fast and she would have missed it if she hadn't been looking. The girl was shoved back but pinky didn't waste her time and grasped her head in her small hands and brought her knee in one clean action, there was a blunt crack and the girl howled in a way that made her chest buzz and stomach drop.
She almost took a step back. Almost.
"Y-You brat!" The girl cradled her jaw, her voice firm and venomous even as her lips quivered and eyes watered. She was seized with the need to applaud her for her acting skills because she was sure the blow must've hurt a lot.
"You two! What are you doing there, cowering? Get her!"
It wasn't just her this time? Quickly, she spotted two girls behind pinky, both clinging onto each other. They exchanged cautious looks and threw one at the girl before them, making their minds.
Few moments passed, pinky didn't move from her position and the older girl was still amongst the fallen.
They carefully detached themselves and lunged at the smaller girl at once.
She had difficult time to intercept, between feeling the drying wetness against her cheeks and blurring vision, so when she managed to outrun the older girls – out of the power of sheer will – and stepped into the battle, she didn't waste any time to throw herself at one of the girls.
Someday, when someone asks her how was her first fight, she would be saying – like forgetting how to breathe after being hit by a boulder, because that was how it felt when she felt the wind knocked out of her when her – their – body made contact against the earth, leaving gashes along her arms. She struggled to regain her breaths and ignoring the pain but she didn't let go of the older girl's torso, trying her hardest to keep her down.
A scream tore through the air and she jolted just as she heard a surge of air and saw the other girl make contact with the ground across where they were. She was hiding her left eye and attempted to scramble away, gushing whimpers, unclear words and sobs that rattled her body.
She wanted to look – really look – at pinky, but now was not the time.
"R-Run! Pinky, run, I'll hold them back!" Her voice sounded winded and rough enough to be mistaken for a boy's, but brave words. Her father would have been proud had he heard it.
An immediate rush of searing pain flared throughout her body when her hair was gripped and pulled, eyes burned and watered, the need to pry her grip from her hair was strong but the need to counterattack was stronger so she turned her head and bit into her arm, hard, drawing blood.
"I'll show you fight, freak!" She heard behind her and the sound of scuffle began.
A cry tore through the older girl's throat and she used the time to push herself away to gain distance. She turned and paused.
"Oh and this is for the hair!" She wheeled back and kicked her shin, timely paddling back.
She suddenly had a nagging feeling that she missed something important but she dismissed it to celebrate.
She was distracted over her victory – and the victory celebrated in her head, because, first win against evil forces – so she later realized the punch that zoomed in on her face.
She felt the drop in temperature and the sweat that started to trickle down her neck. One blink and she would be thrown against the bushes. One blink and her nose will bleed and mouth crack. One blink and she would be knocked out and be tortured later.
"No, you don't," said a soft – and steady – voice.
She blinked and saw the oncoming fist stop before her nose at hairsbreadth. A grunt, and smell of something iron and sweet mixed in the air.
Her small back had blocked the view and the punch. She felt her own body sag when she felt the other girl slump to the ground. It happened soon and she missed it all, but she couldn't stop the tears that flooded her eyes.
"Let's go!" She found herself seized by her wrist before her legs could buckle under her and they took off running in the direction from where she came from, pinky's hand warm against her own.
...
She wanted to know her name, where she lived, her favourite colour, and most importantly, why she allowed herself to be bullied when she could fight like that. But even as they stood before the entrance gate of the Yamanaka clan grounds, no one uttered a word.
She found herself unable to meet the other girl's eyes. Maybe it was because of the guilt from the other day when she denied to give up her ride, or maybe it was the nerves that were playing because she finally was going to be face to face to the girl she had been seeking for over two weeks.
Evening birds, their sounds, bridged the silence between them. There was occasionally laughter of children when they rushed past them, into the arms of their parent, but no one acknowledged them and she was glad because she wanted to be ignored, because she had so many things to ask, many more to convey, and she didn't want to be rushed home until she has one reason to.
You're a hero.
But she was brave and heroic so she needed to make a statement so that she could at least be remembered.
"Um, hey, look I am sorry for–" she looked up at the crows, then the sky and then—
"Thank you, Ino." She stilled, though her lips quivered, however words dying out.
She shook her head and again, and then blinked, and blinked again. Because she couldn't stop.
For what? She wanted to ask.
"F-for everything!"
She turned and looked – finally looked – at pinky and realized they had many things in common.
Unkempt hair.
Bruises.
Dirtied clothes.
Smiles.
Daisies in their hair. How could she miss that?
A flash of purple attracted her but she didn't look away.
This time, even as a beautiful Purple Emperor passed between them, she didn't and couldn't shift her gaze away because the tears that welled in both their eyes and smiles that lit their faces made, what she was sure was, the most beautiful picture she probably wouldn't be able to see ever.
They have to part because it was way past the curfew and their moms will be so mad, and they will, but she had a job to make sure it wouldn't be their final.
She took a deep breath in.
"Do you want to join me on swing tomorrow?" She finally managed to ask the question. Crystal clear. No regrets.
Her smile shared the radiance of her own when she said yes.
...
It wasn't until after she reached home that she realized she still hadn't got pinky's name, but she had somehow gotten hers. Doubt nagged her.
But recalling her parting words and smile when she promised to join her on swings, she realized that was least of her worries. Moreover, she's got lifetime worth of time to figure that one out, seeing as they were friends now.
Harder than I thought. I suck at thinking child. Too dramatic. Lacks action. But mushy mushy.
I hope it still managed to hold your interest. Thank you for your support!