A/N: Welcome back to another fresh chapter, dear readers and lurkers. A slightly shorter chapter this week. Please enjoy!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She was cold, hot, cold, hot, and dreams plagued her- -one by one the people she loved turned their backs and left her forever...jaguars and wolves chased her, devoured her in huge toothy gulps...she sank into a dense, blank fog, never to be seen again...
Once, Sai and Kiba were in an argument. They stood close together near an ajar door; they had attempted, and failed, to whisper. Kiba spoke loudly, rapidly and Sai responded in cooler terms. What they said was beyond her comprehension, she heard their tones but not the exact words they said. She made a weak movement, and they noticed she was awake and ceased the conversation. Sai knelt beside her, lips compressed, and soon after, she drifted and forgot.
The dampened cloth arranged on her forehead and eyelids felt good, sapped at the heat and the vertigo, but the vertigo lingered like a moldy stain on a wall. Feebly, she groped around for whoever was with her. The brush of a sleeve. Whoever-it-was clasped her hand, a small mercy. Her whole body ached, especially her head, and she ignored miserable tears. I'm not going to cry. I won't do it. I refuse…
"How do you feel?"
Sai's soft, level voice ruined her dry eyes. "Danger," she whispered. Throat blistered and lips cracked, she made herself continue. "Seal…a trap…"
"In Takeshita's mind?"
"Yes." She sobbed from the effort, the sobbing caused a cascade of pain to rush through her, and she clenched Sai's hand for some semblance of relief. Worse than the bodily agony was the anguish from doubt and suspicion. Against the backdrop of her eyelids, the Yamanaka seal burned blue-white, and the pelt-smooth signature touched her skin; none of the family had that kind of signature. Who could use our family's hidden technique? "Danger…"
"You don't have to worry. Yer safe, Ino-girl." Kiba spoke from her other side. "We weren't sure enough about yer health to travel with you."
She must speak to Grandma, anyone. An outsider had knowledge of their clan's hidden technique. This was a disaster, a catastrophe of apocalyptic proportions, the end of her clan's reputation for secret-keeping, the beginning of disgrace and ruin. Yes, she had to tell Grandma of the breach. Nothing should stop her. Nothing would stop her.
"I can travel," she said.
Both Kiba and Sai were silent, and she heard their disbelief in the extensive silence.
They doubted her? She batted off the cloth. They were in the guesthouse, still in Hinokoku, still many hours from Konoha. Sai must be the black blobby form to her right, whereas Kiba was a green-gray blob a few feet to the left. Her eyes seemed to lose further focus as her abrupt movement infuriated sore muscles. Heat spiked and swelled. She panted through the pain, the unchecked tears drowned her. I don't care how much it hurts, we have to leave. I must warn my clan. Sai and Kiba shared a look before Sai settled a hand on her chest just below the hollow of her throat.
"You're very weak," he said. Those liquid black eyes flashed with anxiety. "We must be careful so we don't worsen your condition."
Hot anger lashed out in her defense. "I'm not a fucking porcelain doll! Get me off the floor and fly me home, this instance!" Then she screamed inarticulately and writhed because tensing her muscles had been the exact wrong thing to do. Sweat beaded her brow, moistened her spine and shoulders. A loud buzz filled her ears as her vision contracted at the edges. She continued to pant.
"Yer being stubborn and stupid," Kiba said, his upset articulated through insults. "No way we're movin' you 'til yer hurt goes down and that's final."
Dragging air into her lungs, she clung to consciousness. Their defiance incited her to action, and with a wild shriek, she tossed aside Sai's hand and flipped to her stomach. In one determined push, she managed to get to her wobbly knees and after a second, she climbed to her feet. The pain nettled her, trembled and rampaged inside her, and the vertigo swung back in full force. Her fury fueled her. "I swear on my clan's shrine I'll turn your brains to mush!"
Before she could take a single step, she lost the struggle and blacked out. Minutes or hours elapsed, she didn't keep track. When she woke, she was flat on her back under a blanket. Sunlight peeked around the cracks of the blinds in the windows of the guesthouse, but she couldn't tell whether it was morning or afternoon or even how long she'd been unconscious. Every muscle radiated pain, her eyes were gritty, and a desert had formed in her mouth.
Kiba was reclined next to her, eyes closed, his slow and steady breathing indicated a restful sleep- -he looked exhausted, utterly spent. Sai was absent. Though a fire raged hell in her temples, she wiggled a tiny bit, and found she wasn't afflicted with the excruciating total-body pain like she expected. Near at hand was a tray with a glass of water and a covered plate. Water. Yes. Anything to quench the fire in her head, to slake the dryness in her throat. With special care, she leaned on an elbow and reached for the water. Her entire body shook with the strain of it, and when she gripped the glass, it was impossible to bring to her mouth. Desperate for a drink, she slumped over with a groan.
"You could've asked for help, idiot," said Kiba. He'd sat up, and in a tender motion, had her clutched to his chest, her head cradled in a large, strong hand. The water was in his other hand, tipping toward her lips. "Not too fast."
Greedy and dried out as a fish on land, she took long pulls of water, the liquid cool and as necessary as air, until he removed the glass from her mouth. "Enough. Don't wanna make you toss cookies. We'll wait and see and if you keep it down, we'll feed you."
"Head hurts," she murmured, weak as a newborn kitten. "Hot."
He tested her forehead with a palm and hissed. "Tch. Yer temperature's up. I don't like this fever." Holding her tight, he rocked her. "Something's messed with you, Ino-girl."
Folded to his chest like this brought wonderful memories to her febrile mind, times when he'd carried her into the bedroom, when he let her snuggle into his arms, and when he gazed at her with such frantic love in his eyes she was torn to pieces. She'd forgotten his touch, his warmth, the rough voice goading her. And without provocation, the violent snarls and slash of his nails and the punch which cracked ribs and sternum shredded those dozy daydreams. Here I am, remember me?
Shuddering, she whimpered and struggled in the throes of bitter, bitter traumatic pain. Blooms of black unfurled in her vision. Kiba released her to her sleeping mat, not before sorrow drooped his shoulders, and a wet plop hit her flush face while he tucked the blanket around her.
She must have slept and her dreams manifested the Yamanaka main house. The furniture and the hallway lined with bedroom doors were the same, forever the same, and she expected her family behind the doors, but each time she went into a bedroom, no one was present. No explanation for it, only the rise of panic and mocking horror, cold and awful in her blood and heart, peals of laughter in her ears. The entire house was empty, the entire square deserted, and when she sprinted along Konoha's avenues- -Is anyone there? Hello? Anyone?- -she found the village was empty. Not a soul. Not a single soul…
A sharp pain lanced into her chest, a sword blade right in the sweet spot of her heart, and as she clutched at the mortal wound, a scream ripped out of her throat.
She bolted awake.
At first she didn't recognize the darkened room. She shivered, sweat greasy cold on her skin, and took in her surroundings, her hand on her thigh where a holster ought to be but wasn't. Her bedsheets were in tangles, her hair strewn and matted, the hospital gown twisted. Pulse loud and erratic, she yanked a plain white curtain, and it revealed the nighttime lights and buildings of Konoha. She was home! Her relief stole her breath, and she slid the window open to inhale the familiar scent of her village. She was home; she was safe. Things would be fine now. The door to her room cracked, a bright light spilled in, and a white uniformed nurse entered.
"Miss Yamanaka, is everything okay?" she asked. She fussed with Ino's IV, bedding, and pillow. No heart monitor, at least, to tattle on her. "Are you in any pain?"
"No. No pain, but soreness," Ino answered. "When was I admitted?"
The nurse smiled. "Tut-tut, Miss Yamanaka. Time for your questions later. Try to sleep, and if you feel any pain, use your call button, okay? Good night."
"Thank you. Good night."
Ino was too keyed up to try sleeping, so she stared out of the window, disappointed she couldn't see the moon. She'd lost all sense of time; perhaps the moon was in its new phase. Gazing instead at the pinprick stars, she thought about the mission, how Kiba and Sai were, when they'd decided to conclude the mission, and how it was possible an outsider knew a hidden clan technique. The desire to answer questions was a strong one, but not as strong as her body and mind's need for uninterrupted rest. Sleep eventually did steal over her.
The next morning, she awoke ravenous and was served a hearty breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, fruit and orange juice were devoured in quick succession, and as she lay in distended bliss, Sakura swooped in, green eyes bright, her white lab coat snug on her shoulders, pink hair as mussed as usual.
"Good morning! Glad to see you're awake," she chirruped. She unhooked the clipboard at the foot of Ino's bed and read it over. "How're you feeling today?"
"Lucky to be alive."
"I'll say," Sakura sat on the bed and patted Ino's leg. "You were every kind of wrong when Sai and Kiba brought you in the day before yesterday. You looked like a corpse, and for the first time, I think Sai was freaked out."
"Just a fever and chakra exhaustion. No biggie."
Sakura twisted her mouth. "Uh, no, it wasn't 'just' anything. You had some major healing done to your system within the last week, presumably done yourself, and I doubt you were fully recovered when you took further damage. Your temperature was 103 degrees." Those intelligent green eyes were fixed on Ino. "What the hell happened to you?"
"You know how it goes," Ino replied, opting for a smooth deflection. "Shit happens. I consider myself fortunate to have had Kiba and Sai with me. They saved my bacon."
Sakura pinched Ino's cheek. "And it's such cute bacon, Ino-pig. Seriously though," she moved her hand to stroke Ino's hair, gleaming gold, "plan to stay at least until tomorrow morning. We're not about to let you relapse, so we're being extra careful."
"I feel fine."
"Good for you, but you're staying. Doctor's orders," Sakura said. "Also, Kiba has pestered me morning, noon, and night for updates on your condition. You want him to visit you? You've been on a break, or you said you were last we talked."
Since they were off the mission, Ino had time and inclination to think about her and Kiba's recent drama, and had it been almost a month? He told her he loved her; she wasn't sure. He offered to marry her to save her from a worse match; she couldn't inflict pain and unhappiness on him. He had attacked out of love for her and made a dreadful mistake in so doing. Ino dropped her eyes to her lap. "Has he said he's wanted to visit?"
"He seemed anxious to see you, but didn't outright say anything. Did...something happen? Between the two of you, I mean."
"Sakura, listen. I'm sorry I snapped at you when we talked last." The conversation she referred to had occurred weeks ago when they worked night shifts together, but Ino had not crossed paths with Sakura since, and why not apologize for it when now seemed like a good time to change the subject. "It was wrong of me to push you away when you were trying to help me. I'm...I've been confused about Kiba for a long time. I don't know if I love him, but I care enough about him to desire a happy future for him, even if it means I'm not with him."
Sakura enveloped Ino's hands with hers and gave them an encouraging squeeze. "You don't have to apologize. Anyway, I pushed you too hard, and I shouldn't have done it. I was...also in pain over someone I love being gone and...picked a fight with you."
She meant Sasuke, naturally.
"Tch. Men are so troublesome," Ino said, and as soon as they realized what she'd said, she and Sakura laughed until tears rolled down their faces. "I mean it, forehead. This marriage and babies nonsense is for the birds. We ought to start a counterculture movement, you and me. We have a right to our own lives! Aren't we badass bitches?"
Sakura paused a moment, a faint blush rose on her cheeks, and her eyes went distant. Ino sighed and said, "Of course you want marriage and babies with Sasuke." So disgustingly adorable and predictable she almost hated it.
"At this point, I'd take either one or the other."
Ino quirked her mouth. "C'mon, accept my standing offer. You hold him in place and I get inside his head. I can't think of a more sure-fire way to lock him into marriage...or the other thing."
"For heaven's sake! We're not forcing him!" Sakura grimaced. "And ew! I better not think about you in possession of Sasuke's body in the middle of sex."
"Don't pretend," Ino said with a saucy wink. "You've considered it. Besides, you've waited long enough for him to get his shit together. It's obvious he won't change his mind, so why's he cagey about marriage? Children, yeah, but marriage?"
"I can't pressure him. He'll decide when he's ready, and I'll wait for his decision."
"Meanwhile, you turn into a withered old prude. I honestly don't understand how you can wait for weeks at a time for sex. Committed relationships are the pits."
"Really, Ino-pig, sex does not make the world go round." Sakura chuckled at Ino's scandalized gasp and stood from the bed. "Get your rest. I'll be by later to check in, and I'll tell Kiba to wait until you're discharged to see you."
"Thanks, Dr. Brow. Have fun saving everyone's lives, per usual."
When Sakura left, the emptiness of the room shrank closer. She had nothing to do except wait and think and wait and worry and think and nap, not precisely in that order. Today, the sky was clear and bright, cloudless. Shikamaru would have nothing to look forward to when he got off from work, and Chouji better have been eating enough vegetables for his meals and not one bag of potato chips after another. Always her thoughts circled like vultures around the Yamanaka technique and the chakra signature from the unknown shinobi. She would get no peace should she delay a warning to Grandma. She considered a dramatic escape through the window, but Sakura would not hesitate to chase her and throttle her into submission, so that idea was out. A letter? The stand next to her bed had a drawer and in the drawer (when she investigated) was a pad of paper and a pen.
What should she say? You couldn't write 'Our family secrets have been discovered and used in connection with a murder case.' Stumped, she tapped the pen on the paper. She thought of Sai and the tiny ink mice nestled in her hand. He'd be curled in the corner, scroll spread across his thighs, absorbed in his sketches, unobtrusive. The image of him, of his black hair and black outfit, the caress of the ink-cool chakra, was vivid enough she jumped when the door suddenly opened.
"Miss Yamanaka, you're awake, or so say the cheerful birdies in the village," said someone unwelcome. "You had me worried beyond reason. My poor heart can't take the palpitations you cause it."
Tall and as beautiful as a marble statue, Miyazato Seiichi glided into the room, black hair a glossy curtain, smoke eyes cunning and amused, the white lock of hair curvaceous along the side of his face. The abrupt appearance of the man shocked her into speechlessness. Her mouth opened and closed in undignified mimicry of a guppy. But her disbelief whipped into irritation the next moment.
"How did you get past the nurses? I'm to have no visitors," she said as he sat on the bed, in the same spot as Sakura had this morning. The long legs crossed at the knee, and he seemed so completely at ease, it further aggravated her. "I'll have a relapse without adequate rest."
"I am quite offended," Miyazato said. He smiled and covered his heart with a hand, like he was taken aback. "No hello? Not even a 'Glad to see you'? Perhaps you're overcome with emotion and fail to realize what you're saying."
"Well?"
"I find overworked nurses can be bribed with chocolate and coffee," he answered. "They said, and I quote, 'Miss Yamanaka wouldn't mind a visit from a dashing, charming man such as yourself'. Aren't nurses wonderful?"
From behind her eyes, a wretched pang shot backwards like lightning, and worried about a migraine, she sought to conclude their conversation. "My answer is no. I'm not marrying you."
Miyazato looked at her, the strange gold earrings heavy on his lobes, and maintained a quiet smirk on his mouth she detested. "You're very grumpy this morning."
"I've had a time of it, yes. Anyone would be grumpy," she responded. "You're a shinobi, you should understand the circumstances. And not to be rude," although she was about to be, "but you take up too much energy. Please leave."
The smirk spread into a blazing grin. "Why, Miss Yamanaka! I love your compliments to a gentleman of my caliber." She hadn't seen it happen, but her hand was in his and he leaned to kiss her knuckles. "I hope to expend a considerable amount of your energy soon."
She did not like the change in tone his voice took and tugged her hand from his grip. "What do you mean?"
"I don't wish to spoil the surprise, dearest pet. Ah, look at the time." He wore no watch and no clock was hung in the room. "I wanted to pop by and ensure everything was well. I see you are in capable hands," he said and stood, flicking his hair over his shoulder. "Go ahead and rest, my darling. You must look your most divine tomorrow. Good day."
Off he was out the door before she could interrogate him, the insufferable man. Too late she thought to use chakra sensory to see his chakra signature, but the next time she was around him, she'd use it. She reached for the pad and pen, wrote a quick note to Grandma and another to Uncle Ibiki, saying the matter was urgent and she requested an immediate audience with them, regardless of what the nurses might say. The on-duty nurse would have envelopes and access to a messenger box, so they were sure to be delivered the same day.
Then she fell against her pillow, worn out. As she lay in bed, the pain behind her eyes was a dull ache, nothing she couldn't heal with her medical chakra. A breeze fluttered the curtain. Her mind revolved on her family's technique in Isao's head, how it connected to Shijo's case, and she couldn't brush the thoughts aside. A pressure materialized on her chest, a great weight which pinned her flat as a pancake, and she was unable to shift it an inch.
The nurse set lunch in front of her, brought envelopes, took her notes to be sent. Ino ate and waited and thought and waited.
Day lengthened into night, and neither Grandma nor Uncle Ibiki visited her. Fresh anxiety stole across her mind. Had she used unclear language in her notes? She ought to talk to Sakura about an early discharge, but Sakura couldn't swing by as she'd been needed for an unforeseen emergency. The nurse did not provide further details. Though Ino was given medication, she stared at the ceiling, restless, with an itch to solve the identity of the unknown shinobi with the pelt-smooth chakra signature. When she did sleep, it was broken with dreams of Master Asuma's warm blood on her hands, the sound of her father's voice in her mind for the last time, the bodies scattered on the battlefield, torn to shreds and soaked in pools of sticky blood. She grasped at the dead, but her hands passed through, and then when she tried to call for help from her friends, her family, they did not respond- -they didn't see her and again, when she tried to touch them, her hands passed through. And she understood. She was the dead one.
Dread contracted a tight fist around her, and stifling a scream, Ino woke, steeped in a cold sweat, breathing and heartbeat rapid. Faint light along the horizon of the sky preceded the dawn of a new day, and Ino did not attempt to close her eyes to doze. Today she would be free; she could talk to Grandma or Uncle Ibiki about her fears, everything would be fine. She waited for breakfast, ate as best she could on a rebellious stomach, and she waited for Sakura, who followed breakfast. They bantered like they did as Sakura gave her a thorough examination.
"Before I leave, you have a, uh, gentleman caller who would like to see you," Sakura said. Ino could tell she bit back a grin. "He's...quite an interesting person. Says you're his beloved fianceé?"
Miyazato, you arrogant son of a bitch. "Don't believe anything he says. What does he want?"
"He says it's a surprise and to not tell you." Her lips twitched in the struggle to keep a straight face. "I think you'll be surprised. I'll show him in. Don't go anywhere."
Ino felt faint. "Sakura, wait. Why did he approach you?"
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "The nurses told him you were on my caseload. He said he'd like to make sure you could be surprised and to ask permission to arrange it. And let me say, your mind will be blown."
"So, you saw what it was?" Ino should not press her luck, but Miyazato was not to be trusted; her instincts nattered at her, but what should she do? Run around Konoha in a hospital gown, barefoot? No. Better to stay put and gather information from Miyazato. "The man is, like, a shipping magnate worth millions. You keep your hands off, forehead. He's all mine."
"Pfft. You can have him. He's much too aristocratic for my tastes. Enjoy."
The second the door closed, Ino drew chakra from her coils and concentrated it into her sensory technique. Faint flickers surrounded her- -civilians; stronger signatures in a myriad of textures were more sporadic in the floors of the hospital from both regular shinobi and medics. A crowd of signatures clustered in the hallway, and before she could wonder at it, purposeful footsteps approached her door. Whoever it was had suppressed his chakra, so a shinobi, but one who didn't bother to approach undetected. What in the world…?
She released the technique as Miyazato burst into her room. "Good morning! Gracious, we have much to do and little time." He strode toward her, his gestures flapped his teal sleeves like flags. From behind him streamed in five people of various appearances and genders. "Up, up, and up, dearest darling! We have an appointment to keep."
Ino remained abed, regarding Miyazato and others with cool appraisal. "I would like an explanation, please."
"They are the surprise, love. These professionals will help you with your attire and toilette. They are the best of the best, at least by Konoha standards. You shall wear a beautiful dress with beautiful accessories and have beautifully styled hair and make-up."
"Thank you, but I can dress and style myself." She narrowed her eyes. "Why go through the expense…" A terrifying sequence of thoughts occurred to her: 'beloved fianceé, an appointment, stylists. Only one reason those three would go together. "Miyazato, have you…did you…?"
He arched his eyebrows. "Schedule a photo shoot for our engagement pictures? Yes, obviously. We are getting married, after all."
Unbidden, her hands clenched in the bedcovers as her temper spat and sizzled under the surface. She'd ignored the nagging headache in favor of an expedient physical exam and discharge, but the pulsations increased in pain by degrees the longer she remained in Miyazato's claustrophobic presence. Inhaling slow, measured breaths, she said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you. I won't dress for engagement photos or consent to marry you. Please leave, everyone."
Miyazato stared at her. Then he turned to the stylists. "Wait in the next room," he said, tone whispery. "We'll be with you in a moment."
"Yes, Mr. Miyazato." They ducked their heads as they shuffled out. The door closed, and Ino had Miyazato to herself, alone, not a single soul to support her.
"Your stubbornness ceases to charm me," he said. His attitude toward her altogether shifted into a superior, more contemptuous light. "I suppose it's to be expected with your...independent sensibilities, but your clan expects otherwise." He stalked nearer, withdrawing a folded parchment from inside his teal haori; she snatched it from his hand to peruse the contents. "Our marriage is a done deal. You'll find the choice is no longer yours to make."
As she read the jumbled print, air left her lungs. Blood drained from her face, the headache speared her brain, and her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out what remained of Miyazato's speech. In her tremulous hands was a contract between her clan and Miyazato for an arranged marriage; this document functioned as the license forthwith. The clan would consider no other marriage offers for Ino during the engagement period. A ceremony was to be completed at Miyazato's discretion. Thereafter, the marriage would be permanent. Ino's thoughts nitpicked and chased ideas, a mad scramble for escape, by the gods, the cage door had slammed shut and she hadn't seen it. She hadn't seen it.
See, I told you so, Tsunade said, no amusement or pleasure in the statement. I warned you about an arranged marriage. You foolish, arrogant girl. You should have married Kiba.
By the gods. She must escape his cage; she'd run somewhere, anywhere, and disappear. Miyazato's weight shifted the bed; he was practically in her lap. The contents of her stomach threatened her with retroperistalsis. Her captor stretched out an arm to brace himself as his face filled her vision. Pressure on her guts, her chest, walls tipping inwards, a force gathered in her mind, she couldn't think but to search for an escape. The open window...she could surprise him with a jutsu and dash for safety.
"How the gears in your mind whirl and clatter," he said. A grin with catlike teeth leered at her. The pupils in his eyes were vertical slits, his nails were extended, knife-like, and dug into her cheeks when he took a firm grip on her chin. "But I've anticipated you. You are such a sweetheart in this town, did you know? Everyone says Miss Ino is generous and kind and happy. So many innocent people who rely on the protection of so few shinobi. Take this hospital, for instance. If you were to, say, escape through a window, what would happen to all the nurses and patients? Those lovely people in the next room here to do a job? Hm?"
Ino was prey caught in a predator's hypnotic glare. Miyazato's threat was obvious- -her escape meant dead innocents. "You'd be killed before you could ever get away."
"Oh, naive little pet," he said, his breath a hot rush in the inch of space between them, "in this case, survival isn't the point. The point is to kill as many people as possible for maximum devastation. I ask you, do you dare it? Do you dare to call my bluff? Or will you behave yourself and do what I wish to save your precious villagers?"
No possible choice was left to her. No outlet, no chance to escape. "I'll obey."
No chance to escape, yet. Master Asuma was nearby, cigarette smoke a wreath around his broad shoulders, telling her sometimes surrender is the best escape plan until a better plan presents itself.
"A good answer from a good pet," Miyazato crooned and released her jaw. He looked human again. The change had come and gone so quickly Ino believed she imagined it. "Let's conclude these distasteful unpleasantries. Come along, you're expected next door. And remember," he said as she forced herself to stand, "lives depend on you."
A/N: I think some of you may begin to see some interesting developments, no? I'm having a blast, you guys, and I hope you are too. See you again next week, same time!