A/N: Welcome back, dear readers & lurkers! I hope you're well. Please enjoy a tasty, fresh chappie from me to you!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

And so she sat on the stone bench, losing her mind. It was all about the torture of her emotions as her world flew off axis into the crush of a black hole. The heartbreak was enough to cause anyone to cry, but Ino's tears wouldn't come. Her brain had bigger issues at hand and refused to let her weep to release the agony in her heart. Stuck on the stupid bench, she covered her face to languish in her wretchedness as she tried to think of what to do.

"Ino? Are you ill?"

Of course it was Sai. She didn't answer him, didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge him. Figure it out. Or better yet, leave me the hell alone. He approached without a noise, but his ink-cool aura occupied the bench beside her; she resisted its nepenthe. Hovering on the outskirts of her personal space, he felt as wide-open as the midnight sky. Then he put a hand on her back between the shoulder blades. She stiffened because she sensed the draw of the cave entrance, a pull on her to reveal herself to him, and really, it was addictive what he offered. But she resisted. No. Absolutely not.

She slapped her hands on her thighs and with the Everything's Fine mask fitted on, she said to the moon, "I'm not ill, but I am very tired. I'm going home to rest. You don't have to worry."

The intensity of the look from the perceptive eyes startled her. She thought she should hide from him in an underground bunker, but he was good enough he'd find her wherever she hid. They continued to stare at one another. Ino grew more paranoid with each passing second. Did he see the cracks in the mask? The edges of her reason flaking away? The dress scratched at her and she wanted to rip it off; the necklace was too snug on her throat, the bracelets heavy, the shoes pinched and rubbed. She hated everything and had no escape and the damned pressure worsened by the minute.

He said, "I'll walk you."

No, and also fuck off. "I'm fine by myself."

"You aren't."

She controlled an impulse to stab him because how dare he be so contrary to her will. Petulant, she shrugged away his hand. The imprint it left burned her skin through the dress. "You don't know a thing about it."

"Explain it to me." He cocked his head, withdrawing his arm. Oh, those eyes of his peered into her depths and the cave tugged at her harder. "You can explain while we walk. It'll be more efficient." He fake-smiled at her. "By the way, you've lost your henge. Do another if you don't want people to scream in terror when they see your hideous dress."

What? He had disarmed her so completely, Ino did not know how to react. While she sat in a confused stupor, Sai had stood, and when he noticed she hadn't moved, he took her by the shoulders and brought her to her feet. And inside of that moment, with her inches close to him, their eyes locked together, she yielded to the lure of the cave with the vast stomach of space. Her breath hitched in her lungs; a great floodgate swung wide.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

The fresh hell of her heartbreak broke loose. She lowered her head and burst into a torrent of tears. "Kiba," she croaked. His name blocked her throat and she could say nothing else. "Kiba! Kiba!"

Ino tucked her face into the crook of Sai's neck and curled her fingers into the tough knit of his shirt. She felt Sai fold his arms around her. They were heartbeat to heartbeat. Deeper and deeper she waded into the new world, dispersing the hurt and grief of Kiba's loss, a black-hued miasma which rolled from her outwards. All her huge emotions were allowed here. She settled in the quiet, in the cool, and her lungs expanded with fresh oxygen. Peace infused her. The tears subsided. Confused- -she had believed she'd cry for days and days over Kiba's 'letting go' of her- -she floated along in the dark space. Above her was the moon and he watched her with the twin black pools she had come to recognize.

The moon ruled her. Whispered to her, Show me. In a sweet surrender, she arrayed her vibrant history with Kiba in the cavernous arena, starting with her consolation of him at his father's gravestone, their various spats throughout Academy, missions together when they were genin, after Master Asuma's death when she let Kiba push her to the forest floor and they shared each other for the first time and their successive turmoil and intimacy including Kiba's declaration of love, his offer of marriage, the experience inside Shijo's body as Kiba succumbed to a mindless fury, and finally, the most recent guilt-ridden conversation. She had loved him, but not the way he'd loved her; she could have convinced him to fight Miyazato for her hand in marriage, she could have done so with ease, and though she was selfish, horribly selfish, he did not deserve to be trapped in misery with her. Sometimes you must let go of the ones you love.

But the abandonment hurt.

Milky hands reached from the shadows, caressed her ravaged, wounded heart. At first, she whimpered and winced away because she'd never shown anyone her true feelings for Kiba, and the hands were tangible, her emotions had substance. The hands gingerly soothed the raw laceration and she relaxed as it rubbed the bitterness and loneliness into faded scars. She was released. When she rose to reality, groggy but calm, she felt her feet on the ground, Sai emanating heat with his firm embrace enclosed upon her. The pressure which had weighted her like a stone slab was alleviated- -her cage door had been unlocked temporarily. Exhausted, emptied, she sighed and released her grip on Sai's shirt.

"Better?" he asked.

She blinked her drowsy eyelids. "Yes."

"Can you stand without support?"

"Yes…?"

Sai eased the hold of his arms. Ino, though languid, remained on her two feet and let him detach from her. He stood in front of her, and he seemed to evaluate her condition. Ino continued to watch him from within a sort of fog, unable to form a coherent thought except to admire the full pale lips, and she was aware of her tranquility, her easy manner- -no pain bothered her, no conflict soured her, no disappointment riddled her.

"Your mascara and eyeliner are smeared," he said. The tap of his fingertip to each cheekbone was feather light. "It looks like you have two black eyes."

"I have make-up remover at home."

When she made no move to go or in fact do a single thing, he arched his eyebrows under his over-long bangs. "Perhaps a henge would be appropriate until we get to your residence. People will think I've beaten you."

"Okay." She was a slate wiped clean, content to stand in place for a while longer (until the end of time) under the wise gaze of the moon, but she looked at her hands (were they attached to her body?) and tried to remember the correct hand seals so she could appease him. "What're the-?"

He had an amused slant to his mouth as he showed her the Dog, Boar, and Ram seals in their correct order. "Think you can do it?"

Some of the fog parted. Warming up, she planted a hand on her hip, unappreciative of his tease. "What will you do if I can't?"

"Why should it matter?" he asked in return.

"Maybe I'd prefer the alternative."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then he leaned forward, his mouth next to her ear. "Use the henge, please."

"You are no fun to flirt with," she said and performed the henge so she appeared normal. She stepped around in a circle to show off. By the gods, did I attempt to flirt with Sai, of all human beings? I must have a screw loose. "Happy?"

"Yes." He twiddled the long lock of white-gold hair. "I like it best when you look like yourself."

Embarrassed for no good reason, a blush heated her cheeks. "I always look like me."

"Not in fuchsia you don't." He gestured. "I don't know where you live. Go on. I'm right behind."

Ino sighed, unable to argue with his logic, and headed along the sidewalk to the avenue which would take them to a main thoroughfare. The sun was overhead- -she'd have to think about lunch soon- -and the heart of the village bustled with crowds of hungry folks on their midday breaks. The Office of the Hokage was in the vicinity of other important businesses and government departments, so a good portion of the crowd was shinobi. Her apartment was about fifteen minutes' walk from the Office towards the East Gate. Sai kept behind her and did not require her to discuss the issues she knew he longed to introduce.

So her mind was in the middle of a plan for the next hour or two, on neutral, click-click-clicking along as she walked the familiar route to her apartment. Everything was normal, everything was fine, the small touchstones she watched for were in place. But before she came to her apartment complex, she noticed the void. She shrugged away her worry as a figment of her imagination, but when she stood where her apartment should have been, she found an empty space. Not empty per se, but rather a tumbling mountain of white, dusty cement rubble and beams and twisted rebar behind a wooden partition. The partition stretched along the sidewalk the entirety of the land on which the apartment complex had been.

Her brain did not believe what her eyes told it. She stood back a ways, on her tiptoes to peek over the top of the partition. Had she...taken a wrong turn? No, across the street was the familiar building with yellow doors along the street and an old advertisement painted in black across its face. At the end of the block was the boutique where she'd bought a purple silk scarf. Dazed, uncomprehending, she walked along the wooden partition to where her front gate would be if it had existed. A colorful bit of glass glittered from between the rough slats, and when she put her eye to the crack of space, she saw it was a garden decoration- -the stained glass butterfly Chouji had given her for her birthday. The metal stem had snapped in two, but the butterfly itself was whole. She reached in and maneuvered the ornament to her side of the fence.

From a distance, she heard Sai, but what he said was lost in the rush of storm winds.

Walking the street was an elderly gentleman. Ino stepped in his way. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you, but what's happened to those apartments?"

"They've been demolished," he answered, sniffing. "Seems the whole deal was done in a matter of a couple days. The real estate company that owned the property was sold and bought for some exorbitant price. Apparently, the new owner gave every tenant their notices and a nice cash bonus to encourage their swift removal from the land. It's been in the newspaper the last week or so."

"I see. Thank you."

It became real for her. The home she'd made for herself, her safe place with the artifacts from her father and Master Asuma, from Sakura, Shikamaru, and Chouji, from her missions and myriad romances, was gone forever. The purple and black glass butterfly was all that remained; she offered the decoration to Sai and he took it to his chest, held it like the precious item it was.

"Ino?" he asked. He exuded concern.

She found it impossible to answer him. Whatever good he had done earlier was undone in an instant. A swift gale blew in from the horizon and shook her foundations; violent thunderheads boiled overhead. The henge released with a poof of smoke, but she didn't take notice. In her brain, an excruciating shaft of light blazed behind her temple. Blinded from the onset of the long simmering migraine, she wheeled around and tripped over the damned shoes, and she fell to hands and knees. She did not register the fall, yet she knew the doors of her prison were barred, the massive weight of the stone slab crushed her.

"Get them off," she said, tearing at the shoe straps. They clamped her feet, felt like cement clogs; they would amputate her if she left them on. Scrapes on her knees oozed blood. "Get them off!"

Immediately, Sai was crouched at her feet. He worked the straps off her ankles and removed the shoes despite her kicking and ineffectual efforts to shed them herself. Frantic, Ino climbed to her bare feet. She didn't know. She didn't know what to do. Inside her head, the gale's wind picked up speed, great gusts whipping at the choppy water, angry white teeth gnashed everywhere. The storm had started; it rushed ever closer, gathered strength to tear her down, to blow her to the four corners of the world. It promised to be a big attack, prolonged and painful. Find a safe harbor, quickly.

"Where to?" Sai asked.

Already she was distant from him and his voice was almost lost amongst the howl of the wind. "Sakura's."

He handed her the butterfly to hold and without further delay, swung her into his arms to carry her in the same manner as he had from the hospital; he may have understood the most direct route was the best way. Her father accompanied them, sprinting behind Sai, keeping pace as his sandy ponytail streamed like a ribbon behind him, and she missed him so much. What do I do? He always knew what to do. She reached for him, but he was not close enough to touch. Warn him, cloverbush. Warn him about the storm.

"The storm's coming. It's about to get ugly," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"You're safe with me."

Another pain-burst bolted through her; she strained as it bore down on her and maybe screamed as agony left a crater behind her eye. Breathing labored, dizzy, she clung to Sai, clung to the butterfly, and clung to what remained of her calm as it splintered horribly under the pressure. The loss of control was imminent, and it would be dangerous and it would be nasty. At Sakura's, she could weather the meltdown in privacy. Sai was probably in a hurry to dump her and be gone, and she couldn't blame him for his feelings. The swell of the tide, a distant wave, reached its crest- -the pain, the pressure was incoming.

"Please hurry."

He glanced at her. "We're almost there."

They landed on Sakura's stoop. She was limp in Sai's arms, powerless, as within the haze of pain, the panic attack crashed onto her shores. Somehow they were inside the door; Ino caught glimpses of the kitchen entrance. Sai had rested her against the wall so he could remove his shoes, and as she lolled, the entryway and Sakura's house disappeared, were absorbed, into giant thick trunks and tendrils of vines draped along branches. The forest's ground was mulchy, crunchy with dead leaves and detritus under hand, and the temperature was hot, humid. Sunda Umi? What am I doing here?

Confusion caused a second's hesitation. A second was all it took. Shijo had her down, straddling her, hands locked on her neck. She had plenty of time to memorize the haunted, ashen features, the bold gray eyebrows, the chunks of iron hair matted with sweat and blood. She'd fought him hard, evinced by the bumps, bruises, and abrasions on his face and forearms. The fingers flexed their grip; she choked, a scream half-escaped, growling low in her throat. She wasn't paralyzed- -she brought her heels to her butt and bucked Shijo with her hips. The strangulation intensified, but she already had his forearms pinned to her chest, her left foot outside his ankle as she drove her hips in an upward thrust. They rolled. She staggered upright, free from his hold but throat still closed, and the edge of the kitchen table drove into her stomach as she stumbled into it.

She collapsed, hands tangled in the choker, yanking at it. Sai hovered above her and in a quick motion, flipped her to her stomach. She was splayed out on hardwood planks, arms and legs flailing, banging on the floor as she wrenched at the choker while it cinched tighter and tighter. At her nape, Sai fiddled with the clasps of the necklace. How long had it been since she'd had a breath of air? Too long. Lungs burned for oxygen; veins in her head engorged, pooled with blood. She was close to unconsciousness.

"Your hair has wrapped the clasp. I can cut it off, but you have to stay still. You can't move an inch," he said in her ear. "Understand?"

She tensed, but stopped any extra movement- -and held still with nothing but sheer pigheadedness. Black flooded her vision; heart thudded. Her instincts screamed at her to struggle, to fight it, but with every ounce of her strength she resisted her will to fight; her whole body trembled. A very fine cold point rested on the back of her neck; tension on the choker, and the constriction released. The choker clattered across the floor and Ino heaved air into her lungs, sobbing. In a single stroke, she swiped off the bracelets and let them scatter on the floor, along with the earrings.

Without the choker, the other jewelry, and shoes, Ino fixated on the dress, which had been beneath her notice, and which now raged into existence. She shrieked as a million nits bit her; she writhed, digging nails into the fabric to scratch her skin. The fucking itch would not abate. She twisted, slammed into chairs and table legs- -the entire table set thudded to the wall- -oblivious to anything but the snarl of pain, as she attempted to tear off the dress. It was well made and wouldn't budge.

"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

Again Sai controlled the situation. He had to pin her, knee in her lower back, to yank the zipper. Once it gave, Ino freed herself, peeling out of the dress like a snake shed its old skin, and continued to flop on the kitchen floor because it wasn't only the dress which drove her mad, it was the underwear as well. She screamed as the lace gnawed her flesh, burrowed into her like egg-laying insects, and her violent movements did not help Sai. For a third time, he bodily restrained her on the floor, unhooked the bra and as she shoved it off, he hauled the underwear over her legs and ankles and cast them aside.

Devoid of the wife-slave clothing, Ino scrambled into a corner. Curled up, knees drawn to chin and forehead down, she continued to sob and rock herself, her hands in her hair. Around her, the storm blew, sucked the air from her lungs, had a physical weight which enclosed her from every side. She'd forgotten where she was, who was with her. Silent stillness awaited her, a way out into the depths of the earth. She heard its call and sprinted toward it, her shoulders and legs knocking along ancient stone, and escaped into the cave. Though the awfulness of the storm died the deeper she descended, once she left the safety of the cave, the storm would surround her and take her prisoner.

Panting, shivering, Ino sank her fingers into cool syrupy wetness. This was a mindscape, a different one from Sai's own but offered to her nonetheless, and so she could exert control over the shape of it. Minimal effort was needed to push an image into the space. Tall grasses sprouted and waved in a gentle breeze. Crickets and night birds chirped and called out across the field, a sweet hay scent effervescent among the lush and tasseled stalks. The ground dried, felt warm from hours' old sun and she scraped her fingernails into the dust. Overhead, the moon shone upon her, patient and watchful. The night was endless, serene, and Ino lingered for some time. When she could breathe, when she was anchored with her fingernails in the soil, she segued into reality.

Reality was, unfortunately, painful. Behind her eyelids, a white spotlight beamed full in her face. Even opening her eyes, she couldn't see within the light; she was blinded by it. Her lungs and body ached. The pain which drilled inside her head dwarfed those minor aches, and she could think of nothing but the enormity of it. Just make it stop, please, I'll do anything, make it stop- -something soft draped around her shoulders.

"Ino, does Sakura have medicine for you in the house?"

She lifted her head, but Sai was lost in the white light and she couldn't see him. He made a sound, a gasp, and said, "Your nose is bleeding."

"Upstairs," she slurred in his direction. Blood must have dribbled into her mouth. She could taste the saltiness of it. "Guest bathroom. Pills in the blue bottle."

Rough cloth- -a towel- -pressed her nose. Sick with pain, she accepted the pressure. Sai rubbed circles into her back until she was rational enough to hold the towel to her nose. When she did, Sai lifted her; she did not struggle or argue. As he carried her, she forgot everything, except how wonderful it was to be cradled close to someone's chest, and she sailed, glad she didn't have to care about anything for a while longer. The sailing stopped; there seemed to be a mountainous obstruction in their path, but she couldn't see through the spotlight. Faint electricity crackled the air.

"What is happening here?" The voice was low and indifferent. Cold. "The neighbors have likely summoned the police." Sasuke, home from a mission. Of course. What else could go wrong?

"I'll explain later," Sai said.

"It's my house and I'd like an explanation. Now."

"I recall Sakura saying it was her name on the deed, and furthermore, if it were your house, ought you show more hospitality to guests?"

"Not for her."

Silence. A particularly excruciating blade stabbed her brain with prolonged accuracy. Ino cried out, the towel muffled her, and tensed as the pain licked her nerves, splicing them, sizzling them. She shuddered from its power and wanted to chop off her head for a moment's rest. Waiting much longer to medicate the migraine would cause her to fall unconscious and remain out of commission for a couple days at least, and a couple days she did not have. She whispered into the light, "Hurry, please hurry."

Something happened inside Sai. She didn't understand it, she was too disjointed, too tormented, but it was a shift, a flexing of power or an intensifying of his aura. He said, "Please stand aside or offer assistance."

Silence extended, and then the mountain ceased to block the way ahead. She floated as Sai turned a corner, bobbed as he took the stair-steps to the next floor and floated until he set her on the chilled bathroom floor, propping her against the bathtub. Grass and night sky and warm soil enveloped her; the nocturnal sounds of the field soothed her frazzled nerves. Vaguely she heard Sai rifle through the medicine cabinet. Boxes rustled and other products shifted until he rattled the pills in the blue bottle. Water gushed from the tap; it shut off.

"How many do you take?" he asked.

"Four."

"Four? Are you sure?"

"Yeah," but she could tell he didn't believe her.

"Is that normal for her?" Sai asked.

"Yes, four," she repeated, confused, but the low, cold, indifferent voice answered over her, "I'm not the one to ask."

"Will you bring her some clothes?"

Another bolt of pain drilled her behind her eyes; she groaned, clenched her hands and her body seized as she rode it through. The pain had worsened, getting progressively harder to suffer. Sai materialized next to her, she half-sensed him from the field in which a majority of her mind dwelled, and he removed the towel from her face. A small dry object touched her lips- -her salvation, praise her ancestors. She took one tart pill after another, and between each, gulps of water to carry the medicine to her stomach. With an end in sight, she reclined and awaited the magical release from pain.

"Ino, how long until they work?"

"Fifteen to twenty minutes," she said. He stirred and she thought he might try to move her. "Let me...stay here."

Instead, she heard the faucet run and after a couple seconds, her whole body shifted. She realized he sat between her and the tub and had leaned her back flush against his chest. An arm held her in place by her waist; Ino let her head rest on his shoulder with a compliance bred from exhaustion. Meanwhile, she ran her hands through the stalks of grass, the feathery tassels as soft as a cat's tail and as she did, a cricket hopped onto her arm. A wet cloth dabbed her face, carefully at first but with firmer strokes when the stubborn mascara and eyeliner wouldn't come clean. The field faded, her reason returning as the medicine shifted the migraine into a less powerful mode.

Mortification set in. Sai had experienced her at her very worst, at her loudest and most distraught. What would he think? Ino tried to tell herself it hadn't been that bad, but to no avail. She'd kicked at him, made him carry her around, forced him to endure her screams and violence, and he'd not only stripped her, but had seen her naked. Naked! And not in a sexy way- -no, she'd been in hysterics and ugly- -face bloated, eyeliner and mascara streaked over her cheeks, blood caked under her nose and on her chin, the whole nine yards. He'd never call her Miss Beautiful again, and she no longer deserved the title after today. And the piece of her which continued to love Kiba told her, If he'd been Kiba, it wouldn't have mattered. Yes, Kiba was good at loving unconditionally. You should have accepted him.

"Sai?" Her whisper echoed in the bathroom. "Are we alone?"

"Yes."

"Cut your losses and run," she said.

He stopped rubbing at her eyes with the towel. "What do you mean?"

"I mean jump aboard one of your hawks and fly to the hills. Don't look back," she said. Tears welled up because she told him the honest, awful truth and she didn't know why she admitted it to him. "You stick around me long enough, you'll get hurt and dragged down in my drama. Get away as fast and as far as you can before it happens."

Sai was silent for so long, she opened her eyes. The white light had lessened so she could see, and she shifted to view Sai. Long black bangs fell across his moon-pale face, lips in a flat line, eyes black and intense. He studied her with an unreadable expression which made her uncomfortable. Nervous, she faltered and gazed at her legs poking from the bottom hem of the blanket he'd wrapped her in. Her knees were badly scraped; blood had dripped and dried along her shins. She activated the medical chakra and closed the abrasions on her knees, and when she noticed her elbows were injured, she healed them too.

Sai had not responded to her, so she prompted him. "Do you understand?"

"Are we friends?"

His question, spoken in her ear, took her aback, but after she processed it, she understood where he meant to take their conversation. She sighed. "You are under no obligation to have a relationship with me."

Sai paused a moment. "But we have a relationship. We have been on several missions together. We're teammates just the same as Naruto and Sakura are my teammates." He leaned, bending her forward, and reached with the cloth to wipe the blood from her knees and shins. It was a surprisingly intimate position. "I've been teammates with Naruto for many missions, and he is adamant about three things. One, never abandon your teammates and two, always keep your promises."

How could she argue with Naruto's hero logic? "Sai, I'm warning you...stay away, stay far, far away from me. If you involve yourself in my life, it'll complicate things for you and bring you down."

None of her words seemed to have the least effect. He regarded her seriously and said, "I won't abandon you."

It was obvious he was resolute with his decision, so she surrendered the fight at least until she had better leverage and more of a mindset to convince him otherwise. Throughout the duration of their conversation, tension drained from her and she was left with a wash of soreness in her abused muscles. The medicine was in her bloodstream, had dulled her thinking, and she struggled to keep her eyes open.

A knock at the door interrupted their moment. She'd forgotten about the other person. Sasuke. The thought of his name alone upset her, his being here rose a flurry of emotions she was ill equipped to modulate after going through the emotional wringer. Their relationship was...contentious at best, downright antagonistic at worst. Mostly, she behaved in a manner to piss him off; he brooded in moody, sinister silence when she did. She hated how he treated Sakura; he hated her on principle. The main portion of his detestation stemmed from her being the one to perform Saiko Denshin on him whenever he returned to the village- -the Council, the elders of the clans, and yes, Lord Kakashi all agreed it'd be best (for everyone in the Five Nations) to consistently monitor the inner-workings of Sasuke's mind. And they agreed it should be one of the Rookie Nine to do the deed. Lucky her, ne?

Part of her lay in the field of tall, rustling grass under a summer night's sky, and so she returned to it as Sasuke opened the bathroom door. The left shirt sleeve hung loose; he had not accepted a prosthetic arm like Naruto. Ino believed Sasuke thought it would be more of a challenge to overcome the loss of an arm; she did not attempt to ask him as it was a touchy subject. When he entered with his unbearable electric presence, he had folded clothes tucked under his chin which he set on the toilet lid with his right hand.

"Some clothes," he said and left without further acknowledgement.

"And I thought he hated me," Sai said. "What has he got against you?"

"Oh, everything. I'm the pain in his ass he'd like to rid himself of forever," she answered. Her brain lagged and she sounded drunk. "But I'm a pretty good pain in the ass and hard to dislodge. Why does he hate you?"

"I guess because I'm his second pain in the ass."

She couldn't help the chuckle. "I like the idea of being a pain in Sasuke's ass with you. Fitting revenge for how much of a pain he was in our asses."

Sai laughed, something husky from his throat, and his laughter brought a thrill to her heart. "He's a huge pain in the ass, but he could still take lessons from you."

"Ha, ha, very funny," she said. Amused, she looked at him; he returned the look. Unspoken things curled like smoke between them. "You said Naruto was adamant about three things. What was the third thing?"

Sai smiled a quick, shy little flash of teeth. "Ramen."

Ino laughed outright because the answer had been obvious, but the first two were so serious she hadn't expected the third to be silly. And it was with laughter in her throat she slid away into a painless, sedate sleep, drifting into the grassy field.

A/N: I didn't groom this chapter as much as I did the others, so if you notice any typos or errors, please let me know. I'm kind of digging Sasuke's arrogance- -I may have taken liberties with his personality, but I think it suits him. Let me know how you're liking (or hating) the story. I'll see you again next week!