a/n: meh, I just really suck at updating. Really sorry! Still hoping I can work on the next chaps of my SS fic, UWFOE.

Shadow

The next day, she went to work as usual and worked on her designs.

Her agency would be having a grand photoshoot soon, and she needed to make sure they would be able to showcase the best of their wardrobe. She also had another project coming up which needed her full attention as this would be her biggest break. The illustrious fashion week was just around the corner, and a famous clothing line signed a collaboration with their agency. Despite the many talented designers in the circle, it was she who was tasked to craft the designs worthy of being paraded on the runway.

She couldn't lose her focus because this could either make or break her career. It took her awhile to realize that a career in painting would be a long shot for her, but when she'd set her sights on this track, she promised herself she'd make a name for herself.

This way, she could at least live under the illusion that she wasn't in any way inferior to him, that he didn't leave because of a belated realization that she wasn't a match for him.

It was already eleven when she reached her apartment. She worked until eight and decided to get some drinks at a local bar because it was a chilly Friday night and she sure needed a reward for a hard day's work. She wanted to call up a friend to make sure she wouldn't get too wasted, but she really wasn't in need of company. By the time she finished, she was already staggering towards the taxi bay and had to repeat her address to the driver more than thrice.

Her apartment was on the second floor – thank goodness, not on the third – so it wasn't much of a struggle climbing those stairs with shaky legs and a hazy vision. She actually might have had to crawl though to make it to her door because maintaining balance wasn't an option when she couldn't even feel her head.

But she couldn't remember what happened after the stairs and how she got inside her room because when she woke up, she was already settled nicely in her bed, with a plate of omelette and a cup of hot cocoa waiting for her on her coffee table.

She stayed cooped up in her room all day, working and more importantly, trying to figure out who had carried her inside. It couldn't be one of her neighbors because she hadn't even had the chance to see them yet! It couldn't be one of her friends too because no one texted her that they would be waiting for her at her apartment or something. That and the fact that her only friends at work, Tenten and Neji, were in some location far from her area for aesthetic a.k.a modelling purposes. She then started to feel creeped out by the possibility that a total stranger touched her the night before and even entered her room.

In her panic, she still began writing a message to the two, hoping one of them would actually admit to being the person behind this unnerving mystery – or maybe they actually wanted to surprise her? She was just about to send it when the bell rang, and she ran to the door, knowing that it was definitely one of her friends coming over to give her hell about staying out late in the night and getting drunk alone.

But it was none other than Sai and his perky smile which greeted her. In her frozen state, she didn't even realize that he had already invited himself in.

When she recovered though, she ran up to him whose eyes were already trained on that corner of her room which contained her half-finished paintings of him. Damn.

"Why the hell are you here?"

She then started pushing him towards the door, but he only held her arms.

"You seemed to have had a great time last night. You should have invited me."

She took her eyes off him when his smile became too bright and too pretentious to bear.

"Oh," she exclaimed slowly. "So it was you who brought me here then," she continued, her voice quieting on the realization that he had practically seen everything she wanted to hide from him.

"I had to. Unless you would've wanted to spend the cold night outside?" he turned, a mocking grin plastered on his face.

She avoided his bait and decided to let the matter rest lest he decided to spew out some more nonsense. She just proceeded back to her laptop, hoping he'd get the message and just leave as silently as possible from her apartment and from her life.

But the insisting artist just pulled out a chair beside her and seated himself.

"You're free to ask me if anything happened," he began again with that annoying smile of his.

"No thanks," she quickly replied, without looking at him. She just continued letting her fingers fly on her keyboard although she hadn't made any significant progress yet. What was progress really when four years had passed and Sai was still in her life?

"You did say something in your drunken state though," he mused as if trying to recall.

Her chair fell backward in her surprise, her hands pushed against the edge of the table as she stared at him flabbergasted, like a fish cruelly removed out of its aquarium.

"I said something?"

She was so worried she said something compromising again because while she would hate to admit it now, the part of her that was constantly screaming for him was still present somewhere, vaguely lurking in her consciousness, and it sure couldn't have chosen a better time to manifest itself.

"Yes. You kept mentioning my name . . ."

"And? What did you hear? What did I say?"

"You said you miss me . . ." he said and darted a satisfied glance at her.

Then, as if unloosed, Ino just burst out laughing before righting her chair and sitting once more, slipping on that mask of calmness.

"If I missed you, I wouldn't just say it. I would've done something more dramatic li – "

"Like looping your arms around my neck and never letting me go. Thought so. Yep, you never said anything but you actually did such a thing. I had half a mind to stay beside you. I didn't mind but was afraid you'd kill me in my sleep. It was hard getting out of your embrace, but I enjoyed it."

When he finished, there were two things that made her question the reality of this conversation. First, if she actually did something as ghastly as what he was claiming she did, the normal Sai would've just probably left her on the cold floor. Second, the normal Sai wouldn't have willingly engaged her nor talked this much to her.

She felt so lost she didn't know what to say next, so she settled with what she had been meaning to tell him ever since but never got the chance to.

"I'm sorry. Sorry to have bothered you," she remarked morosely. She didn't have much energy left pursuing this conversation.

"No. Don't," he countered, and she was rather surprised with how crisp and firm his tone was. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I told you I would've stayed. You never have to ask."

It was a mistake to look at him because when she did, all the emotions she thought she'd tightly sealed inside were now seeking to be released. But still, she stood her ground.

"Sai, I'm busy so please, if you may just leave."

In response, he just let out a sigh and even rested his back more comfortably against the chair, his arms now folded against his chest as he shot her a scrutinizing look.

God, she then knew what was coming.

"Stop pretending you didn't know I saw your paintings. Because I did," he paused to fix his eyes once more on that offending corner, "and I'm still enjoying seeing them now."

"What about them then?" she asked, clearly upset that he seemed to be having lots of fun teasing her at a sore spot.

"All about me."

"And?"

"It means something that it's you who painted them, Ino."

At this, she rose from her chair again, taking offense. "What? Are you trying to insult me once more? Am I gonna hear your speech about the 'cheapest kind of intimacy' again?"

She smirked when he winced, obviously recalling that exact moment in the past that would always be fresh in her memories because if she'd actually been more rational years ago, she would've seen that the closest she could ever get to him would be nothing but that, the cheapest kind of intimacy. And it was genius of him to have already branded it so fashionably weeks before it actually magically happened.

And it was such a laughable irony that something so magical to her had actually been nothing but some momentary, tawdry distraction to him.

And it was careless of her to be having these thoughts now because she could already feel her throat closing and her eyes watering when she swore to never again be affected by anything that concerned him because she was supposed to be okay and she was supposed to not need his sorry.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," he uttered before she felt him pull her in, his shirt soaked with the soft scent of freshly opened oil paints.

It calmed her as she remembered the days when she was so determined to show off her skills and get his recognition, the days when she dreamt of them painting together and painting each other, that day when they both had sported crazy paint streaks on their skins and she was giggling while he was making the subtlest hint of a smile as if, as if that meant anything.

And then it hit her.

She pushed him away gently because it was only what she could manage to do and thankfully, he didn't put up any resistance and his arms fell away as soon as she pulled back.

"No. Please stop. Stop saying sorry," she pleaded, her voice hoarse from a desperate, silent attempt to rein in her protesting emotions.

"You don't have to forgive. Just accept my – "

"Don't you . . . understand?" she rasped as she fell back on her chair, barely containing the slight tremors numbing her body. "I'm okay. You left, and I was okay. Accepting your sorry means I wasn't, but I was. I'm okay. So, Sai, just stop doing this."

At this point, she had resorted to fixing her gaze on that corner, disoriented and not having the strength to face him any longer.

But it wasn't long before she heard the creaking of the door.

"You're not fine at all, Ino. And you need this."

She missed being at the receiving end of such cold-blooded honesty, but she didn't owe him any answer.

"I, I also need this. Please talk to me when you're ready."

She waited for the sound of the door shutting before releasing the breath she didn't know she was holding.

His tone was unyielding yet coaxing, almost imploring.

She understood why he needed this. His conscience was eating him up, and he needed immediate relief.

Too bad though, maybe she'd never ever be ready.

…

Tbc.

(Swift's "All Too Well" was on loop while I was writing this; hence, the drama. God, and I was trying so hard to hold it in check! It won't be a full-blown multi-chap fic. Sorry. :( But thanks so much for the support! Please keep the reviews coming. Means a lot to me! I'm still deciding on the next turn of events lol.)