Writhe Beneath

AN: I took quite a few authorial liberties with canon for this one-shot. I know that we don't see Ino use the Psycho Mind Transmission in the manga, only her father and some other interrogators. I also tweaked its limitations in this for my own reasons, which is why I'm labeling this as AU among a few other reasons. I believe I probably took some liberties with the Rinne Tensei as well, but I think that's a little debatable.

Enjoy!

Ino Yamanaka sat across from Naruto, most of his face hidden from her view as he stooped over the ground from the stump he was sitting on. His hands were clasped together, and she noticed that he was tightly squeezing them. The glade they were alone in, some distance from the outskirts of the village, enveloped them with songbird chirps and fruitful tree branches on what would normally be a beautiful early afternoon, but it was sullied by them and their task. She was still trying to mentally process the request he had made to her, not that she could blame him—she had heard about what had happened to them after the battle with Nagato from Sakura.

She fidgeted upon the log where she was seated. "I…don't really feel good about this, Naruto. I don't think you know exactly what my family does. You should talk to my dad about this instead."

Without looking up, he said: "I couldn't do that. I don't want him to see me like that." When he finally did raise his head, his blue eyes were a far darker shade than she had ever seen before. "I don't know much about it—that's true, but I need help."

Ino winced and rubbed her hands listlessly. She hated talking about her clan's techniques, not because they were meant to be secret to her family, but mostly because she didn't want to be seen and known for that. She had always wanted to be her own person: a woman who loved flowers, flirted with boys, talked and laughed with friends; someone who cared about people and didn't use them. Every time she heard stories from her father about his interrogations, she'd feel as if she were expected to do the same, to manipulate and control others. Even if it was for the good of the village, she always hated how dirty she felt about it.

"I really can't do what you think I can," she said. "Even if I could, messing with memories is awfully dangerous. If I slip at all in my concentration, I could do irreparable damage to your mind. I'm terrible at focusing when I do it and I just know I'll mess you up."

The faintest traces of a sly smile crossed Naruto's lips. He seemed too tired to give a real one. "So you can do it, huh?"

Ino frowned and mentally kicked herself. "I—I've only done it in practice with my dad." Her face softened to a more wistful state. "Never with a friend."

Naruto nodded like he understood. "I get that, but I can't go on like this. I haven't been able to sleep this whole week. I can't keep calm or focused enough to train my Sage Mode at all. If some other Akatsuki member were to attack the village right now, I wouldn't be able to stop them." His dejected, lost expression made Ino feel as if the clearing they were in was a different place entirely, a kind of black hole sucking in the light and brighter parts of the world. "I just keep seeing her lying there, bleeding helplessly. I just want the pain to stop."

Ino nervously clutched her arm and averted her eyes from him. She empathized with his reasons behind why he wanted her to edit his memories, but not only was it incredibly risky, she was terrified to see what was there. Sakura had been brief in her description of the events, and Ino never wanted to know the details of something so horrific. Maybe that made her a coward, a bad friend, but after hearing him say all that, she felt her fear was warranted.

"I want to help, Naruto, I really do. You've done so much for all of us." When he had initially asked her earlier to talk to him alone, she had felt guilty about leaving the others to the rebuilding of the village, but now her current guilt superseded any other facets of the emotion. "But it's a really complicated jutsu and if something terrible happened, I'd never forgive—"

"Please, Ino," he said with the saddest smile, which began to unshackle her reservations, as if he were freeing her from her fears. She knew he could do that for people, he must have done something like that to Nagato, but to feel it herself didn't lessen its intensity. It was anyone's guess as to how he did that. Charisma could only accomplish so much, but Naruto's ability was something more, she realized, something more authentic.

"I trust you," he admitted, his somber eyes gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Ino's back straightened, and she took a deep breath. If the roles were reversed, she supposed she would be asking for the same thing. She stood up and approached him. "I'm not nearly as skilled as my dad, so it's going to take me a while to do this." She lowered her eyes, shuffled her feet. "I'm not sure what you'll feel while I'm in there either. It can be different for each person."

Naruto nodded, and the sudden happiness, the overwhelming relief in his eyes, she saw in him then almost made her weep. "That's fine," he said. "Thanks for this, Ino." Her throat tightened when he smiled gratefully at her, like she was instead freeing him rather than the other way around. She supposed that was true.

There was a lot of warmth in his words and for a moment, Ino felt good to be helpful to him. That feeling was gone as soon as she reached her hand out and placed it upon his head, his spiky locks yielding to her touch. They both closed their eyes, and she surged her chakra in that familiar way she had known since she was a child learning from her father's kind teachings—a gentle push—as if she were simply slipping off her clothes and floating into another room.

In his mind, she took note of her surroundings. She had only ever seen her father's mindscape like this during their training, but she immediately marveled how very different it felt. There was the typical black background, the air dense and still, but she could sense a deep anger behind it all. It was like another life force, red and enraged, but it was held at bay here by that cool density around her.

In front of her, Ino saw a brain-like object much like the one she had seen when she had practiced with her father, and she floated towards it. She had never tried to edit any memories before. She had only ever viewed them, but she would try her best and already had a theory of what to do.

She held both hands forward, palms opened facing toward the object and began to unravel. To her, it was much like opening a scroll and reading its contents except she could feel what was there, experience them as if it was all happening to her. It didn't start at the beginning of his memories when she made the opening, but the initial vision confused her. She saw Sasuke's face. He was younger, the way she remembered him, and he was turning away from her. She wanted to linger a bit, to see him again, but she pushed past and skipped over the visions. After what felt like a while, she saw the fight against Nagato and slowed down.

When Ino got to the part she was looking for, she knew she couldn't have prepared herself for what she saw. There, in the slideshow of his joy and despair, she experienced all of it with him and confirmed it was just as she feared. From start to finish, all she could think about was how she had to make him forget, to release him; it was too cruel not to.

Naruto slowly meandered through the forest on his way back to the village, his legs shaking with fatigue, his breathing haggard and unsteady. He had hoped Nagato's Rinne Tensei had brought everyone back to life like he said it would. He wasn't sure he'd really be able to rest until he knew everyone was safe. The cedar trees around him swayed and flourished brilliantly in the sunny breeze with the grass tenderly brushing against his exposed toes. He was tempted to lie down and drink in the beauty, but he pressed on with heavy footsteps.

As he neared the end of the village, he noticed two figures on the edge of the massive cavity Nagato had created during the battle. All of a sudden, the copy of Katsuyu who had been with him during the battle, popped out from his jacket collar.

"Naruto," cried Katsuyu, "you must hurry! Sakura and Hinata need you! Everyone else is scattered and tending to the other wounded. Quickly!"

Naruto's tired leg muscles strained, and he instantly picked up his pace as the sense of relief he had since his talk with Nagato seemed to drain away, an empty promise never really made but desperately wanted. What began to fill the space of the drained relief was far more frenzied, more dreadful.

He could make out Sakura, hunched over Hinata, her hands emitting a green aura over Hinata's bloody chest. Nagato's rod he had seen her get impaled with was still wedged within her, looming high and motionless, mocking him like a grisly pillar to his faulty achievements. When the distance between them had shortened, he saw Sakura's wide, frightened eyes directed toward him. "Naruto!" she screamed, her voice carrying across the vast, empty expanse. "Help me! I'm losing her!"

Despite his weariness, some final dregs of adrenaline were summoned within him, and he raced forward toward them. No, no, no, he thought as he ran. This couldn't be happening. He had just saved her. She had just said something earlier to him before he lost himself in his fury, right? He couldn't remember what it was, but he had to know. She needed to live so he could ask her. His heart pounded, drumming louder and louder in his chest with every step. When he reached them, the atrocities of his actions, of his powerlessness, glared blankly at him all at once. The dread was taking root then, and it would thrive here in this place. There was blood everywhere, more than he ever thought a person could possess, and Sakura was covered in it, like some red painter realizing she had made a grave mistake upon her canvas and didn't know how to fix it. A copy of Katsuyu, much smaller than the one with him, was on top of Hinata's wound, her own chakra being fused with Sakura's.

Sakura motioned towards Hinata. "Hold her up!" He quickly crouched down and lifted her torso up against his upper body. Her body was cold, and her dark blood began to seep into his clothes. The copy of Katsuyu that had been with Naruto slid out from his jacket and went to aid the other copy with Hinata's injury. "Kakashi went to get more help," said Sakura. "I'm running out of chakra, and I need to try to get this rod out fast."

Naruto shook his head in disbelief. "I—I don't understand," he choked. "Nagato should have brought everybody back."

Sakura frowned in confusion. "You mean that jutsu everyone was revived by? Katsuyu told us everything that happened, but it didn't heal anyone who was only wounded." Sakura's face contorted in frustration, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. "Hold her still!"

Naruto looked down at Hinata's face. Had she really been lying here suffering this whole time waiting for him? She looked like she was sleeping, her normally pale face now pasted a stark white. She was still waiting for him, to be saved by him.

Why was this happening? Had he not been strong enough? If she made it, how could she ever trust him again? He held her shoulders tightly as his exhaustion settled deeper this time, the energy dipping down into the gruesome guilt. There was a pressing in his own chest as her weight leaned against him and the great heaviness upon all of his senses felt as if he were being crushed from all ends. He was supposed to save her, he thought for the hundredth time in that minute—he had fixed it already, so how did this happen?

Hinata's chest barely moved, but he could see it rise and fall slightly against the dark rod as she pushed against it with every weakening breath. Naruto felt just as weak with those breaths, and his vision started to blur. Sakura's voice was far away, in another realm outside of him and the bleeding woman he held. For a tiny, awful moment, he thought that if Sakura were right, then he wished Hinata had just died like the others instead. He despised that thought, but for that moment, he wanted it terribly. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain against his cheek.

"Naruto, wake up!" Sakura yelled as she brought her hand back to the wound after slapping him. "I need you to hold her steady. I need to cut around the rod to get it out, so don't move her!"

Naruto nodded weakly as he watched Sakura lift her shaky hand up—spread flat with fingers joined—above Hinata before she swiftly struck down into the wound. Her hand glowed that hazy green color as it cut, and he could see more blood start to flow. He wasn't well-versed in medical techniques, but he knew his teammate was just as tired as he was upon seeing the jagged lines in Hinata's skin. The dread had been growing in him this whole time, getting fat and ugly with inky, vile substance as it engulfed him because he had let this happen and there was nothing his abilities could do: no enemy to defeat, no mission to undertake, just nothing to do but watch his loved ones suffer.

The dread rapidly overtook every part of him when Sakura slipped and her hand carved across the very middle of Hinata's torso, cutting cleanly through her sternum and jacket to split her wide open.

Frantic, Sakura screamed: "Oh fuck, fuck! Please no! I can fix this!" She locked eyes with him, and he saw the dread in her eyes, too. It was contagious, he thought. "Grab her chest! Hold it tight, okay?! I'll heal it!"

All of a sudden, a conflicting rush of something perverse and appalling writhed within him. He tentatively grabbed both sides of her, avoiding going farther up, and tried to squeeze. The fatty tissue underneath Hinata's skin glared at him, its fleshy globular mass exposed to the world as blood oozed over it. Her sinew and muscle were a pinkish web next to the dull yellow of her severed bones, and the stench finally seemed to hit him then. He could feel his stomach begin to flip so much he had to close his eyes.

"Focus!" commanded Sakura. "Bring your hands closer!"

Naruto opened his eyes hesitantly. He couldn't handle touching her there, but he reluctantly seized each of her breasts and pushed them towards the wound. For Sakura to get a better angle, he had to pull her a little higher up until her hair was in his face. He summoned every ounce of resolve to fight against the impulse to vomit, to not ruin her beautiful hair. Her breasts were so large he couldn't wrap his whole hands around them, and he felt immediate shame at realizing what he was doing. Her jacket fell from her sides, and he witnessed her bare chest flash before him. When the mesh of her undershirt shifted from his fingers, her nipples poked against his palms, the softness of her, the wholeness of her made his weary head heat up tremendously. He had never held a woman like this before and there was a grim glee in his mind, one that he would never speak of to anyone. Thankfully, the more powerful despair usurped that feeling. He gladly embraced it as a way to cover his half-lust, half-guilt at touching her. He began to remember what she had last said to him, and it shoved all that inky dread into the center of him, converging into a dense ball of dark, ghastly essence.

Hinata had confessed to him.

Here he was, the hero of Konoha: clutching her chest, coated in her sticky blood, and she had revealed her feelings to him. Someone as pure as her deserved more from someone, not someone so fucking weak and powerless as him. She loved him? What good would come from that? He wasn't even strong enough to protect her. The dense ball of dread started to leak within him, expanding its spindly tendrils all around. There was nothing to do but hold her tight, to wish she wouldn't leave without ever hearing his own feelings.

Sakura had managed to get the rod out and was now slowly running her fingers up Hinata's sternum, the tissue knitting neatly behind her chakra. Finally, after all of his shame had congealed and remained as great and as solid as he could bear, Sakura told him to release her as she moved back to the main injury to help the two copies of Katsuyu again.

Naruto leaned back against his hands, Hinata's head reclined into his lap. His nausea subsiding, he shivered and took long, gasping breaths as his head attempted to clear itself, to clean the dread away. Maybe she would survive this, and while that would be amazing, he was sure he could never live with these haunting memories. He had fought so hard, put so much energy into everything he had done that day, that this event felt like it was sucking the very life force from him. He couldn't tolerate living with this forever.

After another eternity, Sakura sat up and wiped her brow, her face wan and faded, almost unrecognizable to him. "Okay, I think she's stable now. I need to find where Kakashi went and get her some fluids. Stay with her, okay, Naruto?"

Naruto didn't even attempt to acknowledge he had heard her as Sakura sped away. Instead, he stared at Hinata's nakedness blankly before he realized he needed to cover her. He took off his jacket and placed it over her, the drying blood staining the red spiral of his clan. He gazed down at her face. Her lips were slightly parted and a bit of color was softly returning to her cheeks. Without thinking, he idly brushed his fingers against those cheeks.

He dwelled on her confession again. Why had she done that right before she fought Nagato? She had to have known Nagato would defeat her in an instance just like he ended up doing. She had said it was because of him, because of how fearless he was against any obstacle, and that had made her courageous. Other people might have said she was foolish, but then they'd be saying the same thing about him. They would be right, of course, but in the end, if she hadn't done that, then he probably wouldn't have succumbed to the Kyubi's will and defeated Nagato's Deva Path. Still, he wondered why she had the resolve to confess and then put her life on the line. That made him feel less deserving of who she was. It wasn't like him to be so downcast. He always picked himself up, but this was all too potent. He hadn't been there when Jiraiya died, but if he had been, he pondered if he would feel like he did now. One thing was certain to him, he wasn't ready yet, not for her.

But he wanted to be ready for her, didn't he? He hadn't really considered the thought, but now that he was holding it, taking a pensive moment to really look at it, he found himself liking the idea of being with someone so strong, so steadfast. But the dread within him reminded him it was far too soon.

"I…I'm so sorry, Hinata," he whispered aloud, not caring if she could actually hear him or not. The two Katsuyus didn't say anything, pretending not to listen for his sake. "I thought I could do more. I thought I was so much stronger now, that I had worked hard enough to never let this happen to anyone. But I can't do it. You made me realize I'm not ready to protect everybody." He closed his eyes and lifted his head up to the sky. That sunny breeze he had reflected upon not so long ago was there with him, caressing his skin to bring some meager solace. "I'm not capable of being with you yet. So could you wait a little longer? Could you wait until I'm ready to accept you?"

He opened his eyes when he heard sniffling from below. He looked down and saw her tear-filled, pale eyes gazing up at him. She may have still been too near the verge of death even then, but he thought she was mesmerizing, as if she were a frail lily drooped over a placid pond.

"I can wait," Hinata whispered back.

Relief, similar to the kind he had felt earlier, came and washed over him, but it didn't take away the heavier, denser feelings below his alleviation. Even as Sakura returned with Kakashi and some medical supplies to bring Hinata back to a much healthier state, those feelings still lingered. He was afraid they always would.

Ino retreated back from the brain-like object in front of her and raised a hand to her head, all of her energy seeming to have vanished. The impact from all of that, all the rush of his emotions and thoughts, left her worn and fatigued. She had felt everything. She might as well have been Naruto himself during the ordeal—his worries, his self-doubt, all of that was part of her own memories now. Surely, he wasn't the first shinobi nor would be the last to deal with such a tragic instance, but to feel, to really feel, what another person did was something entirely different to her and it made the experience much more visceral. She understood his pain now more than anyone else could and her first thought was to get rid of it for him. Ino only wished she could have done the same for herself.

Ino spent considerable time editing Naruto's memories, clipping away certain senses and occurrences, and trying to substitute them for something better. She created a few new ones for him too, happier ones. They involved him being picked up and carried by Kakashi as soon as he got back from the battle. Hinata would be just fine when he got back to the village having been healed by Sakura before he had even defeated Nagato, and Naruto would be greeted by everyone when he returned and he would only know the thrill and excitement of seeing everyone cheering for him. It took her the longest to erase that sense of dread, but she managed to expunge its oily core in the end. That's what Ino did for him.

When she was finished, Ino released the technique and awoke to the glade. She took her hand off Naruto's head and watched him remain still for a moment. She knew his mind was trying to process all the shifting information. It wouldn't be too long until he awakened. She thought about what had happened to him and marveled at the fact that he had endured all of that pain.

Somehow, she believed she had succeeded with her jutsu despite her earlier misgivings about the situation, as if being a part of his beliefs now had made her own belief that much stronger. She also knew that even amidst all of that struggle, Naruto had never lost his tenacity, the solid foundation of total faith in knowing he would ultimately overcome just about anything. Maybe that's why he had asked for this, she mused. Maybe the only way he could overcome this particular moment was to forget all about it. That might have been circular reasoning, but she didn't really care; he deserved some rest.

Ino took a moment to take in the simple little meadow they were in before she left. It was now dusk, and the evening's cool parts had stepped into the clearing with misty fingers. Blue butterflies fluttered on the feathered petals of budding wildflowers, their blossoms adorned in blues, reds, yellows. The undisturbed grass wanted to grow taller but it did so slowly, taking its time to dream of great heights like the trees. Ino wondered if all dreams were so futile, so fragile when faced against reality. Naruto probably didn't think so, she thought. He probably believed any dream was obtainable if surrender was never an option. Ino hoped that now he still believed that. He now had the privilege to.

With a deep, satisfied breath, Ino headed toward the village, allowing him to sleep for a little while longer. She and the others would always know what happened, but she planned on talking to them and telling them to play along with his new memories. She had a confident notion that none of them would protest, even Hinata. After all, some things, no matter how life-altering or domineering, were better left forgotten.

I want to thank SocialSuicideGirl for all their help with this. It was their original idea and I just fleshed it out. I loved writing it, and I'm so grateful to them for bringing me that.

Please let us know what you thought!