Meant to be part of Chasing Blue Sky, this was just a brainstorm of what could be planned for in the future. I might keep the idea, but not necessarily this fic precisely (as it's in first person, and I don't have plans on having much first person in that fic). Ino's point of view.

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No pressure. No pressure to win.

That's what you told me before this started. You cornered me before I went to the stadium, and told me that. I didn't say anything then. I couldn't. What could I say? You told me I could give up if I wanted to. I didn't have to win, for it to count. Of course, I knew that. I saw it happen with you.

But I'm not you. I do things differently. Surely you haven't forgotten that.

This match was a mistake. The wounds I feel from far too many bladed objects and the blood running down my arms and legs are doing a good job of letting me know that I should have thrown the towel in long ago. Before she pulled that stunt. But I wouldn't. I simply couldn't give up. While facing her was a possibility, I didn't think it would happen. But it did, and there's no use belly aching about it.

Panting, I regard my opponent. She's stunned that I'm still standing. I managed to counter about half of the volley, but the defensive technique I developed isn't perfect. And I still managed to get turned into a pin cushion. I should be dead. Or at least, so wounded I wouldn't be able to stand up under my own weight. What makes this so hard, you see, is that she's likely my best friend, outside of you, of course. I chuckle a little, recalling how she had told someone I was soft against Sakura. I made sure I wouldn't give her the same consideration. Those were different circumstances then. It's because of how much I respect her that I'm giving her no quarter.

She's given me absolutely nothing.

And that's why I can hear you. You're afraid something's going to go wrong. Straightening myself out, pulling out the various things that are stuck in my body, the crowd audience here seems to be going into phases of stunned silence, and noise. I'm not sure if its cheers of encouragement, or some sort of outcry of shock that I'm doing this. My body language clearly states I'm going to continue this fight. I know I'm going to lose, you see. It's why I can almost laugh, hearing you over all of that. I'm not sure why I can. Perhaps I'm just that sensitive where you're concerned. You're trying to tell me to give up. I'm too injured to continue.

You're right, of course. Not many people can take that attack and not be considered "too injured" to fight.

But I can't do that. You couldn't understand.

"Ino, you can't..." She pleads with me, speaking no words, but I can read her lips easily.

I sigh here. My eyes close as I think of the best way to rationalize this. Opening them, I turn to regard the examiner. The way he's chewing on his toothpick lets me know he's ready to step in at a moment's notice and end the match. He hasn't yet, though, probably because he's waiting to see what I'm going to do.

"On the field, the only way to abandon a mission is to fall during it," I return to my friend. The examiner doesn't step in, though he knows what I'm going to do.

With a resigned sigh, she accepts this. My hands wrap around a katana and a wakazashi at my feet, already covered in my own blood. Right before I charge, forcing my body to respond with the speed it should, instead of what it's currently capable of; I hear your startled cry. I risk a look at you, knowing where you were all along. You're displaying more shock at this than my own father.

It's obvious you don't understand. It might not be necessary to win... but giving up is not a loss I can afford.