Series:
Naruto
Rating: T. Somewhat suggestive
Warnings:
390 words of suggestive genfic drabble. A bit depressing, but most of
what I write is.
Summary: OneShot, Drabble. Ino wakes up
and suddenly finds she's not twelve. More coming to terms with
things. Genfic.
Author: Mewling
Title: Once More
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Once
More
by mewling
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Twelve years old, and Ino believed intimate touching was reserved for love.
It seems impossible now; having thoughts of purity and such like. Musing on it now, Ino realises that at twelve, she'd never killed anyone either. She wonders if it's related.
Oh, she'd been in love, like any other pubescent girl. Touching hands made her embarrassed -aggressively so- and seeing people kiss in a park was akin to pornography. She laughs at it now, but with a sort of wistfulness.
At fourteen, Ino had her first kiss.
She knew it was more than Sakura had done, and felt proud. Looking back, it was sort of clumsy, with a boy whose mother she was serving in the flower shop; just a brief, brushing of lips. And she'd felt so mature.
Later that year, she was surprised to find herself in a talk with the old teachers from her school days. Apparently, the kunoichi still had one more lesson to learn.
When she was sixteen, Ino lost her virginity.
It didn't feel that way at the time, and it's not until she reflects on that moment that she realises that's was it was. And in between then and now, there's scores of times it's happened again. It's a little surprising to find she has no more sentiments towards the matter than stealing a scroll.
And somewhere between when she was hiding the corpse and cleaning herself out with lemon juice, Ino wakes up and suddenly finds she's not twelve.
She turns eighteen, and settles herself at home.
She was too young to retire completely, but between the flower shop and the mediocre missions Ino managed to make a living. Ino believes ninjas mature about twice as quickly as regular folk, and then was beginning to hear herself say things her mother had.
Ino begun to think half-heartedly about having a family, because she'd mostly run out of anything else to do. She let go of these ideas when she was picking through the charred remains of her shop, and crumbling daffodils between calloused fingertips. It only left her with one job option.
Twenty years old, and Ino never thought she'd have to do this again.
In a brief moment of nostalgic sentimentality, she gently closes the corpse's eyelids. It's a meaningless gesture; the kunai sticking out of his throat is hers.
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/END ONCE MORE/
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A/N: Hn, I'm writing like this again... inspired by a fic that's in my favourites, if you're interested.
About the lemon juice..? It's an old contraceptive...
Please review.