I wake up gasping. That wasn't me, that couldn't be me. It was almost me… And I can see how it I could /I be me. The ANBU are cooler this time, confident that I'm not a psychopath. I'm not as sure as they are. I gather the blanket and stumble over to the washroom.
The mirror shows only me, with no glowing patches, blue skin, or pointy teeth. A part of me is disappointed, but resolved to be patient. The rest of me is trying to stone that part to death and failing miserably. It's just the same Ino, the same that I've seen since the baby fat melted off. I'm a bit too tall, bit too lean, breasts a bit too small, but still beautiful. Except for the scars. I'm covered in them, head to toe, and six new ones absorb my attention. They frame my eyes, giving them a fierce directness that almost scares me. I take care of other business (apparently I barely avoided a catheter) and sit back down.
The ANBU are nobody that I know, two bird masks and some weird little dog thing. It's hell being a low-ranked ANBU, they have to scrape the barrel for you. I was some type of lemur for a year, which does not inspire fear. I swear dogboy is leering at me, though you can't tell. Some bastard actually padded his vest and spent an hour "searching" the woman's bath before Anko kicked his ass out. She refused to reveal who it was on the grounds that it'd ruin her blackmail.
"Can I have some privacy? I'd like to get dressed." They confer for a moment, then all leave. Idiots. I couldn't have protested much to them leaving the femme behind, not like I care if any girl sees me naked, and this leaves them open to sooo much. With the little bow on the bouquet- doesn't mean anything, just a collection of pretties- and a few other little items lying around I could trap the door so that it would take them ten minutes to get in safely, and set all that up in less than a minute. Even if they're watching the door too close for that I can set something up in the middle of the room with the bed sheets and crap!..
Unprofessionalism gets me all riled up, I'm gonna just drop it and get dressed. One of my modified uniforms, Shikamaru probably picked it up from my apartment. If my father had brought it, the flowers would probably be saying something to the effect of "Be more careful you airhead, I hate worrying". I grimace. I don't like Shika in my apartment, and I don't like him doing stuff for me. We've been dating off and on for years, me breaking up because he's a lazy bastard and him dragging me back by doing something sweet and being slavishly devoted for a week or few. It never lasts. I try not to give him chances to do that anymore.
I set up something quick and easy in the room. No deadlies, but a few things that LOOK like deadlies. Luckily, I've a few poisonous looking but not poisonous pretties in that bouquet, so I can make something impressive looking that can't actually hurt anyone. I do so, then drop out the window. It's a small challenge to get down the wall unseen, they've got watchers but anyone higher than chunnin can probably do it. I'm good at stealth, it was InoShikaCho's favorite tactic. When you can't fight, hide or run away. It's wisdom, not cowardice. InoShikaCho is gone, but I still have the skills.
Now that I'm out of the damn hospital I have to decide what the hell to do. Stopping off at the ANBU barracks would be… unwise, as I ran from my escort. There is nothing to do at my apartment. My parents would ask awkward questions that I'm not in the mood for. On the other hand, I have built up an impressive amount in my bank account that I've never gotten around to spending… And I need new clothes.
I pick up some cash from the bank and go down to the commercial district. First I go clothes shopping. I need new clothes, civilian clothes, I've only been in uniform recently. Half of my old clothes no longer fit right or suit me. I havn't cared much, but I need to gain new friends and renew my loyalty, and clothes make that easier. Plus, I need to stop being a work-a-holic and get new interests.
I pick up some dresses, I don't have many and I look good in them, and go into the changing room. It's a total disaster. I put on a black and slinky and find myself wondering how things will look with turquoise, if the silk will catch on my sandpaper skin, what looks good with strange, alien black-and-gold eyes, and whether it's better to cover my glowing spots and mute them, and if so what colors look best with a jade glow behind them, or if I should bare them proudly and choose colors to match. It freaks me out. I don't want to accept things this easily, I shouldn't. I storm out and have to stop myself from buying several ugly pink dresses just because they wouldn't work with that me. I end up getting nothing, in a rather angry fashion. I think the clerks were afraid of me.
Shoes are no better. I've no new clothes to match them to, for one. And I'm just… Uncomfortable. I don't really want any, and I doubt that I would use them when- if, I mean – I change. My skin was tough, I wouldn't need shoes, and because of the texture I'd have ripped them apart in a dozen steps. The groove that had been worn in the floor was deep, deeper than centuries of human feet could have made. That makes me want to buy some… But I can't find any that I want. I walk up and down the aisles quickly at first, nothing catching my eye. I walk slowly, looking at details, and can't feel a flicker of interest. Most everything goes the same way. I don't get a purse, for instance, because I won't ever use one. I have vests for that, and I can alter a civilian dress to have plenty of inconspicuous pouches for weapons and anything else I need.
I end up just giving myself up to the crowd in the Yamanka way. I'm a bitch. I know I'm a bitch. If I wasn't a bitch, I wouldn't be me. With our abilities, everyone else is pressing against our minds at all times, and we must fight back. We can't allow ourselves doubt, to be influenced overmuch by others, or to lose confidence. If you start allowing any of that, your personality begins to erode. We are still strongly influenced by others, though, because we must choose our battles. Pick and choose your bones, the foundation of your personality, and give everything else up as lost to the will of the mob.
That was why InoShikaCho was made, in fact. Our family's abilities complement each other perfectly, but more than that, they make us sane. The Akimichi stoic dependability and the Nara self-reliance act as pillars of strength and pools of calm that we can draw on to fight the outside world. They filter the worst of our influences, keeping us stable. Or at least, they did. They did until Shikamaru fell in love with me, I fell out of love with him, and poor Chouji was caught in the crossfire. They did, a bit, until it all happened again and again. When Shikamaru does not have me, he loves me. He loves me so strongly that I can't resist, that I'm swept up in his emotions. When he has me, he takes me for granted. He lets his apathy creep back in and I walk back out the door. I don't really love him. I don't know if I can love anyone on my own, before they love me back.
I give myself to the crowd. It's so easy to do, you just have to drop your guard a little bit and you stop thinking to follow their will, doing what they want to do as they want to do it. It's a dangerous thing; there is always the chance that you won't come back out, that you'll change so much as to be unrecognizable, or that you'll do something that cannot be forgiven. I've lost two uncles to the first. The bones of their minds dissolved, leaving them nothing but clever beasts. We give them mercy killings. I'm lucky this time. I come up in a bar and it just doesn't occur to me to stop drinking. At least until Shikamaru walks in.