Two: Recession

Warnings: Ino's potty mouth gets some exercise today, and Sakura reviews what it feels like to get punched in the face a dozen times.

Author's Note: Wow, another chapter today! I surprise myself sometimes - that is, surprise myself by how successful I am at NOT studying for my friday exam and NOT finishing my last essay. Yeesh. Anyway, readers have a handful of reviewers to thank for this angsty mess. Hannah Sakura, Physco Wolf, kniichan, KumoSeikatsu, pia Z, hashire and jenafrost. So, if you must blame someone, blame them for encouraging me to continue! But thank you, kind reviewers. I'll always appreciate it.

I sort of accidentally stumbled upon this Re-something chapter title theme I have going on here. I kind of like it. I especially like it because the re- prefix can either mean again/anew or back/backward. oo I'm so accidentally profound! Of course, recession in this chapter's title either refers to the act of withdrawing or the act of ceding back to a previous possessor. Fitting? I certainly thought so!

Sorry for holding you up! shoos the reader away Go, go! Read! And tell me what you think!

Ino had lost track of how long they had stayed there, huddled together on the floor by the front door, Sakura's erratic breathing slowing, Ino's rapid heartbeat calming. Her left leg had long gone numb from where it was crushed into the floor and her tired muscles resumed their persistent aching. She was far too uncomfortable. She had to move.

She nudged Sakura gently with her shoulder and instantly the other girl sat up woodenly, her down-turned face hidden by her hair. Ino slowly unfolded her legs and dragged herself up to her feet, not saying anything as she headed to the kitchen and rifled through her cupboards to fetch a glass. Filling it with water from the tap, Ino returned to Sakura, crouching down easily and handed the glass over.

Sakura's fingers left sticky crimson smears across the glass as she accepted it silently, lifting it to her mouth and taking a mere sip. She winced with every swallow at first, then, either not caring about the pain of her throat or finding it waning, she drank the rest in great dramatic gulps. Ino took the glass from her gently, her eyes riveted to a faint red stain around the rim.

"Why are you bleeding, Sakura?" Ino's voice wavered slightly, though she kept her tone low and neutral.

Sakura raised a hand to her throat, rested it there. Because you just beat the shit out of me, Ino thought wryly. But when Sakura spoke, her voice was free from accusations; Ino heard only pain in her voice. "There are tears in my esophagus," she said quietly.

"What?" Ino was shocked. "What from?"

Sakura shrugged. "I've been getting sick a lot lately." And she left it at that.

Ino hesitated for a long minute before she rose, setting the glass down beside her keys, and then crouched again and took hold of Sakura's arms. "Come," she said, gently tugging. Sakura placed one hand against the door and half crawled up the wall, half let Ino pull her upright, her feet unsteady, weight shifting and swaying. "Whose jacket is this?" Ino asked her gently, catching hold of the oversized garment. When Sakura shrugged, it simply fell from her shoulders, so large was it that she didn't even have to move her arms to get it off. Ino was horrified to see that the black cloth was stiff with hardened blood in places, but she simply hung it up on a hook by the door.

Sakura followed Ino blindly, past the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Sakura looked worse than ever as the fluorescent light flicked on, her hair disheveled and lank and eyes so bloodshot and red-rimmed that they looked positively painful. Ino excused herself quietly, making a quick trip to her own bedroom to grab some clothes for Sakura to change into and then grabbing a spare towel from the closet before she returned, setting both down on the bathroom counter. Sakura was staring at herself in the mirror, her expression blank, eyes blinking slowly.

Ino raked back the shower curtain, the sound of the rings on the curtain rod so suddenly grating that Sakura looked startled, her eyes following Ino's delicate fingers as she pushed it aside, released it, and dropped to her side again. Ino nodded her head towards the shower. "Take as long as you need to," she said quietly, then simply turned and left, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Ino made her way back out of the corridor, heading over to her couch, hearing the water turn on, and sat down heavily, resting her elbows on her knees and hiding her face in her hands. She tried to quell that painful dryness in her throat, pressing the heel of her palms into her eye sockets hard to hold back the tears. She hated crying, if only because she had done so much of it after Sakura had left, but now, no matter how much she told herself that crying accomplished nothing, she couldn't stop. She made a conscious effort to still her heartbeat, to calm her breathing, to take control over the emotions that raged through her.

Twenty-fifth clause, Ino said to herself, over and over again. A shinobi must not show any emotion in any situation. A shinobi must have a heart that will not allow him to cry.

Ino clenched her fists tightly and struck herself in the face several times before relenting, inhaling deeply, a shuddering, unsteady breath. Fuck you, Sakura. Why did you have to come back?

Far too soon for Ino's liking, the water was off, and then Sakura's bare feet were softly padding down the corridor. Ino listened to her every movement – clumsy, whether from exhaustion or distress – as she approached, hesitated, then sat down on the couch, as far from Ino as she could manage.

Ino let her sit there in silence for a few minutes before she finally worked up the nerve to speak. "Why are you here?" Her tone was cold and unforgiving again, though her hands still hid the tears on her cheeks.

"I wanted to… I needed to…" Sakura's voice was so small.

"To?" Ino prompted her.

"I miss you," Sakura offered meekly. "I don't think I can make it alone anymore."

Ino smirked contemptuously. "Did you come back because you needed me, or because you needed someone?" Ino finally lowered her hands from her face, turning a quarter of the way towards Sakura, watching her with a single balefully bleary eye.

Sakura quailed under Ino's gaze. "I made a mistake," Sakura whispered. "I came to apologize."

"There was no mistake," Ino said, accusing. She turned away from Sakura, turned her gaze to the window, the view of the outside world obscured by the reflection of the lights behind them. Ino watched Sakura's reflection carefully, feeling somehow safer doing so, rather than actually having to face the real girl. Ino's clothes looked far too big for her, hanging off her narrow shoulders. "You came and went so often, I don't understand why I ever believed your promises to stay."

Sakura bit her lip, turned away, rested her chin on her knuckles, elbow propped up on the arm of the couch.

"This time is no different, is it? You come back when you need something from me, then run away when I need something back."

"That's not true," Sakura whispered, turning to look at Ino, her expression twisted and unreadable through her reflection.

"You're a parasite, Sakura." Ino's voice was a vehement hiss. "I'd like you to leave." Ino leaned forward to stand up, to go to the door, to open it for Sakura, but before she could even get off the couch Sakura's hand snapped up, caught Ino by the wrist, held on tight. Startled, Ino turned, was instantly snagged by Sakura's gaze, held frozen.

"I don't need someone," Sakura whispered. "I need you, Ino. I need you to accept my apology. I need you to take me back."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Ino sneered.

"No," Sakura whispered.

Ino lost her patience. "You treated me like I was trash, Sakura! You came into my home and insulted me and broke my heart and then you left!" She yanked her arm out of Sakura's grasp, recoiling from her touch. "You made me hate myself!"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing to me as if it makes a difference!" Ino stood up suddenly, paced away, turned back on Sakura and looked her dead in the eye. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to forget that you ever left?"

"No!" Sakura cried.

"Do you want me to pretend that you never broke my heart?"

"No," Sakura wept.

"I don't think I can ever forgive you, Sakura. I don't think you have anything to offer me that would make me want to."

"Ino, please."

"Please what!?" Ino screamed at her.

"I love you!" Sakura cried desperately.

Ino gritted her teeth and slapped the other girl as hard as she could. "Don't you fucking dare lie to me like that." Her fingers stung, and it made her feel a bit better.

"Its true," Sakura sobbed. "I always did, more than I ever knew. You were the only person who could ever make me feel good about myself."

"Oh, now, isn't that wonderful?" Ino mocked her. "You made a fool of me, Sakura. You rejected me."

"No, no," Sakura begged. "I rejected part of myself, because I didn't understand what I was feeling."

Ino laughed, loud, neurotic, scathing. "Oh, is that what that was?" She leaned in close, intimidating Sakura, dominating her, her voice low and dangerous. "What was it that you called me? A filthy whore? And what was it that you accused me of? Corrupting you? You made me out to be some sort of sexual predator."

"I didn't mean it," Sakura sobbed.

"Well, you made me believe it for over two years now, Sakura. For two years you made me think that I had made some horrible mistake, that I had made some awful presumption about you, about your sexuality---"

"This has nothing to do with your gender!" Sakura cried out.

Ino slapped her again, even harder. "Don't you fucking dare try to use my own words against me," Ino hissed.

"It's true," Sakura wept. "You were right, I was wrong, and I see that now. I saw it from the moment I left."

"Two years ago!" Ino screamed.

"And for two years I regretted saying those things to you! I desperately wish that I hadn't. You have no idea!"

"Oh, no," Ino mocked. "Regret? Heartbreak? Self-hatred? Those certainly aren't emotions that I'm familiar with."

"Ino, please---"

Ino rolled her eyes, straightened up, backed away a step. Sakura surged to her feet, grabbed at Ino's hands. When Ino tore free from the other girl's grasp, Sakura caught her by the shirt instead.

"Listen to me," Sakura pleaded. "I made a mistake—"

"That's about all you did," Ino snorted derisively.

"--- and I realize that. I can't do this without you, I can't be happy without you."

"You're delusional," Ino smirked. "You've hit rock bottom, and now you're just desperately flailing around for something to latch onto. You insult me."

"I need you, Ino," Sakura whispered. "And you need me, or else you would have never let me come inside."

Ino narrowed her eyes, showed her teeth in a feral sneer. "That's a pretty dangerous assumption to make," she snarled. "You've been gone a long time, Sakura. What makes you think I haven't changed? What makes you think that I haven't become everything you condemned me as?"

"Ino," Sakura breathed, her eyes wide, terrified.

Ino reveled in her complete and utter domination of the other girl, her predatory words buttressing the shallow contempt that she had come to depend on over the years, the hatred for the other girl that had stood as the only barrier between her and utter despair. Ino jolted forward, her face mere centimetres from Sakura, looking her up and down. "You have no idea what I want from you, sweet Sakura."

"I don't care what you take," Sakura whispered. "As long as you take it from me."

"You can't win this game," Ino warned her.

"I don't deserve to win it."

Ino crushed her mouth against Sakura's, so suddenly ferocious that she actually drove the medic back a step, made her stumble, almost made her fall over the couch. Sakura held tightly onto Ino, onto her shirt, and the blonde caught her by the waist, digging her fingers into her flesh, grinding her knuckles against Sakura's ribcage. Sakura made a tiny sound in her throat, a cry of surprise and pain. Ino forced her closer, almost cutting the other girls lips with her teeth, triumphant when Sakura began kissing her back.

Ino wanted to abuse Sakura, like Ino herself had been so abused by others since Sakura's absence. She wanted to destroy her, to tear her apart bit by bit, to make her hate herself more and more with every touch of Ino's delicate fingers, with every suicidal kiss, with every callous word. She wanted to bolster her own ego by crushing Sakura's – a hollow victory, but it was all that Ino wanted from her.

Ino wanted to use Sakura, to take whatever she needed from her, to prove to herself that she had shut the girl out of her heart forever, that she could never forgive her.

But somewhere, beneath the hatred and contempt, Ino felt dismay at Sakura's complete willingness to be victimized by her.

Dismay, and painful self-recognition.