Fifteen: Retract

Author's Note: As of tomorrow, technically, I'm finished school for the semester and free for the month! But… I'm still probably going to end up doing research on Christmas Eve for any one of my four 32+ page essays that are going to be coming up due in the new semester. I am defeated.

The good news is, I've been giving much more thought to finishing up this story than I was earlier in the semester! The bad news is, this story is still a mess.

I am defeated.

Enjoy!

Tenten was finding patience difficult to come by. Every glance at Sakura revealed her to be in various states of breakdown, and every glance at Ino showed only malicious disinterest or some combination of affection and manipulation. Tenten had known these girls their entire lives, and yet both had been rendered almost unrecognizable by the various pressures of being a shinobi. They all had been, in fact. She remembered how strained things could be even with her own team; Rock Lee had lost that outgoing zeal, becoming more introspective than Tenten ever thought possible, and the chip on Neji's shoulder had grown bigger than ever, often revealing itself through insufferable arrogance. Tenten was sure she had changed as well, though she wasn't quite certain how.

She knew what Sakura's problem was, of course. They all did. The kunoichi was cracking under the pressure of living the paradox of a healer that kills… or was it a killer that heals? Other shinobi had the luxury of turning away from the blood once the violence was over, but Sakura was forced literally elbow-deep in the consequences of these confrontations. Sakura had had more human lives bleed out through her very fingers than Tenten could even imagine, made worse by the ridiculous demands and unreachable expectations placed on her as the prodigal apprentice of the legendary Tsunade. As much as she sympathized with her, though, Tenten couldn't help but find Sakura's distress… troublesome. If not downright frightening.

And Ino, of course, made everything worse by trivializing the whole affair. In the blonde's eyes, Sakura's crisis of the self was just about as important as asking if something was white with black stripes or black with white stripes – a non-issue. While Ino had always had a rather prominent mean-streak, this had blossomed into outright licentious sadism over the years. Killing was too easy for her, not simply part of her job but part of her lifestyle. Maybe she was exaggerating, but that was certainly the face that Ino put on in this whole affair. No doubt she had her own complexes to work through, but she hid them as well as ever, behind that pretty face, behind that confidence and skill. Ino's unusual familiarity with how easily a mind can be lost, displaced, was troublesome. More than that – it was downright frightening.

And Tenten had been left in command of a three-man cell that was two parts ticking time bomb.

She wanted to help, she really did. But what could she do? Tell Ino to stop being a bitch? Tell Sakura to get over herself?

She wanted to ignore the whole issue, as well. Hope it somehow resolved itself, or at the very least, didn't get them in any trouble. At least Ino could handle herself in a fight, and quite capably at that. Sakura, though, was becoming more and more of a liability. Although the fighting techniques that had been literally beaten into her muscular memory over the years remained intact, her reaction time was considerably slowed, her chakra control was amateur at best, and her stamina – physical and psychological – was practically nil.

Damn it.

Tenten rubbed at her face with both hands, wishing fervently that she was not trapped in this whole situation, but knowing she had to at least try to do something about it. She sighed, the exhalation heavy with resignation.

This is has gotten too ugly.

Her attention caught by motion in her peripheral vision, Ino glanced up from her severely depleted collection of shuriken and kunai to watch Tenten rise and slowly approach Sakura. The pink-haired kunoichi had been sitting in the same spot for nearly half an hour, her knees drawn up with her arms draped loosely over them. Her hair and clothes – and Ino's as well – were still damp from the forced dunking in a nearby stream, though her skin had lost its ruddy glow after the vigorous scrubbing she had undergone to get that horrid oil off of her.

Sakura was as sullen and pitiful as ever.

Losing interest in her own equipment, Ino began slowly and methodically replacing the weapons into her pack, her eyes on the other two girls. Tenten knelt in front of Sakura, called her name, and received a numb, distracted glance. Whatever else she said after that initial greeting was lost across the distance, so Ino pulled herself up to her feet and made her way over.

"Calm down," Tenten was telling Sakura quietly.

Sakura kept shaking her head slowly, and there were tears in her eyes.

Pathetic, Ino thought, albeit momentarily. And then there was her heart – her damn traitorous heart – drawing her even nearer.

"I know you're tired," Tenten was whispering, sympathy clear in her voice. "I know you're sick and hurt—"

"I can't –" Sakura began, but the brunette cut her off by reaching out and grasping both of her hands, untangling her arms from around her knees.

"We need you, Sakura. All of Konoha needs you. Remember your vow, your purpose."

Sakura pulled her hands out from Tenten's grasp, turning her face to the side and resting her cheek against her knee. Her eyes were glistening with tears when she blinked them shut and kept them closed.

Ino felt that awful lump in her throat, felt stinging tears spring into her own eyes. She furrowed her brow and pinched the bridge of her nose until it passed, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw Tenten staring up at her, angry and frustrated, misunderstanding the entire gesture. Ino sighed, took a single step towards Sakura, and then halted as Tenten surged to her feet, heading her off and droving her back a step.

"You need to do something," Tenten hissed.

"Do what?" Ino snarled, taken aback by Tenten's unusually confrontational approach. "I'm not her keeper."

Tenten slapped her. Hard. A stinging blow that spun her a quarter of the way around and forced her to blink her vision clear. Shocked, angered, Ino turned back, a single kunai appearing in her left hand – and froze, Tenten's own knife pressing against the edge of her eye socket.

"Stop," Tenten snapped.

Ino tossed the knife point-first into the dirt between their feet and raised her empty palms in submission. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Force of habit."

"I'm starting to tire of your habits. You need to stop torturing her---"

"Torture!" Ino interjected vehemently.

"You may not be the cause of the problem but you're certainly not making things any better!" Tenten was struggling to keep her voice down but not doing a very good job of it.

"And how do you expect me to make this any better? What should I do, waltz over there, give her a big hug and tell her everything is going to be okay? Or should I do what just did and talk to her about duty and responsibility and tell her to just get over it?"

"I'm getting really sick of your attitude, Ino."

"Oh, is that it?"

"Getting really sick of your insubordination," Tenten added darkly.

"Aren't we all equals here?" Ino hissed. "Aren't we all friends?"

"Not at this point," Tenten snapped. "I'm really starting to see why Godaime-sama saw you as unfit to lead this mission."

Ino visibly recoiled, lost some of her confidence, lost nearly all of her imposing force. "That was low," Ino whispered, half horrified. "That was really low." She began to turn away when Tenten caught hold of her arm and held her fast.

"You really need to learn how to work as part of a team," she told her, "because right now this mission is crippled."

Ino pulled her arm free and glanced past Tenten at Sakura, who was now standing and watching the two of them with significant apprehension, then turned her attention back to Tenten. She wasn't quite sure what she could say. This was an argument already lost, as much as it irritated her to admit it.

"I just don't ---"

"I don't care what you think," Tenten snapped, frustrated. "Just get it together and stop hurting her."

Ino narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Don't get into this."

"How can I not, Ino?" the brunette demanded, exasperated. "How do you expect me to avoid something that could very well get us all killed?"

"Don't," Ino warned.

"Do you love her or not?" Tenten asked, point-blank.

Put on the spot, Ino suddenly found this entire conversation unbearably uncomfortable. She surged forward, pushing Tenten back a step, forcing herself to keep her tightly-clenched fists at her side. "You have no fucking idea what you're talking about!" she snarled, eyes flashing, gritting her teeth. "This is not your place!"

Ino raised her arms to shove the brunette away when there was sudden motion at her side, and then sudden warmth. Sakura was there, interposing herself between them, one arm wrapping around Ino as she pressed her cheek against the blonde's. Stunned, Ino fell silent, froze.

"Stop," Sakura murmured in her ear.

Instinctively, Ino raised her right hand, wrapped her fingertips around Sakura's waist. She matched Tenten's gaze until the other girl turned away.

It was amazing, really. How Sakura could be so small, so vulnerable, so pathetic, and yet still make Ino feel more trapped, more threatened, than ever.