Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Pairings: InoXShika and onesided InoXSasuke
Author's Note: I do apologize for not updating. But I'm back on track now :]
Chapter Three:
Accusations
"I…I really don't know." Her head tilted to the side.
"And you're not afraid?" he questioned.
Ring. Ring.
"Would you be?" she countered.
He readjusted his glasses, "I might."
The water was warm, clear and pure. She scrubbed her skin roughly, raking her nails upon the fine porcelain colored flesh. "And you're not afraid?" His last question dug into her, almost painfully as if consuming her body in a fine lair of smoldering ashes. "I'm not scared," she assured herself, answering the inquiry although knowing the response was late. It echoed off the delicately tiled bathroom. Resting against the cold bathtub, she continued to scrub, turning a bright shade of pink. "I'm not scared at all," the blonde repeated, eyes clear and blue, like the water surrounding her.
Reality was harsh, grating against her mind relentlessly. The expectations of a glamorous lifestyle paled in comparison to the actuality. Everything had fallen through. She was a butterfly, beautiful and wondrous but trapped in the inescapable glass prison of fame. The cameras blinding her, causing her wings to still. "I'm not scared," Ino stated, exhaustion threatening to soothingly guide her underneath the surface of the bathwaters. Cloaked in self-inflicted scratch marks, she lay there, raw and unmoving. The ceiling light had somehow brightened in her vision, reminiscent of the sun peering through a glass room– so similar to the childhood sunshine shining down upon her through the greenhouse where she tended to her parent's flowers.
"Why would I be afraid?" she questioned, lifting a wrinkled finger to the ceiling, reaching for the light. The chemicals would make her beautiful. They would make her feel beautiful. There was nothing wrong with that. After all, she was Yamanaka Ino. She was beautiful. She was loved.
The cameras flashed sporadically, clicking as she walked to the stage, graceful movements captivating the audience. The train of her navy dress slid its way upon the red rug. The blonde stood in front of the movie poster, smiling brightly, posing with a hand upon her hip. The flashes increased, almost blinding. Flaxen hair hung pendulously, gently curled and tucked behind her right ear to reveal a chandelier earing. Her cerulean eyes sparkled. The star shone brightly, illuminated by the stage lights and camera flashes though brilliant in her own right.
"Miss Yamanaka, please proceed to your seat. The press conference will continue shortly." She nodded politely as the black suited man gestured towards the table further along the stage. The dress, short in the front and long in the back appeared the float along the ground as she walked, her silver heels glided across as if she was sliding on ice. Ever elegant, Ino sat, legs crossed, a smile still painted upon her face greeting her co-star, Sasuke, with a brief hello. "We will now proceed with the question portion of the press conference," the same man announced into the microphone.
A reporter spoke into the microphone. "Yes, well Mr. Uchiha, are you and Miss Yamanaka currently in a relationship?"
He laughed into his own microphone, answering in a husky voice. "No, at the moment, we are not. However, I cannot speak for the future. After all, we do have a dinner date later this week." There was a great deal of noise in the audience.
Another reporter seized this opportunity and asked a question, recording device in hand. "Miss Yamanaka, I have heard rumors that you have been seeking psychiatric treatment. Would you please clarify these rumors?" The whole world seemed to silence.
The blonde re-tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "These rumors are false," she responded, fake mask plastered upon her seemingly carefree demeanor. Under the table her left hand gripped the edge of her dress tightly.
"Miss Yamanaka, have you had any cosmetic procedures performed?" another man in the crowd questioned into the microphone, voice projected in the spacious building.
Again, she responded in a charming voice, "No, I'm afraid I am just actually this beautiful." A soft laughter was heard through the crowd. Her knuckles turned a shade of powder white.
"Listen, normally I wouldn't be doing this but I think that it's in her best intere–" Shikamaru spoke carefully into his phone, newspaper upon his mahogany desk, headline with a bold Yamanaka Ino printed upon it. The coffee steam rose up to fog his glasses as he listened to the warbling coming from the other end. "Yes, but Miss Yamanaka cannot handle stress of this sort. You must prevent these articles from surfacing. Alright," he sighed, on the losing end of the argument, "Have a nice day. Goodbye, sir."
The doctor lethargically fished a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wiped the lenses of his glasses. "What a drag," he mumbled, gathering his belongings from his office, "I suppose I'll have to pay her a visit, now."
"May I come in, Ms. Yamanaka?" Shikamaru inquired, briefcase in his hands, donning a rather exhausted expression. "Your security team is very thorough," he mentioned briefly, modest white collared shirt professionalizing his naturally relaxed style. He was dressed just averagely simple for a person appearing at the front door of a mansion estate owned by an internationally renowned actress.
"Of course, doctor," Ino replied, a masterpiece to behold even with minimal makeup and everyday clothing. In comparison, to her usual extravagant appearance, Shikamaru concluded that the actress had hastily dressed after waking to the sound of the doorbell at four in the morning. Her attire, a white shirt and jeans, created a horrible contrast with his outfit. As he stepped into the building, his shoes, relatively new and expensive, seemingly marred the luxury of the marble flooring. The glittering chandelier appeared on the verge of collapse in an attempt to conceal his presence. Without even pausing to register the situation, Shikamaru knew. He was out of place, and awfully so. He was the supporting character. He might fit somewhere into the plotline, but it was not his place to be remembered. He knew his role and with no complications, he would stay within these bounds willingly.
"I wasn't expecting visitors today," the flaxen-haired actress groggily stated, guiding him down the hall, "I hope you will excuse the mess." She turned to gaze at him. The man replied simply, noting no mess, instead noting her un-tinted orbs. The doctor gave a perfunctory response accepting her words with ease. There was something vulnerable about the state he viewed her in at the moment. The cerulean eyed girl was noticeably human. She was not a star right now. She was not a celebrity. She was a girl, too much pressure placed upon her fragile shoulders. The weight of reality rested upon her.
"I'm quite thirsty," the brunette informed her as he seated himself upon a rather ornate chair in the living room, the blonde taking the hint quite easily and heading to the kitchen with a simple nod of the head. He made mental notes, commenting on the orderly appearance of the household, a seemingly empty void of space. The kitchen was spotless, untouched. The living room smelled of candles. It was surprisingly empty – no pictures, no people, no sounds.
She returned shortly, and he only observed. Ino sat and placed the water upon a coaster and seemingly paused, struck by the unfamiliarity of an item placed upon it. He cleared his throat, strangely uncomfortable. "I heard the news," Shikamaru began, gratefully taking a short sip of icy water. His client met his eyes, quickly turning from the piece of furniture. "How are you dealing with this?" he asked softly, her actions curiously weakening his resolve.
"It's alright I suppose," Ino replied, "A bit stressful. But tell me doctor, why are you here so early? Even the paparazzi aren't awake." She indulged in a relaxed laugh. He grinned slightly, amused at the way she lifted a hand to shield her mouth. It was oddly endearing, but when the processed the situation, he quickly regained control and pressed his lips into a straight line once more.
The man gathered his thoughts, exasperated sigh indicating the difficulty of such a strenuous task. "Everything that occurs between the two of us is confidential information," the doctor assured "I am not to disclose any information to any outside source." Ino looked stunned, at an instant realizing his implications.
"So even if you didn't leak this information to the press which I am sure you did. For all I know, my management has signed a contract with some magazine to disclose anything that happens within these 'confidential discussions.' I can't believe I even told you anything. Good luck trying to diagnose whatever disease I have. Go ahead, please, fell free to tell the world I'm insane! Make whatever money you can, I don't care! That's all I am right? Just a way for people like you to make money." He sat in silence. He had expected this.
Shikamaru sighed once again. "Miss Yamanaka, don't jump to conclusions. If I had been guilty would I be here right now? Besides, I've always had an antipathy for money. It's not quite satisfying enough for this line of work," he logically reasoned, attempting to lower her guard.
"It's funny. You know how I feel so well. Money is not worth the scandalous invasion of privacy I suffer from people like you." Ino retorted with noticeable distaste, stiffly repositioning herself on the intricately carved wooden seat.
"Originally, I did not have the intention of offending you. I just wanted to clarify the truth before you made any false deductions which, quite expectedly, you did. But right now, I frankly don't care what you perceive me to be. It seems that honesty does not sit quite well with you. Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave." The boy bowed stiffly, briefcase in hand. "Goodbye Miss Yamanaka. I will not be seeing you again." It wasn't his place to be here. He knew that. He was just a supporting character. He had no right to be here. He had no right to say those things. He knew that, but he had decided to ignore it. He knew his role, but rejected it deciding instead to leave his position vacant for another forgettable face, for another average man to feel awkwardly out of place.
She let out an incredulous breath over, "A little rumor? It's not just a little rumor. I'll never be a legitimate actress when they find out that I have to go to therapy for passing out from some drug that I got from you. We need damage control!" Fuming, the actress stood stiffly at the door of his office unable to tolerate his explanation.
Her manager let out a breath of smoke, "Calm down, Ino. We'll handle it after it generates enough buzz."
The girl paused. "You did this?" she whispered in disbelief.
Her reality was crumbling.
"Of course, your new movie is coming up. We need all the publicity we can get," he responded, taking another drag. She coughed at the building smell of smoke.
The scissors snipped at the material of the tabloids.
Too thin? Ino Yamanaka's battle with anorexia.
The scraps littered the floor, the headlines placed in an organized pile.
Her tantrums behind stage. The true story of how it happened.
The tears streamed from her eyes. Her hands continued to move.
"Yes, I'm addicted." Her shocking confession.
She slid the titles into a box, filled with other cutouts. The weight of reality fell down upon her.
Mental breakdown? What was she doing at a psychiatric clinic?
"This isn't real. It's not real." Ino placed the scissors upon the table, next to his half-empty glass which had sat upon the table since morning, and picked up a bottle, amber fluid inside. The needle slowly absorbed all of it, a pungent aroma filling the night air. She took the tip and carefully injected the liquid into her arm. All was silent. Crystal clear eyes were clouded with violet fumes and deep green shadows. The world was beautiful once more. She smiled. She was beautiful. She was beautiful again. This was reality. This was real.
"They're beautiful," Ino thanked, graciously accepting the bouquet, "Thank you, Sasuke."
The red roses were classically beautiful, petals perfectly positioned. It was just like a movie. She was living the movie. She was the female lead. He was her love interest. The movie had just begun, it was just beginning. But to her, it wasn't just a film. This was her reality – others' fantasies.
Sasuke entered, seemingly examining the foyer chandelier as Ino handed the flowers to a nearby maid. It was early evening and the reporters were swarming. The guards hastily closed the heavy mahogany doors and locked it behind him. "Your home is beautiful," he commented, voice lingering in the thick air. The two stood, matching the expensive furniture flawlessly. It was perfect.
"I'm terribly sorry, I was in the middle of fixing my shoes when you arrived," the flaxen-haired actress. The onyx eyed actor cast a quick, sweeping glance to her heels before kneeling down to adjust the straps accordingly. He was perfect. From his handsome features to his gentlemanly actions, he was the perfect man.
Standing swiftly once more, he offered her his arm and a kind smile, "Shall we head to dinner?" Her heart fluttered. Everything was in place so she gracefully took her place. It was meant to be. She was sure. There was nothing to fear.
Thanks for reading.
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