He knew where he was, for the turns of the streets were integrated upon his mind after so many years of running, the gravel spoke well for direction. Though he could tell each path apart by the peaks of buildings surrounding as well, were his eyes not fixed to the ground. It was still so bright, that he assumed the time to be just past noon, for he had entered the cellar after the sun had risen but before it had reached height. He was conflicted, though the makings of a smile began to form as he thought, he allowed his head to raise a slight and see the sight of the beautiful displayed flowers in the shop just ahead of him. The flower shop an open display without any doors in the summer; even though the season had only just begun, the warmth of the day was still as tender as spring.

He saw the blonde he sought tending to a grouping of growing white lilies. Though larger than his own, her smile was vague in comparison to what it had been, slighted, shaken, and longing. It brought him to depression upon the thought, the remembrance, the blood of the soaked battlefields had cut into all that she had been.


For he had been present whence she had come onto the grounds- covered in crimson herself but energetic and ready for a battle that did not come. He had been there to watch as the understanding had fogged over her pale eyes and the horror had mounted upon her chest as she screamed hoarse; watched as she dropped to the soil beneath her and crawled in a desperate denial away from the gore in her vision. The tears had washed her face from the splatterings of blood and pooled upon her shaking hand which covered her mouth from another scream. Her royal purple clothes were stuck to her body with red, and the smears of the colour showed easily on her stomach and thighs, her hair no better as it stuck to her back with the colour. She had vomited, too inexperienced to act properly.

Naruto could recall plainly how her eyes were shot wide, as if stuck, frozen into a permanent position of grasping denial and horror. Her body had shook, and though awake, she had not been aware as a white mongrel of slime arose from the earth behind her. She had been too busy choking upon her bile, attempting to retain some measure of her mind into control to counteract the Zetsu crawling behind to ambush her. Naruto, remembered the pit formed in his abdomen as he watched her weakness, as if fearful for himself it had pushed his muscles into abrash action, his mind toiling as he moved at the concept of losing another, another person, another comrade, another friend, and he hadn't cared if she had been mean in past, no thought went into her opinion of him, he had simply found himself in action. Forming as firm a rasengan as he might with the minimal distance, and shoving it high into the supposed stomach of the creature that Zetsu was. His hands had shook, as fists afterwards, still he'd turn to comfort the woman whom -regardless of childish classroom barbs, he had come to respect.

She had turned to look at him, fear the only sight he could recognize coiling within her irises, shaken and damp with tears. He had not hid the fact that his cheeks were still wet with water, that his eyes were rimmed with pink, that his cheeks were raw and rosen from all the attempts he had made at wiping away the sorrow. Ino had known he was crying, and perhaps that had helped her stand to her feet, though shaken she had been, and her eyes strayed far from the sight of gore which had inflicted her. Fingers were shaking, he had seen, he knew that she was in shock, but as a woman with a shinobi background in her family she had bore it well, and jumped -quite literally, into the ensuing battle below.


The shock had not taken her, but it had done her harm; for after the war she had shifted away from who she had been in gayful ignorance, and instead had become a loyalist committed to the village, taking mission after mission, whenever one might be available for a jonin of her talents. She wore her chunin's vest in pride, and covered herself in the browns and greens of the forest- no purple upon her. She dawned no lip gloss, and her proud lengthened hair had been cut to a rogue's fashion. Yet, still, she dieted, she sat with her remaining comrades when she could, and drank in the bar, she had even laughed upon occasion. Naruto could smile at the memory, for several times he had been there too, though there were gatherings where he was -in precaution, not invited.

As it were, Ino, even within the aftershock of a bloodied war, still welcomed him as a friendship. It were not unreasonable to assume that she too possessed an irritation at his life upon occasion. That whilst he walked elsewhere, her respectable and compassionate gaze shifted unto one of remorse, questioning, though she had always strove to welcome him wholefully, kindred in the manner of respectful greeting and a desire for his company. She still bore a personal begrudgement which was never to be outwardly expressed.

He waved to her in greeting, hoping that her day might be better then those she had experienced previously. The trauma of battle had scarred her deep, and he had seen her once or twice baring the bane alone. A sorrowful weep by herself into the river, a cut of a kunai almost curiously placed upon her own thigh. From what little he knew, she was mostly recovered from her mourning and guilt ridden grieving. She cast him a smile as he approached, straightening the stock of a flower before her hands rested on her hips, expression becoming a somewhat playful one. "Well, well, Naruto, what brings you to my shop? Come to buy for a special someone?" It was teasing, the type he wasn't entirely familiar with, and the blush rose to his cheeks fast at the implication, already he could feel his nerves making his fingers twitch; and he wished for but a moment, that she had guessed his reasoning correctly.

It was nerves that had him bring his hand to rub at the back of his neck, the sun did already shine there in a burn, yet the uncertainty of his actions was unhelpful as a whole. "Actually, I came to ask you about something." He knew of her connection with the people of Intelligence and Interrogation, she had indeed made inclination to bring herself forth as the adapt woman for the rank-set and position of an interrogation officer, or indeed, as an intelligence divisionary. Naruto, found such an envisionment, suitable to her persona as it were, perhaps in following the course of her father, though it were more applicable to derive that she sought the placement for sake of retribution for Chouji's sordid death within the war. Had she a reckoning of his true intent, he had little doubt that she would hit him hard against the cheek, perhaps think him evil for his belief; for his attempt of action. "The Shi no Machiaishitsu." To watch, in near amusement as her entire visage alters at the mention, sharpened brows, a scowl, an obvious question upon her of how Naruto knew of a secretive prison when he only bore the minimal rank of genin.

"Naruto, that's not something you should mention, or even know about." Her pale eyes bore into his own, as if in answering a question he had not asked. For but a moment of incomprehension Naruto felt the need to leave her be, to abandon his self-appointed quest. For while it was true that he were not to know of the cellar as a genin, and in simply being himself -that is to say, the kyuubi vessel-; however, he was in the unique position of having been himself for all his life; and thus, he did know of the cellar:

The jibbering whispers of jounins when he had passed them as a child had unintentionally told him; many times they had spoken of how he should be chained in a place of confinement for the sake of caution. The distrust, malice, ire, hatred, and bile as they had said his name, their qualms in having him be a free-run, mostly, independent citizen. One of them had even taken to mentioning 'death's waiting room, that cellar, would be suitable, don't you think?' To one of his comrades in a conversation; and he'd earned a laugh for the comment. Thus, even as a child, Naruto had known that the place must have existed, somewhere.

Ino wore a harsh expression upon her, though her eyes were flickering about, and it was clear that she had a concern for him as her coiled fists did not remain still. The showcase of strength remained despite her obvious concern for his knowledge. "Ah well, I do, I was told a long time ago." It were not as if he lied, he had been told by negligent men who had not taken their jobs to proper consideration, as it were, he had already known that the majority of the village were discomforted by his presence, especially around their children; that had spoken enough to him of his difference within society, so finding out that he might be imprisoned had not been a terrible shock. He wondered how Ino could have considered him ignorant, she was born into a Shinobi line after all. "I know. And I think that the prisoners there should be better taken care of." He watched her fists coil, nails likely biting into her palms, control did take care to reign her only to a heavy sigh.

"Naruto- I know you're a good person. But that place is for the worst of the worst, they belong there." Then, to his own surprise in knowing her character, she turns to continue straightening out flowers that have no need to stand tall. It was made as a statement, as an acknowledgement, as if no other belief were to be acceptable. All morality which he himself had been debating with in the circumstance of his own knowledge arose, fighting the very prospect of deserved brutality, which his friend had just broadcast as a reasonable punishment. His hand to burn within the sun fled his pocket to grasp at her floundering arm, gripping and drawing her attention. Her glare is steady, presently, a near dare to take action as pale eyes of blue-bells stare within his own irises of anemone; however, the difference is plain, for while in previous where his stare would have remained resolute, it fluctuated, and hers did not. His hand dropped, his stare remained upon her almost in a plea for an inch of understanding. For Naruto knew, if she was aware of whom he was attempting to aid, she would hate; possibly hit him for treachery.

A grace of something appeared to infract her, a moment, an astraying thought, for she did sigh. "Not even I know who's imprisoned there, but maybe, I've allowed myself to get a little biased with the war. Thinking that every villain is as bad as- well, I know some people on the guard rotation, I can ask them to send in some more food for the poor bastards alright?" A compromise, and the emboldened blond found himself grinning for her response. Ino was nearing an advantageous position within the Interrogation Unit; one of the few ranks of shinobi knowledgeable of the cellar, and certainly her opinion would be one respected by the guards enough to be considered acceptable. Obviously, she noticed his pleasure in her answer by the -now- unusual grin he bore, her hand finding her hip, sass displayed while she shook her head in disapproval with a compassionate smile upon her lips. "You're too nice for your own good Naruto." A somber note graced the air with her sentence, a tugging string which both of them weakly acknowledged by dropping their carefree smiles.

The Jounin woman took a deep breath, finding a strength within her as she dropped her hand from her hip. Reality clashed hard upon her in staring upon Naruto's rather melancholy visage; he knew she was evaluating him as it was done. He made not a comment on it though, used to the feel of protruding eyes, already he was comforted by the fact that she wasn't attempting to stab through his clothing with an ironcast glare. "I actually wanted to ask." She began, and he wondered what she might say. As it was, Naruto knew he was inept at social constructs, proper action or inaction at particular times, the boundaries of kindness and humor. "How've you been holding up? I know there's been some…" He watched her foot shuffle at the dirt, nerves he could recognize, her jugular bobbed in hesitation, and for a moment she seemed to just watch him. Alas, with his experience, he could only watch her back, he had only a guess of what she was talking about, so when she met his eyes he could only blink in incomprehension for her good intentions. Her snort was his only indication that she understood; he was clueless. "Are you alright?" She re-asked, in a more plain distinction, still, Naruto didn't know what she spoke of.

"Yeah, of course, I'm just fine, always am dontcha know." It was automatic, it was instinctual, his grin came upon him then, faked and painful upon the dimples within his cheeks. Painful, as the sun burned upon his face, and even as the grin he was so familiar with had formed in mere bodily instinct, it fell quickly for the strength to uphold the illusion failed him in a sudden loss of character he had never experienced before. As if the need to uphold the stylings of a happy man, to keep the sight of a dedicated shinobi, a bright and proud genin; had gone.

A blank express formed upon him in the fall of his grin, only for a moment, then his eyes upturned once more in a smile that Ino could not recognize; a complacent appearance, the hastily formed mask of a man already mentality scared enough to know when to fake happiness for the sake of societal comfort. It was a misfortune unto Naruto that he stood before a woman trained in recognizing the illusion he cast. For she met his eyes, in their bleak sight, and crossed her arms tight across her chest. He did not understand why, until she spoke again, and explained both her actions and her previous questions. "I know you were affected too, Naruto. It shook you up, I know that, I might not have been there as you were for me, but I know you must've cried too." Something clamped in his organs at the reminder, the implication of what had occurred, his own reaction; and his own want to deny that death, swam within him and barred his insides from moving properly in grief of the fact. Still, that very same reaction had happened so many times in his mind he was able to stop himself from shouting out against the statement. Tears gathered at his lids instead, and he waited for Ino to continue upon the topic, but she made no move to push. "I heard about the fight with Sakura."

His jugular twisted as his organs released, and his tension eased, if only slightly; it was a recognizable subject. Within himself, with the intellect he had, he knew that she had not left the topic he so wanted to avoid, he knew she was making a detour that held the same focus. It wasn't truly better to discuss, though it did not invoke him to want for violence, to want for the confines of an endarkened chamber to hide himself within. He shuffled his foot against the stones of the path much as she had, shoved his hand once again into his pocket, looked away to the direction of the river where he might avoid the conversation. "I'm sorry she said that to you." It was a weak apology, having not come from the lips of the transgressor, still he struggled away Ino's abashed apology, for she seemed almost embarrassed for her friend's misdeed; and to him, it weren't her place to be so. "It was out of line, and… cruel, even for someone in mourning pains, she went too far." There was an empathy hidden in Ino's tone, and Naruto could well see it, he knew that the Yamanaka before him was one of the few people who could understand Sakura well, and he was not; he did not understand his teammate's pains, pleasures, drives, or goals, him and the pink-haired woman were grown too different in childhood and in adolescence to properly comprehend each other's mindsets.

Ino made to sigh once again, and he watched her face twist in irritation of the situation they spoke of. Her hand to her forehead, and her fingers massaging at her temple, she scowled. Though he did not know if it were for her friend, or for herself, she was strained by a stress he did not comprehend. Both her hands found her hips and she stared upon the ground as if it would readily give an answer for her issue. "Honestly, I don't know if I should even talk to her anymore. Not as a friend anyway." It grasped him to hear her speak so candidly about a woman he knew she'd been friends with since childhood, and Naruto shook at the revelation that hers and Sakura's relationship might have been severed by a misplaced outcried anger. Though he said nothing, her eyes darted back to his and she offered him a comforted smile that did not reach her own expression, much as he was familiar with the sight, to see it outcast of his own mirror panged him as strange. "Don't worry Naruto, this isn't about you. Just about the person she has become to speak in such a way, I thought I knew her." In an effort, he pushes away the satisfaction her answer brings him to draw upon what he knew about the woman Sakura had been, to whom she now presented as, what might have inflicted her to the forefront of his own entangled mind.

"You do." He places, finding himself in the discomforting position of easing the situation. "She's dealing with everything too, I just think she's dealing differently then most." It was all he could think to say, his teammates mind had always been a mystery to him, he could not properly see within a woman who'd dealt with such little strife in childhood, whom had always known a warm home to return home to, he couldn't comprehend her methodology to anything; especially mourning. Even so, he outstretched his hand once again from the safety of protection and lay it onto his friend's shoulder. "People change with grief, you did." A cord strikes in her then, and his hand gets slapped away, from where it had been a comfort before. To the feeling that she had been harbouring, she turns, her entire body, her disposition shifts into a defense as her body goes tense, Naruto doesn't comprehend her action.

"I know people change, but its been a year! She needs to grow up!" Was it a rejection? That was as it seemed, to the blond at least; watching his friend shift so drastically from rationality to harsh criticism, she appeared venomous towards the concept. Then he saw from his position behind her, though obscured, he could see the tips of her fingers tremble around her elbows, her arms shaking ever so slightly. Her chin was held high and for all whom took a glace in passing by, merely saw an angry woman in an argument. Her head tilted towards him, and he could see the anger refracted in her eyes: "She's still ignoring you is she not?" She did not bother to wait for his answer, as if already in knowledge of his compromising response. "Well there you go, it's childish! I'm sick of dealing with her like this!" It looked to be a fit, the manner in which she stomped her foot into the ground in a type of resolution of her own conviction, the way which her fingers had coiled into fists shaking by her side.

Naruto gazed in silence, a quiet descended upon him in sympathy with her emotions, yet, he found himself in disagreement. The odd feeling of opposition upon him, despite his own understanding of her irritation and lamentation; in spite of his own want to outcry to lament just as she was. "Ino…" He spoke so softly, he himself doubted she could hear him amongst the sound of her own thoughts raging inside. Merely, she was silent, she said nothing, and he took the opportunity to speak further. "She's just bad at dealing with it." For that's all he could contrive from Sakura's actions; he could comprehend her ignoring him, he had little qualm with her emerald cast stare save the cold it brought to his chest in knowledge. "Just give her some time." Hesitant, he took a fragile step towards the tensed figure afore him, already knowing there was a pain within Ino that he did not yet fully know, he could not properly comfort her therein, but he clung to the ideal that he may be able to offer an aid of sorts.

"She's had a year, she works at the damned hospital, you'd think she would have acknowledged it already in witnessing all the death there: Reality is harsh, life isn't fair, she needs to finally step away from her denial and look at the world around her, see the things she's lost and the things she still has, and accept what she sees. Otherwise, she will never move forward, because right now; she's just living with her memories and regrets." In his own insight he could make sense of her reasoning, to his own extent he could understand and notice his own failure to do so. Ino then seemed to shake herself away from the strife she had been facing, and turned towards him once more, the ghosting of a smile upon her, as if the anger had never truly been. "It's not something we should keep talking about. I'd like a cup of tea to settle myself, how about you?" She walked around while speaking, bent down to retrieve an old dusted sign of wood, painted with the words 'Temporarily Out' and strung it up on the wall by her flowers; not many citizens would have the gall to steal from a shinobi run establishment after all.

Naruto found himself calmed by her sudden disposition, by her want to ebb away the sorrows she was hiddenly feeling with a simple cup of tea, and agreed for his own sake to join her as invited. "Long as its not an interrogation!" He made himself to joke, to lighten the atmosphere, and she smiled fully at him for the effort made. He put his hands behind his head, finding himself suddenly at comfort with her presence.

"Maybe it is, maybe I'm gonna find out who you have a crush on!" She too joked, and though both of them were still a fraction somber from their conversation, they eased with the simple barbs of friendship made. A small giggle even escaped the two shinobi in harmony as they took to walking side-by-side, making small jests in lue of each other and the occasional odd sight around. It weren't a joyous aura which enveloped the two, though calm, relaxation; an emote so rarely broadcast by any shinobi.

Nearby them two, there was a tea shop. Quaint in all showcase, simplistic to the margins of Naruto's own acknowledged environments; he knew well the place for its own allowance of his presence despite the controversy made therein. A small exterior, not boasted in advertisement, plaincast in wooden and paper outside; seen often as traditionalistic, an outcast amongst modernization which was so protruding against the architecture and designs of culture. There were no chairs within, just the cushions to pad ones knees, sencha green in colour to match the lingering brown shade furniture that did exist. They two entered with a warm greeting of entry, returned in welcome; by the elderly owner who sat at the back, quietly sipping at her own cup whilst watching her grandchildren topple over each other. Both Naruto and Ino nodded to the sight, a normality they both knew, for they sat within the shop often drinking tea together; thus by their own frequency, they took their spots at their normal table, and the one girl in a plain yukata who serviced the establishment asked if they wished for their normal orders. The girl's smile was sweetened as she looked at Naruto, affectionate eyes in sparkle with a compassionate gleem of honeyed brown, her cheeks flushed a tender pinkened tone just visible within the sun's lighting, whence he looked properly at her. Her hands fiddled with the fabric of her dulled blue yutaka, nerves portrayed easily as she stuttered her understanding of their order; Naruto had found himself hungering for a difference, a divergence from the common sencha he ordered, and instead ordered a matcha green.

Ino was more focused on observing the young girl gazing upon Naruto with a glittering gaze, and she had merely -automatically, requested for her normal tea. Naruto watched the girl stumble away to make the tea, a little sigh coming from him as she did so a simper of sympathy on him, he turned his attention to his companion who had a long questioning eyebrow raised. "Crush much?" Not a true question, as it was an obvious fact which the poor serving girl did not seem to notice. He made denial by looking to the street outwards.

"I only helped her get the job here. That's all." He had no true interest in the young girl, and hoped that the woman beside him would simply make acknowledgement of that fact and leave it to the wind. Ino did little more then smile at him, an affection resided somewhere within the depths of her own irises, though Naruto could not put a name to the emotion he saw.

"Of course you did." Once again, she made a statement, and though disrespectful to tradition; she rested both her elbows and arms on the tea table her head hung to stare at the wood, a melancholy smile expressed upon her; and Naruto could not find a reason as to why; where she had been so calm and while perhaps not entirely joyful she had certainly been content, just previously. He continued his own staring to the outdoors and left her to her silence, finding himself in a -naturally- different type of comfort around Ino then he had with Madara. It was noon, though the atmosphere within the small room gave the impression of a soothing evening with the glowful sunlight turning nearly orange through the paper doors, a glow unto the wood. "Say…" Ino began, her voice trailing, and as he turned to look at her she moved her gaze to the outdoors. He tilted his head in await for the rest of her sentence; "-say, have you ever loved someone… like that?" Cerulean eyes blinked, long eyelashes flickered quickly up and down in confusion for the question; though he knew what she meant.

His stomach coiled as he thought about what she was implying whilst her expression was so marred with sadness. Asking unto himself, if she had been in love with Chouji before his death, and if that was why she was curious if he had felt similarly, so that he may sympathise with her. He felt his own hair dip as his head bowed staring upon his own hands coiling on the fabric of his knees, felt his breathing shake a slight as he considered his answer for the words clogged within his throat by the memories arisen. It was not a reaction he wanted to consider with the happiness of the past he could recall, still his eye spilt a tear. "Once." Voice shuttered, they had never been so serious in the tea shop, always meandering through light topics that spared no second thoughts- things that would only bring a laugh, never a tear. He watched the light of the sun, upon the darkened side of his hands, compared to his light palm, and though it did not burn it seemed to sting more prominent as the recollections of the love he'd had came unto the fore of his mind once more.

Whispered though it was, he heard her repeat his answer, but he hadn't the strength to look up at her. It were as if his eyes were chained to stare downwards, as if his hands were barricaded to only shake upon his knees in the torture of the sun, his hair his face only protected by staring downwards. Voice, as the rest of him, felt chained immoble, and he made no attempt to answer his friend's invisible question. Silence prevailed over them and hung as a cloud in the daunting process of beginning a storm. It lasted stretched minutes, until finally, their cups were placed afore them and the subtle sound interrupted thought, the fragile smell of tea calmed his senses back into capacity. Slowly he managed to raise his head and meet the curious, yet saddened stare of his friend, offering a small smile to curve his lips as he slowly managed to grip his cup, the curves of the clay matching those of his fingers. Then watch as the liquid within rippled for the added stock he added to the tea. To look upon her, to seek her hydrangea blue irises and their gleam of unshed tears, he forced himself to drink away the hesitance blockading his throat, to tell her the truth of himself, for she had always retained herself as a person -at least within the last year, that she could be trusted.

"Yes. You can probably guess who; he died after all." There weren't much else to say, for as he brought the cup to his lips he saw her blink; and her tears made their descent down her cheeks. To ponder what she thought in the midst of a quiet moment, he forced himself not to take up action and flee from the room. An uncertainty curved her lips, but she made no move to ask who, nor any sign of disapproval for his affection towards a man whom would have never retained the emotion- a man who would have been imprisoned within their own village. So they both knew, his friend before him appeared only as resolute to the fact he had just conveyed upon her, no shock shown unto her expression. Rather, she took her own cup to take a drink of her own, a small, cautious amusement tilting her smile.

"I guess that's not a surprise. You guys were rather close, suspiciously close." He made no denial, and despite the knowledge surrounding them both, neither of them bothered to make an acknowledgement unto it. It was a task upon Naruto as it bore down on his chest, a repression of emotion he had no true want to make as it stung deep within his very lungs as he tried to breathe in regular. Yet, by the buried will he'd manifested over years he brought himself to smile along with her, even as her smile was as strained as his own in that moment, their eyes cast to the table both awaiting to blink away the tears building within. Two hearts clenched in that moment, but in glancing at each other and knowing they both ached; was a comfort unto them both, rather than an embarrassment. Though as it were, Ino's irises lingered far longer upon the quiet visage that Naruto's face became after confession, her own guilt obvious; while Naruto payed no particular attention to the trial she had kept locked carefully within her eyes, the tender gaze she bore that he did not see.

Stretching as he did so, the sores and pains of a body yet too young to hold such scars, he stood. It weren't the same intensity as the grin he might've made, but he still gave a closed-eye smile to his friend. "Well, I'm gonna head out, we'll talk later, yeah?" She nodded, not bothering to speak, Naruto presumed that with the topic still lingering she hadn't the want to force a possibly cracked voice. He took her smile upwards to be an acceptance, and as she always did, Ino paid the bill.