My Own Worst Enemy

Chapter 4 - Late Night Talks and Moonlit Walks

Shikamaru sighed. He’d taken Ino to get some dinner after the Hokage was through with them, but neither of them had much of an appetite. They had picked at the food, eating next to nothing, and Shikamaru couldn’t help but wonder if all the “Rookie 9” would be eating like that for the next few days.

After their meal, or lack of one, Ino had returned to Sakura, who had woken up briefly, giving Ino the chance to press some soup on her, which the pink-haired genin actually drank. Shikamaru’s teammate had stayed with her friend, holding her hand, and occasionally her shoulders, as they talked and cried until Sakura fell back asleep.

The young chuunin was in his favorite spot in the village, watching the clouds move across the star-filled sky. He couldn’t see any shapes in them tonight, though. All he saw were pools of blood, like in the old black-and-white horror films. But this life was more horrific than any movie ever made, and he shuddered.

A sudden noise off to his right startled him, and he fingered a kunai in his leg-pouch until someone stepped out of the shadows. “Ino, what…?” He sat up, alarmed and worried.

She was crying again, and he didn’t know what else to do. Opening his arms, he whispered, “Come here.”

The next thing he knew, she was sobbing onto his chest for the third time that day, sitting on his lap. Her skin was cold to the touch, and he mentally sighed as he started rubbing her arms, chaffing them lightly to warm her. How long had she been out there looking for him? Or had she just not wanted to go home, and stumbled on him by accident? It didn’t matter, and trying to figure it out was too troublesome.

After a while, Ino’s tears stopped, and she pulled away. Shikamaru stretched his legs out and hissed in pain. At his teammates concerned look, he grimaced. “Pins and needles,” he explained. “My leg fell asleep.”

She laid a hand on his knee gently, starting to say she was sorry, but he jerked away. “Yeesh, woman, don’t touch it!”

Immediately, she was giggling and poking at his leg. “Try to stop me!”

It took him a few minutes, but stop her he did, after much twisting and wrestling – and only a little cheating. He found out her secret. She was ticklish. That turned the tables quickly, and he soon had her pinned on her back, one wrist at each side of her head being held by his hands as he leaned over her. Suddenly, he softly collapsed on top of her, resting his head on her shoulder just below the collarbone, and releasing her wrists so he could bring his arms down to hug her possessively.

“Shika…kun?” Ino stammered the question.

The boy did not answer, but merely tightened his hold. At length, he did speak, but it was not about them. “Is Sakura asleep, then?”

Ino nodded carefully so as not to disturb him. “Hai. Tsunade had another drink for her, and she shouldn’t wake till morning.”

“You’re a good friend to her.”

Blushing, Ino still steadfastly replied, “She deserves better, but I’m trying my hardest.”

“There is no better,” the boy replied, relaxing as she brought a hand to touch one of his arms.

“Shika-kun, are you alright?” The question was laced with concern.

He nodded immediately, then paused before shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, Shika-kun?” she knew she was prying, but she needed to know. “Is it Sakura?”

“Yes and no,” he answered slowly, but truthfully.

“I’m sorry,” Ino hastened. “I shouldn’t have made you stay with me to hear all that. It’s not a burden you should have to bear.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Her curiosity was peaked. “What then?”

The young chuunin sighed deeply as he tried to organize his thoughts into something he could understand, hoping that then he’d be able to explain them. But even geniuses have trouble making sense of the brain’s thought process, he realized. I guess it’s just that… had any one of a hundred things gone differently, it wouldn’t have been Sakura there. If someone else had been assigned her spot of Team 7, or Sasuke had managed to pry her off, or she hadn’t been in that part of the forest, or any one of a thousand things it wouldn’t have been her. Squeezing Ino briefly, he sighed again. What scares me is… “it could have been you.”

He waited in silence for her response as what seemed like an hour passed, though he knew it was less than a minute before her arms came up to encircle him, pulling him more firmly against her.

He was shocked. He had expected her to throw him off, or brain him over the head, but here she was, holding him as tightly as he held her. Pulling his head up, he looked her in the eyes. She gazed back at him sadly, but there was a calmness that hadn’t been there when she’d stumbled up to him, and he suddenly knew that he was the only reason she was getting through this with her sanity intact.

That much trust frightened him, and the lazy voice in his head muttered, how troublesome, her being so dependant, but he quickly swatted it aside. Tonight, she needed him, and he needed her. He tightened his grip on her, and she gasped. The sound was music in his ears, until he realized that she was trying to speak, and couldn’t.

Loosening his grip, he was finally able to make out her words. “Can’t… breathe…”

Instantly realizing the problem – he was much heavier than her, and was lying on top of her, and then he’d squeezed her with his frequently forgotten exceptional strength – he rolled as fast as he could, staying up on an elbow beside her, watching in case she needed assistance.

Her chest heaved as she gasped for oxygen, straining the blueberry-colored fabric which glowed brighter in the artificial light, and he found himself wanting to touch it. She would kill him if he tried. How troublesome women are, he thought with a silent groan. They want you to want them, and then hurt you for acting on that want.

After a few minutes, her breathing evened out, and he flopped back into his original position, staring at the sky and the clouds that moved to block it. He got his second surprise of the evening when the kunoichi curled in beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, with one arm across his chest. “Uh… Ino…”

“Cold,” she stated simply, burrowing closer, and he took her at her word, putting his arms around her – gently this time – and gazing at the stars over her white-blonde hair. After a while, he heard her breath slow, and a soft noise, almost like a hiss, came from her mouth as she slept. Smirking, he smoothed her hair, then settled in himself, waiting out the cold night in slumber.

~~~~*~~~~

The next morning, he stirred from his dreams feeling exceptionally cold, especially along his chest. Opening his eyes, he found himself on his cloud-watching perch, curled up on his side. In a flash, he remembered the night before, and groaned softly. He’d made a fool of himself, and Ino would harass him about it for ages to come. How troublesome! She’d probably only faked being asleep, and then snuck off once he was dead to the world. He touched the bench next to him sadly, and was shocked to find it was still almost warm. A piece of paper caught his eye, and he snatched it, making out Ino’s hasty scrawl easily enough after a few years of being teammates.


Shika-kun,

I’m sorry I had to slip away, but I’m late. I promised to do Sakura’s hair, remember? But I forgot – my mom’s expecting me to help her at the flower shop this morning. We’re getting a large shipment today, and I usually help her put stuff away. Could you help her? Please? Don’t worry; you don’t have to make any arrangements or bouquets. Just move boxes. Thanks, Shika!

Yours,
Ino

It irked him a little that she just assumed he’d help out, but then he mentally kicked himself. It wasn’t her fault her friend was in the hospital. But this was still an annoying development, and he frowned, getting up to stretch. It was then that he noticed the post-script scribbled on the back

PS ~ As far as my mother is concerned, I was with Sakura all night. And I asked you yesterday to come and help her out. Thanks!

Rolling his eyes, he stuffed the note deep into his pocket, zipped it shut, and shuffled off to the flower shop, muttering about troublesome wenches and annoying flowers.

~~~~*~~~~

Sakura rolled over in her bed to escape her friend’s fussing. For some reason, they had sent Ino over to help her wash her hair, which was tolerable even if it was pointless. When the blonde had started massaging and scratching her scalp, she’d tensed at first, thinking back to her beloved Itachi-sama, but she hastily shoved that idea aside and forced herself to relax. After all, she was just shampooing.

But after her friend was done washing and drying her hair, she’d insisted on styling it, and then restyling it, and it was all Sakura could do to keep from screaming. Why should she care what she looked like? Itachi-sama wasn’t here to care, and he thought she looked best slightly sweaty and caked with blood anyway. These vanities were pointless, and couldn’t bring her loved one back to her. So she turned away and told the blonde girl to leave her alone.
She knew Ino was upset; she could sense her biting her lower lip and could almost hear the wheels in her mind turning. At last, she agreed to leave, but promised – or was it threatened? – to be back the next day.

Sakura didn’t care. She just wanted everyone to go away. Why couldn’t they see that she was always going to be alone, no matter how many people were there? It would be so much easier if they just stopped pretending and let her be. But of course, they still thought she was the naïve chit who had left them only a few months ago. None of them realized that she was a different person entirely. She was Itachi-sama’s slave, and she always would be.

But the only way she could be was if she was with him. Slowly the plan formed in her brain, and she almost smiled for the first time since her ordeal.

That evening, once the nurses had chased her teammate back to his room, she waited for everything to go still for the night, and then made her move. Going slowly, cautious about even the least noise, she slipped out of her bed and dressed herself in the gi and shorts that still hung in the closet of her hospital room. Ino had wanted to take them away, as had her parents and the Hokage before her, but Sakura had refused them, claiming she wanted them as a reminder against further stupidity. She left her arms bandaged, knowing he’d be amused as he removed them, grabbed her shoes in one hand, her weapons pouch – it had been found in the clearing where she’d disappeared and Naruto had returned it to her – in the other, and padded barefoot down the hall.

Sneaking out of the hospital really was too easy, and she was supposed to be in the ward under medium security, meaning there were guards. She bypassed them with little trouble, using a bit of the healing chakra manipulation she’d learned to make both guards she had to pass need an urgent trip to the men’s room. Both of them returned to their individual posts a few minutes after her passing without noticing a sign of it.

Some guards, she thought rudely. Even a genin can sneak past them!

Putting her sandals on, she took to the shadows, grateful for the bluish-black hue of her gi which hid her from view as she made her way out of the village. The air was cold and raised goosebumps on her skin, causing her to shiver, which she quickly suppressed. After all, it had been almost as cold at Itachi-sama’s, and she needed to get used to it again. It didn’t take long to find the spot she had met Itachi-sama all those months ago, and she stopped for a moment beside the tree he had backed her up against. Suddenly, she realized that she had no idea where he had taken her after his sharingan attack. She had been unconscious for both the journey there as well as the one back. Her only hope was that Itachi-sama would come back for her.

She knew it was hopeless. Itachi-sama might have made her his personal slave, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others he could promote in her place. Why would he come back for her? Despite how hard she tried, she was never good enough. She hadn’t even been able to carry his child.

The thought made her slump against the tree, and she slid down the rough bark to sit leaning against it, burying her face behind her legs and a curtain of pink hair. He had hated her hair, she remembered. He’d beaten her bloody just so the crimson almost-liquid would cover the color. He said blood-red suited her better and that she’d better leave it that way, or else it would be cut off. She believed him. Reaching into her weapon pouch, she pulled out a kunai and then grasped a lock of hair.

Leaning her head back, she stared up at the branches above her and contemplated the tree for a moment. It was here where he trapped her in those mesmerizing eyes and introduced her to the pleasure of pain.

Her own eyes closed at the memory, and she reveled in the rush of emotions spinning inside her head. Everything from terror on up was present, making a riotous swirl of feeling that excited her even as she trembled in fear. Riding that wave of sensation, she brought the blade as close to the roots of her hair as she could, taking a deep breath.

Just before she would have sliced, she heard a twig crack. Instantly, she brought her weapon down, taking as good a defensive posture as she could manage sitting with her back against a hard object. “Who’s there?”

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I hope you all have a Happy Halloween! Sorry about the short author's note; I'll try to write more next time. Back to grading papers for me.
Have a great day and good reading!

Crimson Iris