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Ino Yamanaka is ten the first time she is frightened by death. Ibiki Morino's face is etched with creases as he holds her petite hand in his broad, a red sign mirrored in his eyes. She would shiver in the moments when his voice would rise above the hasty clamor to holler at the passing wraiths. Ino would feel herself fade in his existence every time a medic caught her gaze; their mouth quivered in pity (she did not need her jutsu to discern the words they dared not say).
Ino remembers the feathery voice of Mrs. Akamichi - Gods love prayers, dear. Angels shall deliver them to your father for strength. Ino does as she is told she prays for their future and well-being, for messengers to stop knocking at their door. Most of all, she prays for missions to evade them. Despite it all, Ino hears Shikaku Nara whisper of death.
Shikamaru laces their fingers - Troublesome, yet refuses to let go until Shizune appears before them and every voice appeases. Her hand is warm on Ino's forehead.
"He will be fine, Ino-chan."
~X~
Shikamaru is the epitome of contrast of the Uchiha boy - a dull winter evanescent beside vivid, rain-filled autumn (and Ino is not the girl for substitutes). She blames tradition when Haruno Sakura is the one to fill the missing hole of Team 7 and she is left on the margins. She pouts, overwhelmed by - emptiness? Discontent for allowing something as precious to slip her grasp.
However, it is not Uchiha Sasuke Ino regrets not chasing (yet, a daffodil bud as bright shouldn't be secluded, Ino knows, thus understands its will to part).
She is twelve and displeased by the turn of events. A tall, nut-skinned man reads her name - Ino Yamanaka, welcome to Team 10.
~X~
Ino gasps for a hollow breath, her chest empty, and veins freeze in terror ten seconds before she realises Asuma will pale. Her chakra wavers on her fingertips; her mouth dries. She conceals it a moment longer than is needed, to hold her boys together (Nevertheless, the rope of destiny slips between her fingers with natural ease).
She pretends to hope, but - Ino, it's futile. Shikamaru knows.
Ino identifies as a failure (Asuma makes her promise it to be the last time she cries).
The rain is heavy on her shoulders, pushing her down to motionless chest - she learns will alone is not enough to compel an entity to obey her. The scent of tobacco lingers in her pores for days (she never admits, but she sleeps with his jacket on).
Ino Yamanaka is seventeen when awareness creeps inside her bones that gods indeed are despicable. Vengeance (death) becomes her purpose.
~X~
Ten tails is not as any kyuubi she has seen. Ino cannot argue with reason yet is a shinobi enough to invade his mind. He isn't like any animal she's ever possessed (she isn't entirely sure it fit the category), his memories are scattered shadows out of her reach. She witnesses countless men and torture, death and rebirth, pain, and hatred fueled by mindless rage. Her kind is the object of its despise.
She is forced to retreat by a masked man - a fraction of a second is enough for her to meet a brown-haired beauty in a pool of mud and blood. His eyes tell her secrets should've stayed buried. Yamanaka Ino is not surprised it is them - her and Shikamaru - the man fires at next. The wall of Akimichi men receives it; Naruto's chakra provides them shelter. She breathes wrath in the man's gestures and almost feels ashamed. She has been the intruder in too many minds; her consciousness thieving secrets (a kleptomaniac).
It is ten minutes prior to the beast's attack that the voice of Nara Shikaku hinders her concentration. The world waltzes around her as she shoves dread down her throat. Positive love, Inoichi tells her later, a bush clover in full blossom. Ino cries in disagreement. She cherishes Shikamaru's instinct to hold her hand, more so when he discards it.
They were at war (and she dreaded it might be his demons she might steal next - and did not want to).
Yamanaka Ino is close to eighteen when she no longer fears death.
~X~
Ino is eighteen the first time Ibiki Morino leads her to the T&I chambers. She discovers it is not nearly as glorious as people tended to think - simplicity seemed a common rule, basement-like quarters spread as far as sight allowed. Screams echoed walls. Ino notes how no shinobi seems to acknowledge the reek of death hanging from thin air - they neither shake nor shiver (instantly, she concludes she could fall in love with the fright of the place).
Eyes scatter over her, some in recognition, some seeking information to confirm their assumption. She notices a woman of at least thirty, her green eyes reduced to slits whilst she questioned Ino's heritage. Yamanaka hair was not the usual long, she had it cut to the level of her neck - Troublesome, she mimicked Shikamaru when honey strands were discarded at her feet. She no longer recalls where her purple clothes are, she agrees that she has been wearing the leather jeans and this mantel for far too long. Sakura joked it was a good thing she kept sporting the crop top.
Ibiki ushers her past men that devour her, only to halt right in front of a large metal door with the number ten engraved in the middle. His fingers fold around the handle, Ino notices their callousness.
"He is a fugitive. Claimed to carry secrets about Orochimaru of the Cloud." His tone remains dry as always and Ino thinks it might be his sense of consideration. Ibiki was not a man to mellow his orders.
"I want him to chirp before noon."
She nods. He releases the handle, Ino takes it in her palm almost instantly. Her fingers press it down (it takes far less strength than she imagined) and she takes a step - her black platforms clicking.
The room reeks of piss and sweat, blood even. Her nostrils wrinkle as she observes her surroundings; endless windowless walls she finds quite comforting (it resembles a mind, in her opinion). A man rests in chains on the floor before her feet.
"I see," He chuckles, spitting. Ino watches his eyes set themselves on her cleavage. "I hope you can satisfy me. Bitch."
Yamanaka Ino smiles (beams, like the burning Sun).
"Don't kill him, kid." Ibiki murmurs before the doors come to a close.
"Right, boss."
Ino Yamanaka is eighteen and an hour closer to nineteen when she walks out of the interrogation room. Eyes follow her steady gait, men entranced by the sway of her pretty hips. The woman does not halt until she reaches Ibiki's desk, seated in the sloppiest corner. The man frowns - his mouth part to inquire. Ino lifts gazes when she slams a crippled hand on his papers, staining them with blood. Ibiki's vein begins to violently throb.
"He is alive." She reassures the disapproving look on his features. "But you said nothing about him being sane."
Their stern routine collapses as Ibiki Morino laughs, taking the souvenir.
"Excellent, kid."
Ino Yamanaka thinks death might not be a journey everyone is worthy of undertaking.
Ten days after, the hand is kept in a glass on Ibiki's desk.
~X~
She is nineteen when Ibiki forces her to don the ANBU uniform. Ino bears the discomfort - it limits her, but Ibiki is more than pleased when a lion mask covers her face. Her partner is a man (or a woman) of few words, tall and slender - and effective. It takes them 10 days to complete 'the hunt' - Ino craves a bath and a bottle of sake. The owner of Ichikaru happily pours her liquor in the midst of the night. She devours gossips of their Hokage bedding women, of Uchiha Sasuke's return, Naruto's frequent sightings with the Hyuuga heiress.
Her loneliness becomes a burden in her throat and alcohol the only comfort (she gives up after the twentieth glass). A blur of white skin and black hair offers itself to her.
It is ten and the right side of her bed is warm with life. Sai greets her with an empty smile.
~X~
"They'll last about a week or two." Shino Aburame quotes Inuzuka Kiba as she wipes bloodstains from her hair (her last one was quite wiry, but not one she couldn't handle). Ino rolls her eyes at his tactlessness.
"Tell Kiba Sai can at least please a woman without sniveling on his climax." She catches Aburame smirk at her remark, yet resists the urge to beam.
"He won't be happy." He says, matter-of-factly. Ino shrugs, accepting the mantel from her collocutor. Shino buttons it on her collarbone whilst she bothers to adjust his glasses.
"Isn't that what we want?" She giggles on their leave.
Ibiki Morino summons them.
~X~
"This woman is sad." Sai points out on the rare occasions she has time to sit on their roof tangled in his arms. It is the tenth day of summer and the fifteenth villager he scrutinizes, his eyes clouded in concentration. Ino nestles more into his hard chest - the scent of paint and fresh parchment welcoming her home.
"Why so?" She questions. Sai's jaw hardens, unaware of a pair of azure eyes tracing its admirable contours.
"Love. Friendship." He voices effortlessly. "She's been hurt yet refuses to let anyone know."
"And that man" He motions with his chin. Ino's eyes follow. "is suffering. Someone dear to him has died."
He senses her numbness but offers no consolation. Ino desires to vanish into him for a bit of warmth - he kisses her forehead in the manner Inoichi did to soothe her worries. However, it lacks sweetness. Or the tobacco aroma ever-present among her regrets.
~X~
Ino isn't sure whether it is her heart that lingers on his sleeve or the fright of abandoning all she's ever known in life.
He is basked in the last light of autumn under the crimson leaves, the black of his tux like a shadow, encircling him. His laughter was never richer and his happiness more intoxicating - Ino is unable to resist the thought he shines. A river of guests encircles the pair, praising the bride, thousand voices arise in congratulations and the woman is smiles and positive energy (Mothers are ever the prettiest, Sai finds words in her place).
Two figures stand before a bush clover, unaware of a deer feasting on its leaves. Words flood them, yet both remain mum. Her last ones shouldn't be scolds and orders, not even advice seemed to fit (she is at a loss of words for once in her existence). His couldn't be simple (troublesome) although he desires so. Nevertheless, they need no phrases.
A flick of his wrist is all it takes for her to fall onto him - all the gentleness he never showed poured in a simple movement. Her cheeks burn and eyes water as she uncovers the scent of their sensei to be long gone, rinsed by years (freshness and sand don't suit him). Shikamaru inhales the perfume of her skin - luscious daisy is replenished by inconspicuous orchids. A tinge of ink present in her hair. (She was not his and he was not hers.)
"Congratulations." She recites like a poem learned by heart - and every practiced syllable is imperfect and wrong, sincerity lost in the gravel of tone. She is nerves and tears, but a hand tangles in her hair, caressing her like a child (Ino dares to remember the times she was one).
"Thank you." He replies (Ino chokes down sobs for there is Asuma in the low silvery voice). "You look beautiful, Ino." His arms bring them closer until their hearts beat one against the other.
There is no trace of modesty in her acceptance of his compliment and their chests rise and fall in unison (Yes, Yamanaka is certain, he shines). Her head hurts and nostrils burn as she battles urges to muster the strength. He feels her tenseness (and waits - Shikamaru always waits).
"So, this is it, huh?" She gushes in his ear. Her chuckle comes croaky and frail (Ino puffs her cheeks to hold back a cry of frustration; nothing seemed to flow). "I don't know how but you married a magnificent woman, you lazy-ass! Gods, I wonder how'd you talk her into this." She almost recoils at the sudden dampness on her shoulder; Strong, Ino reiterates, yet her eyes soften and sobs break free - she's a mess of smeared mascara and violent hiccups.
"Y-you deserve happiness!" She stutters. "Temari is a wonderful woman, you fool. You have to cherish her properly or else...Else she might beat you! And I would certainly hold her side." He nods against her shoulder, then moves to see her face (two red, swollen pairs of eyes meet).
"Sai is a lucky man, Ino." He proclaims. "Troublesome. And very lucky." I hope he knows.
She crumbles again - Shikamaru wants to tell her to stop doing it to herself (but then again, he isn't any better). He sees the Sun bleed into the forest; his fingers disentangle themselves from her tresses. Ino entwines them to utter something more, but Chouji's gaze collides with hers and Ino knows that time is no more.
Shikamaru's lips are soft against her forehead, his knuckles wipe both their tears.
"Goodbye, Ino." His back face her and she sees him off (her heart beats to the rhythm of the steps he takes - ten). Temari laces their hands - Ino waves at the warm teal gaze and the bump on her belly (Nara Temari is achingly beautiful).
"Goodbye" Sai's warmth paints life on her pale skin. He kisses the delicate nape of her neck (it flusters her and he knows it).
Shikamaru.
~X~
Her husband is the handsomest man - dark-haired, pale and defined by paradox and mystery. He is loving and tender, although still awkward around the edges, but Ino wouldn't have wanted him any other way.
However, Sai Yamanaka is the most beautiful when holding a small ball of life pressed to his chest. Thin fingers wrap around his thumb and the softest tones fill the room the more the father laughs (Ino thinks of crying). Her heart is weightless and consciousness in a haze - Completeness, Kurenai once put a name to it. Once you are a mother it will never cease from your existence, your very being. (Ino is glad she gave herself to him.)
Sai kisses Inojin's fingertips (ten) one by one and life dances across the house. Sai looks at her and her feet lead her to him, drowsily (Inojin is bathed in butterfly kisses).
Yamanaka Ino is twenty-two when she finally spreads her roots.