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“So, I asked around,” Sakura says, setting her cup down and flopping into the chair in front of Ino, who leans in towards her best friend, blue eyes filled with urgency.
“And?” she prompts. This is a matter of life and death.
“You know her name is Hinata, right?”
Ino glares. “I’m not stupid.”
Sakura snorts. “Could’ve fooled me. Anyways, she’s the elder daughter of Hiashi Hyūga of Byakugan Industries. She’s pursuing communications and works part-time as a barista here.”
Ino nods - most of this is stuff she knows. She bounces on the edge of her seat, waiting for the most important bit.
“She’s really quiet and shy. Has a habit of stuttering, apparently. She just turned twenty last December. According to Tenten-” Tenten is Sakura’s girlfriend, and Hinata’s best friend - news to a furious Ino, who demanded to know why she hadn’t been informed of this earlier, “-she’s bisexual.”
“And?” Ino asks again, almost desperately. “Do you know her type?!”
Sakura smiles. “Blonde and blue-eyed. Confident, strong-willed and knows what they want.”
Ino sits back, stunned. Takes out a compact mirror from her bag, looks into it. Sees blonde hair and blue eyes that have stayed the same since the day she was born.
She evaluates her own personality quickly. Chōji has often said that she’s too confident; Shikamaru that her headstrong nature was ‘troublesome’; and she’s always known exactly what she wants to do, whether it be making friends with the bullied girl in the back of the class or studying psychology like her father.
A smirk stretches across her face. “So I’m her type. This is perfect!”
She stands up, dusting off her black leggings and straightening her full-sleeved purple button-down. A random outfit she grabbed without even looking - proves just how well all Ino’s clothes go with each other. It’s a testament to her amazing fashion sense.
Granted they’re all shades of black, white and purple, but no one asked.
“See you when I’m not single anymore, Sakura,”
She’ll end up seeing Sakura tonight anyways – they’re roommates at college, after all. Sakura grins and high-fives her friend, knowing that Ino means what she says. The Yamanaka’s determination and willpower exceeds all else, even having managed to coerce the lazy Shikamaru to take part in some of her crazy ploys. Sakura can be sure that the next time she sees Ino, the blonde will have a girlfriend – and it’ll be Hinata Hyūga.
“See you!” she calls after Ino, who is already halfway to the barista’s counter, weaving her way between the mostly empty tables and plastering an award-winning smile to her face when she gets there.
“Hello, Hinata,” she says, flashing perfect white teeth. “How are you today?”
Hinata blushes, fumbling with the cup she’s holding. “I’m - I’m doing w - well, Ino-s-san,” she stammers out.
Hmm. So Sakura was right. She does stammer. The soft, “Here,” she says when handing Ino her coffee isn’t long enough to distinguish the stutter in her words. It’s cute, thinks Ino.
Let’s all conveniently ignore the fact that Ino, despite being the most forthright being on the planet, has yet to have actually spoken to her crush of nearly two months other than the short exchanges they have when she’s grabbing her coffee and rushing to class - an earth-shattering revelation for someone like Ino Yamanaka.
“That’s great,” Ino continues, leaning forward, fingers playing innocently with the wide-open top button of her shirt. Her grin takes on a distinct hint of seductiveness. “Say, are you free tonight?”
Hinata blushes. “I’m - I don’t have any pl - plans to - to go o - out, if th - that’s what y - you m - mean, I - Ino-san,”
Ino’s smile is a full-blown smirk now. “Then, how about we catch dinner?” She takes Hinata’s hand – which is tapping nervously on the counter - and places a gentle kiss on it. Lifts her head and flashes another Oscar-worthy smile at the flustered beauty. “Just you and me. A... private thing.”
Hinata stutters out, “I – Ino-san-”
“Perfect then. We’ll meet up at... how does seven sound? I know a really good Indian place not too far from here. Have you ever heard of Shiv Sagar?”
Hinata nods, small and shy, still pink in the face. Her mouth opens to speak, but Ino’s already grabbed a napkin, scribbled down her number and shoved it at her. “Call me, okay? I have to meet my professor for extra credit, and I’ll be late if I don’t go now. See you at seven, beautiful,” she says, winking at Hinata, who in her mute astonishment watches Ino leave like a whirlwind, just as fast and furious as her entry.
Seven o’clock rolls around all too quickly for Hinata. She’s been stewing in her own thoughts all Sunday, completely bamboozled and embarrassed by the things that have been going on this past week. First Tenten asks her about her ‘type’, and she ends up blurting out the things she finds most attractive about Naruto-kun. Then Ino-san, who looks like a female carbon copy of Naruto-kun, asks her out.
Hinata’s not stupid. She knows that Tenten is dating Sakura-san, and that Sakura-san is Ino-san’s best friend. And that Ino clearly has a crush on her. It’s quite flattering to a girl who’s always been the outcast, weak and small, to be liked, and she’s loath to admit she’s spent quite a few nights squealing to herself about how someone as gorgeous and popular as Ino-san likes her. The problem is, why Ino-san chose now to ask her out, of all the times. And just after Tenten had questioned her so much about her ‘type’.
Hinata gasps out loud as she connects the dots.
Ino-san must have asked Sakura-san to poke around! And Sakura-san must have asked Tenten, and that’s why Tenten asked me! And – and I gave all Ino-san’s exact traits…
Ino-san thinks I like her!
Why did Ino-san and Naruto-kun have to be so similar?!
Hinata wrings her hands anxiously, brows drawing together in frustration and guilt that she’s stringing Ino along.
Oh, how could this happen?
She pats her long hair, worn loose today, and smooths her white-and-gold sari down – Naruto-kun had somehow heard of the date, popped over and shoved his mother’s favourite sari in her arms, saying things like “if you’re going to an Indian place, at least dress like one of us!” with his trademark blinding grin, and giving her a lecture on Indian culture, all the while commenting on how amazing she looked and how floored Ino would be.
Hinata had never wanted to be swallowed up by the ground that much in her entire life.
She briefly wonders how all her friends seem to know Ino, and she hadn’t even heard of the woman until Ino started visiting the coffee shop off-campus. Hinata groans softly to herself, straightening the long end of her sari that hangs over her shoulder (Naruto-kun called it a ‘pallu’) and wonders how she got herself into this mess.
Oh, that’s right. Because Ino-san is the female version of Naruto-kun, the snarky, oft-silenced part of her brain reminds her, and Hinata furiously hushes it. She doesn’t want to think about Naruto-kun right now.
She’s just thinking that maybe it’s a cruel joke, maybe Ino stood her up, and why does she feel so awful about it shouldn’t she be relieved – when the other woman comes sashaying down the street, waving exuberantly to Hinata with the world’s biggest grin plastered onto her face. Ino looks gorgeous dressed in a short orange-and-pink sequinned top with detailed embroidery, and a long, flowy skirt to match that swishes beautifully around her ankles with every step she takes. Her eyes pop with kohl, the small round bindi sticker between her perfectly plucked brows serving only to accentuate the look. She’s not wearing any makeup other than the kohl and a lip balm, Hinata realises. Thank God; choosing to wear only eyeliner had been a good choice.
Ino comes to a halt in front of her and takes her hand, placing a light kiss on it. Then she raises her head and looks at Hinata properly, and she doesn’t say anything for two full minutes, blue eyes latched onto her face. Hinata is almost afraid that Ino thinks she’s ugly.
Then Ino breathes, “You look… out of this world, Hinata,”
The compliment sends blood rushing to Hinata’s cheeks, and she thinks she might just faint. For what reason, she doesn’t know – isn’t Naruto-kun the one she wants to receive remarks like this from?
Ino offers her arm, and Hinata, suddenly shy, takes it. Ino gallantly opens the door of the restaurant, bowing and flourishing an arm towards the open door. “Ladies first,” she breathes huskily, mischief in those eyes of hers.
Hinata goes redder and enters the eatery, a spicy-savoury-tangy smell assaulting her nostrils. It’s strange, but not unpleasant – far from it. Ino follows on her heels, slinging an arm around Hinata’s shoulder and guiding her to an empty table for two, by a window half-obscured with a curtain of pepper creepers – mareechikalata, as Naruto-kun had told her they were called. It’s so romantic Hinata could cry.
The waiter comes around, and Ino confidently places an order for cottage cheese curry with a basket of flatbread called ‘roti’. The man recommends a ‘lassi’, and Hinata surprises herself by saying softly, “Let’s try that.” She has never been one to be adventurous with food, so she can’t help but give herself a little pat on the back.
A few minutes later, they are served two tall glasses of a white drink that Ino takes a huge gulp of, before declaring it ‘absolutely amazing’. Hinata sips hers too, and a riot of flavours explodes in her mouth – sweet and rich and creamy and light and refreshing all at the same time. It tastes like milk and liquid ice-cream, and there’s a distinct hit of mint.
“So, Hinata,” Ino says, smiling at her. “I heard you play the flute.”
Hinata swallows. “Y – yes. I’ve love – loved m – music ever since I was b - born,” she stammers, cursing herself for sounding so weak.
“Why didn’t you major in music, then?” Ino asks.
Hinata blushes. “Well… I – I have al – always wanted to b – be a Rad – Radio J – Jockey,” she replies shakily. “I k – know I’m n – not con – confident enough, b – but it’s m – my dre – dream,”
Ino sucks in breath, eyes widening. “That’s a really cool dream,” she says, and Hinata can feel that she means it from the bottom of her heart. “So, what’s it like? Have you ever, you know, had a practice session, or something?”
Hinata nods quickly. “Y – yes. With K – Kiba-k – kun. We – I – I have a record – ding that I c – could send y – you la – later?”
Ino beams. “Absolutely! Tell me more about Communications; is it fun? What do you learn in class?” She leans forward, eyes sparkling with genuine interest.
No one’s ever treated her like that before, Hinata realises, chest constricting with a newfound affection for the woman in front of her. Like they wanted to really know who she was.
And she finds herself talking, talking about what kinds of classes they have, about her classmates, about Kiba and Shino who have been her best friends since she was five and encouraged her into it, about how she always loved how confident RJs sounded and how they put smiles on people’s faces without knowing it.
She hasn’t stammered once as she speaks, gaining confidence and volume as she talks about her dream. And Ino is drinking in every second of it, enraptured.
Hinata starts as she realises ten minutes have passed. “I’m so s – sorry! I’ve just b – been talk – talking about my – myself!”
Ino smiles. “It’s all right. You’re so cute when you’re passionate about something. Your eyes take on this shine, and you become so much more confident and eloquent. It’s like you’re a whole new person. I’m sure you’re going to be the best Radio Jockey ever. You’ve already found one daily listener, right here.”
Hinata blushes. “B – but Papa s – says I’m n – not str – strong en - enough to be o - one,”
Ino shakes her head, taps Hinata’s chest, right above her heart. “I believe that all that confidence is hidden deep inside. It just needs the right encouragement to come out. You’re like a primrose – a flower that blooms in the rain. You just needed the right rain,” she says with a smile.
Hinata’s heart leaps.
Ino-san…
This girl – this girl is amazing, and soft, and strong, and beautiful, and kind, and oh, Hinata can’t help but feel happy that Ino is so headstrong, because she’s enjoying this date and it’s better than any of her fantasies about dates with Naruto-kun –
Wait, what?
Before Hinata can think on it more, their food arrives. Ino tucks in with gusto, and she follows suit, tearing a piece of the thin, floury flatbread and dipping it in the curry. The flavourful sauce complements the soft cottage cheese perfectly, and it practically melts in her mouth, an explosion of taste. The spice is a little on the higher side, but Hinata likes spicy food.
A few minutes later, they’re both done, and order dessert in the form of gulab jamun – sweet balls of fried dough soaked till soft in sugar syrup flavoured with cardamom. Ino looks around the restaurant, her sharp eyes catching the wall art of people using triangles and circles and lines.
“Simplistic, don’t you think?” she comments.
Hinata startles, looking up, eyes snapping to where Ino is looking. She makes a soft “Oh!” sound as she realises what it is.
“It’s called Warli art. A tradition of people from the central Indian state of Maharashtra,” she explains softly. “The Warli tribe have painted like this from the 10th century. It’s really beautiful, their use of dots and lines.” Just as Naruto-kun had explained in his two-hour, general lecture on his home country.
Ino hums. “That’s interesting,” She looks at the drawings again, a new light of appraisal in her eyes. “You’re right; it is beautiful. Nothing less than Aboriginal art.”
And from there it devolves into a discussion on art and culture, a subject Ino has a lot of knowledge on. Her love for history shines through her words as clear as day, and Hinata finds herself hanging off every word, drinking in the light and joy on Ino’s face.
Their dessert arrives, and once again Ino takes a bite, groaning contentedly. Hinata digs her spoon into the sweet, shoves it into her mouth, and is pleasantly surprised when another myriad of flavour explodes across her tongue. Sweet with a hint of freshness, and the dough is fried perfectly. She can’t help but let out a little moan of pleasure.
“It’s that good, huh?” Ino asks, smiling fondly. “You’re so cute. I still can’t believe you agreed to go out with me, of all the people.”
Hinata flushes and ducks her head, concentrating on her dessert. She has to stifle a snort when Ino outright licks the bowl, and protests weakly when the blonde insists on paying.
And then, all too soon, it’s time to leave. The evening has passed in a flash, and Hinata has enjoyed herself, she realises. More than any other date she’s been on.
Ino lingers by the doorway, reaching for Hinata’s hand. Their fingers brush, and Hinata starts at the almost electric spark that passes between them.
Ino’s blue eyes dance darkly with some unrestrained want, and suddenly she’s leaning forward, her pink mouth connecting with Hinata’s gently. And then they are kissing, and Hinata cannot help but lean in to the kiss, pressing her lips firmly against Ino’s. She can’t think of Naruto-kun now – no, now it’s all Ino, Ino, Ino. Her heart pounds against her ribcage at the thought that Ino is kissing her. That Ino wants her, that Ino thinks she’s beautiful enough, strong enough, brave enough to do what she wants.
She thinks about Naruto-kun – and is startled to feel a new sort of love for him. A love you give to a brother, a friend.
But Ino is different. Ino is a person Hinata wants to be like, but also a person Hinata wants to be with. A person who she wouldn’t mind waking up next to, with whom she can picture lazy mornings on couches and late nights at parties.
And it’s then that Hinata realises; somewhere, somehow, along the course of this crazy date she was so reluctant to go on, she has managed to fall head over heels for one Ino Yamanaka.
Ino is the first to pull away from the kiss, cheeks dusted pink.
“So,” she says awkwardly, clearing her throat, “did you have fun?”
Hinata nods, eyes shining. “I – I re – really d – did,”
Ino smiles and offers, shyer than Hinata would’ve expected, “Would you like to meet again sometime? For coffee, or maybe we can get drinks?”
Hinata shakes her head, and her mouth moves on its own. “I al – already s – spend a l – lot of my t – time around co – coffee. A – and I don’t l – like alc – alcohol th – that much. But I – I’d l – love to m – meet you ag – again. M – maybe I c – can come ov – over to your d – dorm and we can g – get to kn – know each other b – better?”
Ino goes red, and her eyes sparkle. “I’d like that very much,” she says softly. “I would like that very, very much.”