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The tie wraps around her hair nicely, all things considered. She forces a smile, but it doesn't reach her eye. “Damn it!” Ino hisses, combing furiously away at her bangs. “You're supposed to look effortless!”
“How many times do you plan on redoing the same ponytail?” Shikamaru asks lazily from where he's squatting on the edge of the bathtub, slumped against the wall for support.
She scowls and offers stubbornly, “As often as it takes for it to look right!”
Her friend shrugs in response. “And how long have you known each other? Not to be hard on you, but I don't think she cares.”
Ino's cheeks redden. It clashes horribly with her shirt. “That's none of your business!”
“Hey, I'm just here because you said you wanted a second opinion.” He raises his arms in defeat.
Ino turns, whirls towards him. She snatches his wrist and throws the bathroom door open, shoving him out. “I,” she says haughtily, “need silence.”
“Contenance, you mean,” Shikamaru mutters, and Ino would have slapped him if not for her still-vulnerable manicure.
She hauls a violent glare at her teammate, kicks the door shut between them and peers at the mirror.
“I want to look killer, damn it!”
“On a scale from disgusting to delicious, how good is the food at Yakiniku Q?”
Pakkun bumps his head against her leg, muffling, “How would I know, pup?”
Sakura frowns. “Er, right. Still, do you think I should take Ino there?”
“You've met there last week. You both seemed alright with that.” Pakkun gives a long-suffering sigh and pads away, leaving muddy paw prints on Kakashi-sensei's carpet.
Sakura stares after him, before remembering, “Oh! Silly me, we can't go there again!” With that realization, she dashes into Kakashi's bedroom.
He's away on a mission, but she knows where he stores all his books. He thinks he's so clever hiding them from her, but please. Sakura isn't nine anymore, she's always liked reading, and it's been four years since she's had a key to this place.
“Hmm,” she drawls. There's boring Icha-Icha, a guide on dog training, and, finally! Unbattered, barely-glanced at. “A recipe book,” Sakura whispers excitedly. She's going to cook for Ino!
Chouji is minding his own business, cloud-watching, with not quite the same intensity as when Shikamaru's with him, but Ino had suddenly tugged his friend away for “fashion advice,” and who are they to protest. Despite his best friend's pleading, haunted eyes, Chouji politely abstained from joining him in his misery. He took another nap instead.
He feels a little guilty about it, but Ino is terrifying, and he's already sort of sad about how training went earlier this morning. Chouji doesn't need stress added on top, and Shikamaru will understand.
“Hey, Chouji!” startles him, and he stretches upward, crooks his neck a little to stare at a pink-blotched figure in the distance.
“Oh, hi. Sakura,” he mumbles, averting his eyes as she comes close enough to properly talk to him.
“You like food, right?” His stomach lurches at that, and it's not hunger, it's another wave of misery.
He nods, bracing himself for another dismissive speech by someone who doesn't really care to look beyond the way he's built.
“Well, you see,” Sakura begins quickly, “I want to cook something. But I'm not sure about the spices. Kakashi-sensei has barely any at home, his food always tastes bland. I want Ino,” she fidgets, “to like it. Spices are difficult to handle though, and you probably know best about what Ino likes, since you always go on team dinners together.”
Chouji peers at her, suddenly interested.
“So I was wondering if you could jot down a few options for this,” she holds out an open book with a recipe on display, “pretty please?”
“So, how long has Sakura-chan been wooing Genin?”
“What,” Kakashi says flatly upon his return.
“Haven't you heard?” The desk nin leans forward excitedly. “Your student's on a date with Inoichi's daughter.”
Horrified, Kakashi knocks his knuckles against the desk, gripping the Chunin by his collar. “Are you joking?”
“N-no.”
“Is this a joke,” Kakashi repeats slower this time, dead serious. He's dripping blood on the floor. It's not his own. Right. The head. With little effort, he lifts the Chunin, and slams the severed head of an A-rank missing nin on the desk.
The boy squeaks in terror. “I h-heard it from Kurenai-san!”
He abruptly drops both the lanky teen and his mission report, uncaring for his paycheck, and rushes home.
His apartment isn't on fire, but there is a vengeful amount of smoke pouring out of the kitchen window.
A hint of burnt meat reaches him. The apartment is empty and it's not going to burn down anytime soon.
Kakashi twitches imperceptibly, and summons Pakkun for a man-hunt. Student-hunt. Teenager-hunt.