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They're twelve years old, just about ready to graduate in a few weeks and Sakura knows this whole month is going to be a nightmare for her. They've just started theory exams and there's one every week. So, of course it's going to be a week of fitful panic attacks as she prepares for the exam and on the day, she can only hope she doesn't pass out.
And you know what the worst part is? They take their exams on Monday and get the results by Friday.
And guess what? It's of course, obviously Friday... aka losing her goddamn grip on reality day because even the concept of time has decided to be her sworn enemy. She can already feel some of her sanity slipping and it doesn't help that Naruto is making a complete fool of himself trying to pick a fight with Sasuke in the row behind her. Can this guy cool it for once?!
"What a drag..." Sakura hears Shikamaru grumble to himself and agrees wholeheartedly.
There is too much noise and not enough all at once. The classroom feels like it's closing in on her, her heart beating irregularly, thudding against her ribs in a painful way. Sakura winces at the violent scraping of a chair somewhere behind her. Naruto has probably launched himself at Sasuke which isn't surprising, considering this is a regular occurrence and that implies Iruka-sensei is probably going to enter any second now holding all their answer sheets because he just has that kind of impeccable timing you know; the kind that lands you in detention of course.
Oh, thinking of Iruka-sensei has a fresh wave of nausea rolling in, Sakura curses herself inwardly. Her body feels uncomfortably hot, she can feel an unbearable warmth in the tips of her ears flowing down the sides of her neck and shoulders. She can feel her heartbeat in her fingers and Choji's constant munching is making it hurt more and that's only pushing her closer to the edge, the edge of sanity, where insanity welcomes you with open arms, cooing at you, just tempting you to cross the line.
This is just fantastic. Getting so worked up over an exam result is such a Sakura thing, a nerd thing, a loser thing. Being smart doesn't equal being a loser, of course not, after all, Ino's smart. Clever like those crows always perched on one branch or the other outside the academy. Or Sasuke, quiet and observant while Ino's loud, but in a way Sakura can still breathe. Sasuke is top of their class, probably rookie of the year while Ino's got top kunoichi in the bag. The one thing Sakura has is her grades, her stupid useless numbers written hastily in red ink on top of a sheet of accurately detailed information she's dumped on it. Grades that only show her worth as a paper ninja. She's nothing but an amalgamation of the countless 100s she's managed to get somehow. She's as worthy as a test can ever be. Just about equal to a well done! And a smile.
All the kids are chattering around her, unaware of the maelstrom of emotions tearing Sakura apart, her fists balling up the front of her qiapo, scrunching it despite how she woke up early to iron it. And to top it all up, her hands are shaking. Sakura hopes the shaking is limited to her hands because it's either that or she resembles a newly birthed fawn attempting to walk. That would be embarrassing.
Iruka-sensei still hasn't made it in yet which makes Sakura worry more. What does this mean? Does it mean she's failed? Is he prepping things up for the inevitable you should drop out of the academy because you're not very useful talk? Is she going to lose her spot? All because of a bad grade? Naruto constantly fails and he's still here?!
Kiba's joined the Naruto and Sasuke fight, which is new and Sakura is even more worried. This is a bad omen, a bad sign, a curse, this is the end of the world, she's failed, she's destroyed her life, nothing will ever be the same, she can never face her parents, she can never go back home! She's a disapoin -
A hand slips over her shaking fist, soft even if she can feel the slight calluses. She feels warmth, starting at the area the hand connected with and it slowly starts spreading.
The only person sitting next to her is... Ino.
If the warmth was creeping up patiently, intent on establishing it's dirty roots, taking its time to sow seeds of control, it has now established complete dominance and has colonized her body at a frightening speed.
Which, to say, is a comforting feeling. This gives her something other than the despair of permanently ruining her career as a shinobi to focus on. Namely, the embarrassment of having her once best friend, now rival holding her hand out of pity like she's a child in need, exactly like all those years ago.
It's a reminder of how pathetic she is. It lights a fire in her and she wants to pull her hand away, give Ino a piece of her mind, demand the respect she desperately wants, if only she wasn't so weak, so desperate for the touch of comfort, of familiarity - her parents haven't hugged her in years; maybe then she could pull her attention away from the pale hand gripping hers, tight enough to convey the owner's presence but not suffocating.
Ino squeezes her fist and despite herself, Sakura lets them unfurl a little, letting her poor qiapo breathe as her rapidly built up rage fizzles out.
And now she's warm all over once again. It's different this time, in a way that doesn't make Sakura think the end is near and she's going to be a medical marvel having died of a stress ulcer at the beautifully youthful age of twelve.
Iruka still hasn't made it in and Sakura hopes he doesn't ever come around when she finally tears her gaze away from their hands to look at Ino. She's looking off to the side, absolutely refusing to face Sakura, who can see the tip of Ino's visible ear turning red. She leans forwards, trying to catch a better glimpse of Ino because why not? It's not every day you get to see Yamanaka Ino be out of her element. Her movement catches Ino's attention who turns her head on reflex and their eyes meet. Ino glares at her even if the expression on her face is wobbly, turning away once again to focus on some faraway spot on the wall.
It's at least somewhat reassuring that Ino is affected to some degree as well. Ino who makes it her entire personality to be the perfect femme fatale, batting her eyelashes and laughing quietly at some boy's joke in the class, crossing her arms in a way that accentuates her barely there chest, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear while she looks up at the boys, eyelashes fluttering, lips quirking up to one side, her trademark shy grin, making the boys choke on their useless words while she bursts into cute little giggles: that Ino is losing composure, all because she's holding hands with the biggest nerd in school. It makes something unfurl in her chest, Sakura isn't sure what it is but it's akin to a satisfied cat, purring in its contentment.
If something could single-handedly assassinate all her self-esteem issues, it would be knowing that she's the one crack in whatever superficialness Ino wields like a poison laced senbon. After all, nothing could compare to knowing what none of these brats knew; the way Ino cackles mercilessly when she talks shit about whatever juicy gossip she's got her hands on, or the way she's always ready to roll around in the dirt if it means beating Sakura in something, competitive to an unhealthy degree, a sore loser, and don't get Sakura started on how loud she is while laughing at something that's actually funny. A loud bark of laughter, interrupted with a jarring snort or two before it morphs into evil cackling, her face turning a light shade of red from how hard she laughs, hair all over the place, 'cuz Ino doesn't remember to look pretty in those moments and honestly, why would she?
She's pretty all the time, blooming all the time, all year around like the prettiest flower in Konoha because she doesn't need a particular season to shine, Ino's always shining, unlike the sun because Ino's the type to flip the sun off and radiate her own brand of light. Sakura's never needed to look at the sun to guide her, she's always been looking at Ino, after all.
None of these boys or those old aunties in the neighbourhood could ever think that the little wall-flower of a girl, so polite and perfect, can punch you bloody if you push enough buttons and the right ones. She's wild, unpredictable, absolutely untamable or Inoichi-san wouldn't always have a headache. Sakura shares his misery and unfortunately his fondness too. Honestly, maybe Sakura's happy none of these idiots in class know the real Ino; they haven't earned the right - It's the perfect subterfuge and if you can't see past it, maybe you deserve to be fooled by this carefully crafted image of a dumb blonde. An advantage Ino had called it, a strength. Act dumb, earn their trust and it's game over, for them of course.
With the exception of Shikamaru and Choji, Ino's got everyone fooled. Sakura isn't fooled though and when she can see the tips of Ino's ears turning as red as tomatoes, she can't help the smugness from rising inside. Ino's affected to the point her usual chaotic energy has been replaced by embarrassed restlessness.
Ino who makes a point to look you in the eyes when she talks, not looking at you? Heh, that's as good an indication of her being rattled as it can be. Exam scores could never keep her attention over a shy, embarrassed Ino. The hand gripping hers is a little moist which Sakura thinks is adorable and it is quite warm in here, her own hand is a bit sweaty. She adjusts her grip a little, qiapo abandoned and catches Ino's thumb between her own and her index, gently caressing it and this rewards her with a little hiss of a sharp intake and Sakura's on cloud 9, sorry Iruka-sensei, her failed grades don't matter anymore, she's been spoiled silly by the giddy feeling of one upping her rival. Maybe this is why Naruto keeps going after Sasuke, to chase this feeling.
Sakura's no better than Ino though, her face is probably redder, her heart's worse off than a patient going through an arrhythmia, she's worse than Ino when it comes to affection and she knows that. The small realization smacks her in the face with a fist full of bitterness that Ino's still looking out for her as if Sakura can't handle the full extent. Another squeeze from Ino has Sakura almost missing her enough to turn around, bury her face into Ino's shoulder and cry, much like her seven year old self when she had a gnarly beetle land on her nose.
At least, she won't be dying from a stress ulcer now, embarrassment will take her out much sooner. It's a constant push and pull in this love triangle of emotions, clearly there's a winner.
They don't stop holding hands until Iruka-sensei strolls in, a wonderful thirty-five minutes late, looking disheveled, and apologetic before he starts handing out the answer sheets. It reaches Sakura and it's like this interaction never happens.
Ino's back to sneering at her, boasting about how Sakura will never beat her, all traces of shyness killed off like the shreds of patience Sakura exercises while speaking with this particular blonde.
Sakura gets a 100, Ino gets a 98. They argue like every single time before that.
And Shikarmaru feels bamboozled. Just what are girls?