Chapter 1: Prologue

Prologue

 

I, Yamanaka Ino, age 16—if I rounded up, that is— had a problem.

It all started 3 days back, I had been meditating with dad, practicing the techniques involved in the Shintenshin Jutsu. Reach flow state? Got it. Separate consciousness from my body? Easy—not really.

I had been practicing moving around while in that more spiritual state. It wasn't my first time doing it. I don't even know what went wrong, even. Things were fine, and then they weren't.

I don't really recall much else, only that I'd woken up feeling warm.

In winter.

Dad told me I'd passed out with a nosebleed, but I'd felt fine when I woke up. Just peachy, even. Never better.

As fine as one can be for hearing voices, that is.

They—the voices, that is— started with just whispers, not from shadowy figures or anything so silly; Although, at this point, I wish it were that. At least I could glare at shadows.

They never stopped unless I was entirely alone, and even then… let's just say sleep wasn't coming as easily as it once did.

Hearing foreign voices whisper directly into my ear was an easy ticket out of dreamland, after all.

I tried to ignore them, I really really did. But they felt like tantalizing secrets, right outside my reach. The more I focused on one whisper, the more clear it'd get, but it was still somewhat muffled. It felt like I just needed one more step, just a little more.

Of course, with all that focus, came headaches. Lovely.

It was shortly after I got to class on Monday that something… changed. It wasn't a tangible feeling, nothing clicked into place or anything so droll. But something was certainly different. Shifted, even.

Iruka Sensei hadn't arrived yet, and we—my friends and I, comrades in arms slash mortal enemies— crowded around Sasuke as usual. It was fun, and he was as cool and dashing as always. I could feel the change as my heart rate increased, and I felt light headed as blood rushed throughout my veins.

The change was so sudden and unexpected that… well, all my training screamed foul play.

Genjutsu? We hadn't yet learned how to dispel one, so I looked around frantically for the source… for a clue, for anything. All the while I could feel my symptoms continue to escalate.

The whispers elevated in volume, and it was when I met eyes with Sasuke that one whisper, louder than most, broke through the racket with sterling clarity.

Disgusting.

I was overcome with a clear feeling of utter contempt. As if everything and everyone were beneath me. Ants, all of them! It was so heady, and so foreign that I blinked in confusion before my feet shuffled almost instinctively as I rapidly retreated.

My hasty retreat was halted with a bang—my back hit the door. Even with that my mind worked overtime for some semblance of understanding. Logically, I knew I was in a Genjutsu; I must have been, not much else made sense.

I recognized the whisper anywhere, it sounded just like… like…

My Sasuke would never say something like that.

And yet… it stung all the same.

My heart and lungs worked overtime to feed my mind the fuel it needed. How do I break a Genjutsu again?

Disruption of chakra flow? How should I even do that…

There was something else… something to do with pain? I pinched my arm without hesitation, I could feel the onset of panic—both foreign and my own— as it did nothing to bring me out of it.

It did hurt though. Damn.

What did stop my attempts though, was a stinging tingle in my nose, and as I rubbed my hand against it, I baulked at the sight of rivets of blood—my own blood, as it dripped from the back of my hand.

The deep crimson shocked me to my core, and the foreign feelings plaguing me receded as my own shock came to the forefront with astonishing purity.

I heard a gasp.

I looked around, only to flinch as the entire classroom stared at me, eyes wide as saucers. Their stares were heavy, a tangible weight to them. I felt crushed under the gravity of their eyes as the walls started to close in.

Normally I wouldn't mind standing out, but now I just wanted to disappear.

Luckily, Iruka Sensei walked in, took one look at me and had someone escort me home, while completely ignoring my protests. I was feeling better already by the time I exited the school.

I felt fine.

…I was fine… right?

 

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All that led up to… well, now.

 

Dad raced home, apparently, and fussed over me as he always did. Well, even more than he usually did. I was once again hit with foreign feelings, this time of concern, as if the world was crashing down around me, yet on the other side of that same coin… I felt exasperated.

Yes dad, I feel fine. No dad, no one hit me. Yes dad, I know you'd make them see hell if they did. Love you too, dad.

It was when he was fussing over me, when I heard another whisper. Louder than before.

I wonder if that Uchiha brat pulled something?

It was absurd, right? So absurd I had to ask, "Why would Sasuke do anything?"

He stared at me in silence, and I felt the concern shift to some alternating mix of shock and confusion.

Eventually, I calmed down, and he slowly said, "Hey, Buttercup…"

Something in his voice as he trailed off must have clued me in, because I looked at him with a mounting mix of dread and confusion, this time clearly my own. "Yeah dad?"

"Did you just…"

I responded in the only way I could, voice shaky as the implications hit me, "I think so…"

The whisper immediately quieted down, before hesitantly sounding out with a pattern of numbers.

"12, 23, 4731.2221…" To which I'd listed off as I heard them, and the calm receded into the familiar shock as the whispers ceased altogether.

Dad's face was one of clear worry, but I could feel curiosity grow unbidden, "When… how?"

I gave as much detail as I could, and as soon as I got to the sorry state of my sleep pattern, I'd been enveloped in a worry-filled hug. I continued nonetheless, until we got to… well, now.

I had more brain than forehead. I wasn't so stupid to not figure it out by now. It was clear to me that I was somehow reading minds—without the typical techniques Yamanaka used— and somehow… I think, imprinting? Resonating? Somehow feeling emotions others felt?

Is there a word for that? Emoting?

That put the earlier happenings of the day into a new perspective. I'd been overwhelmed.

Minutes passed as my dad thought—very rapidly, I might add— and he eventually settled on asking, "Can you turn it off?"

I shrugged, and I could immediately feel sadness—his sadness— invade my very being. I didn't really understand why he'd be sad, maybe there was something I didn't know. Something I wasn't seeing. I'd get there, I always did.

"Oh Ino…" Once again I was wrapped in a hug, one I returned weakly.

I couldn't understand why he felt as he did, but I did as much as I could to make him happy as I sunk more and more into the hug. We were a tactile lot, dad and I. Hugs helped a lot.

A short moment passed before he/I steeled himself/myself, "Ino. Tell no one."

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I nodded, having an inkling of understanding why. We were in a Shinobi village, after all.

"Seriously. You're an info-sec disaster. There's only so much I can do to protect you if people find out," he grimaced and delivered in a grave tone, before muttering, "Maybe I can spin it as a Yamanaka Hijutsu if it gets out…"

I felt the onset of a headache, so I went to bed earlier than normal. Hopefully I could catch up on sleep.

I grinned. For the first time in days I'd felt optimistic.

This'll be great, no one can lie to me anymore. I can figure out what Sasuke likes way easier now.

 

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I woke up many times during the night, jumping at shadows as they'd whisper nothings into my ear, only to convince myself that there was nothing there. I had a Jounin under my roof. There was nothing there.

 

Dad fussed over me as I left in the morning. Yes dad, I'll be fine. Yes dad, I'll come home immediately if it's too much. Love you too, dad. Stop messing up my hair, dad.

As I passed people, I could at least somewhat ignore the whispers, but if they got too close I could hear their inane thoughts clearly.

Why were so many people thinking about breakfast anyway? Didn't they just eat? And I really really didn't want to know about my neighbours butt. Ew.

My expression shifted between a light smile, an irritated grimace, and overall disgust depending on who I'd passed while en route, and I'd eventually met up with Sakura—No. Forehead-Girl. She approached me as she usually did, donning a wide smile that I'm sure she thought masked the waves of irritation I could literally feel as it wafted from her in an even cadence.

"Hey Ino Pig," came from her mouth, and any affection that I may have assumed—wrongfully so, obviously— was inevitably betrayed by the second voice—her voice loud and clear, I hope she'll go home early again today. It's obvious that my Sasuke doesn't like her.

The light smile I wore frosted over in realization.

Oh Kami… no one can lie to me anymore.

Why was that her first thought upon seeing me? Hadn't I been escorted home bleeding from my face? It was times like this when I wondered where my friend went. Was one… boy really worth it?

I mean sure, he was really pretty. But I'd rather have my friend back.

I didn't expect it so quickly, but I think I was getting an inkling as to why dad was sad—if this was any indication.

Being a walking lie detector was great on paper, but in practice… I was starting to come to the realization that today was going to suck.

I couldn't even bring myself to respond in kind, the typical retort of "Forehead-Girl" died before it even hit my tongue. I could only mutter a withered greeting, the sting of her inner thoughts had taken what little proverbial wind left in my proverbial sails. Proverbially.

A sucker punch right out the gates, huh .

I internally scoffed, and the lack of the typical enthusiastic jab only served to confuse us—her. Not us, her. Damnit.

I need to get a better hold on this, and fast.

Forehead-Girl—that name got a lot more bitter as I thought it, now— didn't say much overtly, her mind dominated mostly by thoughts of Sasuke, with the occasional thought of Jutsu or classwork sprinkled in.

Almost as soon as we'd arrived, Forehead-Girl darted to Sasuke. Normally I'd have been in front of her, or at the very least beside her, but I was too busy being absolutely buffeted by the cacophony of… everything I was currently feeling. Being made to feel. Whatever.

It was a lot, okay? A whole lot. It was also really really difficult to focus on the tiny sliver that represented myself, which grew more and more anxious as my focus waxed and waned, and other emotions bled in.

Breathe in.

I closed my eyes, trying to demarcate… myself. And not myself. The line between me-and-not-me. I was a bubble. A cute bubble. This is me.

Breathe out.

The anxiety? Yeah that's me, not all of it, but a good chunk.

Breathe in.

The… affection? Right now, not me. I don't think. I don't think I'd even looked at Sasuke yet, so likely not me.

Breathe out.

The irritation? Some of it clearly me, most of it not.

It was… difficult, and generally overwhelming. It was likely only possible due to the copious hours I had put into meditation, in preparation for learning Yamanaka Hijutsu.

The line—layer?— that was myself ebbed and flowed. It wobbled as it was buffeted by the concentrated ick that was everyone else.

It wasn't perfect, I don't think I was good enough yet to make it perfect, but as long as I kept focused, I could tell which parts were me. Mostly.

The classroom was abuzz with energy, and forcing myself to separate from that took a lot out of it, my edges vibrated with tension.

I eventually hit some… equilibrium. Some semblance of calm. I'd stopped panicking, at least; Hyper focused on what I was clear was myself. Or mostly me.

I would be the very best bubble.

The grip of my eyelids loosened, and I opened them slowly. I made my way over to Sasuke, carefully categorizing the influx of emotion that threatened to fill me as I stepped closer.

As soon as I got near, all my foundations of calm crashed and crumbled like an Iron fortress, as I honed in on the clear and sheer mix of rage, disgust and contempt that flowed through my very veins.

I'd never felt such a potent mix of… negativity in my life. There was no confusing them as not mine. That wasn't the issue. It was who they belonged to that was the issue.

They came from the resident Uchiha, obviously.

But even though they weren't mine, in my lapse, they bled into my bubble. Into me.

Part of me wanted to gag, another part of me wanted to run, and a very vocal part of me wanted to scream and shout, to rage and hit things. In fact, I could feel my heart rate pick up as part of me grew more and more incensed at the… the sheer indignity.

How dare he?

But… heirs don't throw tantrums. My pride—what little was left—wouldn't allow it.

My own indignation had me halt in my tracks, and I felt a single tear burn as it flowed down my left cheek.

Fine, I wasn't stupid. I could take a hint. No need to scream it at me, to shove it down my throat.

Part of me though—a traitorous part— thought that no, I could not take a hint. Yes, this had blindsided me. And yes, it stung.

A lot.

Maybe not as much as Sakura did, but it stung all the same.

I could delude myself all I wanted but when it was as clear as day… I skipped past my usual seat and bee-lined to the back of the class, as far away as I could get from Sasuke and the gaggle of students at the front.

I ignored the curious looks I received as the contempt and disgust left me.

The rage stayed though. That was mine, apparently.

My face sought the pit of my elbow immediately after I took my seat, and I let out a pained groan.

Oh Kami, this isn't great. This isn't great at all.

Let me know if the format is wonky, I'm not used to scribblehub's formatting at all (It keeps bending my spacing over).

Also, if any terminology is foreign to you, feel free to check the glossary.

Also... try not to judge me too hard for arc1, I find that I really hit my stride in arc2 I think, part of me wants to go back and rewrite arc1 (not necessarily change the plot beats, but add more meat inbetween, and handle the execution better) but nothing will kill my momentum more than having to do that.

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