Chapter 4: Arc 1: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

I woke up the following morning feeling stressed, both physically and mentally. My subconscious mind had decided that it wanted to see more than just my own dreams. So it decided to glean the dreams of my neighbour's. Fortunately, living on the clan compound meant that we were all family here.

Unfortunately, I wasn't too keen on seeing the wet dreams of my uncles and aunties.

Turns out, my passive range expanded. For good or for ill. I now got front row seats to the pretty thoughts people around me thought before dismissing them.

Every instance of wanting your kid to shut up for just. One. Minute.

Every instance of wondering why the owner of the bookstore hated you. Surely not because you called his wife fat. No, that'd be unreasonable.

Every instance of wanting your husband to just trip onto a kunai—

Why was that exact thought so common? And more importantly, why so early in the morning? How are these spouses managing to tick each other off so quickly?

It was a lot, okay?

On the bright side, I wasn't hearing whispers anymore. So hopefully that meant my range wasn't going to expand again.

I trudged into my bathroom, and stared at the mirror in horror. Was that really me?

My skin was pale, as if I hadn't seen the sun in days. A darkened shade started to form under and around my eyes.

My blonde hair was untamed, as if I'd just ran a marathon instead of sleeping.

I looked tired. I felt tired.

I'm a mess. Ugh.

 

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I was joined by Shikamaru and Chouji during my walk to school, and they immediately bombarded me with their totally unwarranted observations.

"You don't look so great, Ino—" "—You look like crap."

"Thanks guys. I appreciate the heads up. Totally had no idea," my response may have been… a tad snippier than necessary. I was aware that these new sensations and emotions needed an outlet, but my friends and family were not that.

I sighed as I observed my own feelings of guilt rise in intensity.

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you, Ino," Shikamaru stated drily, not offended at all, but Chouji, Sweet Chouji, wilted like a rose in winter.

I grimaced as I placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm Sorry. I had a… gross morning," I said apologetically, "Turns out my range increased. My neighbours are very…" and trailed off with a wave of my hand, in an attempt to will understanding of my neighbours' everything into them.

Shikamaru groaned in rational understanding, and Chouji asked, "Can you ignore it?"

My voice dropped into a whisper as I pulled them closer, no signs of interest or focus in the immediate range, but I wanted to be careful regardless, "It's hard. It looks and sounds and feels to me like they're my own thoughts, my own emotions. But I know they aren't."

"Just needs practice then," leave it to Shikamaru to simplify the solution.

My irritation spiked and I was tempted to deliver a sarcasm-laced response, but instead I forced myself to be calm, "I know," I sighed, "I know. It'll get better…" I struggled for the words needed to convey my thoughts, "Just… I'll try not to be too testy in the mean time."

They both nodded and we continued walking.

"If anyone can do it, it's you Ino," what a brilliant show of faith, Chouji. I couldn't help but grin. I may not believe it one bit but his faith was appreciated.

At some point, I felt Sakura creep into the edge of my awareness. I felt her zone in on me. I felt her desire to approach. I felt her hesitation. I felt her frustration. Her smug desire to gloat. Her tiny tinge of guilt right afterwards. I felt her sadness. Her loneliness.

I felt it all with a distinct, sharp clarity; And I let it wash over me.

I fled kept walking.

 

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Shikamaru and Chouji took their usual seats at the back, and I was tempted to follow them, but instead I let myself zone in on Hinata instead.

I took a seat beside her—at the back in a corner— and grimaced as I realized that my range encompassed the entire class. There was no escape.

She looked at me with curious pale eyes, two parts unnerving and intriguing. She instinctively activated her Byakugan, veins bulged around her eyes in a quick seamless transition, and I felt her anxiety spike as I unraveled before her very eyes.

My layers of makeup were useless before the Hyuuga Doujutsu.

She saw the fatigue that plagued my face, my body. She saw my Chakra roil in response to her probing. She saw my Chakra flow like mud, mired in exhaustion. She saw all of that, and felt… pure unfiltered concern.

Naturally, I became nervous. I'd blundered. What a brilliant first impression I'd made.

There were no secrets before the Hyuuga, after all.

"Are… Are you okay, Yamanaka san?" she asked after a light bow. Her voice was soft like the delicate petals of a blooming Camellia. Light and fleeting, as if she—like the wind, was ready to bolt at the first instance of a loud noise.

Have I ever heard her speak before? I'm sure I must have. I know we've interacted in the past. Two heirs of prestigious clans. We weren't complete strangers.

Why doesn't she speak more often?

"Umm—"

"—Ah, right, sorry. Got distracted," her concern increased in intensity, and I felt as if a tiny bit of my exhaustion bled away, "Please, call me Ino."

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Her deep-sea blue bangs flowed freely as she slightly shook her head, "That'd be improper—"

"—No, please," I felt galvanized as we spoke. I couldn't let her win on this point—we weren't stuffy old men, after all— I stuck out a hand, "I'm Ino, let's be friends," and hit her with a bright smile.

I felt her anxiety spike once again, but this time for a different reason.

She was hesitant, but she eventually took my hand—why are her hands so soft? Aren't the Hyuuga primarily Taijutsu practicioners? Do they have special lotion? I'd have to ask later.

Tension bled away from her shoulders as we shook, before her anxiety spiked again after I said, "So, let's play 10 questions!"

Is that healthy? To be so excitable. Is it unhealthy? Hrm.

"W-what?"

"10 questions. We take turns asking each other questions about each other."

Maybe I was coming on too strong, but I just didn't know any other way. Being up front worked for Sakura, and it worked for most of my current friends.

None of my friends were so… skittish, though.

Hrm.

I pointedly ignored Shikamaru's curious gaze from a few seats away, and I could feel her suspicion rise and fall conversely with her curiosity.

Eventually, curiosity seemed to win out, "Okay."

"Alright, I'll go first. What's your favourite food?"

She lied effortlessly, "Salads with a side of strawberry slices," while her thoughts sold her out. She loved spicy braised pork, she'd felt energized from spicy foods, but none in her family particularly cared for it.

They hated it.

Unfortunately for me, her mind didn't wander. She was so focused on the task of thinking about pork that she almost forgot to pose her own question, "And yours?"

"Hmm," I thought carefully, she lied—perhaps she had her own reasons— but I didn't want to follow suit, "Well, I have two," I said with two raised fingers, "For one, I adore grapes. And it may be weird, but I like overcooked chicken. That after taste when it's slightly burnt is my guilty pleasure."

She gave me a confused look, "I can't say I'm familiar."

"I wouldn't expect you to be," I waved a hand carelessly, "Alright next. Favourite colour?"

She answered immediately, "White," yet it was another brazen lie. Her imagination immediately blossomed with a brilliant royal purple.

Ah. So she's telling me the things that Hyuuga are expected to like? How… boring, "And yours?" she asked coolly.

My brow twitched as I shot her an annoyed look, "I'm partial to blues and purples. The brightness doesn't really matter so much as the hues for me," after I said that I hummed to myself, that wasn't the entire truth, "Although recently I saw a very vibrant red that I liked a lot."

Was she just going to return all my questions to me? That… wasn't the point of the game at all, really.

"Favourite flower? Mine's the Aconitum, by the way," also known as the Wolfsbane. Very beautiful, very dangerous. I'd pre-empted her question by giving the answer right away.

"I don't know many… Roses I guess?" How… standard. Vanilla. Luckily for me, her mind went in another direction, maybe those pretty bright yellow ones that bloom after it rains a lot.

Ah, Creeping Buttercups. Annoying fellows. Pretty though.

She visibly hesitated, only now realizing my trap. She'd have to ask me an original question.

I could see her flit through emotions, anxiety warring with budding curiosity, but eventually, curiosity won out.

However, it was with a question that I didn't expect, "Pardon me for asking but…" she visibly visibly hesitated again, thankfully it was only brief, "Why did you choose to speak to me?"

I could feel her resignation as she went down an honestly depressing thought pattern. Memories of others approaching her in her youth, only to shy away as time passed. How she felt estranged in her own home.

I'm not gonna say my heart broke but, it wobbled a bit.

I had many answers for that particular question though, each one jumped to the tip of my tongue before being overturned by the next.

Because you looked lonely.

Because you looked sad.

Because I'm not sure if anyone in class has seen you smile before.

Because you remind me of Sakura, before.

Eventually, I settled on, "Because you looked like you needed a friend."

Her anxiety bled away into a relieved but cautious smile, but before I could pose a followup question, I flinched as I felt a thin cylindrical object launch into my range.

Coming straight at me.

It barreled straight towards my face, and acted quickly; I instinctively caught it between two fingers, completely halting its' momentum. It didn't move faster than Shikamaru did, and I'd already made headway on that.

Stopping the projectile didn't stop it from spreading a thin film of chalk dust all over my fingers though.

Annoying.

I turned to glare at Sensei, whose expression was locked in a shocked state. I guess he didn't expect me to actually catch it.

He regained his composure quickly, and let his exasperation show, "Yamanaka Ino, please refrain from distracting your classmates!"

I heard a soft giggle to my right, and turned to see that yes, she was capable of smiling. She laughed lightly, while unfortunately covering her mouth with her palm. Pity.

How… demure.

Still, I'd count it as a win. Because of that, I decided that I'd let Sensei live without experiencing my chalk-filled retribution.

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