Chapter 9: Arc 1: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Graduation was fast approaching, and I sat on the field leaning up against Chouji. We were having our final sets of Taijutsu spars—merely for show, of course, teams had already been decided after all, according to dad— and Hina currently faced up against Sasuke.

"Go Hina!" I cheered, loudly, and received many scathing looks from my former friends. Sakura included.

I stuck out a tongue at them and continued, "Beat that edgy brat into the ground!"

Hina was flush with embarrassment, but that only egged me on more. I waved my obnoxiously large, bright red foam finger in the air, with InoShikaChoHina#1 written in big and bold gold letters.

They performed the Seal of Confrontation with a light bow on Hina's part, and a sneer on Sasuke's.

"Begin!"

Sasuke immediately went to monologue, "You may have been improving but—" but Hina didn't give him any time, and immediately set upon him.

Hina's rapid advance put him on the back foot from the get-go. He'd evaded a quick set of open palm jabs which targeted his arms, and jumped back to evade Hina's followup sweep.

That's right, sweep.

She had been incorporating more and more into her frantic Taijutsu style as of late. Apparently, her hands weren't enough, and she'd been practicing the Gentle Fist… with her feet. Should it be called the Gentle Body now?

Funnily enough, after that decision she'd grown even faster, as practice with her feet led her to discover ways of applying Chakra to her soles and ankles that allowed for more force in quick extreme movements.

She was becoming a menace up close, and I was all for it.

I grinned as I watched Sasuke evade fervently, and not much else. Maybe if Ninjutsu were allowed, he could do something in the scant moments that he could breathe. But that was not the game we were playing.

He dodged under an extremely fast left, and misjudging Hina's speed he went to counter, only to receive a tap on his shoulder in response. He rolled back as that shoulder sagged, barely evading a stomp from Hina.

She transitioned that stomp into a lunge, and kept the pressure up.

Sasuke was being whittled down, and by the look on his face, he couldn't do a single thing about it.

His eyes promised murder as Hina struck his other arm, and then his thighs, and finished it off with an unenhanced blow to his abdomen.

That last hit was completely unnecessary; I knew it, Sasuke knew it. Hell, even Sensei knew it. And from the grin on Hina's face, she definitely knew it too.

Sasuke collapsed as Sensei called the match, and Hina performed the Seal of Reconciliation as Sasuke glared as his arms flopped bonelessly at his sides. If glares could kill, we'd all have been dead thrice over.

"Woo!" I cheered as Hina made her way gracefully back to our little group. I turned my nose up a little bit towards the scathing glares I received.

My friends are the best! Hmph!

Chouji grinned, happy to be avenged somewhat; The last time Sasuke faced against Chouji, he humiliated him. Berated him. I had murder in my eyes as I watched him walk off the field that day.

"Good job wiping that dumb smirk off his face," Shikamaru apparently shared the sentiment, as he congratulated her as she sat beside me.

She giggled and leaned into my side.

 

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Eventually, Chouji went up against Kiba.

"Go Chouji! Kick his ass!" I cheered loudly for him while Shikamaru groaned.

It was doubtful that Chouji would win, and not because he was weak or anything. His fighting style was mostly centered around the Akimichi Hijutsu. From his movement, to his Taijutsu style, it all centered around using Chakra.

All of which he was denied access to.

"Chou!"

He'd make do, of course; We all knew the Academy standard Taijutsu style. But it was very basic, and for one who dedicated most of their time to another style, it was… detrimental, to say the least.

A waste of time, to say more.

"Ji!"

In the end, Kiba was too fast for Chouji to catch under normal circumstances.

Kiba weaved around Chouji, ducking under limbs while he peppered Chouji with taunts and strikes. His laughter never stopped as he focused on Chouji's back.

Strike after strike.

I could feel Hina's annoyance spike beside me as her eyes narrowed.

It was… a little bit painful to watch to be honest, if Jutsu were allowed this would've been a completely different fight. But alas, there was no room for excuses.

Even though the result was obvious, I didn't lower my finger until he returned to his seat beside us.

He was still number one in our hearts.

 

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When my turn came around, I leapt out of my spot in the grass, and quickly made my way over.

Only to freeze as I heard a demure voice shouting from behind me, "Woo! Go Ino…" her voice faltered as the entire class stared at her in shock and awe, as her hand—with my obnoxious amazing foam finger wrapped around it— stilled in the air.

I wish I had a camera—oh, no need. Shikamaru was oddly prepared for once.

It will be framed.

I grinned back at her, hands on my hips, as my opponent stepped up.

My grin faltered.

It was Naruto.

I whimpered a tiny bit. Oh Kami.

"I'm definitely going to win! Believe it!" he shouted, but my mind wasn't there. I could only envision all the ways I'd die here. All the ways my flesh would be rent from my bones.

I did so well. I ignored him for the entire year. I made him out to be a metaphysical black hole in my senses. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.

When he walked, I saw nothing.

When he spoke, I heard nothing.

When he lingered, I said nothing.

I kept it up for so long. Was this my prize? A quick death right before the cusp of salvation?

Could I forfeit? Should I?

A glance at Hina as she bravely waved the finger back and forth made my decision for me.

I had to try.

I'm going to die here.

I shakily made the Seal of Conflict, and as soon as Sensei yelled "Begin!" he was on me.

He was fast. Not as fast as Hina, but fast nonetheless.

I weaved through his haphazard blows effortlessly, and he strung strike after strike in a chaotic mesh of an offence. I didn't have much leeway, as his moves weren't planned. Like Hina had began to do, he moved instinctively, and moved without much forethought.

That meant I had minimal time to actually see what he was doing.

My dodges were all near things, but eventually I grew used to the pace, and openings bloomed in front of my very eyes.

"Hey! Sit still would ya!?"

I let a swipe sing past my face, and I took my shot as the displaced air buffeted my eyelashes. My right rocketed straight into his chin, and he staggered back as I rode the momentum and swung my left leg in a snappy whirling blow which caught him across the chest.

Unexpectedly, he was sent flying back and landed on his feet for but a single moment, before fell back he collapsed onto his back.

Half of me expected him to just ignore the blow, and I was prepared to move.

Did I hit him too hard?

I propped him up in my mind as some half demon killing machine, but maybe I was wrong?

I probed his mind, and it was… blank. There was nothing. He was out cold.

For one moment, I was in stunned disbelief. My relief was palpable. For just one moment. In the next, in just a snap, he immediately regained consciousness and flipped back to his feet without preamble.

In the next moment. Just that one single moment. There was murder in his eyes.

I gulped.

He was on me. More fervent than before. More feral.

"That hurt! Damnit!" He yelled, and spittle grazed my face as I acclimated to the new pace.

I saw a hint of red in his eyes as I ducked under his two clawed hands—claws? what the hell— and delivered two rapid punches to his gut, and a rising knee to his neck once he'd bent over in recoil.

I felt him struggle to breathe, and with each attempt, his anger rose.

I glanced at Sensei who… looked wary, but let the proceedings continue.

Okay then…

I contemplated forfeiting right then and there, I didn't want to kill the kid—and he was certainly a kid, age notwithstanding— but I didn't know how much he could take. He'd most certainly recover from the previous set of blows.

If and when he did, I wasn't sure how far I could push before I inevitably became Kyuubi food.

Uncharacteristically, I gave him the time needed as I pondered. I didn't know the mechanics of what was going on in the boy. There was too much I didn't know. So I hesitated.

Was this how Shika felt? Were fights to him as troublesome as this one was to me?

That hesitation costed me as he growled, and came at me again.

Somehow, he was faster. Each blow felt like it rent the very air as my hair whipped about as I dodged.

He lost all sense of cohesion in his style, and I delivered yet another punch into his neck. I'd expected him to falter. I'd expected him to at least react.

He did neither. He pressed on as I quickly retreated, and I felt like I was seeing double—no, triple. Naruto seemed to split into more and more of himself, and I had to focus only on the real one.

He was fooling my senses somehow.

With every dodge, I felt as if a noose tightened more and morea round my neck. Like the Shinigami breathed down my shoulder with his icy breath.

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My cheek burned as I evaded a strike, only for a nail to drag itself across it.

No matter how many blows I delivered to his weak points, no matter how many strikes to the throat, to the groin—the class stopped wincing in unison after the third time— to the armpits. It didn't matter where.

He didn't stay down for long, if he even went down in the first place.

He just kept coming.

He fell. He got up again.

Over and over.

He became more and more fervent, and I was getting tired. I wanted to end it. I wanted—no, needed— him to stay down.

I fingered a shuriken in my pocket before deciding I could try one more thing—I'd try to figure out how he was fooling my senses.

This could've been kept up forever if I could just see him right. There would be no worry. No fuss.

So I did the one thing I vowed never to do. I looked at Uzumaki Naruto. I did the other one thing I extremely vowed never to do. I dug deeper into the connection.

I peered past the veil.

My legs froze when I heard a snicker.

I saw it, "Well well…" It saw me.

That small moment of shock and fear was all he needed to straddle me. He grappled me to the ground in a chaotic tackle of limbs and teeth.

I heard a crack when he pummeled the concrete tiles behind my head as I weaved with what little room I had.

There was so much force in his flailing limbs.

I felt like one blow would've been enough to take my head clean off.

So much force, but so little sense. It was only a matter of time before he'd get lucky, or target my torso.

So I reached for a Kunai.

It wasn't worth dying for this. This spar wasn't worth dying for. I wasn't going to die to some fucking fox, like a helpless damsel.

My kunai drew blood on his neck, and I plunged deeper, but before I pierced any deeper Sensei pulled—no, threw— him off of me.

My breath was laboured and panicked as I rapidly got to my feet, guard up, ready to continue fighting for my life.

Sensei delivered a quick Chankra imbued jab to his temple, and he was out like a light. Again.

That wasn't enough for me though. I'd done the exact same before, and he just came back stronger. I stared at the lightly breathing body, ready for action. My hand gripped my Kunai tighter. My other fingered a row of Shuriken.

Sensei looked back at me, angry.

What?

What was he mad at me for?

"Yamanaka Ino has been disqualified, weaponry is not allowed during Taijutsu spars."

I glared at him in disbelief.

Fuck you too, Sensei. That stopped being a spar when he started cracking the tiles under me.

I grit my teeth, but said nothing. He was nothing to me. I was an heiress. Jounin was my starting point.

I ran my tongue over my teeth as my temper flared.

He's nothing to me.

I seethed.

Breathe, Ino.

With a deep breath, I calmed myself down—or at least, calmed my heart and lungs down. I swept my hair back, and with a flourish I walked off the stage.

Of course, I gave a wide berth to the prone unconscious demon on the floor.

I was prideful, not suicidal.

Shikamaru swapped glances between myself, the demon, and the cracks in the floor, before releasing a single disbelieving chuckle.

"Really? All this time?"

I nodded, because what else could I do?

Hina's Byakyugan was active, and she stared wide eyed in silence as I sat down beside her, before she too released a disbelieving chuckle.

I rubbed my aching hand—teeth marks marred my knuckles red.

Chouji stuck a piece of candy in my mouth.

It was grape.

 

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Sensei placed a Konoha branded headband in my hands, a fake smile donned on his stupid face. I wouldn't let him ruin this moment for me. I'd worked for this—well, I'd worked for more, for other things, but all my training helped with this.

It was an achievement. My achievement. It felt like a chapter of my life slowly came to a close with this.

I struggled with fitting it around my forehead, my single tendril fought it every step of the way. With a huff, I abandoned that endeavour.

I glanced at Hina as she wrapped hers around her neck.

Hrm. Neck or Arm?

I'd consider wrapping it around my thigh, but I add and remove weights too frequently for that to be viable. My weights wrapped snug around my thighs and ankles during training, so I'd have to remove the headband during those moments?

As Shikamaru once—always— said, troublesome.

Neck it is then, we'd match.

I found myself getting a bit teary eyed as I wrapped it around my neck. The good kind of tears.

I refused to look at Naruto as he sat in a tree outside of the proceedings, somewhat glad that he'd somehow failed.

That was petty of me, I know.

I regret nothing.

We hugged and cheered, and between the three of us we lifted Chouji above our heads.

I don't think he'd ever expected anything of the sort, judging by his boisterous laughter.

It was good times.

 

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I thought he failed!?

I wanted nothing more than to throw a chair at his stupid face.

I glared without sight at the demon brat that sat in the classroom, a bright carefree grin beset on his face. A headband was wrapped around his forehead. A Konoha headband. The same Konoha headband we all received. The same one he very clearly didn't.

I seethed.

It was fine, Ino. He must have gotten it legitimately.

There was no way he'd walk around with a fake. Not in Konoha.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Has nothing to do with me. Such worries were beneath me.

Hina placed a comforting hand on top of mine, stopping my finger from rapidly tapping the desk. I felt myself calm down just from the proximity. We shared a quick glare at the brat together. Team unity and all that.

"Team 7: Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke! Lead by Jounin Hatake Kakashi!" Iruka Sensei yelled, which was only beat in volume by Sakura's scream.

Huh.

Good for her, I guess.

The yellow haired menace screamed obscenities at the raven haired brooder. All was normal.

I ignored them both.

"Team 8: Hyuuga Hinata, Inuzuka Kiba, Aburame Shino! Lead by Jounin Yuuhi Kurenai!" I felt Hina's grip on her emotions shatter as she fell into despair. I did what I defaulted to, and tugged her towards me. The comforting touch did as much for her as it did for me.

We all knew this was coming. It was inevitable. We'd still be friends.

It was still sad.

"Team 10: Nara Shikamaru, Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Chouji! Lead by Jounin Akimichi Chouza!" I didn't expect that uncle Chouza would be our Jounin Sensei, but I was glad for it. I don't know how I'd fare keeping a secret from a state sponsored Jounin, and I was glad I didn't have to try.

I wanted to do something nice for Hina though, "Hey Hina, do you wanna sleep over this weekend?"

She responded quickly with a nod, before stilling. Her thoughts flitted between random details about sleepovers, and I chuckled.

Her Sensei arrived and she left alongside with her new team.

None of us missed the longing glance she gave us as she left.

Shikamaru grunted.

It didn't take long for uncle Chouza—no, Chouza Sensei— to arrive, and he'd immediately took us out for barbecue.

"How're you feeling, kids? Ready for the big leagues? Well, more like the little leagues. You guys just entered the gates after all," he laughed at his own joke, and we nodded like a set of ducklings as we filled our stomachs.

He shared stories about his youth—shinobi around us cringed involuntarily at that word— and we generally just sat around talking, sharing laughs.

Shikamaru cringed when I left my portion on the grill for a bit too long, but I reveled in the scent. And the taste.

Ooh.

The night was for celebration, after all. The real work began tomorrow.

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