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Jun. 7th, 2006 10:01 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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chuunin_archivetitle: untitled
author: elict
pairing: implied sakuxino, i guess...
rating: PG for dark thoughts
warning(s): unbeta-ed, author's crazyness and probably completely without any logical explanation
AN: i seriously can't understand Ino, guess this is my twisted way to try and give her some depth... :S
don't hate me. hugs n' kisses!
author: elict
pairing: implied sakuxino, i guess...
rating: PG for dark thoughts
warning(s): unbeta-ed, author's crazyness and probably completely without any logical explanation
AN: i seriously can't understand Ino, guess this is my twisted way to try and give her some depth... :S
Sometimes, when the light has gone out, and Sakura lays silent in the other room, Ino tries to look in her mirror. For once really look, look past that diffuse picture, look deeper, try and see if there is really a trace of her soul left. Look, bite her lip and look, clench her fists and force herself too look, to face the emptiness that she is sure will surface, the nothing that waits for her under thick facades, high walls of denial.
Sometimes, when Konoha sleeps and the night is dark enough to be able to hide the picture in the mirror, Ino gets as far as to sitting on the floor in front of the high piece of glass, her head lowered and her chest tight in fear and loneliness, too afraid of what she’ll meet behind the image of her blue, dull eyes, to look up, look through, behind, inside…
Sometimes, when the daylight is turned on and Sakura is waiting for her in the kitchen, breakfast ready, Ino tries to imagine how she would look if that trying smile, the one that she knows will stay on the whole day, the one that has to stay on the whole day, would be real. If it hadn’t just been a second lair of make-up, just as fake as the paint she lengthens her eyelashes with.
Would she be pretty then? Could she stop worrying about her weight, her hair, her looks, her clothes and how her smiles look? Would she beautiful?
Is there still something in her soul, behind the image in the mirror, that is truly beautiful?
Sometimes, when she thinks about the irony in the fact that the power of her clan is to enter other people’s minds, she almost has to laugh, just a small, strangled laugh, one that falters before her chest tightens too much and the laugh turns into a sob. She has seen so many lost humans, looked into the darkest corners of their hearts, but she can’t even face her own reflection in the loneliness of her own, safe room.
Sometimes, when she remembers Sakura, remembers the other girl’s bright smile, her sparkling teal eyes, the softness in her features when she looks at Ino, the softness, that tells her that Sakura knows, that she understands, she is almost able to lift her gaze, to meet the terrified blue eyes of a girl she doesn’t know, that she is so afraid of getting to know, that will shove her face into the dirt that lies stuffed away in her heart, the dark thoughts, the hate, the fright, the weakness…
Because even if Sakura doesn’t care, the dull moonlight that traces Ino’s room is still too bright; not even the memory of Sakura’s smile, her braveness, her warmth, is enough to give her the strength to face that girl. Ino lowers her gaze, throws her arms around her legs, curls up to a small, small ball, shields herself from that mirror, the reality she will have to face one day, just a little longer, just a while longer…
No tears will fall. No sobs will echo in the room and break the silence, only the soft rustle of her night-clothes will be heard, as she rocks back and forth, clinging to her own embrace as she is afraid that if she lets go, she will drop herself, she will lose that small sanity that she forces herself to believe that she has.
No Sakura will come. No Sakura with bright eyes and soft smiles, no Sakura with hands that smells of medical herbs and hospital detergent, no Sakura…
Sometimes, when Sakura doesn’t come, Ino doesn’t go back to her bed for the whole night.
Sometimes, when Konoha sleeps and the night is dark enough to be able to hide the picture in the mirror, Ino gets as far as to sitting on the floor in front of the high piece of glass, her head lowered and her chest tight in fear and loneliness, too afraid of what she’ll meet behind the image of her blue, dull eyes, to look up, look through, behind, inside…
Sometimes, when the daylight is turned on and Sakura is waiting for her in the kitchen, breakfast ready, Ino tries to imagine how she would look if that trying smile, the one that she knows will stay on the whole day, the one that has to stay on the whole day, would be real. If it hadn’t just been a second lair of make-up, just as fake as the paint she lengthens her eyelashes with.
Would she be pretty then? Could she stop worrying about her weight, her hair, her looks, her clothes and how her smiles look? Would she beautiful?
Is there still something in her soul, behind the image in the mirror, that is truly beautiful?
Sometimes, when she thinks about the irony in the fact that the power of her clan is to enter other people’s minds, she almost has to laugh, just a small, strangled laugh, one that falters before her chest tightens too much and the laugh turns into a sob. She has seen so many lost humans, looked into the darkest corners of their hearts, but she can’t even face her own reflection in the loneliness of her own, safe room.
Sometimes, when she remembers Sakura, remembers the other girl’s bright smile, her sparkling teal eyes, the softness in her features when she looks at Ino, the softness, that tells her that Sakura knows, that she understands, she is almost able to lift her gaze, to meet the terrified blue eyes of a girl she doesn’t know, that she is so afraid of getting to know, that will shove her face into the dirt that lies stuffed away in her heart, the dark thoughts, the hate, the fright, the weakness…
Because even if Sakura doesn’t care, the dull moonlight that traces Ino’s room is still too bright; not even the memory of Sakura’s smile, her braveness, her warmth, is enough to give her the strength to face that girl. Ino lowers her gaze, throws her arms around her legs, curls up to a small, small ball, shields herself from that mirror, the reality she will have to face one day, just a little longer, just a while longer…
No tears will fall. No sobs will echo in the room and break the silence, only the soft rustle of her night-clothes will be heard, as she rocks back and forth, clinging to her own embrace as she is afraid that if she lets go, she will drop herself, she will lose that small sanity that she forces herself to believe that she has.
No Sakura will come. No Sakura with bright eyes and soft smiles, no Sakura with hands that smells of medical herbs and hospital detergent, no Sakura…
Sometimes, when Sakura doesn’t come, Ino doesn’t go back to her bed for the whole night.
don't hate me. hugs n' kisses!
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-08 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-08 06:38 am (UTC)thanx for reading ^^