intraspective | Room 504, Wednesday Late Evening

Ino ushered Tether in, taking him off his leash, and shut the door to her room with a sigh. Leaning against it, she watched as the puppy made himself comfortable on her bed with a whump of displaced air.

That got a bit of a grin, a small one, but there. “Maybe I’ll see if I can keep you, yeah?” she said, knowing she wouldn’t ask but the thought was the same—she did like having him around. He wasn’t going to care that she was in a bad mood, or that she wasn’t looking forward to tracking down, well, her.

And he hadn’t paid any bit of attention to her haircut. She appreciated that because she totally didn’t want to talk about it. Totally didn’t. She’d cried while they’d done it.

“Move over,” she told him, slumping exhaustedly on the bed. “It’s not your bed.”

He licked her hand, and she laughed quietly.

[Establishy mainly, and the door is shut but open if you have reason to talk to her. And as of this post, Ino’s hair is short (despite some of her icons, la). Mwah.]

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"Perhaps I should do something similar?" he asked her with a faint smile, running through his hair with one hand.

"It is a curly mess, after all."

"Don't," Ino said. "I like your hair, it's adorable."

"Adorable?"

He finally slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned on it.

"Adorable. Sometimes," he said with a teasing tone, "I think you think I'm the younger one."

That got a bit of a shrug. "I've called people older than you adorable."

"I have no doubt," he said with a faint smile, though he still looked worried.

"Yeah," Ino looked down, staring at her hands.

"Ino?"

He leaned against the door.

"Is there anything I can do?"

That got the faintest shake of her head. She was going to have to fix things all by herself, she knew that.

But...

"...a hug?"

That wasn't too weak, right? She hoped not.

He'd taken his strength from his father earlier, practically curled up like a cat.

The arm was offered before she even finished the word.

That clinging there? Was totally in his imagination.

Only not.

He just held onto her, as he did, and kissed her hair.

"It really does look nice. Shows off the shape of your face."

"It's weird," she said, leaning against him. "My head feels too light."

"Isn't there plenty of brains weighing it down?" he asked lightly.

That got a displeased grumble, though her clinging didn't alter one bit.

"It's not funny."

"I didn't think it was funny. I was trying to compliment you."

"I'm not smart."

And that had been made abundantly clear, thanks.

"All right."

He wouldn't accept it, but he could accept that's not how she felt.

...

...

"Go away."

He didn't move.

He looked down at her.

"What now?"

...yes, you've surprised him.

"You're not helping!"

She knew, somewhere in the back of her head, that there was no way he could help because he wasn't from her world and didn't get it.

She knew that.

It didn't stop her from feeling betrayed by that realization though.

He didn't hold her, but he didn't let her go either.

"Oh? And what will help, hmm?"

She forcibly pulled away from him, putting her back to the wall and looking defiant.

"Not you."

It hit him like a slap to the face and the breath in was deep and harsh. His eyes blinked slow, as if he was willing time to still, before a shiver ran through him.

Eyes like chips of green eyes looked back at her.

"I see."

Of course.

There were too many things that ran through his head, a thousand unlikely events that would have gone on at home. He might have been able to take it any other day, but today he'd had to deal with Andrew. Today, he'd nearly told his father what lay before him.