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intraspectiveFandom was smothering.
It was mid-afternoon by the time that Ino's portal dropped her off and, still feeling... off, she was careful to keep from being seen as she made her way back up to the dorms.
To her room. With the door that locked.
Inside, the only things that could bother her were her plants, and the plants were never a bother.
Ino slumped against the door, struggling to push back, push away, the last week and deal with how Fandom just kept—going on. Happily. Cheerfully. It was all the same as usual, her passing through town like a wraith, all unseen had shown her that. She had to fake it until it was real. Had to. Couldn't talk to people about it, didn't want—
Them to hate her. That was stupid. Why should she care? The floor was cool under her hands and Ino struggled to find balance, mental balance. Any sort of balance. Something steady. If she wanted to stay in Fandom—and she did—then she had to do this. Right now.
No freaking out. Then people would want to know and they couldn't. Knowing was bad. Bad for her.
In. Count to seven. Out. Count to seven. In. Out. Grabbing for the earliest bit of calm she knew. Meditation. Baby stuff. Her father sitting with her in his lap. Listen to my breathing, and follow. She had to try. Lie to herself, just enough so she could pretend that Fandom was okay and home was okay and that she was strong enough to handle both of them all alone.
She failed. She wasn't that strong. Weak.
Ino lasted barely an hour before, almost in tears; she figured out that right here, right now, that she couldn't be here. Shouldn't be here. Fandom was crushing her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't deal with the fact that here, right here, if anyone knew what she'd done they'd recoil. Be horrified. Maybe treat her like she was fragile and think she'd been forced into it. Or worse, find out that it was her choice, that she'd known and done it anyway, and freak out because that wasn't right and she was a monster or something.
She didn't feel like a monster though. Not with tears stinging at her eyes and the steady but failing to soothe rhythm of in and out count to seven—in and out count to seven—stuck in her head, her chest following her thoughts even as it failed to do anything but keep her alive.
Home—home wasn't, she couldn't go there, and they wouldn't get it. Good, Asuma-sensei had said. She didn't want to talk about good. Or about bad. Or about—what the mission was. It just was. Hokage-sama had ordered it. It was. End of story.
Forcing herself up, Ino stumbled over to the phone, where it lay on her bed, and punched in a number she knew by heart.
She didn’t know what she wanted, it was just a hope. Maybe he'd know. Maybe he'd have—an answer. Something. Understanding? It rang.
And rang.
"Please," she said desperately, voice hitching, cracking, she couldn't deal with this right now, didn't know what she could deal with, but Fandom was crushing her, wrecking her and she didn't dare talk to anyone else right now. They'd see it in her face. Little monster. Too weak. Her weaknesses were all over her skin, her voice, her face. The trembling in her arms as she held the phone like a lifeline. "Pick up. Please please please pick up. Please be there—"
She didn't notice when he picked up.
[For the guy on the other end of the line. That Ino got back and was really upset is FB everything else is NFB, please. Warning: Dark/disturbing matters likely to be discussed.]
It was mid-afternoon by the time that Ino's portal dropped her off and, still feeling... off, she was careful to keep from being seen as she made her way back up to the dorms.
To her room. With the door that locked.
Inside, the only things that could bother her were her plants, and the plants were never a bother.
Ino slumped against the door, struggling to push back, push away, the last week and deal with how Fandom just kept—going on. Happily. Cheerfully. It was all the same as usual, her passing through town like a wraith, all unseen had shown her that. She had to fake it until it was real. Had to. Couldn't talk to people about it, didn't want—
Them to hate her. That was stupid. Why should she care? The floor was cool under her hands and Ino struggled to find balance, mental balance. Any sort of balance. Something steady. If she wanted to stay in Fandom—and she did—then she had to do this. Right now.
No freaking out. Then people would want to know and they couldn't. Knowing was bad. Bad for her.
In. Count to seven. Out. Count to seven. In. Out. Grabbing for the earliest bit of calm she knew. Meditation. Baby stuff. Her father sitting with her in his lap. Listen to my breathing, and follow. She had to try. Lie to herself, just enough so she could pretend that Fandom was okay and home was okay and that she was strong enough to handle both of them all alone.
She failed. She wasn't that strong. Weak.
Ino lasted barely an hour before, almost in tears; she figured out that right here, right now, that she couldn't be here. Shouldn't be here. Fandom was crushing her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't deal with the fact that here, right here, if anyone knew what she'd done they'd recoil. Be horrified. Maybe treat her like she was fragile and think she'd been forced into it. Or worse, find out that it was her choice, that she'd known and done it anyway, and freak out because that wasn't right and she was a monster or something.
She didn't feel like a monster though. Not with tears stinging at her eyes and the steady but failing to soothe rhythm of in and out count to seven—in and out count to seven—stuck in her head, her chest following her thoughts even as it failed to do anything but keep her alive.
Home—home wasn't, she couldn't go there, and they wouldn't get it. Good, Asuma-sensei had said. She didn't want to talk about good. Or about bad. Or about—what the mission was. It just was. Hokage-sama had ordered it. It was. End of story.
Forcing herself up, Ino stumbled over to the phone, where it lay on her bed, and punched in a number she knew by heart.
She didn’t know what she wanted, it was just a hope. Maybe he'd know. Maybe he'd have—an answer. Something. Understanding? It rang.
And rang.
"Please," she said desperately, voice hitching, cracking, she couldn't deal with this right now, didn't know what she could deal with, but Fandom was crushing her, wrecking her and she didn't dare talk to anyone else right now. They'd see it in her face. Little monster. Too weak. Her weaknesses were all over her skin, her voice, her face. The trembling in her arms as she held the phone like a lifeline. "Pick up. Please please please pick up. Please be there—"
She didn't notice when he picked up.
[For the guy on the other end of the line. That Ino got back and was really upset is FB everything else is NFB, please. Warning: Dark/disturbing matters likely to be discussed.]
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 09:34 pm (UTC)He'd enjoyed every last minute of it. He'd laughed in the face of the target, and then he'd fried him until he wasn't moving anymore.
And then he'd found himself a dark corner to puke in.
"Call in sick. They got a day to find someone to cover for you, yo. Better'n goin' in and not bein' able to function."
Ticket: Booked.
"You got an hour to sort shit out, Ino. Any longer'n that, an' you'll miss your portal, yo."
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 09:41 pm (UTC)She was strong enough to last an hour, right? Yes. Not that pathetic. Even if this meant that she had to--think. Move. Couldn't curl up and fall apart.
Maybe that was the point.
"I won't miss it," Ino said, a tiny bit steadier. She had a goal. She had a mission. Portal in... fifty-nine minutes, now. You do the job.
"I. Thank you," she added softly. "For... you know." He knew.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 09:49 pm (UTC)It was. Someone had to stick their neck out for the rookies, after all.
"You got fifty-eight minutes, now. I'll meet you here, Rookie. Go on, pack."
no subject
Date: 2009-08-07 10:12 pm (UTC)She hung up, stared at the phone like it was a lifeline for a moment, then tucked it away and forced herself to her feet. Fifty-six minutes. She could do it.