It was hard to explain what it meant to be intelligent.

There was the obvious. You grasped ideas quicker when presented to you. New ideas came to you without prompting easier. Some people were just smarter than others in a noticeable and quantifiable manner. But it was hard to explain what that really, really meant when it came from someone that could think a little faster on average.

I’d always thought as I had. I’d always been quick on the uptake. Did people often compare how they breathed? How efficient they were with blinking? The idea of intelligence was an abstract one and I wasn’t all that special. Not compared to everyone else.

I lived in a world of ninja. AKA, punch wizards. That explained everything. In this world the intelligent were… At the risk of tarring myself with the same brush, what other ninja called prodigies were, as a whole, insane. Utterly batshit. Bugfuck nuts.

They were all a bunch of fruit loops and had zero common sense. You know. Like your average wizard. No sense of right and wrong… Right. Where was I going with this? Right. Back to that cyclical and cynical process where I doubted my own label of ‘prodigy’ of course. At least what the locals considered a prodigy.

I was sane.

I wasn’t crazy. Not even close. That disqualified me from that title by default. That I had the possibly entirely fabricated memories of a thirty-year-old man in my head and knowledge of a future that I couldn’t prove was real was just me being eccentric… I had a very good imagination. Because I was intelligent. But not intelligent. That was my story and I was sticking to it.

I just had a minor anxiety disorder. That was my only real problem. It was a problem I had because of course I did. It was a very normal problem and not at all a sign of mental instability. Because, you see, I wasn’t a prodigy. I was no one important. I wasn’t talented. I was just very motivated when it came to not dying.

That was another story I was sticking to if anyone asked. Because it was true. And sensible. It made sense.

My career involved dodging extremely sharp gardening tools and not getting gravity smashed by some dickhead with a god complex in a few years’ time. Possibly. People I hadn’t even met yet honestly wanted to kill me because I was a genin with a leaf mark on my forehead. Definitely. Why wouldn’t I have anxiety?

Exactly.

God, help me.

“Breathe, forehead girl.”

A hard finger flick to the forehead protector shocked me back to reality. It wasn’t even enough to rock my head back but it did have me putting my hands up to my head in a pavlovian response. Years upon years of this happening to me had left its mark.

There was only one person that could have done it and I didn’t even need to consciously see them first to let out a protest.

“Damn it, Ino! Quit it!”

Pavlov was a bitch… Or maybe it would be called a Yamanaka reaction? Ino response?

Psychiatry didn’t even exist yet outside of torture and interrogation. I had to get names for these things from somewhere.

“I really don’t get you, Sakura. I’ve known you since I was six and I swear you haven’t changed at all.” Ino shook her head at me with a smirk on her face. That, and with a clear lack of a promise to stop flicking me; I hadn’t gotten one out of her in twelve years but I kept trying anyway. “You’re the kunoichi of the year. You’re on the fast track to becoming one of the best combat medics Konoha has ever seen. What do you have to worry about?”

If only she knew.

“Everything,” I grumbled while adjusting my protector. It still felt like it didn’t sit right. Maybe Ino had the right idea, making it into a belt? “And you act like being the best straight out of the academy means anything.”

It really didn’t. It just meant you were good at basic, safe tests where you didn’t have to worry too much (we were still ninja after all) about getting something pointy somewhere sensitive... And having people roll their eyes at me whenever I brought up reality was getting old.

“What a killjoy. That’s just like you. What did I expect?” She bumped a slender shoulder against mine, those arm warmers of hers making it a lot softer than it should have been while she slid a menu in front of me with the expected roll of her eyes. I thought I might have felt a senbon. “Now stop being lame and order something. We’re celebrating and we don’t go to Yakiniku Q every day.”

That’s true. We didn’t. Or, at least, I didn’t. Ino was a Yamanaka. This store was run by the Akimichi. She got an Akimichi vassal’s discount. I most certainly did not.

I looked around, the hair on the back of my neck standing up as I saw people. Men. Women. Children. Milling around. Talking. Moving. Carrying pointy objects in clumsy fingers.

If this had been another time, as my mom would say, ‘we have barbecue at home’. We never did, but it was the thought that counted. The thought being I wasn’t made of money. Or steel. At another time. Not today though.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess we don’t become genin every day. This is a special occasion. I know.” I grudgingly gave into my best friend’s badgering to look through the menu and cry about the future state of my wallet: sort of full but not really. “I’m guessing I’ll be the only one eating this time around?”

Ino had responsibilities that I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if this was one of those times, but nothing wrong with an assumption.

“Ehhh. I’ll be getting a salad. A small one. But yeah. My dad is setting up a big dinner with Choji’s and Shika’s and I can’t skip out. Choji might get mad if I don’t try and eat a little piece of everything.” Ino put her chin on the back of her hand and blew a few strands of platinum-blonde hair out of her face, an expression of affected boredom plastered on. “Sorry I can’t take you along but, you know.”

I was right then.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Clan things. Thought so.” I flagged a waitress down, the poor girl clearly being run ragged by the influx of customers that had thought the same thing Ino and I had when it came to celebrating this year’s graduation. “Can I get the prime kalbi? Salted? Two servings? And water? That’s it.”

The waitress seemed relieved by how quick I’d been. “Of course.”

“A salad and a water. That’s it for me. Also, two servings?” Ino rose a brow at me as the waitress left. “Are you trying to get fat?”

“I’m trying to fill the empty hole in my heart where you were, preemptively,” was my dry reply. “And if it wasn’t for the prices I’d have gotten three.”

What? It was good food.

Her nose wrinkled. Pupil-less bluish-green eyes narrowed in faux-disgust. “Ugh. Where is your womanly pride, Sakura?”

“I’m not sure. Right here, I think.” I waggled my braid at her, the loops of the bright red ribbon around thick pink hair at the end tickling her nose. She only barely avoided sneezing. I only barely avoided having it end up between her teeth. “Eat well. Live long. This is why I’m the kunoichi of the year and you aren’t.”

Ino exhaled quickly through her nose, a glint in her eye. Her loose purple top seemed to inflate through pure emotion. That and an offended inhalation. “So now it matters.”

“Uh-huh.” I had a smirk of my own this time around. There were a lot of things you could say about Ino, but she really knew how to get me out of a funk. “Only because it matters to you.”

“How dare you.” Ino gasped, her voice now a whisper from behind her hand. “You are an evil, bitter, spiteful hag of a woman.”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised,” I drawled, fingers tapping on the menu in front of me as the minutes dragged on. “You knew what I was when you took me into your home.”

“Damn. You got me. It’s true. I knew what you were as soon as I saw you.” Ino playfully grimaced. “And I thought I could change you.”

“More fool you.” I couldn’t help the laugh I let out. That and what I said next. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Hmm, yeah. Me too. We’re going to be busy from now on, huh? Not like we’re going to be strangers, but...” Ino sighed, her hands now laying one on top of the other on the table. “We’re going to get put into teams. We’re going to be doing missions.”

“Training.”

“All you ever do is train.”

“And I’m going to do more of that. Just hours on hours of me getting sweaty and smelly and sore.” I nodded wistfully. Ino’s grimace became more real as I spoke. “I’ll be on the edge of chakra exhaustion all day, every day or bust. It’ll be great.”

Bleed a little now. Sweat a lot later. Don’t die like some fresh ANBU chunin that had just stepped into something way over their pay grade. What wasn’t to love about it?

“That’s gross. Just gross. I had to be twice as ladylike to fill the void you left behind, I swear.” Ino shuddered. Then the plates holding our food slid into their places, the waitress giving us a quick bow before vanishing once more. That had taken a while. “Ooh, yum.”

“Ooh, shiny.”

With a quick series of hand signs from under the table, I was sure it was all safe to eat. Safeish. You could never really tell. New poisons were made all the time.

But at least no one was offended.

Ino stuck her tongue out at me before digging into her meal. Lettuce. Tomato. A radish bit here and there. Rabbit food; I didn’t envy her at all. How could I, when I had some of the best prime rib in the land of fire cooking on the grill between me and Ino? And rice. Some of the best dipping sauce too.

The Akimichi didn’t run like eighty percent of the local food shops for no reason… I’d trade magical eyes for limitless amounts of good food any day.

Except not really. I was just saying that. Magical eyes were bullshit and I wanted a pair.

Just not in an Orochimaru sort of way… Did Danzo really need all those eyes in his arm? He could share, couldn’t he? A redistribution of resources might be needed… Or not at all. If there was a time I was ever confident enough to try and mug Danzo for his arm I probably didn’t need the eyes on it anyway.

Didn’t need to make more enemies than I already had. Not now.

I shook my head and focused on the food. Nice and juicy and that deep brown that had gotten me disapproving looks from my fellow meat-eaters more than once. A nice touch of crunchy char around the edges was what made it for me, the moist center just moist enough for the rice to stick to and the sauce to complement.

We didn’t come here every day. But I sure wish I did… Ino might have had a point. I could get fat eating like this. It would be easy.

That I had to cook it myself appealed to me on a visceral level. That meant that I’d cut out a step that could be used to get to me. I’d already made sure the grill in our table was clear a while ago as well so all the better.

The food on my end was gone soon after. From grill to mouth, it vanished; my wallet couldn’t take another round and the world was a less colorful place for it. “It’s unfair how good this is.”

And a possible habit. Fixed schedules were the enemy and something to avoid.

Ino looked up at me from the salad she’d been picking at. “Have you ever heard of enjoying your food, Sakura?”

“Do you think I’d have eaten it this fast if I didn’t enjoy it?”

“That sounds like something Choji would say, even if you are a lot prettier than that fatty. You two are something else.” She took one last bite of leaf and dropped her fork while her other hand pawed for a napkin. Her food wasn’t even halfway done and she’d thrown in the towel. Proof in action. “I’ll put this on my tab. Don’t worry about it.”

Right. Don’t worry about it, huh? Ino may have been my best friend but she wasn’t above applying a little leverage when she was going for an angle.

It was never anything big but, sometimes, I wish she would just say what she wanted instead of tiptoeing around the issue.

Also, if she was trying to entice me by pushing her chest out, she needed to wear tighter clothing. What she had on was pretty much a shapeless lavender bag that I’m pretty sure her dad had put over her head before pushing her out the door; At eighteen, my friend was what you could only call a ‘late bloomer’.

You could call me that too but I didn’t care much. Jogging without a bra hurt more than enough as it was.

“You’re all heart, Yamanaka.” I wiped my own mouth clear while, with just a few words between her and the cashier, our bill was settled. “What do you want?”

"Can't a friend help another friend out of a tight spot? You could really hurt my feelings by acting all suspicious like that, you know?" Ino asked as she spread her hands out in front of her. "But if you want to find something to help me with, I do have something in my room that needs moving around nine."

"Moving." It was my turn to raise a brow. She did so back, looking coy. Cute. "Around nine."

As I'd thought.

"Like you said. We don't know when we're going to be able to spend time together again. We're both going to be busy." She put her hand on mine, purple nails laying themselves next to pink… They were cold, as always. Refreshingly cold. "I just want to hang out while we still have the time."

"Tempting." That wasn't a lie, per se. We both knew what this was. It wasn't as if this was new. It was just that Ino had a libido that never seemed to quit. I appreciated being her first choice but it really cut into my time. "But what about Sasuke?"

"That is that and this is this. I haven't even caught him yet. They aren't the same thing at all." Ino laughed that question off and pat my hand like I hadn't asked it before. I had. It never seemed to stop her. "Stop being such a worrywart, forehead girl. Try and live a little."

"I'd prefer a lot, actually."

Ino leered at me, her shoulder bouncing off of mine one last time before she slid out of our booth. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Sakura."

I didn't bother to answer. That wasn't a promise. That was a statement I should have kept to myself.

If it had been though… I never made ones I didn't keep… Hmm. I guess...

I watched Ino leave, her hips rocking from side-to-side without a care in the world as she skipped through the door; the bandages around her waist and thighs were an odd look, but not a bad one. Not for me.

It mostly made me want to see what was underneath...and that was how I knew that Ino had won our little argument.

I'd been holding something back for a while. For tactical reasons. Also, so that people wouldn’t make fun of me. This new jutsu wasn’t exactly explosive… It might have had a use after all though.

This would get my mind off of Naruto for sure. Him, and his excruciating failure when it came to passing earlier today. There was that. That had been pretty sad.

He’d be fine.

Me? We’d see.