Archive of Our Own

A life full of expectations — that was what this provincial town had in store for her. Expectations that, no matter how hard she tried or what she sacrificed, she seemed unable to fulfill. She was never deemed to be quite smart enough, talented enough, or —for heaven's sake— even skinny enough.

Here, everything was moving along as if predestined since the beginning of time. Sons took over the businesses of their fathers or in-laws, daughters worked as secretaries or in sales, or left the businesses to their husbands altogether to take care of the household and children. It was a functioning system for a lot of people from here, maybe even for most. 

But Ino Yamanaka always believed that just because something was working didn't automatically mean it was good. It certainly wasn't for her. According to her father, she had always been stubborn and combative. For a long time she had thought it was a compliment — but apparently, it wasn't.

People often told her she was pretty, which was probably the attribute they found most appealing about her. She was constantly being advised to make something of it.

What did that even mean? What was she expected to do? Were people actually saying she should find a man and take advantage of him? Relying only on her ephemeral beauty to last her a lifetime, hoping it won't fail her? Was this supposed to be ‘the good thing’?

She had little talent for housekeeping, and for now, children seemed more like a test of patience to her than a worthy purpose in life.

People obviously didn't realize that they were advising Ino to lead a life doomed to failure.

How fortunate that Ino had a brain of her own, and she knew how to use it. Better, in fact, than many of the spoiled brats whose profession was best described as “son”, cheating their way through life without much effort. They knew fully well that Daddy would get them out of any trouble and still pass on the business to them.

No one would hand Ino anything on a silver platter. Not that her father was capable of doing so anyway. He was a decent man who took good care of his family, but he had a modest job.

Maybe that was why it mattered so much to him that Ino lived up to society's expectations. He wasn't a bad father, and he loved her. He wanted nothing more than for her future to be secure, and Ino taking risks herself seemed less appealing than making a good match.

Undeterred, Ino had followed her own path. She worked hard, whether at school, during college, or at her job. And now, finally, the day seemed to have come when all her efforts would pay off. 

She had read the letter so many times already that she knew it by heart. She skimmed through the lines again anyway, as if to make sure she hadn't misunderstood its meaning.

Ino had made it on the shortlist for the succession of the vacant manager position. Everything would depend on the final interview and the presentation she was to give to the board of directors tomorrow.

She knew she was good — the best, in fact. Her competition consisted mainly of a bunch of arrogant and overrated top dogs who delegated their work whenever they could. She went to college with some of them or had worked with them already. It made her feel confident that she could outperform any of them with ease.

Apparently, they were all too aware of that. For weeks now, Ino had to put up with the taunts and hostility of her competitors. It was as if she were back in school, where bullies had made her life a daily struggle. Those things never seemed to change. 

Their behavior had transitioned from harmless quips and glares to malicious acts that were bordering on outright violence. Some of her tormentors were downright childish and played tricks on Ino or humiliated her with fake gossip they spread. Others attempted to hurt her more physically by trying to trip her or bumping into her on the stairs.

Lately, they had surpassed themselves and switched to psychological tactics to intimidate her. Ino was almost impressed. She wouldn't have thought these gorillas capable of something so cunning.

Wherever she went, she kept finding things that seemed out of place, in a way that made it clear they had been placed there deliberately.

One time, when she went to her locker after the gym she found a rose in it. It had been snapped in the middle, so it could hardly be mistaken for a romantic gesture. Every thorn had been carefully removed from the stem beforehand, which was obvious because those very thorns were neatly arranged in a pile next to said rose. 

The next day at work, an envelope waited for her at her desk. When she opened it, she found two things inside: a dead butterfly and a handwritten note quoting a poem.

"I've watched you now a full half-hour;

Self-poised upon that yellow flower

And, little Butterfly indeed

I know not if you sleep or feed." 

-William Wordsworth-

What caught her eye was the peculiar handwriting — thin lines, almost delicate and unobtrusive. The meaning of the message was not clear to her, but the effect it had on her was disturbing. 

She would not allow herself to be frightened by those bullies. All that only spurred her on to do better.

Just one person managed to get under her skin. Although not because he hurt her or put obstacles in her way. The pale, quiet young man who worked as the right-hand of the board. Known for his efficient and dedicated work, he preferred to stay in the background. The strange man always seemed to observe her closely. It reminded her of a predator who had chosen its prey. Quietly lurking and observing, registering every weakness and waiting for an opportunity to strike.

There was something threatening about it, as if he could see through her façade and detect all her insecurities without even trying. To be honest, it gave her the creeps.

She looked up from her office desk at the clock. It was already late, and the last of her colleagues had left the building hours ago. Ino was exhausted, and her muscles ached from sitting and staring at the screen for so long. Still, she thought it had been worth it. Her presentation had received the finishing touches it deserved. Nothing would stop her tomorrow. All she could do now was get some sleep and be fit and ready to face the committee.

The night had turned cold, and the streetlights had been on for quite some time already. The thought of her warm, inviting bed spurred her to hurry.

Besides, who likes to be out alone in the dark?

When colors faded to shades of black and grey and nothing looked familiar anymore, it was easy to get a little paranoid. Straining all your senses instead of relying on your eyes also meant paying attention to things you wouldn't have noticed otherwise.

Ino tried to shake off the queasy feeling that had taken hold of her. She dismissed it first as simple nervousness and imagination. But the constant, rhythmic ‘tok tok’ of footsteps didn't cease. 

As she glanced over her shoulder, there was no one to be seen, but her discomfort was enough reason to consider a shortcut. Especially, since her path would have taken her through narrow alleys and deserted streets. 

Hurrying along the path across the old cemetery grounds might sound scary, but it was way shorter and —thanks to the full moon— bright enough and easier to survey.

The huge iron gate squeaked, and Ino pressed her lips together to stifle a hiss. In the silence of the night, the loud noise told anyone nearby exactly where she was heading.

She picked up her pace and listened carefully for any noise. A little later, she heard the treacherous squeaking sound a second time, and she threw caution to the wind and took off running.

As she turned sharply to the right to hurry towards the east exit, she took the opportunity to hide behind an old willow tree. Trying to calm her racing heart, she blocked out the adrenaline-induced roaring in her ears. Everything around her seemed silent, neither an axe murderer sharpening his weapon nor an escaped convict rattling his chains could be heard or seen.

Nevertheless, caution was required. After an additional 5 uneventful minutes did Ino dare to emerge and walked briskly, but much more alert, towards the exit.

The lamps attached to the east gate could be seen in the distance. The sight of them triggering a feeling of relief, and she started to sprint.

Good thing no one could see how cowardly she was behaving. She probably just fulfilled the stereotype of the frightened little blonde down to a T. Some people would certainly like to see that while wearing a patronizing, almost chiding expression on their face.

The thought alone was enough to make her grimly clench her teeth and rush towards her destination with even more resolution and speed. 

It happened without sound or warning, and so Ino felt neither fear nor panic at first. Her breath still caught in her throat when something stopped her abruptly, unyielding, as if she had run straight into a wall. Like she was a neutral observer, she looked down at herself. It took her brain a moment to register what exactly it was that had stopped her. 

An arm as thick as a tree root was wrapped around her waist. Could it be? Was this perhaps a horrible nightmare from which she could wake up at any moment? Being snatched by a zombie in a graveyard seemed like a terrible cliché to her. A distressed sound escaped her.

“Look what we've caught here. A squeaking little piggy.” If this were a Zombie, it would be one with perfect articulation yet incredibly rude manners.

“It's dangerous for a tasty little treat like you to run around at night. Don't you know that there are wolves out here?” Ino recognized that voice, although she certainly preferred she didn't. For a moment, she even wished that it would rather belong to a Zombie instead. 

“What were you doing so late at the company? Do you think you can steal the position from me tomorrow by sucking up and batting your eyelashes?” 

Kuda, the son of one of the chairmen, and a top-class idiot. More muscles than brain, but sadly with even more connections and a squad of equally dull followers. Ino stayed quiet, knowing it would only play into his cards if she took his taunts and engaged in his game. 

“Maybe we should teach her a lesson, Kuda. Show her where she belongs in the food chain.”

Naturally, that coward hadn't come alone. He probably waited here for her, letting his goons herd her right into his arms. How annoying that she had been so naive as to step right into his trap. Once again, that idiot has gotten what he wanted without putting in too much effort. 

The malicious grin that stretched his cheeks looked demonic in the twilight of the night whose coldness originated not only from the outside but had spread to her very core.

“What do you think, little pig? Shall we help you find your place? If you learn something from this, it might save you a lot of trouble in the future, so technically we’re doing you a favor.”

Rough hands dragged Ino away. Although she resisted and held out for an opportunity to escape, she did not give them the satisfaction of desperately struggling to boost her captors' egos. 

The hope-bringing lights of the exit grew smaller with each step and eventually disappeared completely as they turned onto a narrow path. The first impression that hit Ino was that of a haunted house. But as she got closer, she realized that it was the old church building — long unused and neglected— towering above the oldest part of the cemetery.

No one ever went there anymore. Ino felt her stomach drop. That meant her chances of someone coming to her aid and finding her were near zero. 

What were those morons planning to do to her anyway? Waterboarding with holy water? They've seen her in broad daylight, so even those idiots couldn't mistake her for a vampire.

Strangely, they didn't take the main entrance. Instead, they pushed her to the section at the side where some steps led down to the old cellar vault.

The moment it dawned on her what they were up to, Ino threw all caution to the wind. She fought tooth and nail against the firm grip that held her captive. She even got a few good kicks in, and the grunts of pain that were her reward sounded like music to her ears. 

In the end, no matter how hard she fought, she could not prevent another pair of hands from closing around her, presumably leaving bruises. Inevitably, she was dragged through the clammy basement corridor, being carried rather than allowed to walk.

In the scarce light of the few flashlights, Ino could make out the outline of a heavy wooden door at the end of the brick corridor. No doubt that this was the destination the mob was herding her towards.

Two of the guys forced the old, rusty bolt to budge and shoved the door open, accompanied by a loud creaking noise. 

Dust, cobwebs, and the smell of musty books were the first things Ino noticed when she was pushed into the room. She only had a few precious seconds to register the layout before the door slammed shut behind her. The grating sound of the bolt announced to, that the exit had been barred.

With her heart hammering in her ears, Ino had to concentrate to fight her rising panic as Kuda's scornful words sounded muffled through the door.

“That should give you some time to think things through. Don't worry about that interview tomorrow. We got it covered and will even relay your sincerest apologies to the board. As long as you behave, you’ll be let out of your sty afterwards, little pig.”

Their laughter echoed hollowly off the walls, slowly fading as Ino was left alone in the darkness. Eventually, only silence remained.

Alone in this empty void, with nothing to distract her thoughts, the full weight of what had just happened crashed upon her like a tsunami. Her brain struggled to cope. This could not have possibly happened. It had to be a nightmare, that was the only logical explanation. She just had to wake up. People didn't do things like this — ever. Ino needed a moment to clear her head and put her own moral compass aside to understand what had just been done to her.

Her eyes burned with hot tears, slowly began to run down her face and neck, leaving cold streaks in their wake. Tears of disappointment, of helplessness, but more than anything, tears of fury.

How could they do something like that and not be afraid of any consequences? Were they so used to getting away with things? In contrast, she had worked her ass off, played by the stupid rules, and always gave her all — and more. And for what?

What had all her efforts finally led to? Leaving her humiliated and discarded, locked away in dirt and darkness. What a reward.

Angrily, Ino slumped down to the floor. Like a child having a tantrum, she pounded her fists and heels on the ground, kicking wildly. Most of what she hit was empty air and a few of the boxes that were stored here. There wasn't even anything here that was worth destroying.

When the storm of frustration inside her had somewhat subsided, Ino leaned exhausted against one of the boxes, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim streaks of moonlight that fell through the solitary glass pane window.

The window was far too small for her to squeeze through. As if it wanted to mock her, offering her a view of freedom and yet denying it to her.

This thought sparked a new fire in her. If that wasn't the way out, then she would find another one. She would be damned if all she did was sit here doing nothing, waiting for the monsters who had wronged her to mercifully free her again. Ino refused to accept the fate that some ignorant idiots have forced on her. There had to be something here that could help her. 

With a new task in mind, she set to work. Every box was rummaged through, every shelf searched.

Ino could only estimate how long her search had lasted by the moonlight, which seemed to shine a little lower into the room. The night had already progressed considerably, but the adrenaline still pumping through Ino's veins prevented her from feeling any tiredness.

She meticulously inspected every item she found, sorting her findings into two piles: tools and trash.

Expectantly, the trash pile was much larger, but she managed to scrape up at least some things that might be promising. 

It wasn't much, but a whole lot better than nothing: a spoon, a corkscrew, some metal plates, and a dusty blanket. 

The floor of the old cellar was mostly made of clay and dirt. Ino's ultimate plan was to dig her way out. Not under the wall —that would be hopeless— but if she managed to make a small gap under the door, maybe break a piece out of the rotted wood too, she might be able to squeeze through.

The door at the end of the corridor didn’t have a lock as far as she remembered. Anyway, whether she was successful or not, it would be better than sitting idly here and doing nothing. At least being occupied would keep the fear at bay.

She used the rusty corkscrew to loosen the dirt somewhat, giving her a starting point. At first, the scraping with the spoon seemed futile, barely making any difference. But she kept at it, relentlessly removing layer by layer. Never giving up.

“Pig”, they had called her, and it hurt. Especially now that she was digging through dirt like one. But she would not allow herself to feel humiliated. Instead, she would turn that nasty insult into a title. She would be a survivor, not above getting her hands soiled to get what she wanted — what she deserved.

Little by little, she made progress, using the spoon for scraping and the metal plates to shovel the loose ground out of the way. 

The gap would probably have been enough for a cat already; it was a start. Determined, entirely focused on her escape, she continued digging as the night slowly progressed to morning. 

When the ground became too hard to keep digging, she drilled the corkscrew into the old, dry wood at the bottom of the door —over and over— leaving a messy pattern of holes in it.

As the light was about to turn from a frosty silver to a warmer, golden hue, Ino was finally content with her work. So close to the finish line, she dropped her tools and gathered all the strength she had left to repeatedly kick the weakened wood.

When she heard a splintering sound for the first time, she felt so relieved that a sob escaped her.

A few more kicks and she managed to finally get a small piece to come off. Keeping up her efforts, Ino managed to crack the hole further open until she was almost certain it would be big enough. 

The night was almost over, and although it was hard to tell, she had to assume that time was running out. She had to take a chance and try to escape now. 

Wrapping the musty blanket around her as protection from the sharp splinters of the door, Ino lay down on the floor. Head first, she squeezed herself through the gap —agonizingly slow— inch by tiny, little inch.

Her cheeks scraped across the dirty ground, and she was sure her hair collected all the stray clumps of clay like a mop. But she couldn't care less. 

Her shoulders were the next big hurdle. Wiggling and struggling, she forced them through, ignoring the pain of the sharp edges digging in her flesh even through the barrier of the fabric. The thrill of her victory being so palpable was singing in her veins, blocking out any other concern. 

With the additional help of her hands, Ino could work her way forward much faster. As soon as she was able to free her hips, it would be done. So close, almost there.

The corridor in front of her, like a catwalk to freedom, was bathed in twilight and shadows. 

She paused abruptly as one of these shadows suddenly seemed to move. At the very end of the corridor, where the darkness was deepest. 

Her senses must have been playing tricks on her, fatigued, frightened, and fueled only by adrenaline. Maybe it had been a trick of the light — it had to be! She had never before felt so vulnerable in all her life, still trapped under that door, dirty and weak and scared.

But the movement didn't stop — it even came closer. Too big to be an animal, its steps too measured to belong to one of her tormentors. 

The first thing she noticed when the weak morning light hit the figure was a strip of pale skin — like that of a ghost. Did ghosts usually harm people? 

Two breaths later, when the figure stepped into the light, the realization hit her like a blow. It was the creepy, quiet guy she always caught staring at her.

Ino's pulse skyrocketed, her drumming heartbeat almost drowning out his echoing footsteps. She was so stunned her brain refused to cope, blocking out all thoughts of the scenarios of what was possibly about to happen next.

She grabbed a fistful of dirt, what good it would do her she didn't know herself. The most she could hope to achieve would be to throw dirt into his eyes and buy her some precious seconds, which wouldn't be nearly enough time. But at least she would go down swinging.

The young man came closer, his gaze resting on her, almost expressionless. Ino clenched her fist until it began to tremble, the dirt trapped in it slowly compressing into a clump.

He stopped a few steps in front of her, looking down at her in curious assessment. Calculating, as if he were curious about her next move. He slowly crouched, the light now bright enough that Ino could see every expression on his face — not that there was much to see. His face was almost neutral, except for his eyes — dark, unreadable, but strangely fascinating.

Every hair on Ino's body stood on end as if she were electrified. She didn’t dare to breathe, afraid that even the slightest disturbance could tip the mood in one direction or the other. Time seemed to stand still; neither of them moved, their locked eyes the only contact between them.

Finally, as if breaking a spell, he slowly reached into his pocket to retrieve a carefully folded piece of paper. In the manner that someone would use to hand a handkerchief to a distraught kid, he held it out to the still trapped Ino, completely ignoring the compromising position she was in.

With shaking hands, Ino reached for it. Her eyes never straying from his face, as if scared that breaking eye contact for too long would set him loose.

Now forced to shift her focus to the ominous paper, she hastily unfolded it. Her eyes kept darting back to him, as if to assure herself that he wouldn’t pounce. 

The unique handwriting that jumped at her gripped her attention. Shocked, yet captivated, she recognized the spidery, almost calligraphic lines that stretched across the page. Last time it had come with a dead butterfly. The words looked like a work of art in themselves.

It took a second look from Ino to realize that the lines didn't form into simple sentences. They were rather thoughtful words that followed a strangely appealing rhythm, almost like a spell. Again, it was a poem.

“Everything seems stale and empty,

until I notice you walking down the hallway.

Your fair hair blending, almost hurting my eyes.

Your gaze so blue and crystal clear like ice.

You smell like spring even in the bleakest of winters.

When you walk past me, the scent of flowers lingers.

It annoys my senses, it irritates me to my core.

But in a sea of people, it's you that I am looking for. “

Ino scanned the lines a second time, and immediately after that, a third and fourth time.

The first poem seemed so threatening —especially in combination with that weird insect carcass— while this one seemed more like a love confession. How did these two contrasting impressions fit together?

The man in front of her sat there just as quiet and still, showing no signs of embarrassment or any other emotion. 

He was an enigma. Most people probably didn't bother to try and figure him out. In any case, he didn't seem to expect anything. It was as if he had given up fulfilling expectations, but was still trying to express himself in his own special way. 

Putting aside all previous impressions and prejudices, Ino viewed both messages in a new, more neutral light.

The butterfly had freaked her out, but it had also been really pretty. She remembered its unusual blue coloring. If it was meant to be a threat, would he have gone to the trouble of picking out such a special specimen? Perhaps it was intended as a gift instead — despite it being more than just a little morbid and unconventional.

Looking at him from her trapped position, pondering what he was expecting of her, she decided to take a chance. If he wanted to hurt her, he had already passed up ample opportunity to do so. That he was patently waiting could also be meant as a test. Maybe it was an experiment to see what she would make out of that most ridiculous of all situations. 

Ino wasn't a lab rat, though. But she had become curious about that strange person who didn't seem to follow standard social rules. On top of that, she still needed to hurry. So it was time to turn the tables and take the lead. Let's see what happened if she poked him with a question for a change. Would she fail? Or would he?

“Was that fucked-up rose also your idea?” No intro, no ‘hi’, no fake pleasantries. Something told her he wouldn't be one to dance the social tango. 

The slow grin that ghosted across his lips confirmed he enjoyed her bluntness. 

“Did you like it?” There was something so interesting about his voice — calm, melodic, and hypnotizing. Not that Ino would let that show.

“Well, I would, if it hadn't been destroyed. Why did you rip off its thorns anyway?”

“So they wouldn't hurt you, of course.”

“But then, you laid them in my locker too.” His only answer was a small nod. She mulled that reaction over in her head. OK, it had been a statement rather than a question, so this one was on her.

“Why?” She added, with a little more bite than necessary.

“Because they belong to the flower. They're part of it.” Fair enough.

“And what was the reason you broke the stem?” That was the part that had disturbed her the most back then. 

The pale man shrugged his shoulders. “It just snapped when I carried it in my sports bag. But it wasn't a big deal. A little flaw didn't make the rose any less beautiful.”

An avalanche of thoughts was launched in Ino's mind. He was right in some way. The rose was still brilliantly blooming, the intricate pattern of the petals like a piece of art. 

The concept of valuing something, even if it didn't meet certain standards, stumped her. She was so accustomed to being discarded and looked down upon for the slightest infraction that the only thing she noticed when she saw that gift was its defects.

Ino felt shame flush her cheeks. This was how people had treated her all her life, yet she was unable to refrain from that behavior herself. He had chosen a different approach, as if that was the natural thing. 

What an admirable trait for an intriguing man. She didn't even know his name. 

“I'm Ino,” she said, as if he didn't know already. He merely smiled at her. 

Rolling her eyes, because once again she had expected him to act on a prompt instead of a straight forward question.

“I'd really like to know your name too, can you tell me?”

“Sai.” 

Short, concise, memorable — Ino would remember this name. A simple name for a complex character; this antonym had something going for it.

Before she could decide how much more of that man she'd like to know better, she first needed to solve the slight problem of her still being trapped.

“So, Sai, did it ever occur to you to help me get out of here?” Her question didn’t seem to stir anything in him, leaving him totally unbothered.

“It did, but I thought you deserved the chance to fight your own battle. Otherwise, it would have been cheating, don’t you think?”

Did he really just say that? She had to let that sink in first.

The nerve he had! How long had he been sitting here anyway, listening and watching her struggle?

As though he had sensed what was puzzling her, he spoke to her without being prompted, for the first time.

“I have to admit, I was halfway to the door, about to open it. But it was too fascinating to witness your determination to complete this task. You deserved an opportunity to prove yourself. Guess I wanted to know if you could actually do it. Congratulations, by the way.”

With a sour expression, Ino half growled, half sneered her next words. 

"So what? Have I passed your ridiculous test then? Would it be too much for me to humbly ask for you to finally stoop so low as to give me a hand? Or do you plan to keep watching me squirm in the dirt like a worm?” The sarcasm flew right over his head.

“If you prefer that. I wouldn't want to spoil —”

A handful of dirt hit him straight in the face.

“Stop wasting time and get on with it!” 

Any fear or caution she had felt toward this eccentric man had vanished. Although his behavior was unusual, it was straightforward and honest. She could not detect a hint of malice or dishonesty in him. He simply did not disguise himself to please others — and wasn't that exactly what she herself had been aiming for all her life?

As if he had only been waiting for her permission, Sai stood up. He opened the bolt that was barring the door. Since opening it wasn't an option while Ino was trapped underneath, he lifted the door off its hinges with a skilled grip and some leverage.

Almost in sync with his movement, Ino got to her feet. Sai's outstretched hand came a little too late, but she made a note of the chivalrous gesture for later reference. Not much good had come of that night, so small gestures of kindness meant all the more.

Ino smiled at him, simply out of the need to show him some appreciation. Even though she might seem ungrateful, she couldn't linger here any longer, not when everything was at stake for her. Maybe she still had a chance. 

“What time is it?” Assuming the morning was still young, she could still manage to clean up and change. If she called a taxi in advance that was waiting for her, she could be at the company in no time.

Without a word, Sai held out his wrist for her to check his watch. Ino's heart sank. The glowing digits of his digital watch blurred before her eyes, and only when a sniffle escaped her did she realize that tears were responsible for her blurry vision. 

It had all been in vain. All her desperate attempts, her determination, and the humiliation of crawling through the dirt. 

“Are you hurt? You're crying.”

‘No shit, Sherlock.’

The meeting was about to begin in not even 10 minutes. There was no way she could get there in time and not look like a lunatic. Disappointment and exhaustion were coiling tight in the pit of her stomach, looking for an outlet as to not let her implode. 

“Damn right, I'm crying! Stop pretending to care about how I feel. If you had just let me out instead of following some weirdly wired moral compass of yours…”

“... then you wouldn't be storming into that meeting half as fierce as you are now.”

“You Idiot, no one is storming anywhere! Don't you have eyes? I look like a laughing stock, no one will take me the slightest bit serious if I show up like that!”

Again, this infuriating shrug of his. It made her want to punch him. “You don't know that until you try, do you? I can’t believe that the woman who literally dug her way out of an impossible situation is chickening out 5 minutes before the finish line. Just because she is scared to show up with a messy hairstyle and some smudged clothes.”

“What planet are you from? Don't you get it? Appearances are everything!” Why wouldn’t he understand? And what was that new expression that flickered across his face? Disappointment?

“My bad. I thought you wanted to prove that you were more than just a pretty face.”

Ino couldn't have been snapped out of her tantrum more abruptly. Like a cat that was suddenly hit in the face with a spray of water.

It was, in fact, a really shallow point of view. And he had pointed that out so bluntly that she felt caught.

Ino looked down at herself. This was a bit more than just not wearing makeup, though. 

There was dirt embedded in every crack of her hand, under every fingernail. Her skin was scraped, bruised and smeared with a mix of blood and dirt. She didn't have a mirror, but judging by the burning sensation on her cheek, her face didn't fare any better. 

But what were the alternatives? She could go home, have a good cry in the shower, then crawl into bed and hide from the world under her comfy blanket with the cute daisy print. The one that has been her favorite since childhood. The consequences would be an angry call from her bosses, scolding her for being ungrateful and wasting a once in a lifetime opportunity. Maybe they would be furious enough to even demote her. There would be nothing that she could do about it.

Or she could just show up as she was, ignore their shocked faces, and at least hit them with the presentation she had worked so hard on over the past few months — and after that, she would most likely be labeled insane and be demoted anyway.

Two golden alternatives, but one of them would at least allow her to still look at herself in the mirror. In the end, you can only regret the chances you didn't take.

“So, Mr Weirdo, you want to see how I make a fool of myself? Then you better make yourself useful and get me to the company ASAP.”

Her voice sounded way stronger than she actually felt. But when suddenly a beaming grin appeared on Sai's pale face, it made her involuntarily answer it with one of her own fierce smiles. It was a bit silly, but making him proud made her feel really happy.

The butterflies in her stomach might have been nerves or excitement. Either way, she had nothing to lose now, and there better be no one dumb enough to stand in her way.

Both of them stormed out of the building, neither looking back. The door at the end of the corridor was no obstacle at all, almost carelessly pushed open. None of those idiots had bothered to lock it. Who would have thought her capable of getting this far, right? Regardless of how it all turned out, she would not wait for her tormentors to find her —crying and frightened in the dark— like they hoped to. Ino was already looking forward to seeing their arrogant grins melt off their faces.

In broad daylight, the path through the cemetery was much easier to find. Somewhat disrespectfully, but due to their haste, they even took a shortcut or two, dashing between the gravestones. The dead would understand that the living had urgent matters to attend to.

When she arrived at the parking lot, to which she had followed Sai, Ino looked around expectantly. She couldn't see a car anywhere, though. But after everything she had been through, she didn't bat an eyelid when Sai waved her over to a rather old, rusty bicycle, urging her to hurry. It did have a luggage rack, after all.

Without hesitation, she climbed on and clung tightly to him. Not wasting another second, he stepped on the pedals and sped down the road with her. The wind was still biting cold so early in the morning, and the fog lay damp on the path, but Ino felt more alive than ever.

Like an euphoric teenager, she stretched one hand out into the wind as if she wanted to feel the speed with her palm. Loudly cheering and without restraint, Ino celebrated the pure joy that this crazy ride with an even crazier man brought her.

No one was to be seen on the streets, but even if someone had witnessed her uncharacteristic outburst, she couldn't have cared less. 

Fate suddenly had its own unstoppable rhythm; the wheels of events seemed to interlock, one step automatically leading to the next. In one fluid motion, she slid off the bike before it came to a stop and almost flew through the immaculate lobby. Subconsciously, she noticed her filthy shoes clicking across the polished marble floor, presumably leaving muddy tracks in her wake. 

The horrified looks of those present followed her. Ino saw how the receptionist had already picked up the phone. She stopped when recognition flashed in her eyes and the realization hit that the crazy woman rushing past her was ’that dutiful girl’.

Caught up in her own momentum, Ino couldn't bear to wait for the elevator. She flew through the stairwell, taking two steps at a time.

Arriving on the fourth floor, she rushed at full speed toward the door of the large conference room, only stopping when she reached the large double doors behind which her professional future awaited.

The gravity of the situation seemed to have caught up with her again and welded her feet to the ground. Panic tightened her throat and rendered her paralyzed. 

But before she could be overwhelmed by her fears, she felt a warm hand on her back — not pushing or demanding, yet offering support. Ino looked back over her shoulder one last time at Sai's face, which was full of approval and admiration. As if that was all it took to loosen her shackles, she pushed open the door and strode into the room as if it belonged to her.

Instantly, all eyes were on her. Any belle of the ball would have turned green with envy at all the attention, even though those glances were certainly not directed at Ino due to her stunning beauty.

She immediately spotted Kuda's face among all the big shots at the table. His skin had taken on an unhealthy greenish hue. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. And like a vengeful spirit, she planned to come down on him.

Wearing her most charming smile, she addressed the room.

“Gentlemen, I hope I haven't missed too much. I was obviously delayed, but let's not dwell on things we can't change. If someone would be so kind as to open my presentation from the cloud, I'm sure I'll be able to draw your attention to something much more pleasant than my appearance, namely, the opportunity to make the deal of a lifetime. That should put me in a much better light, don't you think?” 

With a practiced flirtatious wink, which had already succeeded in shifting the mood in her favor on numerous occasions, Ino elicited the first hesitant laughs. She understood how to win over an audience. 

How she had mastered the next hour and what speech she had given, Ino couldn't possibly recall later. Yet every word and every gesture resonated with passion and confidence. No more pretense, no more games, only her conviction, which she laid bare for all to see. 

As her last words faded in the meanwhile silent room, it was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. What happened next was out of her hands — the outcome no longer as important as it had been an hour ago. She felt proud of herself for having overcome so many obstacles, for having found strength she didn't know she even possessed. She had also gained an unlikely ally that —for a change— accepted, even liked her, the way she was.

No matter the outcome, she felt like a true winner. 

A humiliated Kuda, who stormed out of the room, just hammered that point home. 

Calm and tired, the exhaustion finally catching up to her, she gathered her leftover handouts that had been printed for her on the spot. 

“I'll leave you to your thoughts, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me,” she said while she absentmindedly picked off a crusty bit of mud that was stuck in her hair. “I have to meet someone important.”

Without a backward glance, she walked out, not waiting for her audience's final verdict. There he stood, as if carved in stone, patiently waiting for her, unjudging, whether she succeeded or not. 

“Well done. You look very pleased,” he noted.

“I am,” she confirmed with a tired smile.

“Shall we wait for their answer together?” 

Ino looked at the man who had gained a new significance for her over the course of the night. Sai had believed in her and helped her break out of the cage of superficiality without asking for anything in return. There was more to him than met the eye, and he had shown her that her potential was limited not by others but only by herself. 

“You know what?” She said, extending a hand for him to hold. “Who cares what they think? I'd rather go get breakfast with you. From now on, in a sea of people, it will always be you that I am looking for.”