AN: Here's my hello to everyone who actually reads the author's notes: Hello! Cookies anyone?

Little bit about the author… This is the first story I've ever posted on fanfiction (hell it's the first story I've ever let others read) so I ask that you're not too hard on me… I'm going to give you a fair warning that the characters might be a bit OOC but just think of it as them maturing? I dunno, I'm going to try to keep them as in character as I possibly can but you know, I'm not perfect :] Hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Naruto and all the characters in Naruto do not belong to me! Pretty obvious… Naruto © MASASHI KISHIMOTO

CH1

Ino Yamanaka could easily be considered the epitome of both splendor and refinement. It was no secret that the young Yamanaka was beautiful: long, silk platinum hair—which she cared to tie back in the messiest way possible—sky blue eyes—that served as deep reservoirs to store her emotions—a flawless, porcelain complexion—only marred by the kanji "daughter" tattooed on the underside of her left wrist (when she married the kanji for "bride" would be tattooed underneath it, and, once she bore her first child, "mother" would follow)—and, to be blunt, a rockin' body. Her appearance did little but leave women seething with jealousy and men's eyes glazed with lust.

Men. They were so simple. So easy to figure out. Ino found that the more effort she put into her appearance, the more men tended to admire her. And that was her problem… Ino liked to be admired. She liked to feel beautiful. She liked getting compliments. She liked to wear lavish dresses (or kimonos) and twist her sheet of platinum into elegant styles. She liked teasing people with something they were not allowed to have… But, like everything else, these things were only liked to an extent.

The reasons for this fondness were not based on ego, but on acknowledgment. Compliments reassured her that she wasn't invisible—reassured her that people noticed her. Sure her preteen and portions of her teenage years were filled with compliments (and she would only stubbornly admit that, yes, she had been a brat during those long years), and the years sixteen and seventeen were filled with grabby hands, but throughout much of her childhood people tended to stay away from her (A/N: I know this isn't accurate but just go with it :P). The avoidance was most likely a case of "cheerleader syndrome" (afraid to talk to [or ask out] someone who is more attractive than you in fear of getting shot down), but, to Ino, it felt like nothing of the sort.

Ino was not, by nature, a silent proper child. However, the constant evasion by her peers, at such a young age, had left her with little but silence and an inferiority complex. This fueled her affection for attention. It was nice to be recognized, even if it was just because of a pretty face.

The interest she received was nice in small dosages (like compliments and such), but lately, the amount of attention she recieved had escalated. The previously instigated "you can look but don't touch" arrangement, between Ino and the village's men, had soon been replaced by "look all you want, touch all you want, just don't sex me up," and she did not care for this new arrangement in the slightest. The "subtle" inappropriate innuendos and advances towards her were not appreciated, but they steady influx never stopped. Now, it seemed, people were more interested in what "goods" she had underneath her clothes, as opposed to what was coming out of her mouth.

Luckily, she was still a virgin, but her escapes—usually consisting of whacking the advancer over the head with something handy—began to get narrower.

If one could not deduce, most young women (Ino included) do not like to be groped in skinny hallways or in empty alleyways. It was odd that most of the men she met tended to think that the way to a pretty woman's heart was by feeling them up. Ashamed of the gaudy actions, Ino decided against telling her parents what was unfolding in her everyday life. She was quite thankful when the family moved, for her father's business, to Konoha. The move allowed for a new start… no one knew who she was, her reputation… or what she was going to look like. As an attempt at stopping the out-of-control touching, Ino forced herself to abandon the one thing that allowed her contact with the rest of the world… her appearance. Ino's personal sense of style (one of the few things she actually took pride in) had to become… dare she think it?… unfashionable. Men were less physically attracted to women who looked unappealing. Less attraction was good. At least in her case—the groping was getting out of hand, and Ino was more than willing to put the "touchy-feely" part of her life behind her.

Tonight, however, was not one of those blessed nights of uninviting clothing. No, tonight she would not be allowed to hide behind overly-large t-shirts, baggy jeans, and messy up-dos—at least not in front of her father's potential business partners.

Ino really had no idea why she was being forced to attend a dinner with her parents, but paid it little thought. It most likely had something to do with "meeting the family"… the business dinners she took part in typically did. However, the "meeting the family" meals she had previously attended, usually took place inside their own home with either her mother or herself cooking the cuisine. Why on earth were they being formal this evening?

Again she paid it little thought. Ino was more concerned with the formality aspect of the occasion. Formality meant she was going to have to wear a kimono, didn't it? And judging by the fact that her mother was rummaging through the back of her closet… yes, yes it did. Ah, whatever. One night wouldn't do much harm, right? And what were the chances that the men they were meeting were perverts?

Despite her former reassurance, Ino found herself fiddling with the hem of one of her violet kimono sleeves, as the two women approached the restaurant. It was ridiculous how much she felt like a walking Barbie doll. Her hair was sleeked into a simple, yet beautiful, oriental style and was adorned with jeweled combs and flowers to add a sense of elegance. The look seemed much too outdated for Ino's tastes, so, while her mother was busy shifting through her kimonos, Ino pulled long bangs out of the up-do to modernize the look. The effect had been just what she was hoping for—her hair was still perfect and beautiful, but she felt more like a person (as opposed to a doll). Ino's mother, on the other hand, did not appreciate her daughter's initiative. But, instead of arguing with the girl to try to force her hair back to the way it was, Ino's mother simply handed off the violet kimono in her grasp.

The females entered the restaurant and sought out their designated table. It wasn't long before a familiar voice beckoned them in the right direction.

"Ah! Here's my jewel." The smile could be heard clearly in Inoichi's voice. He was obviously proud of her beauty—whether it was Ino's or her mother's beauty the world may never know. The women made their way to the table which Inoichi, and his potential business partners, sat. Ino's mother took the open seat next to the left of her husband and Ino sat to his right. Inoichi introduced the two as they took their seats. "Sabaku–san. Allow me to introduce my wife, Ayumiko*, and our lovely daughter, Ino."

Ino bowed her head respectfully at the mention of her name. She felt both pairs of eyes stationed from the other side of the table, flicker in her direction. "Pleasure to meet you," came the curt, yet sincere, reply from the younger, red-haired Sabaku (who appeared to be the same age as herself—no… he was—was he younger than her? His companion or brother [she couldn't tell which] was her age—odd). Ino smiled at the male's obvious discomfort (probably due to the arrival of the two women) then proceeded to tune out what was being said at the dinner table. Such trivial matters, anyways. There was really no need for her to come along other than her father's bragging rights.

Ino ate delicately, and sat silently, which was expected of her. The ever-occurring "sit there and look pretty" job was extremely boring but easy enough that she was allowed to let her mind drift off into it's own little world. A world that was so rudely interrupted when the older Sabaku brought her back. "Ino-san, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the drink bar?"

Ino's light blue eyes flickered to the bar, her father (who offered a short nod—damn!), and then back to the Sabaku. She forced a light smile and rose to her feet. "I'd be honored, Sabaku-san."

The man looked pleased with himself as he too stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. The appendage began a slow descent down her spine and it only stopped when it had come to rest in the small of her back. He pressed lightly leading her towards the bar. Ino resisted the urge to shiver and instead glanced upwards at her escort. He was by no means homely: a spiked brunette, tan skin, dark bottomless eyes, and a well-toned body. Yes, he was most definitely a piece of eye candy. She briefly entertained the thought of what their kids might look like if they were married. And then she was immediately cross with herself for thinking such things.

They took two seats at the counter and ordered their drinks. She had no idea what he had ordered—something that was laced heavily with Tequila—but she much preferred her own virgin martini… she was underage after all. Ino sipped the beverage while half listening to her partner and half glancing back towards her parents. They seemed to be immersed in deep conversation with the red-haired Sabaku—but then they stood up and brushed off their clothes. Thank the heavens! Were they leaving already? Good Lord! This man, though incredibly attractive, seemed to be interested in two things—himself and Ino's breasts—and she was getting immensely tired of his mindless drabble. It really had no basis, honestly, if you were intent on talking, the least you could do was to engage the other party.

Ino glanced back towards her partner whose eye line had fallen into sync with hers. He was staring at Ino's parents who were making their way towards the pair. "Jewel," her father began in a consoling voice, "We are going out for a smoke." Her mother didn't smoke (in fact she rather hated cigarettes, it was yet another trait that the mother and daughter shared), Inoichi, on the other hand, had picked up the nasty trait from a friend.

Ino nodded in response and began to gather up her purse. She snapped it open. Her intentions were to pay for the drink and follow them, but her mother stilled her hand. "Darling, it'll only take a moment. We'll be back shortly."

Of course they would. Noted sarcasm. Ino wasn't dense; she knew what her mother meant by that comment. It was Ayumiko's polite way of saying, "You are going to stay here and talk to this man until he's done. He would make a good—rich—husband. Don't screw this up."

Ino stifled her sigh of annoyance and re-placed her purse, so that it settled back into its original place on the countertop. By the time she turned back around, her parents, and the younger Sabaku, were no longer in sight.

"Hey, Ino-chan. What say we head back to my place?" There was a slight hint of a slur to his words. Not enough that he was unintelligible, or blind drunk, but there was no mistaking the funble for words. He was laced to an extent where the least he could be was buzzed.

Ino didn't respond immediately, and the Sabaku didn't seem to take her hesitation well. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was promptly cut off by the blonde, "You're drunk, Sabaku-san."

Another pause and then a small scoff. "Maybe a little," he agreed leaning in towards her with a lopsided smirk. Ino didn't indulge his advances. Instead, she sipped her drink through pursed lips. This conversation was not heading in a good general direction. The Sabaku leaned forward again, successfully crossing the line of personal boundries.

Ino pulled away in response, and tensed. She turned to look upon the advancing man. "Sabaku-san, really, this is not productive. I don't think my father would consent to your terms if you bed his only daughter."

The Sabaku exhaled sharply through his nose with another smirk. No… bad. She'd seen that expression before and she could openly say that she didn't like the look one bit. "You're worried about your father's deal? Of all things." And she didn't care much for his tone either.

"Sabaku-san, please mind your hands." He had taken to sliding one palm up her leg and rubbing erotic circles with his thumb halfway up her thigh. She tensed immediately and swallowed slightly, gently shoving his hand down her thigh and back towards his ungrateful person. Obviously, the man had never been rejected as his expression hardened when his hand was pulled away from her tantalizing figure.

"Come now, Ino-chan. What is the purpose of coming to a place like this…" he made a general sweeping motion to include the entire bar. "Dressed like that…" he looked her up and down approvingly. "With a guy like me?" She wanted to point out that it wasn't her idea, or simply tell him that she'd rather French kiss a skunk** than be here with him at the moment, but decided against the comments. From experience, she knew a mad drunk typically got physical.

"Sabaku-san," she pleaded raising her hands in attempt to create a barrier between the two.

"Tch." The scoff was barely there, but she didn't miss the noise. He grabbed onto her hands and pulled her towards him, forcefully. Ino made a protesting noise, quieter than she would have liked, and twisted away from him. His response however, was to hold onto her tighter. He pulled her back flush against his chest and mumbled into her ear, "I-no-chan." He enunciated every syllable before turning his nose to her hairline inhaling deeply.

"Sabaku-san." It was an objection, but was mistaken for a sound of pleasure.

"It's Kankuro."

"Sabaku-san, please." Another objection.

"Kankuro-kun. Say it." He demanded harshly biting down on her earlobe for emphasis. Ino screwed her eyes shut and found herself extremely aggravated by her position. His hands held both of hers in place, but that didn't stop the blonde from ceasing her struggles.

"Let me go, please, Sabaku-san." Ino was now trying to adjust her right foot for a proper angle at which she could dig the heel of her… well… heel into his shin. It had also been made acutely aware that they were in public… people were beginning to sater.

"Kankuro-kun." He corrected, yet again. This time he was playing with her pearl stud earring with his teeth.

"Let me go, please—" His tongue traced the shell of her ear. She swallowed what little pride she had left and through gritted teeth completed her sentence. "Kankuro-kun." He ignored the request and instead let his tongue trace her jaw line. Ino squirmed in disgust and without another moment's hesitation, dug her heel into his leg inhaling sharply at his grunt of pain. Both of the Sabaku's hands flew to his shin, which, in the process, released her wrists. Ino, now free, did not see much purpose in staying any longer. She cast him a frightened look before rushing out of the restaurant and sprinting towards home. Or at least, what she hoped to be the direction of her home; she really couldn't tell if she was going the right way or not. What she could tell, however, was that running in heels was not ideal. She kicked off the offending shoes somewhere behind her, and began to gain speed now that she was barefoot.

Despite the foggy state her mind was in, Ino vaguely recalled hearing the word "bitch!" called after her and a clatter of glasses before another figure had sprinted out of the building and began tailing her. Oh, Lord… he was coming now, wasn't he? Ino did not have time to note, that her parents were nowhere to be found (they must have gone out the front doors) as she pushed herself to run harder down the streets of Konoha.

Unfortunately, even without the heels, the Sabaku was faster than her, and he soon had caught up with her grabbing her wrists, yet again, and slamming her into an alley wall. And there was that drunken physical anger she'd warned herself about. Whimpering pathetically, Ino turned her head away from the man before her. She swallowed as, once again, he attacked her neck—though this time with much more than a little anger. He was biting and sucking the pale flesh harshly, leaving angry red hickeys in his wake. Ino struggled making as many protesting noises as she could muster.

"Please, Sabaku-san, enough… stop. Please—just let me go."

He chuckled darkly and latched onto the spot where her jaw and neck met behind her right ear. "Uhn!" The suction was surprisingly painful and Ino was more than thankful when he finally stopped. Her anger, however, flared again when he licked the mark he had made. "Stop it!" This bastard! Who the hell did he think he was! Ino tried to knee him in the crotch but her legs were caught between his own. Instead of stopping, in compliance to her demands, he smashed his lips against hers and began working his tongue through the vice she had created. Like hell was she going to part her lips!

She didn't realize when it had happened, but both of her wrists had somehow been transferred into one of his hands and were currently raised above her head. Oh crap. She felt the violet silk of the kimono sleeves slip down her arms and bunch somewhere around her elbows and shoulders. It seemed that Kankuro did not like the fabric there, and so decided on ripping it to shreds. Then, the brunette used his free hand to loosen the sliver obi around her waist; he was rewarded with more whimpers as the elegant silver fabric fluttered to the ground, dejectedly. The lack of restraint left the outer layer of her kimono with little to do but limply slide open.

Oh shit.

The white bandages around her chest (which Ino had in place of a bra) were visible due to the slipping fabric of the silver inner layer. She felt her face flush, with embarrassment and anger, as his hand slid under the fabric to cup a bandaged breast. Ino had meant to scream, but their lips were still glued together, so the effect gave the Sabaku time to slide his tongue and roam her mouth. He grunted his pleasure and Ino, in disgust, bit down hard on the offending muscle. This was not right! He had to get the hell off of her... NOW! And as though he had heard her thoughts, or it was the fact that his tongue was now bleeding, the man pulled away suddenly. Ino resisted the urge to vomit at the blood he left in her mouth, and instead settled for spitting at her captor's feet.

Kankuro sucked his teeth and followed her lead; he too spat the blood out on the ground. Afterwards, the man turned to look at her with a leering smile. "Feisty." He smirked sliding his hand between the lower folds of the inner layer.

"Stop it—"

A cold hand began to climb and up a bare thigh leaving uncomfortable goosebumps in its wake.

"Please—"

He stopped, inches away from where legs met torso. But instead of halting indefinitely, or going further, Kankuro grabbed onto the silver fabric still clothing her. There was another sickening ripping sound as the silk tore and she was left feeling utterly exposed in front of him.

Pastel blue eyes began mist causing her vision to blur; despite this, it took angry tears spilling down her cheeks before Ino realized she was crying. The Sabaku took no notice of her pain and instead dragged a hand across her stomach…

And then her mind went blank except for thoughts of how she wished he wasn't touching her.

His hand was back on her leg… inner thigh… outer thigh… stomach… breast… collarbone… cheek… stomach… inner thigh—

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing to her! ?"

AN: *Sorry, I don't know Ino's mother's name

** If you know what that is from, free cookies!