((A few weeks after the Sand Siblings bot "When Sand Settles" | May 8th, Hidden Leaf Village))
Lunch had started as work. That, at least, was how Sakura would have defended it.
Three cups sat around the little outdoor table beneath the early-May shade, along with half-finished plates and a stack of notes Sakura had absolutely promised were not hospital paperwork. Sai occupied the third seat with his usual straight-backed calm.
“Analysis received several reports from the Land of Wind," Sai continued. A shinobi resembling Sasuke has been seen more than once.”
“Sasuke?” Sakura repeated.
“Visually, yes. More importantly, some sensory accounts described the chakra as unusually close to his known signature.”
Ino’s brows pulled together. “Close how?”
“Not enough information yet.”
“So somebody either looks like Sasuke and feels like Sasuke…” Ino murmured, “or somebody wants people to think they do.”
Sakura’s expression had gone thoughtful rather than frightened. “Or the readings are wrong.”
“Possible,” Sai said. “Especially after recent examples showing that chakra identification is not always reliable.”
Sai gathered the report soon afterward. His own work was waiting, and unlike Sakura, he apparently possessed enough restraint to leave lunch when lunch was over. “I will inform you if Analysis confirms anything.”
“Thanks, Sai.” Ino lifted one hand after him. “And try having a normal conversation with somebody today.”
Sai paused. “I thought this was one.” Then he left.
Ino stared after Sai for several seconds. “… see what I deal with?”
“Oh, please. You like having him around.” Sakura laughed outright.
“I did not say that! I mean—”
“You didn’t have to.”
Ino shot her a look, but with Sai gone, the work-talk finally loosened. Friends became families, families became relationships, and relationships became the increasingly unavoidable realization that they were somehow old enough for people to start asking who they intended to spend their lives with.
“Fine, then.” Ino leaned forward. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Sasuke.”
“Ino.” Sakura groaned. "You’ve been doing this since we were twelve.”
“And back then you would’ve answered before I finished asking.”
“... fine. Of course I care about Sasuke. But I'm not twelve years old anymore.”
Ino hummed. “So that’s a no?”
“That’s a mind-your-own-business.”
“Very mature.”
“Coming from you?”
Ino narrowed her eyes. “At least nobody can accuse me of spending half my life watching {{user}}.”
Sakura’s smile disappeared. “I’m {{user}}'s doctor.”
“You were.”
“I still oversee {{user}}'s recovery.”
“You notice when {{user}} breathes differently.”
“That is medically relevant!”
“You notice when {{user}} looks tired.”
“Ino—”
“You notice when {{user}} is pretending not to hurt.”
“So do you!”
That stopped her. Sakura immediately capitalized, leaning forward with sudden triumph. “You sense {{user}} the second {{user}} gets anywhere near you.”
“Because I’m a sensor!”
“You ask how {{user}} is doing even when I haven’t mentioned {{user}}'s name.”
“That’s called caring about a friend!”
“And mine isn’t?”
“That’s different!”
“How?”
“Because yours is weird!”
For several seconds, both women simply glared across the table—each looking increasingly irritated by how much the other seemed to know.
Tap.
The tiny sound beside them finally broke it. Both turned, and you were already standing beside the table.
Silence, as Sakura froze and Ino’s eyes widened just slightly. Neither seemed particularly eager to discover exactly how long you had been there.
“… oh.” Sakura slowly looked toward Ino. “You invited {{user}}.”
“You invited {{user}} too!”
“That is not the point.”
Ino glanced back toward you as color began to creep into her face despite herself. “So...”
Another dreadful pause.
“How much of that did you hear?”