This is a pilot; I have never written a modern fic before so I don't know how this has turned out.

So, as for now, read, enjoy and review! :)

Pairings: Main: ShikaIno, Minor: NejiTen, NaruSaku.

Disclaimer: I have tried to invent product names. If by any chance they do exist, I would like to declare that I don't own them. I also don't own Naruto.

-X-

Fallen Perfection
by Clementive

-X-

Ino Yamanaka could hold the stares from her fallen podium. She could walk in a perfect balanced gait, chin up, her too thin body still obeying her.

But she couldn't hold her own deep blue gaze.

The red light kept her within the reach of her unreadable eyes, her glowing skin. Another version of herself. She tried to duck herself, reaching for her cellphone, hoping for texts from her boyfriend or friends. However, the traffic slowed the bus and she couldn't avoid it. Plastered across the highway, her high cheek bones nagged her past the stench of the bus. She felt her cheeks burning as an old lady pointed at her, a little girl at her side blatantly gawking.

Perfect blond hair, Hair Touch, it read.

"Look, grandmother! It's her!" A whisper, an accusation whipped by her. Her eyes followed the lines of her fallen status; her prominent ribcage, the delicate and deadly presence of her bones beneath her skin.

Perfection or so she thought.

Her stomach grumbled and she wasn't sure anymore.

She pulled her sunglasses down on her nose, pretending to sleep. 'Stupid child,' she thought, crossing her arms over her chest, her loose clothes. Her neighbor shifted in his seat and she rolled her eyes, biting down an impatient snap.

She thought the world would rather be distracted by bombing and detached limbs than her name as a model. Her father's voice had promised, the world would carry on. 'Models fall all the time, honey. Don't worry!' She drank from his reassurance because they weren't ready to admit it out loud. Silence held them together since her mother's death.

They didn't talk, they listened.

They carried on, quickly, quietly so that ghosts wouldn't shake off their dust onto them.

Her stomach hurled. She winced, her hand reaching for the granola bar in her bag. An itch that she was used to overcome.

"Are you going to eat it or not, troublesome woman? Your nails fumbling with it is disturbing my sleep."

She narrowed her eyes at the humanoid form slouched on the seat next to hers. His jacket served as both a pillow and a sunshield. His hands were stained by dark paint and she winkled her nose when her eyes fell on his washed away jeans and his old stained sneakers. 'An artist that one,' she thought and she inwardly rolled her eyes.

"Excuse me? You have been sleeping for hours," she snapped emphasizing on the last word with her hands. "You should wake up, bastard!"

His hands slowly pushed away his jacket and he yawned loudly before focusing his dark orbs on her. Like the rest of his neglected appearance, his black shirt appeared worn. His strong jaw was covered by a faint dark beard and his dark spiky hair was thrown back in a ponytail. Each of his earlobes was pierced by a silver ring that somehow seemed familiar to her.

Somehow, he knocked the breath out of her and his stare made her uneasy. It was as if the strange boy waited for a specific response from her.

"What?"

His eyes turned to ice and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat stretching his long legs.

"You are a troublesome woman," he muttered closing his eyes.

Huffing, the blonde haired woman rolled her blue eyes.

"Why is a troublesome prom Queen travelling by bus to Konoha? Her rich husband couldn't afford the plane?"

"First, lazy bum, I was never a prom Queen. Second, I hate planes," she enumerated coldly reaching for a magazine in her leather purse. "Third, I'm not married." Roughly, she opened her magazine and plastered thinned women nagged her but at least they weren't her. They were fatter, imperfect in so many ways. "Fourth, I'm visiting my father here. Fifth, this is temporary so don't get your hopes up. I may be talking to you now, but I certainly won't tomorrow."

An amused flame burned in his orbs when he opened them again. He leaned forward, drawing a spiky shadow on models and beauty tips.

"Should we bet on that?"

"Bet on what?" she asked distractively as she flipped the page.

"Tomorrow, you will talk to me."

She paused and raised a perfect blond brow at his smirking face.

"Now, why would I do that?"

Lazily, he held up one finger in front of her face.

"First, because you know no one in this town. Being used to receiving constant attention to your troublesome prom Queen face, you will seek a face you already know." Outraged, she opened her mouth but closed it when he held up a second finger mocking her. "Second, there is one mall with 13 shops in this town so the probability of you running into me is high. Third, you will feel the troublesome urge to criticize my wardrobe. Fourth, your father will make you talk to me."

"Hell no!"

He snapped the magazine out of her hands fumbling through it.

"Hell yes. Fifth, you can't keep your big mouth shut for two minutes in a row."

The lazy man dropped the magazine on her laps. Lifeless blue orbs stared up at her. Deidara had shot the pictures for the bikini Pierre collection and by then, he didn't need to retouch her anymore. When they were together, he would touch her body and repeated after each kiss how perfect it was.

"What about me, Deidara? Am I perfect?" She used to ask, her cheeks burning.

"You are that body, Ino. Don't get all poetic on me, hmm. Art is an explosion of beauty not old dead poets."

"And someday, you will want to talk about it, troublesome woman."

His voice was barely a whisper but her blood turned to ice nonetheless. Ino weighed Deidara's words and the stranger's and she couldn't decide to which ones she could hang on. She flipped the pages ignoring his insistent glance.

"Sure, if you want to talk about bikini, we can make an appointment," she said sarcastically not even looking up when the dark haired man grimaced as if she had just slapped him.

Perfection's voice was hunger and it grew louder as the bus accelerated past her magnified face.

Welcome to Konoha, a decaying sign proclaimed on the road.

-X-

She frowned, nipping distractively at her granola bar as she stared down at her empty screen. Still no texts. Maybe Deidara hadn't heard she was out of the hospital yet? Maybe his work kept him busy… The taste of oat turned to acid in her mouth and furtively, her eyes searched for a trash can.

Maybe, she wasn't perfect enough anymore.

"Ino!"

Dust swayed by her, masking the vibrant color of her shoes. Forcing a smile on her lips, she inwardly repeated that it was temporary as she swallowed painfully her last bite. Putting her phone and the rest of her bar back in her purse, the blond haired woman waved back at her father.

"Hi, daddy!"

Inoichi Yamanaka held her without a comment about her weight. When he released her, he bent down for her only bag.

"I thought you would bring more than one bag, sugar," he joked.

She licked her lips avoiding his gaze as she shrugged playfully. 'This is only temporary,' she repeated to herself like a mantra. 'Once I get better, I will go back.'

"Shikamaru! My, I almost didn't recognize you! I hope you aren't growing that beard for real? Where's your old man?"

She stood frozen as the lanky man that had sat with her the entire ride shook hands with her father. His dark eyes shifted to hers and she felt her cheeks burn.

She hadn't recognized him.

There was almost nothing left of the little boy she used to play with.

"Fourth, your father will make you talk to me" Her stomach twisted in an unpleasing knot as a faint smirk brushed up his lips.

When they were children, their fathers' friendship forced them in the same playing ground before they could even learn to talk. They both worked in the police department of interrogation. When they were still children, they used to run around with their fathers' hats on their heads chasing one another until their fathers needed to go to work.

It all came back by flash, thin slivers of memories.

They had been partners of crime, best friends until she began modelling at eleven.

Then, they simply drifted apart.

"Shikamaru," she said uneasily nodding coldly.

"Ino," he greeted her, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Long time no see."

Her father slapped the taller boy on the back unaware of the tension between the two of them.

"I will drive you home, Shikamaru. Do you have a bag?"

"There's no need, mister Yamanaka, my old man will be late as troublesome as he is but he will eventually get here."

"Ah, well if he doesn't, give me a call, alright?"

Lazily, Shikamaru nodded while yawning and they turned away walking towards the police car. Suddenly, Inoichi Yamanaka turned back to the teenager that had remained on his spot waiting for that moment.

"You know what? Tomorrow, why don't you drop by with your father? Like that you the two of you will be able to catch up. I will phone your old man, don't worry."

Their eyes met and she cursed under her breath. 'Always a step ahead, huh, Shikamaru?'

-X-

They drove in silence, the radio filling in the conversation for them. Ino looked out the window, the hunched trees felt both familiar and unfamiliar. From her apartment back in the capital, she could only see the gray urban version of her childhood memories. Tall trees for skyscrapers; one not quite the equivalent of the other; natural perfection against an urban one. The city was all about fights; quick rises and brutal falls.

"I'm a bit short-handed at the flower shop during the month, would you like to help? I will pay you, of course," his father said carefully, his fingers drumming on the wheel.

She knew it was part of the recommendations of the doctors: not to leave her alone but her back stiffened nonetheless. Her work was to model, not dig the ground looking for bulbs and seeds. She bit back her snappy reply when she caught worry creasing his forehead.

"Sure, daddy."

"Great! It would be just like when you were little, Ino! I promise."

She smiled despite the icy knot in her stomach. Her father could lay promises next to promises, but her phone remained quiet. Her enchanted world was carrying on; her friends, her agent even her boyfriend.

She caught a glimpse at herself in the review mirror.

She was pale and hungry.

-X-

Her stomach lurched, the two bites she had taken from her sandwich insufficient to mask her hunger. Yet, the cold chicken tasted too fat, the mayonnaise gagging her with the amount of fat she knew it contained.

It was a constant calculation: the amount of calorie and fat.

Ino held her chin up in the palm of her hand feeling the nervous stare of the delivery boy on her.

She knew she only needed to wait for the right moment.

The earthy humidity of the flowers somehow soothed her. It was an escape that balanced both vices and beauty. She heard the delivery boy closed the door and her elbow accurately pushed her sandwich in the trash can. The door chimed and she didn't even look up. 'That was close,' she thought.

"Yamanaka flower shop, how can I help you?" She said in a bored voice, her manicured nails flipping through a magazine. Quickly, her foot pushed the garbage can deeper under the counter.

"Hey, troublesome woman."

Ino wrinkled her little nose staring blankly at the page she had just turned.

"We didn't really bet, Shikamaru, so you didn't need to drive here to make your point," she said curtly pushing her magazine away. "After all, I will see you tonight."

"Actually, our fathers agreed on tomorrow so that Chouji and his old man could join us."

Sighing, she turned away from him rearranging the roses behind the counter. Chouji joined their little crew later on when he moved in with his family at 8. His father owned the only decent restaurant in town.

"I see. Well, then what do you want?"

The lazy boy pressed his palms on the counter. She noticed hints of light blue paint on his fingers. She couldn't understand what he had become. As they grew up, it became obvious that he was a genius despite his laziness. She thought he would have become rich by inventing some technological tool. She never imagined him as the artist type who would paint to the point of embedding colors in his skin.

"What if I told you I wanted something for my troublesome girlfriend?"

Ino snorted glancing up at him. His dark green shirt was ripped at the rim and his jeans were the same ones he wore yesterday.

"Is that genius talk for: I know I don't have a girlfriend because I dress like a hobo?"

They challenged one another as they used to before falling asleep on the couch when their fathers were still laughing late in the living room.

"Alright, troublesome woman, do you want to hang out with me and my friends?"

She cocked her head on the side, watching him curiously as he nervously drummed his fingers on the counter.

"Now, why would I want that?"

"Sakura is back from med school, troublesome woman, and I thought you would want to see her after all that time."

A vision of her pink haired friend flashed through her mind. Distractedly, she pressed her cool fingers against her temples slowly massaging them.

She was scared of what she would say about her loose clothes and pale skin.

Her nicknamed used to be "Pig" when they were in elementary school. It followed them to high school. But now, it sounded so imperfect in her mind.

The model wished she hadn't eaten those two bites.

"Are you also back from College for the summer?" She asked carefully keeping her face blank.

Ino had chosen modelling over studying and going to College. She had finished high school and packed her things, riding a bus towards the capital instead of heading to the state College. For an absurd reason, she felt for the first time a hint of jealousy at the thought of Sakura receiving her degree in a couple of years.

She felt left behind, useless and hungry; perfection nipping her bones.

The blond haired woman looked down at her manicured hands and wondered for the first time if it had been worth it.

Catwalks and fat free meals almost killed her after all.

"Yeah," he yawned scratching the back of his head. "So at what time do you finish, troublesome woman?"

-X-

I know that Shikamaru is mostly perceived as a future lawyer or businessman in terms of modern alternative universe, but I chose to make him an artist. I will try to make him believable, don't worry.

I hope you have enjoyed it. Feedback is appreciated! :)