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The small, boutique sweet shop is one of her mother’s favorites. It’s tucked away in a lesser known corner of Konoha. Today, it is lined with frilly pink decorations and white rose petals. The shopowner, an elderly woman named Watanabe-san, smiles at Ino and Sakura as she serves them samples of her rich, dark chocolate truffles cut into half-pieces. Ino’s thumb brushes the corner of Sakura’s mouth with familiarity, wiping away the melted chocolate residue. “Ah, thanks,” her best friend says before leaning over to inspect a large box of giri choco on a nearby shelf.
At the counter, Watanabe-san rings up Ino’s order: two bags, one separate bag for Chouji and his enormous appetite, and another containing a casual gift for Shikamaru and a neon pink heart-shaped box of intricately designed honmei choco for the newest member of Team 7. The older woman’s eyebrows raise knowingly as she places the gift delicately in the paper bag. “Thank you, Watanabe-san,” Ino says, feeling a bit embarrassed and intrigued by her own embarrassment. She supposes that this is what love does to a girl.
“Subtle,” Sakura chides as she returns from her corner of the store with the box she had been examining earlier. Her pink-haired companion eyes the bright pink that peeks out of the top of her shopping bag before placing the plain assortment of giri choco on the counter with tiny white bags that Ino presumes she will later wrap the chocolates in individually for her teammates.
“That’s all?” the blonde questions, skeptical.
Sakura pauses. “What? Yeah, I’m done.”
Ino flicks her ponytail with annoyance. “What are you getting for Sasuke-kun?” she presses.
“What do you mean?” her best friend replies with the practiced disinterest of a true kunoichi.
But, of course, she sees right through the apparent display of emotional detachment. “I don’t understand you two,” Ino complains. She places her hands on her wide hips and straightens her back. “Are you not dating?” Sakura blushes in response. “Because,” the blonde adds jokingly, “if you’re not, let me know so I can make my move.” At this, Sakura glares maliciously at the bright pink box.
“We’re not romantically involved. Why would I give Sasuke-kun honmei choco?”
“Or maybe,” Ino continues, enjoying the way Sakura squirms, “you’ve confessed so many times, already. It must be a tiring life for you, Forehead-chan.” She sticks her nose up and watches Sakura deflate out of the corner of her eye.
Slouching visibly, Sakura concedes. “Yeah, you’re right…”
Realizing the impact of her words too late, Ino sighs, and then rolls her eyes at her best friend’s cluelessness. Sasuke and Sakura are surely the epic love story of their generation: a quiet and patient love that persists, a tale of friends to enemies to lovers between two members of the Second Sannin, but whatever. Ino is unimpressed. “Didn’t he give you the key to the Uchiha estate?” Ino asks in an attempt to talk some sense into the girl.
Sakura scoffs. “Platonically.”
“What if I entrust the key to my legendary family estate and clan heritage to the woman who’s been in love with me since our childhood, but only as friends, nothing more -- and forget the fact that my best friend, who calls me brother, does not have a copy.” Ino rolls her eyes a second time. “Oh, please.” A kind chuckle escapes Watanabe-san, who rests her arms on the counter, waiting for the development of Ino’s argument.
“I-- you-- Sas-- ugh,” Sakura sputters, growing red in the face.
“Use your words,” Ino scolds. She hands her a small heart-shaped box wrapped in black silk, tied carefully with a red ribbon.
Defeated, Sakura hands Watanabe-san her payment. “We are not romantically involved,” she mutters under her breath, but Ino hears anyway. She links her arms with Sakura’s as they exit the store.
“We’re not romantically involved,” Ino parrots sarcastically, tugging on a stray lock of Sakura’s hair. “And I know it’s not the right holiday,” she says as her companion opens her mouth to retort, “but do stop by the store and get your dandelion flowers, too.”