Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.80 What is Love?

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The shop was quiet again, save for the faint rustle of flower stems brushing together as Ino moved to rearrange a display. The bouquet she had just crafted sat like a ghost in her mind—a reflection of something she didn't have. She didn't know why it lingered, why the young man's beaming face made her feel so hollow. She didn't know why she was suddenly noticing these things.

Ino's fingers hovered over a set of delicate white lilies before she stopped and placed her hands on the counter, staring out the glass window again. People bustled past, each one consumed by their own lives, their own stories, their own people. A world full of connections, of bonds, of flowers handed off in shaking hands to express words that were too difficult to say.

She hated it. Not the flowers, not the shop, but the quiet moments like these—where there were no customers, no distractions—because that was when her thoughts would creep back in.

Why do you like Sasuke?

Naruto's blunt question echoed through her head again, that familiar frustration bubbling up. She pushed it down, pretending it didn't matter. But it did matter. It mattered because she couldn't escape it, because every time she thought about Sasuke, really thought about him, the words seemed to wedge themselves deeper into her chest.

She shook her head, her hands trembling slightly as she forced herself to focus on the lilies. She adjusted their stems, moving them just so, but her thoughts kept unraveling.

Why do you like Sasuke? Naruto's voice repeated again, but this time, it was her own voice underneath his.

Why do I like Sasuke?

At first, the question annoyed her—like it was an attack, a challenge to her feelings. But the more it repeated, the more it began to shift, to burrow deeper into places she had tried to keep hidden from herself. She wanted to dismiss it, to wave it off like she always did. Because he's strong. Because he's cool. Because he's... he's Sasuke.

But even to herself, the words felt hollow, thin, like paper crumpling under the weight of something heavier.

She leaned over the counter, letting her head rest in her hands, her mind unraveling faster now. The memories began to bubble up—ones she had pushed down for so long.

How long have I even liked him?

Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she saw him in the Academy. Sasuke, quiet and stoic, sitting alone in the back of the room, his hair messy in a way that somehow made him look perfect. Back then, her heart had skipped a beat just looking at him, and she had decided then and there that he was someone worth admiring, someone worth chasing. But why?

Because he looked cool? Because he didn't notice anyone else? Because everyone else liked him, and I wanted to win?

Her chest tightened. The thought felt ugly, bitter, and yet, it rang true in a way that made her stomach turn.

She had told herself over and over again that it was because Sasuke was strong, because he was a prodigy, because he was destined for greatness. But if that was the case, why couldn't she name a single thing about him—beyond his face and his abilities—that she actually liked?

"Ino-chan."

The familiar voice pulled Ino from her spiraling thoughts. She looked up from the counter to see her father, Inoichi, stepping into the shop, the soft chime of the door heralding his arrival. His ever-calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos she felt inside.

"Is it lunchtime already?" she asked, glancing at the clock. It was a routine they had fallen into: she'd take the morning shift, and then head out to join her team while her father managed the shop for a few hours. It amazed her that a man like him—head of the Yamanaka clan, leader of T&I (Konoha's feared Torture and Interrogation unit)—somehow always made time for a little flower shop.

She'd asked him about it once, wondering how he managed to balance so much. His answer had been almost nonchalant: "Clones and good time management, Ino. It's all about priorities."

Inoichi studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes catching something in her expression. "Something on your mind?"

Ino sighed, knowing better than to hide it. Her father had an uncanny ability to see straight through her, no matter how hard she tried to mask her emotions.

"Yeah, a little."

Inoichi didn't press her immediately. Instead, he walked around the shop, casually tending to a row of chrysanthemums. It was his way of inviting her to speak on her own terms, giving her the space she needed.

Finally, he spoke. "You know, I may not be able to read your mind without your permission, but I can still tell when something's eating at you." He gave her a small smile. "Want to talk about it?"

Ino hesitated. She could brush him off, but deep down, she knew her father was someone she could trust. He had a way of framing things that made her feel less... lost.

"It's about Sasuke," she said finally.

Inoichi nodded, as if he had expected this. "Ah, the Uchiha boy. Go on."

She fidgeted with the edge of the counter, her voice quieter now. "I asked myself why I like Sasuke… and I couldn't answer. I thought I could, but when I tried to explain it, nothing felt... real."

Her father turned fully toward her, his gaze thoughtful. "And that bothered you?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's Sasuke. He's... Sasuke. I've liked him for years. But now I'm starting to wonder if I even know why." She sighed, frustrated. "What's wrong with me?"

Inoichi moved to stand beside her, his tone calm and measured. "Nothing is wrong with you, Ino. What you're experiencing is perfectly natural. It's called cognitive dissonance—when your beliefs and your actions don't align, it creates discomfort. You're questioning your feelings because, deep down, part of you realizes they might not be as genuine as you thought."

She looked at him, confused. "So, what, you're saying I don't really like Sasuke?"

"I'm not saying that," Inoichi clarified. "I'm saying it's worth examining why you feel the way you do. Let me ask you this: when you think about Sasuke, what comes to mind first?"

"Uh... he's strong, and cool, and..." Her voice trailed off as she realized she had nothing else to add.

Inoichi nodded knowingly. "Do you think that's enough to build a meaningful connection? Admiration is one thing, but it's not the same as love."

Ino frowned. "But isn't love just... you know, liking someone a lot? Wanting to be with them?"

Her father chuckled softly. "It's more than that, Ino. Love is trust. At its core, it's about relying on someone and letting them rely on you in return. It's about seeing someone for who they truly are—their strengths, their flaws, everything—and choosing to stand by them anyway."

Ino was silent, her mind turning over his words. "But Sasuke's... Sasuke. Everyone likes him. Everyone admires him."

Inoichi's gaze softened. "Do you like him, or do you like the idea of him?"

Her breath caught. The question hit harder than she expected. "I... I don't know," she admitted quietly.

"You know, Ino, I wear a lot of hats in this village. I'm the head of the Yamanaka clan. I run T&I, where I deal with some of the most dangerous minds in Konoha. And yet, I come here to this little flower shop every day. Do you know why?"

"Because of Mom," Ino said without hesitation.

A big smile touched his lips. "That's right. This shop was hers. It's where we met, where we fell in love. She taught me everything I know about flowers. And even after she was gone, I kept it going. Not because I have to, but because I trust her legacy. This shop is a part of her, a part of us. It reminds me of what we built together."

Ino stared at him, her throat tightening. "So... love is just trust?"

"It's one way to look at it, yes. Trust is the foundation—without it, love doesn't last. It's not just about how someone makes you feel; it's about what you've shared, what you've built together. Trust is what holds it all together when the feelings waver, as they sometimes will. So tell me, Ino—have you ever shared that kind of bond with Sasuke?"

She swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Inoichi continued. "I'm not saying your feelings aren't real, Ino. But real love isn't just about what someone looks like or how they make you feel in passing. It's about what you build together, over time."

His words settled over her like a blanket, heavy but warm. For the first time, she began to see her feelings for Sasuke in a different light—not as something magical or inevitable, but as something she had crafted in her own mind, shaped by admiration, competition, and maybe even a little insecurity.

"What brought this on?" Inoichi asked, tilting his head.

"Naruto," she admitted. "He asked me why I liked Sasuke, and it just... messed with my head."

Ino glanced at her father, who was still standing there, pale as a ghost, with that strange constipated look plastered on his face.

"Uh... hello? You there, Dad?" she asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Inoichi didn't respond. His sharp blue eyes, normally so alert, seemed lost in some deep, unsettling thought. Whatever it was, he wasn't about to share it, and Ino wasn't in the mood to wait around.

"Right," she muttered. "Good talk, Dad. Thanks for the advice."

Her father's words hung heavily in her mind: Love is trust. Trust takes time to build, brick by brick.

It sounded so simple when he said it, but as she walked, her thoughts tangled into knots, pulling her back into a question.

Who is Sasuke?

The question hit her again, sharp and cutting, and this time she didn't brush it aside.

Her feet stopped moving, her body rooted to the spot as her mind began unraveling the carefully constructed image of the boy she'd idolized for so long. Sasuke was the Uchiha prodigy. He was strong. Cool. Perfect. But what did that actually mean?

What do I even know about him?

She felt a pang of panic, her chest tightening as the realization hit her. She didn't know Sasuke. Not really. She knew the way he looked, the way he carried himself, the stories everyone told about him—but that was it. She couldn't name a single thing he liked, a single moment they had shared that wasn't just her forcing herself into his orbit.

Her father's voice echoed in her head: Do you like him, or do you like the idea of him?

The more she thought about it, the more her admiration for Sasuke felt like a reflection of her own insecurities. It wasn't about him—it was about her. Her desire to prove something, to be someone, to win at something that didn't even have clear stakes.

Her stomach churned as the truth unraveled before her.

Why did I sacrifice so much for him?

Her thoughts shifted to Sakura, and a wave of guilt crashed over her.

She and Sakura had once been inseparable, two halves of the same whole. They had shared everything—their dreams, their fears, their silly fantasies about white knights and perfect weddings. They had been sisters in all but blood.

And then Sasuke had come between them.

She could still see the moment it happened so clearly, the day they had declared themselves rivals for his affection. It had felt dramatic and important at the time, like they were stepping into some grand story. But looking back now, all she could see was how childish it was.

They had sacrificed their friendship—one of the purest, most meaningful bonds she'd ever had—for what?

What did I even win? she thought bitterly. We gave up everything, and for what? For a boy who barely notices either of us? For someone who wouldn't lift a finger to protect me if I was in danger? For someone who doesn't even smile?

Her chest tightened again, and she felt her throat close up as tears threatened to spill. She blinked them away angrily, refusing to cry over this. Over him.

Her father's words returned to her, steady and grounding: Trust takes time to build. It's about shared experiences, vulnerability, and mutual respect.

Trust. Vulnerability. Respect.

She and Sasuke had none of that.

But she and Sakura had. Once.

The ache in her chest shifted, no longer anger or bitterness but something softer, more painful. Regret. She had thrown away one of the most important bonds in her life—not for love, not even for friendship, but for pride. For competition.

She stared blankly at the flowers in a nearby planter, their vibrant colors muted by the shadows.

Ino's fingers brushed against a stray flower petal, her thoughts softening as she remembered her father's expression when he talked about her mother. That was love—not some fleeting crush or infatuation, but something real, something earned, something built over time.

She wanted that.

She didn't want Sasuke. Not the chase, not the endless competition, not the shallow admiration of someone who didn't even know she existed.

She wanted something real.

Her fingers curled into a fist as a quiet determination settled over her. Maybe Naruto had been right. Maybe it was time to grow up. To stop chasing after ideas and start finding something—or someone—that was real.

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Ino found herself standing in front of the roaring waterfall, the spray of water misting her face. Naruto was still training, relentlessly slicing through the rushing water with bursts of wind chakra.

Minutes ticked by.

"How much stamina does this idiot have?" she muttered under her breath, her foot tapping impatiently.

Ino's gaze drifted to the bank of the waterfall, where Naruto's armor lay discarded, glinting faintly in the sunlight. Her eyes then trailed to him, still cutting relentlessly through the rushing water, his movements precise yet filled with an intensity that made her pause. But what really caught her attention was the broken sword strapped to his belt, tied securely with ninja wires.

It wasn't just a weapon. That much was obvious.

Her brows furrowed as she pieced things together. That sword... It had been at his side every time she'd seen him train. And hadn't Kiba made some snarky comment about it? She couldn't exactly forget Naruto's killer intent.

Her thoughts churned as she watched him. He had changed so much—yet, in some ways, not at all.

Ino glanced back at the sword, then to the armor. Both seemed heavy, not just in the physical sense but emotionally too. Like they carried pieces of him, pieces he didn't talk about but couldn't let go of.

What did he go through?

She tried to evaluate him like her father had taught her—breaking down his behavior, his actions, his emotions.

He wasn't the same boy who had loudly declared he'd be Hokage during every class. That boy had been full of bluster and confidence, but this Naruto... he was different. He was confident, yes, but it came from a place of experience, not blind belief. He didn't talk about his dreams as much anymore—he just worked toward them, quietly, relentlessly.

But there was also a wall.

She could see it now, even as he trained. He pushed himself harder than anyone she knew, but it wasn't just for improvement. It was like he was running from something, or maybe toward it. The way he clung to that broken sword, the way his anger had flared at Kiba's insult—it all pointed to something deeper.

What happened to you, Naruto?

Finally, after twenty grueling minutes, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "Naruto! I want to talk to you!"

Naruto skidded to a stop, his chakra dissipating as he turned to see her.

"Huh? Oh, hey, Ino!"

He jumped toward her with his usual energy, landing in front of her, completely drenched. "What's up?"

Ino hesitated, looking at the ground for a moment before meeting his eyes. "You were right," she said quietly.

"Of course I was. But, uh... about what, exactly?"

"I don't like Sasuke," she said, the words tumbling out of her like thunder, leaving her stunned by the force of them.

Naruto blinked, clearly baffled. "Okay," he said slowly, scratching the back of his head. "When did I say you didn't?"

Ino closed her eyes, bracing herself for some kind of mocking remark, a teasing jab—but it never came.

Instead, she felt herself being pulled into a tight, unexpected hug.

Her eyes flew open in shock as Naruto's wet, muscular frame pressed against her. The water from his training seeped into her clothes, and her cheeks turned scarlet. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the dampness, his strong arms wrapping around her in a gesture so casual it made her ears steam.

"W-what are you doing?!" she stammered, her voice high-pitched as she tried to push him away.

Naruto pulled back slightly, looking genuinely puzzled. "Uh... isn't this what you wanted? You tell me your sad love story, I give you a hug. That's how this works, right?"

"It's not a sad love story," she shot back, crossing her arms indignantly.

"Are you sure about that?"

Ino hesitated before letting out a defeated sigh. "Okay… maybe it is a sad love story."

Naruto grinned as if he'd just won some unspoken argument. Then his eyes caught sight of the cup of ramen she was holding. "Is that for me?"

Ino rolled her eyes but extended the cup toward him. "Yeah, but it's cold now. You took too long."

"Cold ramen's not gonna stop me!" Naruto said confidently, pulling out his pyromancy flame.

Ino stared, wide-eyed. "I don't think that's going to—"

Before she could finish, the cup caught fire. Naruto yelped, flinging the burning ramen into the river.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Ino burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubled over. She laughed so hard she started wheezing, covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment.

"Why are you covering your face?"

"Because my laugh is ugly!" she managed between giggles, her cheeks burning.

"I think it's cute. You shouldn't hide it."

The simplicity of his statement made her freeze, her laughter dying in her throat as her face turned bright red. "Y-you think my laugh is cute?"

"Yeah," Naruto said, as if stating an obvious fact. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Ino looked away, her heart racing. What is with this guy?

After a moment of awkward silence, she cleared her throat. "Naruto… I think I need to apologize to Sakura."

Naruto tilted his head again. "Apologize? For what?"

Ino hesitated but decided to explain. "Sakura and I… we used to be really close. Like sisters. But then we both started liking Sasuke, and things just… fell apart. We've been rivals ever since. And it's my fault."

Naruto frowned, listening intently. He didn't interrupt her, which was rare for him. When she finished, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Can I say something?"

Ino nodded, bracing herself.

"You're an idiot," he said bluntly.

She winced, but she didn't argue. "I know."

"And," Naruto continued, "you should just go talk to Sakura. I think she'd be happy to have her friend back."

Ino hesitated, biting her lip. "But… what if she doesn't want to be friends?"

Naruto shrugged. "Well, then that's her choice. But if I was Sakura, I would probably want my old friend back."

Ino stared at him, his words settling over her like a warm blanket. For all his brashness and lack of tact, Naruto had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Naruto grinned, scratching the back of his head. "No problem! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a waterfall to destroy!"

As he ran back toward the roaring water, Ino couldn't help but smile. Her heart felt lighter, her path clear. Naruto's words echoed in her mind—it was time to fix things.

It was time to rebuild what she had lost.

It was time to get her friend back.

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 39, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!