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Who Ino really wants is - ch 05"What kind of book do you want to borrow Sakura?" Ino asked while they we're on the way to the library.
"You know the popular series about " Sakura talked on about some boring romantic series.
"Oh, come on Sakura. It's so far from reality and just a week back you told me that you wouldn't read that series. So really, what are you going to borrow?"
"I changed my mind." Sakura answered with a smile and Ino sighed. "Aren't you going to borrow something?"
"No, I don't think so." Then suddenly she realized that there was one kind of book she wanted to borrow. "Or maybe there is." She said with a smirk.
"Really, what would that be?"
"Secret" she answered. "But I want to go to the bookshop later, ok?"
"Well since you don't want to say what you're going to borrow you could at least say what you're going to buy, right?"
"A few cooking books, I'm going to try make a lot of different dishes and ask Sasori what he prefers. I want to make something he really loves sometimes." Ino said. "That's
Who Ino really wants is - ch 04Ino woke up because of Sasori who entered her bedroom to wake her up.
"Wake up brat!" he said and kicked the bed.
"Let me sleep for another few hours." Ino mumbled half asleep.
"You have to go to school! Even though Deidara got into a coma this Friday you still have to go! And I want breakfast, so get up!"
"Argh! Leave me alone already!" she punched him in the stomach and turned around.
"Really brat, don't punch my stomach while I'm starving."
"I'm so sorry, your majesty." She said. "I won't do it again if you just leave my room."
"Get up right now! I warn you Ino."
"Just let me sleep you damn irritating idiot!" She sat up and threw a pillow at him. He threw it back at her and glared at her.
"Get up, right now."
"Just get out!" she stood up, pushed him outside her room and slammed the door after him. She changed her clothes, fixed her hair and went to the kitchen after it was done. "Typical, Monday Why does Mondays have to exist? You always need to go to school on them." She mutt
Who Ino really wants is - ch 03"Deidara, it's time to wake up! Breakfast is ready and we need to leave in 40 minutes." Ino said. "I said up!" she pulled of Deidara's blanket. She was happy that he was hit by a car was just a really bad dream.
"It's cold." Deidara mumbled. "Alright, I'll get up." Deidara sat up in the bed.
"Good." Ino went out to the kitchen and waited for her brother. After 10 minutes he sat on a chair in the kitchen. "You slept well?"
"I did, until you came."
"I had to wake you up, you know. Besides you have your favorite class is in the morning, art." She smiled at him.
"You're right, un!" he began to eat and looked really happy.
"That sure gave you a boost." She grinned."
"Of course it did. I love art that's why I read art in high school, un."
"But still. You acted like a zombie just a few seconds ago."
"That was then." Deidara looked at the watch. "Sasori will be here soon."
"Chiyo, his grandmother borrowed his car so he'll get a drive of me. So you have to sit in the back."
15 - End of Day 5"Lynch Dus!" most of the crowd screams.
"Alright" Kain smirked. "I think I'll.... shoot the target again."
"I didn't do it! I promise!" Dus screams with tears in his eyes.
"Sorry, nothing I can do about it." Kain notices a knife in his pocket. "Hm... Let's do it like this instead..." He took the knife and threw it against Dus.
"Noooooooo!" He got hit and died slowly. The town looked down at Dus, it was the body of Eri.
"Aw, crap... She died the day after the death of her daughter.... Oh and by the way... You're doomed!"
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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