It Was An Accident!

Getting out of this mess was going to be difficult for the Haruno woman. She would have to face the music eventually, but first, she needed some backup. Or, more accurately, a soundboard for facing the horrible social suicide she was about to commit.

Only one person could help her sanely deal with all of this: Ino. Gathering her papers to look like she was on official business, she made her way up to the blonde's office, not even knocking before entering since she could see no one was in there anyway. She bustled in, closed the door, and just stared at her friend. Ino stared back, confused at first, then her face broke into a smirk.

"You look like you just committed social suicide or are about to. Did your mouth say something your brain couldn't stop in front of hot-stuff, or what?" Leave it to Ino to go right to teasing her without missing a beat.

"No. And shut up," the pinkette snarked back, wrinkling her nose and puffing her cheeks out indignantly. She slapped a couple of files down on the desk. "First of all, I'm here with the documentation for warrants for the case, and second, shut up, I have not committed social suicide yet."

"...Yet?" Ino's smirk grew wider.

"Okay. More like. He doesn't know. Yet."

"Know wha—" there was a pause. Silence filled the room, and Ino's face lit up like a light bulb as she figured it out. "No," she said in utter disbelief before bursting into audible, raucous laughter. She was leaned back in her chair, laughing herself to the moon and pointing. All Sakura could do was stand there in total humiliation.

"You... it was him you sent it to by accident?" More guffaws escaped her as she failed to rein herself in. Tears streamed down her face from heavy laughter. Of course, Ino found it funny. Why wouldn't she?

"Yeah, well—stop laughing!" Sakura demanded, her face so red with embarrassment she could feel her ears burning. "I need your help, you cow!" She stomped her foot, looking lost. Her insult only made the blonde laugh harder, holding up a hand so she could catch her breath.

"Okay, okay, okay," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "So... you found out that the number you inadvertently texted was his work number. And he doesn't know yet. And he's also been the world's biggest ass to you most of the day." She laid out... most of what happened.

"Most—well... kind of. Honestly, I don't even know. He... He got straight to business, and he acted like I was wasting his time, but... he was also kind of sweet, too. In this weird... almost constipated way."

Ino raised an eyebrow. "Constipated..?"

"Yeah... I don't know how else to describe it. When we were on the way back, we stopped at a coffee shop, and he just walked in without saying anything. I was so mad, thinking he was just getting his coffee, but he came out with a fresh, warm bagel for me and said he noticed I forgot mine. It was like... for a second that maybe he felt bad that I missed breakfast because he rushed me. And when we were out examining the remains, he caught me when I tripped going uphill." Blowing a raspberry in frustration, the doctor plopped down in one of the chairs.

"I don't know, Ino. I can't read him. And it bothers me."

"Oh, sweetie, that's because you've always been good at reading people. You are weirdly naturally empathetic, and you just haven't figured him out yet. It's your first day. Take a breath. You'll find a soft spot eventually." She winked. "You always do."

Sakura's face softened. "You think so?" She asked warily.

"I know so," Ino replied confidently. "Anyway. Now to figure out your social suicide. He seems like a sensible guy, so he'll know it was a mistake. Just make sure he's nowhere near when you text him, so he can just pretend he deleted the conversation—less chance for awkwardness. Otherwise, you'll talk it out. It was an honest mistake. Besides, didn't he compliment the outfit?"

"Yeah, he did," Sakura confirmed.

"Then you don't have to worry. If he liked it, it could work in your favour." The blonde was back to her mischievous grin again. "Now go back downstairs, play with your guts and flesh and bones to solve a murder, and text him when you're finished. Your head will clear when you play with gross things. It always does."

Sakura's expression and tone turned flat. "Thank you for having such high praise for the work I do," she replied sarcastically. "How motivating."

"Hey. It's gross to me. But someone needs to do the job," Ino replied honestly. "Might as well let the person doing it be a cutie, right? It'll make it so much easier for you when you crack and decide you want to date a hot cop." She winked.

Sakura scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're such a pig," she muttered, standing up from her chair. "Thanks, I guess." Ino waved with a smile. Despite her pain-in-the-ass tendencies, the blonde would always be her best friend.

"Bye, don't sleep with hot stuff and not tell me all the details!" She teased. Sakura made a couple of pig-like snorting noises at her, sticking her tongue out before exiting the office. She could hear the chuckle from her friend just as she closed the door.

Making her way back down to the autopsy area, Sakura began making quick work of the remains she had, using work as a means to distract herself from what she would have to face. She was slowly contemplating what she had to do as she processed and examined each piece they'd catalogued at the scene, using the voice recorder on her phone to take notes during her examination verbally. She could tell whoever had done this was... well, sick. The victim had been tortured relentlessly, dying a slow death from sheer blood loss, followed by having the eyes removed and being thrown off a bridge into the water with attached weights in an attempt to cover things up. She made notes of various fracturing and breaks to the bones, scrapes in the flesh that indicated damage, and even toxicological evidence that some drugging may have been done to make the process easier. A paralytic, more accurately. It was both sad and sickening.

Realizing hours had passed, the pinkette snapped her gloves off and reached for her phone, drawing in a deep breath and opening it to look at the old messages. He'd been so... calm about the situation. Like he knew it was an honest mistake but had no reason to complain. Well, Sakura guessed he'd probably seen better than her in lingerie anyway, she figured; with an appearance like that, she was sure he'd been with a few pretty girls. Prettier than her, probably.

It was time to face the music. She drew in a deep breath and began typing her message, summarizing what she'd found. She wouldn't mention anything about the old messages. Not a word. If the detective asked, then she would talk about it. Otherwise, she'd pretend it never happened. Ever.

She'd finished keying in her message and hit the second button just as she heard the doors open, seeing... none other than the aforementioned detective standing there. He was approaching her, opening his mouth to ask her something... when his phone buzzed.

"One moment," he said, and Sakura felt her stomach drop. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no! That message was likely hers, which meant—he was going to see it! This was precisely what Ino had told her not to let happen!

Social suicide. Absolute social suicide. Sakura hoped she'd just die of embarrassment on the spot. Then she wouldn't have to face the inevitable conversation.

He looked at his phone, reading the message before blinking a few times and scrolling up, then scrolling back down, then up one last time before turning his gaze back on her. He stared, looking her up and down, and--was he blushing, or was she so profoundly in shock she was hallucinating now? The latter. Definitely the latter.

"...oh," he said almost curiously, the corner of his lips tugging at a smirk. "Hmm..." The mix of curiosity and mischievousness in his expression was killing her. All she could do was stand there and stare in total humiliation, incoherent noises coming from her.

This was it. Her life was over. Her chances with him were shot. Ruined. Trampled on. Destroyed. Incinerated. Her shame had cremated her dignity.