If there was one thing Sakura could relate to Shikamaru about, it was watching the sky.

She understood the halcyon feeling one could get, lying in silken locks of grass and staring up at the Earth's seemingly endless dome of fluctuating blues. When she laid there, it was only too easy to forget about Naruto and his silly antics, Sasuke's current missing-nin status and his fraternizing with Sound-nins in some damp old cave God-knows-where, the mountain of paperwork awaiting her at work, and the old-fart-landlord's threats to personally chuck her out the window if she didn't make the rent right on time this month. She felt so carefree; as if nothing had ever existed except herself, the emerald grass tickling her skin, and lovely curtain of puffy white clouds, dancing with the wind for her and only her.

Even if she did prefer the night sky.

Star-watching took the tranquility to extremes. Everyone was laid to rest, the whole town breathing in unison and lost in dreams of their own, and she would wake up in the middle of the night to go down to Training Ground Four and its lovely open fields, finding herself laid in soft fingers of emerald, a slight breeze blowing her hair about, with only the moon and stars to give her company. Each of the stars were someone's guardian angel, she thought, looming protectively over you, and though on some nights you couldn't see them, they were always there. Sometimes, when she was feeling dreamy and moony, she would look for hers, and she would softly smile at a small one that seemed to glow pink.

When she really thought about it, even though she loved her friends, it would be amazing to be alone. She knew that if she was, she would find herself missing human contact a lot, but to be the only one the stars were watching would give her a feeling nothing could compete with. She wouldn't have to deal with her job, or worrying about duck-butt-haired ex-teammates rotting away with the pedophilic snake-sannin in the name of hopeless dreams of power, or retarded potential suitors that never really seemed to get the picture, or anything like that. It would just be her, only her making any sound, which she barely made at all when she was by herself—only her breathing the air, only her moving around, just simply her.

Sometimes, even, she could pretend even she wasn't there, and it was only the moon, the stars, and sometimes, the clouds. She could close her eyes, will herself to become invisible, transparent, and she could feel the wind flowing right through her, not just sliding over her and around her like water.

Laughing at her insanity, she wondered if Shikamaru was this deep.


Happy new year. This is exactly six months old.

(o btw, green tea pocky you. :])