Title: Violin
Series: Naruto
Author: Miali
Summary: Every ninja has a little bit of insanity that slowly takes hold, and many have ways of fighting it. Some handle it differently than others. Shikamaru-centric
A/N: Another fic from the list, this time number 22: Violin. This one is dedicated to my dear friend, black-n-white-stockings for her support (and for picking the number from the list) I'm sure she'll be quite happy with the character choice.
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Shikamaru lazed on his bed, staring up at the plaster ceiling, his eyes gazing past the swirls into something that no bloodline limit could see. His arms were folded behind his head and his legs rested out before him, ankles crossed. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see it, the object of his current thoughts.
"Troublesome," he muttered as his mind wandered through the progression of receiving the object, a gift from the most troublesome of all: his mother.
He turned his full attention to the thing, his dark eyes taking in all of the details. The shining polished wood, the soft wrinkle of the deep black fabric in the case, the gleam of the strings. And finally, the lesson book beside it.
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"Shikamaru!" His mother had called, interrupting him from his daily cloud-watching session with his team, "Shikamaru, come in here this instant!" With a small mutter about troublesome women, the lazy genius shifted slightly, moving Ino's head from his lap as he sat up from leaning against Chouji.
"I'll be right back, you guys." He had murmured before walking into his house to face his mother.
"Here." She had handed him a black leather case in a curvaceous shape, "You start lessons next Wednesday, unless you would prefer to study alone." The genius had raised an eyebrow at the case, wondering as to why she had chosen now to force such an odd hobby on him. He looked up at his mother's face and everything had clicked into place. Now that he was a chuunin, she was more afraid of losing him to the insanity of being a shinobi, so she had given him some shred of humanity to hang on to. He nodded to her.
"I'll study on my own." He set the case on the table and walked back outside to rejoin his friends.
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It was dark now, his teammates left shortly after the sun had set. The dark-haired chuunin sat on his bed and stared at the instrument. The artificial light in the room cast an eerie shine upon the wood.
"Tch." Calloused fingers brushed against smooth wood and metal strings as he placed the instrument in the crook of his neck and brought the bow slowly across the strings. Picking up his book, he soon had the instrument tuned and he began to pick out notes, which slowly changed their way into song.
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Shikamaru arrived home late from training, bruised and battered he made his way up the stairs to his room. Tossing his jounin's vest onto the bed, he walked across the room to a worn case upon the floor. Opening the latch, he withdrew the instrument and placed it under his chin. Drawing the bow across the strings, nimble fingers played out his regrets, anxieties, fears, and the insanity that haunted every ninja. As the night reached its deepest hours, he placed the violin back into its case.
Thank you, troublesome woman.
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I don't like this one much, I may rewrite it later to make it a bit stronger. Comments are always enjoyed:D