I don't own Naruto

Outside of Intensive Care Room Six

Outside of Intensive Care Room 6, in the Konoha Hospital, sat two people. One was a teenage girl. She was sitting up straight on one of the two benches, fiddling with the ends of her long blond hair. Her blue eyes were staring at her knees, although every few seconds they would flit up to the luminous sign and the red light bulb above the large double doors of the room. Every time she saw the bulb and its dark, unlit interior, she thanked all the gods in heaven that it was not still shining. The fact that the bulb was dull and not casting its ominous red beams into the hallway told Ino that her friend would be all right. For now.

The other occupant of the hall was a large man with red hair who sat across from the blond on the other bench. He was leaning forward with his face in his hands, lost in his own thoughts, which also revolved around the room underneath the red bulb and the boy inside. Chouji. His son. Chouji Akimichi.

How close his boy had come to dying, Choza did not exactly know. All that he was sure about was that his son had set off on an A-Rank mission with four other boys in order to retrieve Sasuke Uchiha. What had happened while on that mission, again, Choza wasn't sure. All that he did know was that all five of the retrievers had returned, all alive but all injured and two of them in critical condition. One was the Hyuuga boy. The other was Chouji.

Choza, upon hearing of his son's peril, had rushed to the hospital and was forced to endure three long hours of not knowing whether his son would pull through or not. But in the end, the Fifth Hokage had emerged from the room and proclaimed Chouji stable.

Now, he and one of Chouji's teammates, Ino Yamanaka, daughter of his former teammate Inoichi, were waiting until Chouji was allowed visitors.

They sat there in silence, after Choza had explained to Ino the situation when she first arrived. How long they waited, neither one knew. They simply sat there. Waiting. Anxious. Relieved. Thankful. Impatient. Then anxious again. An endless cycle of emotions that made its way through the two, never ceasing.

Eventually, the cycle was broken by a set of footsteps.

Ino's heart raced and her head popped up, hoping that it would be a medical ninja, coming to tell them that it was okay to see Chouji. Choza was hoping the same thing. But they were wrong. Instead of a tall, clean, authoritative ninja bearing good news and a clipboard, the footsteps belonged to a short, dirty, and miserable teenage boy. His new chunin vest was spattered with dirt and blood, as was the rest of him. A finger on his left hand was bandaged with a splint. His dark head was bent and he walked with his eyes on the floor, a defeated and melancholy manor about him.

When the boy sensed that there were other people there, he looked up. His face, too, was dirty, except for several clear streaks that ran down his cheeks from a pair of slightly red-rimmed eyes. Their dark interiors widened at the sight of the two people seated in front of him.

Ino slowly stood up, her own eyes widening. "Shikamaru…," she breathed, taking a step toward him. "Shika, are you-."

"Can we see him?" Shikamaru's voice came out more hoarse than usual, and it sounded strained. His dark eyes sought out Ino's blue ones, and when they met, Ino was plunged into their depths and completely submerged in a sea of Shikamaru's raging emotions.

On the outside, Ino saw their usual indifference. He was a squad leader looking after one of his subordinates. But the further into those eyes Ino looked, the more she saw. The anxiety of a friend for a friend. The pain of having failed a mission, of having all of your teammates injured, two on the brink of death. The anger at yourself for letting it all happen. The resolve to do better, to make sure it never happened again. The haunted look of a battle savvy ninja. The underlying guilt of knowing you left your friend to almost certain death. And underneath all that, in the very center, Ino saw a kind of pleading. A desperateness to hear kind and reassuring words. To know that it would all be all right. That Chouji would live, that he and Ino and Shikamaru would go back to their normal lives, and that, despite all the bad, everything would turn out good in the end.

Those eyes tore Ino's heart into little tiny shreds. In two steps, she closed the gap between them and hugged the desperate boy before her. In her eyes, he was no longer a chunin. He was no longer a squad leader. He was no longer a ninja. He was a boy, just a boy, who needed someone to comfort him, who needed someone else to be in charge. Someone to tell him what to do, instead of making decisions himself. And Ino was there to do it.

At first, Shikamaru didn't react to Ino's movement. He stood there, stiff with shock, eyes staring into space. Then, slowly, it dawned on him that someone was holding him. He looked down slightly and, seeing the blond hair, realized that it was Ino. She had her arms wrapped around him, was patting his back and speaking softly. Just as his mother had done when he was little, when he had cried.

And then Shikamaru realized that, for the second time in an hour, he was crying. Even as the thought came to him, he the tears were falling hot and fast down his cheeks. His eyes were leaking yet again. And in front of a woman, too. Troublesome…

With a grunt, he reached up and wiped them away, but more water quickly took its place. About to wipe the tears away again, he was stopped. Ino gently pulled the dirty hand away and, meeting his eyes, said, "He'll be okay, Shika. You don't need to worry any more. You can cry."

At these words, the tears came all the faster, and after a moment, Shika gave in. He let his hand fall limply to his side and rested his dark, troubled head on Ino's shoulder. And he cried.

Choza, watching his old teammates' children, felt tears prick at his own eyes. He blinked furiously, trying to clear them. He looked away from the two, searching for something to distract him. Anything to divert his attention.

It arrived with a clicking of heels and a clipboard.

"Excuse me," the medic nin, who Choza vaguely recognized from one of his many hospital visits, came out of Intensive Care Room 6 and took a few steps toward the three. Shikamaru and Ino moved apart quickly, Shika wiping his eyes hastily on his arm. Ino turned her head away from her teammate, concealing her face.

The medic nin glanced at them and said, "Are you waiting to see Chouji Akimichi?"

All three nodded.

"He's just come too. He'll probably fall asleep again in a few minutes, but there's time for him to see one of you." The medic looked first at Ino, who shook her head slightly. The woman's eyes moved to Choza, who also shook his head. Shikamaru looked confused. He opened his mouth to say something, but Chouji's father beat him to it.

"You go, Shikamaru." The man met the boy's eyes, making it clear he was serious. You deserve it. And need it.

Shikamaru hesitated. He stared at the door with wide eyes, looking unsure. Ino gave him a small push. The medic nin opened one of the doors wider, smiling at Shikamaru as he slowly walked past her. She closed the door behind the chunin, nodded to Choza and Ino, and walked away, heels clicking on the tile.

As soon as the door closed on her comrade, Ino sank back onto her bench. The sobs she had repressed before now came out in full strength. She wrapped her arms around herself as the tears came, trickling down her face, as she cried and cried. She cried for Sasuke, she cried for Neji, she cried for Kiba and Naruto. She cried for Choza, for Chouji, for herself. And lastly, she cried for Shikamaru. For her best friend, recently turned her crush, even more recently turned her love. For the boy who loved to watch clouds and eat potato chips with his two best friends. For the boy who was sent on a mission to rescue someone who didn't want to be rescued. For the boy who had to, one by one, leave his friends and teammates in almost certain doom. For the boy she had grown up with and had never seen cry once, and whose tears now left a damp spot on her shoulder.

Shikamaru stopped two paces inside the doors. He felt the slight gush of air as they swung close behind him, leaving the two boys alone in the room. The chunin's already wide eyes grew even wider at the sight before him.

Chouji was thinner than Shika had ever seen him, thinner than Shika had thought an Akimichi could get, and this astounding change in the boy frightened him. He looked almost like a skeleton. A skeleton with skin, who was also hooked up to many wires and cables, including a heart monitor that filled the otherwise silent room with a steady beep…beep…beep…beep.

Chouji's eyes were closed as Shikamaru walked slowly towards the bed upon which the poisoned boy lay. Every move he made sounded too loud, too intrusive. A death had almost occurred here, followed by a miracle. He felt as though he were trespassing on holy ground.

A foot from the bed, Shikamaru stopped. His breath was labored and he had to fight very hard not to call out his friend's name in desperation, to shake Chouji's shoulders and yell, begging him to wake up! Wake up and calm the sea inside Shikamaru that was driving him mad. Sit up and tell Shikamaru in that familiar voice that he was fine. He was just a bit tired. No need to worry, he'd be out of bed in no time. Just a few more days. But he didn't. Shika bit his lower lip and waited.

After a moment, Chouji opened his eyes. Shikamaru held his breath while Chouji looked around the room, then at last turned to Shikamaru.

For a minute, neither one spoke. Shika did not mention Chouji's skeletal appearance. He did not mention how much destruction Chouji's attacks had caused, nor the shape that Jiroubou's body had been found in. He did not mention how impressed he was at Chouji's display of power. He did not mention that it had been his family's medicine that had healed Chouji, nor the fact that Chouji had been so close to dying. He did not mention the immeasurable swell of pride he felt for his best friend. He did not say a word.

Chouji did not mention the anger he had felt at Jiroubou after he insulted Shikamaru's leadership abilities. He did not mention the pain his special pills had caused him, or the pain he still felt. He did not mention the satisfaction he had felt as Jiroubou's life left his body, nor the exhaustion he himself had experience after. He did not mention the pride he felt in himself. He did not mention that Shikamaru had gotten everyone back alive, except for Sasuke. He did not mention his own condition now. He did not mention the tear stains on Shikamaru's cheeks. He kept his thoughts to himself.

Beep…beep…beep…beep…

Finally, the dark haired boy opened his mouth and said, in a voice that felt underused, "You really are the best, Chouji."

Chouji smiled slightly, the spirals on his cheeks shifting, and said, "Thanks. You're not too bad yourself."

Shika's mouth twisted into his usual wry smile. "Thanks."

Chouji's grin widened. Then he yawned widely and his eyelids began to flutter.

As Shikamaru watched his best friend struggle against sleep, he thought, Thank you, Chouji. And I mean it. You're the best friend a ninja could have. You're too good to be wasted on a lazy ass like me. Thank you.

Shika touched his hand lightly to the bed rail and said, "Get better quickly, Chouji. I want you for my next mission."

On the brink of sleep, eyes already shut, Chouji mumbled, "Of course. Give me a few days and I'll be…outta…here…" And he started to snore, a happy smile on his gaunt face.

Shika waited a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. Pushing open the doors, he walked, hands in pockets. Past Ino and Choza, past the nurse returning with her clipboard, past the room containing Neji, outside of which sat Gai, Tenten, and Lee; past medic ninja and nurses scurrying in every which direction, past the front desk and out into the fresh air. His feet walked the oh-so-familiar path through the maze of streets and buildings that was the Village Hidden in the Leaves and up to the top of his favorite hill. Settling himself down in the roots of his favorite tree, he leaned back against the worn-out bark of the trunk.

He let out a deep sigh, and with that exhale of air went all the worries he had born since Tsunade first assigned him the mission to retrieve Sasuke. Once again, he was just himself. Not a leader in charge of the lives of others, nor bringing back a runaway ninja. No decisions to be made, no battles to be fought. He was Shikamaru Nara, inside and out, and he was happy. And, he realized with a yawn, tired. He felt his eyelids begin to droop and soon, he drifted off into an unconscious sleep. He barely felt it when his blond teammate, having followed him from the hospital, settled herself next to him, smiling contentedly. She placed a bag of chips on Shikamaru's other side, where Chouji would normally have been, then leaned back against the tree, closing her blue eyes as she went.

And all three members of Team Ten drifted off to sleep, dreaming of each other and how lucky they really were.

Well, I was inspired to write this after I saw the episode of Naruto when, you guessed it, Shikamaru was crying. Let me just say that I was crying just as hard as Shika when I watched it. That song that they play whenever something sad happens really gets to me. Especially if it has something to do with Neji or Shika. But anyway.

So this story was a little different for me, and it probably needs some work. Please tell me what I can do better. I would love any and all criticism and reviews.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed it!

Small edit on 10/19/07, hopefully got all the typos