My first try at a Naruto fanfic. I kind of feel like vomitting. Disclaimers.


1. Two Sides of a Wall

Description: On a mission, Shikamaru, Hinata and Neji have checked into a hotel and he's stuck alone in a tiny cramped room with a leaky air-conditioner and a swinging lightbulb, whilst they are sharing the luxury suite, and guess who's having a better time?


Everyone has a special moment in their lives that they would keep in their hearts forever. It is a memory embedded into the core of their very being, shaping their past and present and future from there. This memory can never be touched, altered, forgotten.

Hinata has a slew of memories, all wrong, all forgotten. They drop away like pieces of rotting wood, like dead leaves, like the gold of the sky that peels off to reveal the night. This night doesn't hide her, doesn't cloak her in its shadows. It is perfect, this night, this moment.

Neji's lips are cold as ice, but his mouth is warm against hers. She hears her own raspy breathing, as well as Neji's. Their breaths mingle; he smells of her own scent. He moans. They tussle on the bed. Naked. She ran her hands down his back, felt the bones jutting out, the muscles moving under the pale skin.

Neji has no fat, she thinks. Hinata is perfect, he thinks.

He clasps her to him, hooks her leg around his waist and they look into each other's eyes.

"Thank you."

Neither of them would ever be able to recall who said it.


Shikamaru was an insomniac.

Amazing, huh? You'd never have guessed.

In his mind's eye he shaped a chequerboard engraved into a wooden table and two pots of stones. Black and white. He played with a phantom. Shikamaru never thought of the person he was playing with. Instead, he looked to the board. In the game of go, one's personality is written in the stones. The hand that moved them was inconsequential.

After he had beaten the phantom she would usually slap a palm on the table and groan.

"I can't believe I lost to you again," she would mutter. "How about a one-on-one in the field?"

"No can do," he replied, chin rested on his palm. "That's too--"

"Troublesome?" she supplied.

He shrugged. "I was going to say boring." Then he started putting the stones back into their respective pots. This was where the dream usually went wrong.

"You're not going to fight me?" she would bark. "Fine! Then after you're done, wash the laundry! Kazekage-sama's sent for me; I have to get ready for the trip back."

His dream-self would go wrong here too. He would actually slink into the kitchen, collect the laundry and . . .

'WAKE UP, SHIKAMARU!" he shouted at himself. Mentally, of course.

He thought of dropping by to check on the two Hyuugas, then decided against it. They were probably asleep anyway.


Okay, did it suck? Review !