Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind.
Play. There she was, smiling and waving. Her beautiful hair was slung over her shoulder like a golden waterfall, her eyes as blue as an ocean.
Pause. Her grin froze, flickering ever so slightly as the tape tried to roll. Even when she was so still, she looked so beautiful.
Rewind. The video tape resumed then sped backwards, recounting her movements doubled in speed. She was still so graceful and oh so beautiful.
And this was all Shikamaru had left of her. His wonderful goddess Ino, suspended forever in a roll of film. It wasn't as if it had been taken recently, though. In fact, they were only seventeen. That was back when he was still with Temari, but that never worked out. He should have spotted the storm to come before it even hit, and he wouldn't have lost so much precious time.
Play. Pause. Sure enough, there they were at the very back of the frame, sitting on a porch. His arm was wrapped around her waist, and her hand stroked his cheek. Was it just a summer romance? Sure, but it was great while it lasted. They kept themselves to themselves, and managed to hide their constant fighting from the rest of Konoha. But everyone still saw them together, even just a glimmer. This video tape proved it.
The foreground was far more painful than the background. There she stood, Shikamaru's love. The image of her could have very well been seven weeks ago instead of seven years. But that was impossible. Her beauty was immortal; she hadn't changed at all after so long. And she never would, not now.
Rewind. Ino repeated those same movements, over and over. She waved with her right hand, and then laid it in her lap. She swept her hair off her shoulder with her left as the beautiful blonde grinned and hooked her arm around Sakura's neck. The echo of a memory long gone.
Stop. Shikamaru had had enough for one day. He stopped the tape and switched off the TV, casting the room into darkness. The wind howled outside as the thunder crashed and shook the window pane. A fitting turn of weather to suit his mood. It may as well rain forever; he'd be happy to drown.
Getting up, the ghostlike shinobi wandered into the hallway. The accusing eyes pressed into the photographs followed him as he drifted aimlessly to the kitchen and flicked the light on. Looking down, Shikamaru realised he was still wearing his wedding ring, even though it no longer held any meaning. But it seemed to cling to his spindly fingers like a leech, soaking all of the happiness out of him.
He sat at the kitchen table staring at the gold band. He supposed he hadn't really come to terms with it at all, but he had had twelve months to do so. What a rough twelve months it had been. Everybody pretended to care, had offered him their help. The only help he'd ever accept was a way to bring Ino back. But such things were impossible, he'd looked. Preposterous though the concept was, Shikamaru had the tiniest glimmer of hope that he'd find something. Of course not.
He looked back on that day. June 28. He remembered it well. He and Ino had been married for two whole years, and they even had a child on the way. Of course, they didn't know that at the time. So they'd been sent on a mission to recover a scroll from an enemy fortress. He wished now that he hadn't talked her into going.
They were ambushed in the dead of night. She had fought admirably, the whole group had. But they were just too quick. It took one kunai… and his whole world fell apart.
He remembered a feeling of surprise when Temari showed her face at the funeral. He'd avoided making any contact with her, but always felt her eyes fixed on him. Was she just here to gloat, or did she want something? Either way, it was bound to be troublesome. So he'd dodged her the entire day, and then for the twelve months that followed. In fact, he'd given everybody the cold shoulder. He didn't need anyone, not now.
There was a pounding on his front door. Shikamaru could only just distinguish it from the thunder. He didn't want to answer. The knocking continued though, for a full seven minutes. Growing tired of the consistent banging, the shadow of a man lazily got up and shuffled down the hallway. The banging continued until he pulled the door open.
"Hey." Temari stood on his porch, soaking wet and shivering. He studied her face. It wasn't playful, or taunting, or mocking. It seemed… Earnest. He stepped aside to let her through into the hall, but she stayed firmly planted on the porch. Shikamaru looked at her confusedly, taking in her soaking clothes and limp hair. She looked freezing, but as if she intended to do something.
"Are you going to come in?" he asked. His voice sounded rough and quiet. It was no surprise, he barely talked anymore. He lived in almost complete isolation. This encounter with Temari was the first human contact he'd had in weeks. And it showed.
"Uhm…" the blonde kunoichi stood there stuttering. "I actually just came to… See if you were okay."
Shikamaru looked at her. This wasn't the Temari he remembered. She was usually so self-absorbed and had never asked him if he was okay before. But of course he wasn't okay! The woman he loved was dead and he didn't care for life anymore. What he had… What he could have had… Was lost. It was painted across his face like a neon sign, one that even the emotionally-barren sand nin could pick up on. She laid a hand on his cheek and kissed his lips gently.
Shikamaru stared at her in amazement. What did she just do?! Had she really forgotten all about what had happened to him? What had happened to Ino? This was her way of taunting him, of showing him how foolish he was. She was reminding him in her obscure way that everything was his fault. But once again, nothing of the sort showed on her face. Instead was a small, modest smile.
Shikamaru wrapped his arms around Temari's shoulders, pulling her into an awkward embrace on the porch. They stood there, heads resting against each other for several long moments, before finally breaking apart. For the first time since Ino had gone, he finally felt happy. Temari's warmth comforted him, and for the tiniest instant Ino was driven out of his mind. She made him… Happy.
As she looked deep into his distraught eyes, she laid another kiss on his cheek. As she drew away and out of his personal bubble, she whispered in his ear. "I'm always here for you." And she turned back to face the rain, and bravely stepped through the thick sheet of fog and into the darkness.
Shikamaru watched her go. As her figure was lost in the gloom, he revisited the moment in his mind. Play. Pause. Rewind. He would need her soon. But for now, all he needed were his memories.