This is a requested drabble for Strawberry Shake. Yes, I owe a lot of people some requested fics and I think they're even overdue (Heck, what is this? School? Kidding.). So, I hope this is an okay fic, like always.
Just wanted to post it so Strawberry and I can celebrate our two days of freedom (School's cancelled).
ShikaIno! Gawd, I haven't made a ShikaIno in a while, huh? Gawd!
And, yes, this is a rather short drabble (Wait, drabbles are meant to be short, damn it.) so please don't bother mentioning how short it was or anything like that. Just… please, okay? Thanks.
This way, we'll be saving your time by not writing flames and saving my time by not reading any flames. Jk.
Note: My personal critique (My best friend, idiot.) said that I should make a note stating the 'abstract-mimicry' sense of the drabble.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, ShikaIno would prevail!
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His hands pranced through the ivory and ebony, savoring every last touch.
The music played past everyone present, captivating their minds and hypnotizing their motions, making them swerve to every note that came out. When everyone else was limited to just listening, he had control over the song.
His eyes followed his fingers, splendidly tapping out the piece that was written in a language foreign to our tongue. Amid all the figures and black lines and such, Shikamaru knew there was music within.
The passion for the song beat against his league as he ceased to stop in running his fingers down the black and white. With every tap, a note responded to it. He was happy with this.
But once he had missed a key, sending a wrong and erroneous tone to break the magic of the music, everything shattered.
The lone note keeps breaking the spell bound by the song, halting the dancing of the masqueraders and pausing the audience from their very accurate listening. All eyes shoot through him and in an instant, shame blankets him entirely.
A genius remains calm in a situation as such but when he wanted to conceal the mistake with the rest of the sonnet, he failed to do so.
His mind wandered, thinking of the embarrassment, the sudden humiliation and the overthrow of his name as the genius, the master…
Then, the duchess makes her move.
From her seat, she gathered the hem of her dress and made her way across the smooth and slick dance floor, making her shoes trail a sound like a groan as she walks past everyone.
Soon, the eyes were on her. Behind the mask she wears is a face embedded in charity and love. Her cerulean eyes see the anxiety in his beady ones like how his hands make the music that makes her soul.
Surprisingly, she nods at him and suddenly takes a seat beside him in front of the grand piano. She weaves a smile for him and whispers such delicate words of encouragement and support.
With that, she positions her gloved fingers over certain keys and starts to play.
Seeing this, he, too, had started playing again the same melody as earlier. The dancing began again and the audience once again beamed at the beauty of the music. The night was back on track for them.
As for the pianist and the lovely masquerader, their hands meet on the keyboard every so often and with every chance they get, they'd give the other a smile. His smile was an act of gratitude while hers was an act done out of devotion.
And so it goes on, the night plays by. Stars still sparkle like the moon's eternal shine. And thus, the pianist and lady masquerader forever plays the song of life and love, together forever in each other's arms.
Shikamaru wasn't strong without his Ino.
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Me: Oh, come on!
My Personal Critique: Well, you have to explain it, right?!
Me: Do I have to?
M.P.C: Yes!
Me: Oh, alright. Shikamaru's being a pianist represents his being a shinobi. When he makes a mistake, he can't pick himself up and gives up instead, swallowing the shame and concealing whatever's true. Along comes Ino, the masquerader, and she continues his song (his life) for him, helping him up again and pushing him to try again.
M.P.C: See? Was that too hard?
Me: YOU do the talking next time.
