Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. This is a work of nonprofit fanfiction.
AN: This idea came to me in the shower this morning as most ideas do. I wasn't thinking about Naruto at all, it just popped in my head "Hey! Wouldn't it be fun to write my favorite character dying!" I also have been lazy in writing so I felt obligated to turn out something more substantial than a half-written poem. The title is Shikamaru's trademark "troublesome" in Japanese (not terribly original, but I couldn't think of much else). If you like it, review, if not, review…. or don't review. Either way.
Mendokuse
Dying had never been high on Shikamaru's short list of ambitions in life, but it didn't seem to matter now. Blood was slowly pulsing out around the bolt embedded in his chest, down from the torrent that had flown out at the wounds birth.
Crossbows had been outlawed from conventional warfare for years, the weapon being labeled inhumane by humanitarians and a cowardly implement by samurai officials (he choked out a macabre chuckle at the thought of which carried more weight), but that obviously hadn't mattered to the person who shot him.
The flat expanse of high grasses in which he was strewn gently swished with the wind, partially obscuring his aerial view. If there was only one thing he was owed by karma it was a last sight of that mottled blue and ivory canvas that he loved, but there was nothing to be done now, except maybe complain to the ferryman on the river Styx. Arguing with anyone, much less supernatural beings, was not his style. Complaining he could do.
This thought brought a lecturing Ino to the front of his mind, the memory not yet a day old. She had been furious at him leaving for a solo mission on the day she had arranged for his and Temari's first date. Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get her to agree! I get you a date because it was too much work for you to ask and now you're leaving to go chase after some petty opium smugglers! You can be such a selfish jerk Shika! A mental sigh followed the recollection. He had admitted to Ino he liked the foreign girl because she had pestered him about it, not his fault she chose to play matchmaker. As he slouched off to escape the tirade Chouji had paused long enough from his snacking to deliver a joking comment "Don't get killed! We're having barbecue when you get back!" Shikamaru didn't find it so amusing now.
He wheezed softly, feeling this collapsing lung contract further. The breeze which had cooled him earlier now seemed to be stealing his breath away.
All the people, places, things he had known were hazily drifting through his mind, contrary to the flash commonly described in others. His eyelids moved closer together, pausing at half-mast to gaze again at the lazy wanderings above.
Rushing through memories….through life….how troublesome.