On.
Off.
On.
Off.
The flickering flame of the worn-over lighter was visible in the darkness of her room.
It used to be her teachers. The man who had never let her down. Who understood the will of the Yamanaka clan's heir. His signature cigarette, dangling from in-between chopped lips. It seemed to never go out, but one day it was gone. There was no fire to keep him alive.
"Asuma- sensei was brilliant and exuberant. He had a yellow shining smile at the end of a hard and blood filled mission."
Those were the words. Her words at his funeral. The sentences she described him with. And as she continued her speech, Shikamaru had stepped outside for a smoke.
"Ino..."
A sleepy voice drained her image of the past and she settled her focus to the figure beside her. A husky, but smoothed voice gradually sung her name. A smell of forest, of a ninja unfledged her from his body. She found it a relaxing smell. It stopped her from going mad.
"Ino, are you awake?"
"Yes, I'm up. Do you want coffee?"
Her question was ignored, like usual, as a strong arm pulled her into a warm, welcoming hug. His hold was large enough for one frame, and she fit the position perfectly. The mans fingers kissed her hair as the tickled the strands. She almost felt completely happy again.
"Shikamaru?"
"Hmmm?"
"Did Asuma love us?"
"Of course."
He took the lighter in his hands, softening his autonomy and carrying his lover to the picture of their grinning teacher.
On.
Off.
On.
Off...
The End.
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