~ A losing age is a time when there doesn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel. From beginning to end, countless lives are lost to war, countless more are lost to despair. It is fate's test of tenacity - should we be meant to pass, we will never fall.

- Jiraiya

Why should it have been any surprise? The air was heavy with the scent of blood and gore, just as he had predicted. The earth beneath them was soft with the heavy rainfall - a factor that had dampened their chances of success, just as he feared. The catastrophic events that had unfolded on this losing battlefield not only cost the lives of many brave individuals, but would mean several more months of setbacks while their enemy drove them back - his foresight having seen this as well.

Why did he go through with the plan, in spite of the odds? Why did he lie to the faces of the men and women - who swore upon blood to liberate the shinobi world - and tell them victory was possible? Hope had abandoned them, and now the mistake glared at the young tactical commander. Somehow, this was one outcome he never saw coming, despite the odds.

Shikamaru walked silently and slowly, appalled - distraught by the sights of the fallen, down the misty shale surfaces of the Arashi Basin. Everywhere he looked, he could barely make out the faces of the shinobi he had led confidently into battle, all of whom he let down. The injured sat upright, trying to treat their own wounds wherever a medical nin was nowhere nearby. Some sat nearby the corpses of the dead. Brave souls who had entrusted their lives and success to an eighteen year old leader. Brave, but also foolish, Shikamaru thought to himself crushingly.

His father had been right about him. He wasn't ready to lead an offensive. Even though this attack had been a minor success, Akatsuki's armies would soon be on the rebound. Worse than the number decrease they had suffered, they would all die if he didn't order a retreat soon. So many were lost, and it was all because he overlooked details of the battleground. The weather...he should have brought more users of the Suiton element. The fallen...more medical nin should have come along. The dormant land mines...several trap experts would have been a must. All were calculations he failed to mention, all because he feared dampening the faith they had in his leadership. He had never cared what people thought of him before, so why did he start then?

Trying to spot the headbands of the injured and fallen, he saw few who were from Konoha. Most of them were the Iwa nin. A few were Kumo. Bloodstained headbands, all the same - few were distinguishable from one another while drowned in their owners blood. He spotted out of the corner of his eye a Cloud nin female holding the corpse of a Sand nin close to her, crying as silently as she could. He recognized them from the rally the morn prior. They were engaged to be married after the war was over, as he recalled talking to them - their confidence in his leadership being subject of discussion. Now, such dreams would never happen, and the war would only continue. Akatsuki had become too powerful, and his judgment tainted Hakumei's forces.

A group of survivors, maybe five of them, had gathered around a young man. He couldn't have been more than twenty at the most, Shikamaru thought. A large gash was punctured in his skull from the looks of it, with the others covering his body slowly with a blanket, giving their final farewells.

A woman nearby was being held onto tightly by two others, trying to prevent her from getting away. By their feet was a boy, probably eleven, and among the few the Hakumei army allowed into the front lines. The woman was shouting out insanities, yelling for the others to let her go so she could find the enemy and kill them herself, just like they did to her little brother. Before Shikamaru even passed them up, he saw the woman stop her struggle so she could break down and cry, cursing the Akatsuki with every gasp of air she took in her despair.

Teens, elderly, and even some gifted children all formed the masses that remained in sight, even as the misty veil went on. How could a single army do so terribly against another? How could their dwindling numbers keep up with the enemy? Was it possible to undo six years of endless loss? As rain began to gently trickle on top of his head, Shikamaru looked up to the sky. Almost black clouds, moving fast across the heavens. The rain had come at the wrong time, as always in this losing age.

It was all his fault, he kept telling himself. He made the calculations. He formed the offensive with perfection, failing to overlook any detail. His faith in his variables, however...He had been on such a winning streak until now. Hakumei's forces were defeating Akatsuki's with ease, until today. If he hadn't treated the battlefield like such a game, perhaps he would have thought of a back up plan. Maybe a retreat plan even. Anything would have been so much better than this. He wanted to say he was sorry to everyone. He wanted to, but knew not only could he not, but they would never accept it. He didn't care about being a captain anymore. He just wanted to undo this mistake.

As he walked across the basin and approached the riverfront, there came a sinking feeling in his heart. Many of the few Jonin on this battle he had already seen. However...two were missing. And what he heard after this realization made his heart skip two beats, and sink to the bottom of his chest.

"Hey, these Jonin are in the red zone! Help me stop them from going under!" Reluctantly, he turned his head, watching three medical nin rush over to the side of two bloodied up bodies. Shurikens and kunai that had been removed from them lay in piles at their sides, as did two familiar dog tags. A red one, and a purple one. Looking at his own regular colored dog tag, he remembered that in the entire army, only one person had the idea of coloring her and her friends tags. And only one of her friends had allowed it. Those two were...

"I-Ino...Chouji..." It was as though his legs had lost the will to move forward. He didn't want to see it, he didn't want to be right. Not this time. Not ever again if it would make whatever came next less painful. One of the medical nin noticed Shikamaru, and gave him a look of both anguish and fear.

"Shikamaru." the nin said respectfully towards his commander. "These two...I know they are friends of yours...I don't know how much we can do for them."

He suddenly found the urge, though hated it with every fiber of his being, to budge. As he closed in on the last few feet of distance between him and one of the most horrible sights he would ever see in his life, an echo of thunder built up in the sky, and the rain began to pick up, becoming heavier every second that passed. As his eyes laid sight upon the blood caked faces of his best friends, the rain pounded ten times harder upon his head, and a bolt of lightning illuminated the entire basin, and the faces of his comrades..

"H-hey there, Shikamaru." Chouji said, forcing his low, raspy voice to work right, but to no avail. "Me and Ino...didn't see the trap c-coming...Sorry to let you down."

Shikamaru fell to his knees, fighting back tears with all of his might and holding his hands over his face as if he was trying to claw it off. "N-no. You guys...I'm so sorry...It's all my fault this happened! If I didn't lead this battle..."

Ino raised a finger to her lips weakly to hush him, momentarily forcing a smile, despite the pain she was in. She spoke low, with Shikamaru barely able to hear her. "Hey...everyone makes...mistakes...right? Even someone...smart. Like you...Besides...you did great. Anyone else would have failed...Don't...let it get to you. We beat them today...that's all that matters, right?"

Was that all that mattered? Perhaps to those who were dying, who wanted a reason for their deaths not to be in vain. But to the living, it had come at too steep of a price. Far too steep to be real. "Guys...please." Shikamaru begged. "Too many people have lost their lives today! I don't want you to be a part of that group! Please! I need you both!" He had let a build up of tears escape, and didn't even try this time to hide it. His voice, clenched by sorrow, sounded almost like he too was dying.

Then, Chouji's arm began to move. Lifting it off the ground slowly, he held his hand in the formation of a thumbs up, and closed one of his eyes. "Kick Akatsuki's ass...Shika..." The last word, Shikamaru's very name, came out as a loose tone, almost as if he was letting it go. Then, almost at the same time, his arm fell to the ground, the thumbs up still formed.

"Chouji? CHOUJI?" His face bolted over to his other friend, whose eyes were lifelessly opened. "INO! Guys, please! Stay alive!" Looking at the medical nin, he shot them a frantically worried face, and they immediately began to channel their chakra into their palms, which then turned yellow and became slightly electrified.

"Keep their hearts beating! Come on, we can't work on the dead!" shouted the lead medic to the others. Charging the yellow healing chakra, they forced their palms rapidly into the chests of Shikamaru's friends, to attempt CPR upon them. A loud zapping noise was heard, and Shika saw their bodies jump a tiny bit. The medical nin then pressed their ears to Ino and Chouji's chests, trying to listen for any sign of a heartbeat. It happened again, and again, until they had performed the procedure six times. Then, the lead medic looked at the others, who refused to look back at him, and he gave Shikamaru an expression that would come to haunt him as the one face he never wanted to see again, all the while stating the words he never wanted to hear again. "We lost them."

"INO! CHOUJI!" Shikamaru bolted upright in his bed, panting as though he had just ran a marathon. His face was reddened from the shock of the nightmare he had just endured. A nightmare, but of something that had really happened.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he moved his hair out of his eyes, towards the back of his head. Behind his ears, and out of his way. Taking a moment to adjust, he looked around his room. Dark and quiet, same as always. Laying his head back into his pillow, he glanced over at the single light coming from his red-numbered digital clock. Three in the morning.

Ever since that tragic day, a mere four months prior, he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep, hauntings of his biggest mistake forcing him into the realm of consciousness unwillingly. How he longed for the days when he was a kid, when his only care was if there were enough clouds in the sky, and he slept endlessly under the shade of the Hidden Lead village's trees How cruel reality was to the lazy young man - those days would probably never come again. As long as the homelands of Shinobi were the domicile of the traitors and rogues that comprised Akatsuki's vast armies.

Unable to close his eyes anymore, Shikamaru lazily pulled the covers off of him and hopped out of bed. Walking over to the lone tiny window in the room, he wondered if anyone would be in the streets at this hour. People watching - his latest past time, and the only thing to take his mind off of his worries. After all, it was difficult to find clouds in a village that was built inside of a vast mountain cavern.

Staring out the small glass window, he yawned at the predictable sights on the street below. Nothingness. Just perfect. Right when he needed a crowd of passersbys most. There wasn't even anyone rushing through to deliver messages to the leading nin in the dome-like building next door, the very heart of the shinobi world nowadays. Such a waste of a street crafted with such delicate detail by the Doton users of Hakumei, one of the many shinobi gifts to the common folk who sheltered with them in their time of need.

His thoughts began to wander, with no medium to channel his frustration. He began to reflect on that battle in the Arashi Basin. The armies of Akatsuki gained most of their resources from that place, and many of there numbers resided there too. It was such a critical attack, and could have won them the war upon Sunogakure's overthrown land. But his mistake cost them such a luxury. Had he gone on with the offensive like Ino and Chouji wanted him to, would things be different now? Would Arashi Basin still have been under Hakumei's control? Or would there just be even more deaths due to his failure as a leader?

He prided himself on his ability to lead long ago. Being both a jonin and one of the main tactics commanders in the war against Akatsuki, perhaps he became full of himself somewhere along the line. Perhaps he saw too many similarities between Shogi and war, and began to think of everything as just a game. But games were supposed to be enjoyable, pawns to be sacrificed without regret, victories and losses at low cost to all. True war was nothing like Shogi, and his friends were far from pawns.

His decision that day to pull out was seen as cowardly by many Hakumei shinobi. Soon, he had given up being a member of the offensive at all, and requested to the Council of Five to resign. Though they allowed it, where did it lead him? Being part of the guards of this subterranean village may have allowed him more time for sleeping, but what was sleep when you couldn't get to it?

It was so troublesome. Sometimes, he longed for the better times, going outside of his comfort zone of "ignorance is bliss" and thinking about what life would be like if all this had never happened. Things would undoubtedly be better. Konoha would still have been their home, as it had been for him and his clan for generations. All the refugees and nin from the foreign nations wouldn't have to huddle in such a crowded space for security and hope, making things far less noisy. The work load would be less about what had to be done, and more about how much you get paid. Ino and Chouji would still be alive. And so would Naruto, probably.

He would never admit it, but Shikamaru really did miss the kid. Though he was annoying, he was company, and that was enough for him. He always did wonder what happened to the boy. He was told that Naruto had something to do with Akatsuki's goals, but that was before they attacked. He never heard, nor ever asked about the subject again. Maybe he just didn't want to know, so he could have the tiniest shred of hope that an old friend may still be alive. Still, he hadn't seen the brat for six years. Maybe if he was still alive, he'd end up regretting that hope. Then again, he would kill for a face from the good old days at this point.

Knock Knock Knock! "A visitor after midnight? What a bother..." Turning towards the door, he wondered who could be knocking. Maybe it was just his 'neighbor', coming to complain again. He looked down at himself. Blue boxers and a white tank top. What a way to present one's self to a guest. Like he really cared, anyway.

Walking over to the door, he kicked his shoes out of the way, having improperly left them out due to his lack of concern. Who needed to worry about putting away their footwear anyway? The wooden door opened with a creak, and no surprise to Shikamaru, it was Kankuro, the jonin whose room was right next to his.

"Hey. Shikamaru." The slightly bulky teen said in a tired voice, almost yawning and scratching his bed-head. "It's like... I dunno, really early in the morning. What the hell were you yelling about just now?"

Was he sleep talking now? Shikamaru turned away the slightest bit, not exactly eager to answer this one directly. His problems were his own trouble, and no one elses. "Nothing." he lied.

Kankuro opened his mouth wide, and covered it with his hand as he let out a big yawn. "Well... keep it down then. I'm leaving on a mission tomorrow, and I really need some sleep, alright?"

Shikamaru could only nod at the former Suno nin, and assured him he wouldn't be making any more noise. Not like he could help it. Watching the jonin drag his feet lazily over to his own room, Shikamaru closed his door quietly and walked over to his bed. "Such a pain, having that guy living next to me." he thought to himself, crawling back into bed. "He always complains about one thing or another. Just like his sister." He glanced over at the clock one more time, hoping some of it had passed.

The closer the days got toward being over, the closer Akatsuki was towards their ultimate defeat. At least, that's what he kept telling himself whenever things looked bleak. News arriving as of late was less than encouraging after all. The only way he could try keeping himself from worrying about it was to think like that. And worrying about the war was the last thing he wanted to involve himself with these days. It didn't concern him anymore. He wasn't a commander, or anyone within the ranks. It was someone else's problem now.

Closing his eyes, he tried to drift off into slumber, but to no avail.

Author's Notes:

Welcome to the world of Ni Shourai - where the future looks bleak, and the world of Naruto as you know it means little. Taking from the premise, the story centers around the world six years after Itachi and Kisame attempted to kidnap Naruto. The twist? They succeeded, obviously.

Many things aren't what they used to be. The hidden villages, once havens to their respective citizens, are now clustered with Akatsuki, and their armies of traitors and converts. The only safezone for anyone who wishes to escape the rule of the Warlords is upon the isle of Arashi, an uncharted land off the coast of the Wind Country that serves as the last bastian of shinobi power in the world.

The premise to the series spawned from another AU fanfiction idea I was writing up at the time - a rather unrelated one at that, involving an alternate universe scenario where the cast of the Naruto universe were in a medival adventure to save Europe from the greedy coils of King Orochi the 8th, and thwart a plot to nullify armistance pacts between England and France, and epic battles in a castle dungeon, chandelier cutting, Gaara as an Irish prince, the Akatsuki Pirates...

Ahem, I'll stop there. Lack of research into that plot aside, I came up with this one soon after. The idea seemed to flow a lot better, and offered a different look on the original series themes as well. Without the main character, Naruto, how would the cast have managed in an all out war against a foe that they seem to have no hope against? How would the characters develop and adapt to this darker age, where the fight for survival is critical?

Just to let you all know, though Shikamaru is overall the 'main character' of Ni Shourai, his role is more that of an anchor to keep the storyline in place. While his development is built upon most of all, the various comrades he will be accompanied by are equally focused on as much as possible, resulting in an overall feel that should match the original series's goals.

I hope you all enjoy this story, and please feel free to offer as much feedback as you can. And nice comments if you have any - I love nice comments 3. Just note that some characters are bound to have personality alterations due to the course of history going on in the story - some may be less lovable than their counterparts, or more interesting, depending on how you see things.

I plan to update every other week on Friday until I have more chapters completed ahead of schedule. Remember to bug and pester me for the next chapter - it helps remind this silly writer what he was doing.

~ See you July 16th!
Grand Lord Atos