Title: Brilliance Hidden in the Clouds
Author: Dana
Word Count: 7,523
Part: 1 of 1
Disclaimer: Yerr silly; of course I dun own Naruto.
Summary: AU. Shikamaru Nara is a genius composer underneath all the layers of boredom and lack of motivation. Neji is an impassivce, stoic pianist prodigy in need of a brilliant piece for his upcoming performance. So when Neji finds an untitled, non-signed piano piece, it's no surprise when it's linked to Shikamaru.
Warnings: implied preslash, cursing, lack of enthusiasm, lack of editting, unstylish writing skills, possible OOC, lack of discernible plot (change "plot" to "pupil" and I totally plagarized from "Curiosity" by sonotgoingthere, sorrayy!), and whatever else you pick up along the way
Inspiration: These two stories: "Fifteen Thirty" by brevityofwit and "Adante, Allegro, Al Fine!" by Nanaki Lioness. You should definitely read them; they're wayy better than this crock yerr starting to read, ha. You should also read that "Curiosity" story I pretty much plagarized; that one is definitely swell.
Notes: If you hate my writing style, don't gripe, I hate it too. But just bare with me on this silly, silly ride. That hill before us isn't really all that steep, and rolling down it will be especially fun. God, I'm a fruit. If you have a question mulling in your mind throughout the story, please do not hesitate to ask. I will not be adverse to answering any questions you have for me. If not, feel free to reply, exit, or do whatever-the-fyck-else. Haha, brutal d4wgg.
If simply being enthusiastic was a nine-to-five job with health/dental benefits and a wage of fifteen dollars an hour, Shikamaru Nara would still be broke. He'd still be nestled in the slightly damp, lively green grass on the south side of his university, contemplating the clouds. No such benefits or gracious wages could remove him from his morning, afternoon, and evening ritual. Such dedication to a lack of motivation was the error of his ways, as all his friends, family, and professors would say.é. An almost secretive smile tugged at the corners of his lips, while his body language exploited his lack of enthusiasm.
Shikamaru had no life goals, other than to be ordinary and live an ordinary life. The only reason for his enrolling in a university would be his mother's strict ultimatum ("Either you go to a college, Shikamaru, or you get the fuck out!"). Seeing as Shikamaru, even at age twenty, wasn't too interested in doing his own laundry or making his own meals, the choice was obvious. Of course, with every deal comes a catch. And his catch, actually having to go to the classes and pass, was something he definitely was not up to. Honestly, he would have been better off with a job at the local burger joint.
It was by pure luck (or maybe bribery or blackmail on his mother's part) that he made it into such a prestigious university. After his self-appointed "favorite teacher" had discovered one of his brilliant piano compositions, he had been taught and re-taught from every direction to become a great composer. But he lacked the passion. He would much rather cushion his head in his arms and stare listlessly at the drifting clouds. Asuma, his "favorite teacher" whom he had mixed feelings for, wouldn't let him be, though. He snuck his way into Shikamaru's brain and reveled in the fact that not only was Shikamaru not a two-bit loser without any bit of a future, he was actually a genius. It was inconceivable to Asuma. And it was a drag to Shikamaru.
Picking up the handbag at his side, he sat up lazily. He walked with a curved back, slouching uncomfortably. He rubbed his eyes, lids wrought with exhaustion, as a yawn erupted on his face. After slinging the bag over his shoulder, he ambled toward the large south wing of the school. Thankfully, he had ten minutes to get to his first class of the afternoon.
With a quick glance at his watch, Shikamaru cursed colorfully. As per usual, his first class of the day was used for catching up on his sleeping. The professor couldn't be bothered to actually watch over his students, and left them to their own devices. Shikamaru, clearly uninterested, decided his arms were suddenly strangers and reacquainted himself with them. Of course, he took an abnormally long time waking up when the class was dismissed. There was no need to rush, his sleep-infested mind coerced him. His next teacher was only the spawn of Satan that breathed fire down his throat every fucking minute. But, no, of course, that was just a twenty-mile long hyperbole.
So, when he finally managed to wake himself up after a couple speedy minutes passed, his mind pleasantly reminded him just who his next professor was. He sped out of his nap-room, ignoring the tight frown on the teacher's face and the hordes of students trying to enter the classroom. While taking inhumanly long strides, Shikamaru rummaged through his bag and pulled out his composition. At the very least, he'd turn the assignment in, even if it meant slipping it under the locked classroom door and praying that someone would take pity on him and turn it in. He had actually worked rather hard on that piece, though he wouldn't be able to express why. Last night had been one of those very, very rare nights when songs plagued his mind until he had no choice but to write them down. (And, hopefully, it got a good enough grade to raise his low D in the class to a respectable D plus, lest his mother discover his terrible grade through her frequent phone calls to his professors.)
Lady Luck, it appeared, had a beef to pick with him; he was already late by three minutes. Worried for his marks (and the wrath of his irate mother), he rounded a corner with remarkable speed. In his haste, unfortunately, he ran directly into a hard body, forcing him backwards. Perhaps if his balance was better, he would not have ended up splayed across the floor with his papers scattered around him.
Shikamaru let himself rest on the concrete for a few moments before pushing himself into a sitting position and then to a stand. He briefly noticed the man he ran into kneeling on the ground, shuffling his papers together while raking his eyes over the computer-written notes. Allowing himself a good look at the attractive man in front of him, Shikamaru resisted the urge to groan. He just had to run into his upperclassman – one that was rather popular on campus for being a pianist prodigy. His fame even reached other schools within a twenty mile radius. And it wasn't just due to his piano abilities; he was also an attractive, mysterious, intelligent, wealthy man.
"What is this?" The pale-eyed pianist asked him, gesturing with his free hand at the papers he clutched. He stared directly at Shikamaru, unnerving him. His gaze was not rude or overbearing; it simply held a sort of finesse that struck a chord in Shikamaru's being, forcing him to fight to regain his leisure composure. "It's very good."
Had it not been for the compliment following his question, Shikamaru would have replied with a sharp "It's a piano piece." Instead, he let out a small sigh, followed by a bland "thanks" to show his gratitude. He walked closer to the man, intent on getting his assignment back and heading to class. He was unpleasantly intercepted.
"It doesn't say who the composer is." Shikamaru watched incredulous lavender eyes scan the paper quickly. The man's voice was oddly light, yet it emanated a strength and confidence hidden within the depths of its baritone rumble. "Lady Luck must be on my side today–" Shikamaru sent a resonating "bloody traitor" to the woman addressed, "–I was just searching for a piece to play at my next recital. I need something to really distinguish my presence in the pianist community, and something like this would be just astounding."
Shikamaru felt his heart speed up, a blush heating his face. His friends had always complimented his work, as did his mentor Asuma, and his family. But to have a fellow colleague – and one that is a brilliant pianist at that! – desire to play it professionally was more than any verbal compliment could imply. Immediately, the other man's eyes widened and he thrust out a friendly hand.
"That was terribly rude of me – asking for your possessions before even introducing myself. I'm Neji Hyuuga, senior here at Konoha Arts, and you are?" A stiff smile quirked his lips, and Shikamaru could tell Neji wasn't one for polite introductions. His posture was rigid, as was his hand waiting patiently to clasp onto Shikamaru's. To hopefully ease the other's distress, he let his shoulders sag to show he was not insulted by the lack of initial introduction.
But, unless Neji was fluent in body language, he wouldn't comprehend that. So Shikamaru casually gripped the other's hand and shook it. "I'm Shikamaru Nara, junior."
"So, if I may ask, what is this composition for?" Neji inquired, swiftly letting go of Shikamaru's hand and allowing his own to fall lifelessly to his side.
A quick thought of "oh shit" came to mind when he remembered he was supposed to be in class at the moment. "It's for my class." Shikamaru was never one for small talk, so the quicker this conversation ended the quicker he could be on his way. He'd rather not be on the receiving end of his demonic teacher's temper.
"Oh, well, would you mind telling me the composer's name? I would be very grateful if I could play one of his pieces at my recital."
Shikamaru took a lengthy look at the pale eyes, long brown hair, lean figure, athletic build, and ivory complexion and decided the truth wouldn't be a favored reply. "Maa, I forgot it, sorry. But," he continued after seeing the slightly disappointed nod he received, "I can find another piece by him for you. You'd have to give me a couple of days, though."
A relieved sigh escaped from Neji's lips as he handed Shikamaru his papers back. "Thank you, Shikamaru Nara."
"You're welcome," was his soft reply. He blatantly stared as the man turned on his heel and left him alone in the hallway. Shikamaru stayed in that very position, papers clasped by his side, before realizing he had a class to get to. He hoped Lady Luck would allow him this one tack on the tally board and rushed into the classroom.
"Naruto, shut up!" An angry-looking dame clapped her hand over an exuberant blond's mouth. Her friends were standing around her, backpacks all on their person. It was a fairly decent sized group. Three girls – one shy, one too strong for her own good, and one with a perfected saccharine-sweet smile – and four boys – one loud and obnoxious, one obsessed with canines, one always stuffing his face, and one with a passive look constantly on his face – made up the group.
"Ino," the biggest of them said, shoveling potato chips into his mouth, "he was just going to ask Shikamaru to come join us." Hinata nodded shyly, sending an embarrassed glance in Naruto's direction. Kiba and Naruto, the loud ones of the bunch, exclaimed their affirmations while Sakura hit them over the head, Ino scowled, and Shino looked on without any discernible interest.
"Shush!" Ino whispered harshly. "Just look." She thrust a finger in the direction of Shikamaru, who was sitting on the damp, lively grass instead of laying. He appeared to be furiously scribbling in a notebook, occasionally looked up for a brief moment before directing all his attention on the papers in his lap. "He's actually doing something. We can't interrupt him."
Naruto seemed to relent. "He does look kind of focused."
Kiba nodded his agreement. "Maybe he finally got some motivation?" A sly smirk crawled on his face, a sharp canine revealing itself. "Or maybe his mom bitched him out, and he's just trying to get his homework done ASAP?" Naruto gave a small chuckle while Sakura resisted the urge to hit him again.
"No, no, I'm positive he's not doing some homework." Ino stared at him unabashedly for a couple more moments before turning to face her friends. "Either way, we cannot interrupt him, got it?" She sent a glare to Naruto and Kiba before sweeping them away with her hands. "C'mon, let's go."
As the group started walking in the opposite direction, Shikamaru muttered under his breath. "Thank heaven." He took a prolonged pause and just looked at the papers in his hands. It still needed a lot of work, but for the moment he felt a pulse of pride surge through his body.
As a student that took his academics very seriously, Neji was prone to getting his homework done during his down-time. He was rather against waiting until he got home to his apartment to start it, so he worked up the habit of using every bit of his free time during the school day to finish his work. Though, seldomly, there were days where he'd much rather relax outside in the comfortable spring air and watch the birds fly overhead.
Briefly glancing to the window, his usually cold, stoic eyes latched onto a figure in the distance. Neji felt immediate envy when he saw the person assuming the very same position he wished to be in. Without a thought, he squashed that disastrous emotion and scrutinized the student more carefully. A low chuckle rumbled in Neji's chest, catching his friends around him by surprise.
"What's so funny, Neji?" The girl's voice was strong yet feminine. It held an air of power while still grasping the refinement of a woman. Neji had never found her voice as pleasant as he found it then.
"That boy," he said as way of answer, inclining his head to the figure on the other side of the window. Neji couldn't very well describe that the boy's ingenious of both getting work done and sitting outside had caused him to laugh. So he settled on such a vague response, eliciting confused expressions.
"Okay," Tenten said, drawling the word out while at the same time urging him on. She knew that was the only explanation she was going to get, but the curiosity was insatiable.
"Do not fret, Tenten," an energetic boy on her side said gallantly. His hair was cut in a strict line. His eyebrows were bushier than the forest of Eden, and his teeth sparkled as though cleaned with all-purpose bleach. "Neji will not be able to keep his happiness bottled up. Soon he'll be wrought with laughter and the desire to shout his youthful joy from the rooftops."
For probably the first time in history, Neji found himself laughing at Lee's excited words. The thought of him yelling from the rooftops about his desire to be in the springtime air posed a funny envisage. Allowing the rare laughter to pass, he sought another look at the boy in the grass. He seemed to be working; although, it looked more to Neji that he was only staring at his lap and taking periodic breaks to stare at the cloudy sky.
A sudden thought struck him. That boy reminded him of someone the second time Neji laid eyes on him. Abruptly he knew whose physique and general image that boy's fit. He was distinctly similar to Shikamaru Nara, the underclassman he met roughly five days ago. If that boy was Shikamaru, then this might be his only chance to get the piano piece by that superb composer.
He roughly stuffed all his papers and books inside his bag and threw a hasty "I need to go" in the direction of his friends. He felt their eyes follow him as he briskly walked out of the classroom, but he focused solely on the anxiety surging through his veins.
Fifteen minutes later, Neji was less then twenty feet away from the boy. He was pleased when he recognized the now-slumbering boy to be the Shikamaru he bumped into in the hallways. A smirk adorned his normally passive expression as he closed the distance between them. When he stood beside the boy, his figure creating a shadow upon the other's relaxed body. Neji saw two eyes lazily stare back at him. Apparently, Shikamaru had been watching the clouds, not sleeping.
"I'm glad I found you." He got a bored look in return.
Neji thought of something to say, but was left empty-handed. He was not built for conversation. He didn't have many interesting tones or expressions, and he lacked the ability to keep small talk going. He only knew how to politely compliment the more wealthy people, as those fickle conversations were the ones he grew up around. But this boy, Shikamaru, didn't respond like those haughty snobs. And he couldn't speak to him mechanically like he normally did to his friends.
Neji strangely felt the desire to carry out a decent talk with the boy laying at his feet. Too bad he was clueless.
"May I sit here?" He gestured to the spot beside the junior. Once he received a disinterested nod, he settled down onto the cool grass, relaxing against the feel of the air brushing his face.
"I suppose you want that piano piece?" Shikamaru said, covering his mouth as he yawned. Neji heard him grumble under his breath but only caught key phrases like "interrupting my cloud-gazing" and "troublesome."
Neji prepared to nod or speak the affirmative, but instead he smiled slightly when he saw a bird fly overheard and said, "Later." He turned to look at Shikamaru to gauge his reaction, hoping that hadn't offended the boy he was relying on to get him the perfect piano piece. He was pleasantly surprised, however, to find Shikamaru with wide eyes before he eased back into the ground and returned his gaze to the clouds. A barely noticeable quirk of the lips on Shikamaru's face didn't manage to escape Neji.
And that was that. They simply comforted in their positions and watched the sky. The silence was peaceful and calming, not like the awkward silence Neji had been preparing for. It felt nice. Neji let himself fall back onto the grass, lying next to the lazy student. His pale eyes left the darkening sky for a moment to look at his companion.
It was odd, he decided, to ignore his work in favor of lying next to a boy he had only once talked to. But it felt good. The sky was slowly losing its color, and Neji had originally come to Shikamaru with a purpose. He had spent much too long on this grassy field. The time to strike up a conversation to get that brilliant work of art had come.
If only his brain listened to him.
"What's your major, Shikamaru?" Neji rarely felt interested in another person's life, so he indulged himself in this curious emotion. Knowing a little bit more about Shikamaru wouldn't do any harm.
"Music Composition," he replied blandly. Though his eyes stayed glued to the sky above them, he didn't seem opposed to the conversation. "What's yours?"
"Music History," Neji said automatically. "Many people find that topic quite boring, but I think the process of music's creation and the different styles' upbringings are rather interesting."
"It's probably more boring for the professors to teach it than for the students to learn it." Shikamaru snuck a glance at the senior lying beside him. It was strange to have a companion simply lie with him for hours. He would not have expected it from his closest friend let alone from Neji Hyuuga. It wasn't too troubling, though, so he had no qualms against it.
"I suppose that could be true. Do you like Music Composition?"
"The classes are terrible. All my professors are assholes. But, sometimes, when I get into it, I like to write piano pieces. But I rarely do, so my major sucks most of the time." Shikamaru sounded so genuinely unappeased Neji couldn't fight the small laugh at the other's honest answer. He finished his unusual case of laughter to hear Shikamaru say his name softly. "What motivates you to play the piano?"
"Motivates me?" Neji was befuddled by such a question. He was no idiot, he knew motivation drove most people to become passionate about something, but he never thought it when referring to himself. He had always played the piano, with or without a drive to do so. He sat up quickly, shifting his body to face his underclassman. "I play simply because I like to."
"No, I mean... Every decision you make, even if it's to do nothing, is chosen because of some sort of motivation. Why do you play the piano so earnestly? Why do you want a really good piece to perform to distinguish yourself?" Shikamaru's eyes bored directly into his own, making a shudder reverberate down his spine.
He lifted his head to the sky. When he thought about it, such a question sounded much too personal for a boy he'd barely met to be asking him. It was the first time someone took interest, though, and that thought felt blessed. Neji took some deep breathes, trying to reconstruct his jumbled thoughts before answering.
"I was young when I took up piano playing. I was probably around the age of eight. I had learned to play solely for the purpose of proving myself to my uncle. I had... lost my family, and he had taken me in. He was a good surrogate father, I suppose, but at that time I despised him. I was viewed as the black sheep of the family, and becoming a pianist was the only decent plan I had created to be accepted by that family. You could say I was fueled by the desire to be seen as who I truly was and not just my uncle's pathetic nephew.
"And then, many years later, that changed. I had met a man who knew next to nothing about playing the piano, but he knew enough about human nature. He told me – in none too kind words, mind you – that such a beautiful instrument should not be played for such hideous, selfish reasons as mine. It took much verbal violence on his part to get through my stubbornness, but I finally understood what he meant. I was grateful; however, I never once expressed my gratitude.
"Now, I play for a different reason entirely. I play because I like the piano. I like the feeling I get when I place my hands on those ivory keys. I love the soft vibrations that resonate in the piano's structure. I can just relax and feel content when playing the piano. It may sound quite effeminate, but I assure you, such a feeling could turn the brashest of men into a blubbering baby." Instantly after finishing his explanation, a bright flush enveloped Neji's entire face. Shikamaru couldn't help but laugh at how cute it was to see even his ears turn pink as he stumbled out a few choice words. "Oh, I just went on and on, huh? I'm sorry about that, really."
"Maa, it's alright. Actually sounded nice. Almost makes me want to take up piano playing." Shikamaru sat up, scratching his head with one hand as the other held his torso up.
"What motivates you to be a composer?" Neji inquired quietly, still trying his hardest to remove the blush from his face.
"Nothing," Shikamaru answered easily.
Neji shot a quick glare at the junior. "What was it you said, 'Even if you do nothing, it was chosen by some form of motivation'?"
"Actually, no," he shot back, obvious amused.
"Well, excuse me for being unable to remember your statement word for word. The idea remains the same. You still have to have some motivation to do nothing, right? It's only fair if you share your motivation with me as I did mine." Neji watched expectantly.
"Life's not fair, Neji." He let out a long, suffering sigh. "But, I guess it's common courtesy. I don't do anything because I'm, well, not the bravest guy in the world." At Neji's confused look, he braced himself for the worst.
"You mean to say you're a coward?" Shikamaru shrugged half-heartedly. "What are you afraid of, then?"
"Mainly extremes, I guess. Of being extremely happy or being extremely sad. I guess extremely anger fits into that category too. I'd rather just take my time with life and let it drift past me. Like the clouds. They have no worries in the world; they don't have to experience any extreme emotions or bothersome relations." The hand scratching his head fell into his lap, joining the other.
"Why don't you want to feel extreme emotions? I mean, sadness and anger I understand, but what's so bad about being extremely happy?"
"Maa, it's not the emotions I'm scared of, really." Shikamaru sighed into the sky before flopping back down to the ground. "I'm afraid of the after-effects. Every cause has an effect. My anger could be the downfall of someone. My sadness could be infectious and depress my friends. My happiness could make me lose sight of things that actually matter and end up ruining a lot of things."
"Well, good to know fear motivates you to be an invalid," Neji said, a small smile on his lips to show his obvious attempt at lightening the mood. Shikamaru was partially grateful for the change in atmosphere. "But what motivates you to compose music?"
"Normally I'm not motivated, so I don't. Thus why my major completely sucks ass." He placed his hands behind his head, scanning the nighttime sky for the first star. "But, lately, I have been motivated by..." The quiet comment trailed off, but Neji felt it was a statement he was not supposed to press. So he let it slip.
Rising to his feet, Neji lowered a hand to Shikamaru. Once the contact was made, he hauled the boy to his feet. Shikamaru nodded his thanks before meandering to his bag and searching through it. He pulled out some sheet paper and handed it to Neji. "Here's another piece. I went through a lot of trouble for that thing, so feel grateful."
"Thank you, Shikamaru." Neji knew smiling was soon becoming a habit from the many times he had already allowed it. However, he couldn't stop his lips from twitching upward for the umpteenth time that day. "If you're walking in the direction of the east wing, would you like to join me?" It seemed like an innocent request, but from Shikamaru's strangely flushed face, it was not taken as such.
"Yeah, sure." Shikamaru slung the bag over his shoulder and avoided the other's gaze. Neji found that oddly endearing.
The two figures in the distance looked very familiar to Shikamaru, but he couldn't be bothered trying to recognize them. It was much too dark, and the nice breeze had abruptly turned into chilly winds. Neji seemed unaffected by the change in temperature, but Shikamaru had already categorized Neji as a stoic guy with a stick up his ass, much like Shino. (Albeit Shino was more of a passive-type than a bastard-type.)
As they drew even closer to the figures, Shikamaru had turned his head to stare at the sky. He had had enough of talking. Even if he knew the two people, he wasn't in the mood to stop and chat.
"Neji, is that you?" a meek voice met their ears. Only one person Shikamaru knew had such a shy, docile voice.
"Hinata, what are you doing here so late?" Neji replied, voice uncharacteristically kind.
"Relax, Neji, I was with her the whole time." That voice was boisterous and loud, and Shikamaru recognized it in an instead.
"Is that supposed to placate me, idiot?" The senior's tone was cold, but no where near as cold as Shikamaru suspected it could be.
"Gahh, Neji, you're so annoying. She was just worried because your friends said you were acting weird and you weren't answering your phone." Naruto glared at the calm man, immediately getting in a fighting stance and shoving his fist toward Neji's face.
"So you decided it was a smart idea to come back to the university and wait for me? Did you even know for certain that I was still at the school?" Neji glared right back, and his was much more intense than his opponent's. "And you better remove your fist from my face unless you intend to fight me."
"It was her idea!" Naruto exclaimed, using both of his hands to pull at his hair. "You're such an annoying bastard."
Neji smirked victoriously. "How insulting." He looked directly at Naruto, his smirk widening. "I find it strange that Kiba did not escort her to the school. I can only guess you volunteered to do so. But why would you do that?" A slim, pale finger tapped his chin as he teased the blond.
Shikamaru watched with a faintly surprised look; he had thought the Hyuuga rarely showed emotion. Yet there he was, teasing his – their – fire-cracker friend.
"It couldn't be that you're out of instant ramen, could it?" Neji asked, smirk overwhelming his face.
Naruto grumbled angrily before saying, "Yes, I'm out of ramen, bastard."
Neji gave a short, brisk chuckle. "I'm not buying you ramen, Naruto." He waited for the blond to match his gaze with a glare before continuing. "But, you're in luck, I still have some of those cups from when you stuffed my pantry full of them. They're most likely very old, but I suppose you don't care, do you?"
In an instant, a blond blur attached itself to Neji in a tight hug. "Thank you!" He exclaimed, elongating the phrase to show his amplified amount of joy.
Patting the head of hair, Neji turned to the timid girl standing to the side of them. "Hinata, would you like to join us? I'll be sure to make some edible food." Soon the giant human teddy bear had rounded on now-blushing Hinata and was coercing her to tag along and have some ramen with him. Neji looked in the other direction, catching Shikamaru watching the scene with mild interest. "You're welcome to join as well, Shikamaru."
"Whaa? Shikamaru's here? Where?" Naruto left Hinata's side to search for his friend. Upon finding him, he sent the lazy student a shit-eating grin and waved excitedly. "You should come, Shikamaru! Neji has tons of food."
Shikamaru gave a shrug, placating the blond. Once Naruto returned his attention to the lavender-haired girl, Shikamaru strolled up to Neji. In a quiet voice, so as to not be heard by the other two, he asked, "Is Naruto the man that made you change your motivation?"
Neji's eyes widened fractionally, but Shikamaru caught it. "What makes you think that?"
"You looked much more comfortable around him. He's close friends with Hinata, who is your relative, right? And you actually acted more... humanly." Shikamaru knew they were frivolous points, but he was curious. Neji didn't appear to have many friends, but someone who had drastically changed the man's life would surely be someone Neji kept a friend.
A sigh caught his attention. "You're rather perceptive, I'll grant you that." He looked at Shikamaru, and he felt those light eyes searching his own. For what he did not know. "Yes, he is. Why do you care?"
Shikamaru broke the eye contact at that and said in a voice softer than a whisper. "I don't know. Just a little jealous." He looked back at Neji and said, "Tell Naruto I couldn't make it. I'm gonna go."
Neji didn't bother to stop him or give him a farewell of any kind. He could only hear those troublesome words repeating in his mind as the junior left. When he was out of sight, Neji let out a breath that had been held captive in his chest for who knows how long. He stared at the back he could no longer see and asked himself, "Jealous over what?"
Finger touch white keys lightly, lovingly, not unlike one would touch a lover. The pale, cream color contrasted with the stark white of the ivory keys. The massive piano emanated powerful notes full of emotion and spirit. The player kept his back rigid, eyes focused, and fingers curled above the keys.
Days had passed with neither hide nor hair of Shikamaru Nara. That could very well be because Neji had not sought him out. After receiving the masterpiece he instantly fell in love with, he had given every second of his free time to acquaint himself with it. It had been a week since he got the material; his performance was in two. Already his fingers remembered the piece note for note. But he continued to work on the crescendos and decrescendos, the accents, the different keys and time signatures, and the emotion. In time, they would all be memorized and performed splendidly, but the emotion troubled Neji.
The first time he laid eyes on the piece, he was overwhelmed with joy. He thought the vibrant timing and the vivid notes to be an envisage of a happy painting. Even the first couple of times he played it, the joy in the song was unmistakable. As he grew closer and closer to the piece, though, Neji felt a distinct sense of bitterness. The introduction was happy and bright as always, but quickly it turned sour and the piece held a sad, cynical tone. It was no longer the celebrated, spring day. It had changed into an actual story, moving from happiness to sadness to fear to anger. The piece completed a perfect circle, ending in happiness, and the first time Neji experienced all those emotions in that one song he was spent from the exhaustion of such sensations.
The person who composed that piece, Neji mused silently to himself, could be nothing short of a genius.
Neji longed to know the name of such a person. The piece slumped on the piano stand in front of him was without a name, a common trait it seemed for the masterpieces of this unknown genius. It angered him, sometimes, to think Shikamaru was purposely keeping the name of such a mastermind to himself. But at the thought of the junior, he forced himself to evacuate that emotion from his body. If there was any feeling he should have toward that boy, it was gratitude.
Neji also ignored the sensation of puzzlement at the thought of Shikamaru. He was no closer to solving the enigma that was Shikamaru's parting words. It was something he wished to push to the dark caverns of his mind. Thinking about those words only distracted him from practicing more for his upcoming performance. Some days, however, his subconscious won his inner battles and begged him to resolve the issue. Every time he tried, though, he would end up believing those words were some sort of flattery or confession. But the idea of Shikamaru having any sort of interest in him, platonic or not, was positively absurd.
Of course, it being absurd didn't stop the small swell of mirth build inside him. Obviously, many people had had crushes on him, whether fleeting or still on-going. But the thought of a guy like Shikamaru, a lazy junior with a lack of enthusiasm who had both helped Neji and possibly befriended him, being infatuated with him, or frankly interested in him, made Neji feel almost special. It made him feel elated to have someone he had accepted as a companion to feel envious of Naruto's impact on his life.
Shikamaru wanted to make an impact on his life, just as Naruto had. That was the only conclusion Neji could grasp from his parting words. Such an elementary thought brought a smile to his face as his fingers replanted themselves on the beginning keys. A pleasant beginning to a powerful song filled the room.
Neji was at a loss for words. In front of him stood a handful of people wishing him good luck. In no more than thirty minutes, Neji was to go onto the stage in front of thousands of fellow students and perform his piano piece. He had practice rigorously for that moment, those few minutes of fame, but he wouldn't argue that the nerves were eating at his ease. Having his friends encouraging him and reassuring him did nothing to soothe his anxiety.
Lee and Tenten patted him on either shoulder. "You're going to do great, Neji. You could probably make mistakes left and right, and it'd still sound great." Tenten seemed to realize her error and cringed, plastering a tense smile on her face. "I didn't mean to say you'd make mistakes or any–"
"Neji, you are a spirited and talented piano player! You will undoubtedly perform to your highest abilities and motivate the thousands of audience members to express their enthusiasm in such a way as yours!" Lee's ever-present optimism pertaining to his fellow peers' youthful nature didn't appear to help Neji at all. If anything, the mention of the vast number of viewers pushed him in the opposite direction.
Naruto laughed colorfully from behind Tenten and Lee. "Relax, Neji! It's not like this is your first show." Neji's tense shoulders visibly relaxed at that comment. It was true. He had done many performances before this one, and all had gone beautifully.
"He's right, Neji," his meek cousin agreed from her spot beside the blond. Her words were soft and stuttered, barely heard over the loud buzzing of the students gathering in the auditorium. "You'll do great; we all know it."
At her compliment and kind words, Neji sighed silently. His nerves were still jittery. But he knew the moment he stepped out on that stage, the unease would melt away. He could ignore everything else then and lose himself in the majestic beauty of song.
Pale eyes turned to glance at Shikamaru Nara, the last of the small group and the only one who had yet to say anything. Shikamaru caught his look with a lazy expression before granting him a small grin. Before he could say anything to Neji, though, the others suggested they take their seats, so as to assure they'd get a decent view of the stage. Each friend gave Neji some parting words ere leaving to enter the auditorium. To Neji's surprise, Shikamaru was the last to stand in front of him.
"Aren't you going with them?" Neji inquired, hoping he didn't sound as rude as the wording did. Being around the Nara didn't help his anxiety any; in retrospect, it seemed to cause a fluttering, unwelcome feeling to reside in his abdomen.
"Thought I'd wish you luck before I did," he replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders. He looked to be unaffected by the pianist's obvious fidgeting.
Never one to beat around the bush, Neji stared directly at Shikamaru, asking silently for serious response to his next question. "Shikamaru, why did you say you were jealous of Naruto? Do you mean say you want to make an impact on my life?" He watched carefully for any visible reaction from the junior. He only saw a flicker of amusement in those chocolate eyes.
"Maa, yeah, I guess, because, whether I wanted you to or not, you–" he paused, as if searching for the correct word, "–inspired me recently. I just wanted to return the favor." An almost shy look crossed his features, but Neji was unaware of it. He only heard the junior's reasoning echo in his mind before a brilliant smile overturned his lips.
"Thank you, Shikamaru." Neji saw his smile being returned and felt the fluttery sensation in his stomach pause.
Eyes closed, back rigid, and arms slack, Neji relaxed all his muscles. Only ten more minutes until he had the opportunity to play that phenomenal piece. Unfortunately, his meditation was interrupted by the producer of the recital. A petite, figureless woman with short, black hair stumbled over to him and spoke in a hushed voice.
"Before you start to play, you need to introduce your piece. There's a microphone at the front of the stage, just speak into that. Okay?" She received a nod. "Good." And with that she was gone.
Neji groaned inaudibly. An introduction to his piece? It had neither a title nor a composer. How was he to introduce it without the basic necessities? He couldn't very well request Shikamaru to meet him again just to find out those details. He briefly pondered if he should fabricate that information out of the blue or say something vague like "I will be performing a piece that will leave you wanting more." Both were terrible ideas. But he only had a maximum of ten minutes to think up an introduction.
Then, as he started recalling all the names of brilliant composers he knew, memories flooded his mind. But he was not granted view of the entire memory, only choice parts of each conversation.
"What is this composition for?" "I can find another piece by him for you. You'd have to give me a couple of days, though." "What's your major, Shikamaru?" "But, lately, I have been motivated by..." "Do you mean to say you want to make an impact on my life?"
"It's for my class."
"Music Composition."
"Maa, yeah, I guess, because, whether I wanted you to or not, you
When the epiphany finally came and went, Neji felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it sooner. All this time, he'd been given clues left and right, and he'd paid no mind to them. Concealed within the reprimands he was giving himself, a pulse of gaiety pumped through his veins. He had been the key motivation for the laziest guy he had ever met to compose such a beautiful masterpiece. That felt good, he decided, and let a cocky grin tweak his lips.
"Neji," the producer hissed at him, "you're up! Knock 'em dead!" She sent him a smile before gesturing him to take the stage. Even with a light feeling in his head, a lively feeling in his heart, and a fluttery feeling in his stomach, he did as he was bade and stepped out underneath the bright lights.
He could not see the faces in the audience clear enough to recognize them, and simply staring out into the audience made him want to groan in pain. Squinting his eyes might have helped the headache he got from staring in the direction of the blinding lights, but he refused to make such a look. Instead he walked up to the microphone, the picture of nonchalance, and spoke with a succinct yet passionate voice.
"The piece I will be performing for you is without a title. It is also without a famous composer. Rather, a–" he quickly thought of a epithet for Shikamaru, and could think of nothing acceptable other than the basics, "–friend of mine wrote this specifically for me to perform. I am incredibly indebted to Shikamaru Nara for gracing me with his masterpiece."
If his speech was melodramatic, Neji made no sign that he cared. He languidly moved to the piano and perched upon the jet black seat. He straightened his posture impeccably so, curled his fingers over the beginning notes, and closed his pale eyes. The silence of the auditorium was tangible before Neji began to play.
When Neji left the building a couple hours later, he was instantly greeted by his friends. They had yet to notice him drawing closer to them. Instead each seemed to be harassing Shikamaru for one reason or another. The only phrase he heard before he made his presence known was "You actually wrote that piece?"
Naruto, strangely enough, was the first to notice him. Immediately Neji found himself enveloped by the vibrant blond. He patted Naruto's head awkwardly before nudging his friend to kindly remove himself from Neji's personal space. When he was allowed his own bubble again, he was greeted by a toothy grin.
"You did awesome, Neji!" Naruto cheered, his smile no less blinding than the summertime sun. The rest of the group gave their chorused agreements, complimenting him ardently. He bowed his head in thanks, smiling briefly before slipping into his normal expression of apathy.
Lee clapped him on the back as Tenten claimed they had to go out for celebratory drinks. No more words needed to be said; the group was instantly walking away from the school. Neji lagged behind inconspicuously, matching his pace to Shikamaru's and falling into a comfortable silence with his companion, if only for a moment.
"How'd you know I wrote it?" Shikamaru's voice was suspicious while still retaining that infamous bored tone.
"You left me so many clues, I'm almost ashamed I didn't realize it sooner." Neji chanced a glance at the man he walked alongside. His eyes were bright, though his expression was blas
"I'm not sure I'm glad you realized at all." Shikamaru's hands were shoved in his pockets, and his back was seemingly uncomfortably slouched, but his eyes were attracted to the sky.
"I am," Neji said easily. "I'm impressed by how much of a exceptional composer you are." His words were truthful, and such an unguarded compliment sounded weird to Shikamaru's ears.
"Thanks." There was an awkward pause. Shikamaru stayed silent for a moment; Neji followed his example. Two pairs of eyes met, oblivious to their group of friends walking further and further away. "I wouldn't mind writing you more pieces," Shikamaru said, averting his eyes to the ground. "If you'd want to play them, that is." This uncertain, questioning side of the junior was definitely a sight to behold. Neji smirked.
"I'll be looking forward to it." The simple phrase made chocolate eyes snap to pale ones. One look at Neji's smirk and Shikamaru understood. A blatant challenge was gleaming in those eyes; their paces simultaneously increased. "Your place or mine?" Neji quipped playfully. Shikamaru's eyes widened before recognizing the question as a joke and snorting.
"Your place, obviously," Shikamaru replied. His hand reached up to brush against Neji's soft tresses. "If your looks are anything to go by, I'm betting you're just as anal retentive as a woman." His wide grin didn't lessen when he was elbowed in the gut. And as the teasing and playful bickering continued, neither noticed their paths gravitate closer and closer to each other.
Notes: Oh my dear Lord, it's done. Thank heaven! That took me wayy too long to write. Me goodness. I hope you liked it though. It was a pretty lame idea, I know, but it was partly fun to write. Tis really hard to get these two together with their lack of communication and Neji's stick-up-the-arse attitude. :D
So, please, feel free to revieww! (: They brighten up my day and make me feel those silly butterflies dance in my stomach.