"I don't understand why we're even back here, Shikamaru!"
Sighing, Shikamaru stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants and hiked them up. "I don't, either."
"You don't?" his mother cried. "You were the one who insisted on getting a new pair!"
"Mom, they're too big. Look at them."
Mrs. Nara continued walking. She did not look at her son, nor did she look at his pants, which now had a gaping hole in the back of the right leg, where he had tripped over them going to school a few days earlier. "You're a teenaged boy, Shikamaru! You'll grow into them!"
"They're falling off of me."
"Wear a belt!" she snapped back.
"I hate belts. They're so troublesome," he complained. "Plus, they made these pants bunch in the front."
"Don't wear the belt so tight, then!"
"I wasn't, Mom. I was wearing it normally. These pants are too big."
"Here," she said angrily, pointing to a row of racks. "Here are the pants, Shikamaru. Pick some out."
Shikamaru sighed again. He hated coming out with his mother. He hated shopping for clothes. All in all, this was a very hated outing for Nara Shikamaru. He picked up the first pair of pants on the rack, not bothering to look at the specific size, and held them out expectantly to his mother.
"Here."
"What, here?" she replied. "Do you expect me to try them on for you?"
"I'm not trying them on."
"Oh! So, you complain about the pants I buy you being too big, but you're finished as soon as you pick up the first pair that you see? You are just like your father!" She pointed a finger to the sign that mentioned the male dressing rooms. "Try them on."
Shikamaru blinked. "...What?"
"You heard me! Go and try them on!" She flicked expertly through the rack, pulling out a few more pairs of slacks and dark-wash jeans with the ease of a woman with years of shopping under her belt. "And take these in with you."
"What?" Shikamaru repeated as his mother loaded him down with the extra clothing. "Why? I just need a pair of pants."
"You have no nice slacks for when we have guests over. You need a pair."
"Mom, we never have guests over."
"Go try them on!"
Temari sighed as she threw yet another stack of polo shirts over her arm. What, did the entire Konoha Golf Team come here? Why were there so many? Did the collar not pop enough? Geez.
Straightening herself out, she grimaced as she felt her back crack. She hated this job. More importantly, she hated the shoes she had to wear for this job. No arch support at all.
"And come out once you've got something on!"
Temari turned her head to face the wall that separated her the room next to her.
"I can tell if they fit in here," the male voice, most likely the female voice's son, half-whined from inside the dressing room.
"I know that, Shikamaru, but I can tell better if they fit or not."
"I'm the one that's putting them on..." he mumbled from the room. Temari covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed quietly to herself before placing the last shirt over her arm.
"Goodness, Shikamaru, how long does it take you to put on a pair of pants?" his mother called. "Come out here, already!"
"Alright, alright. Son of a..." the lock clicked and the door creaked open, and Shikamaru took one step out of the dressing room and into the small hallway.
His mother's face screwed up at the sight of him. "Oi, Shikamaru! Are these the pants you so expertly picked out for yourself?"
"Yeah," he replied, warily eyeing his mother as she approached him. "What's wrong with them?"
"They're too small. You'll grow out of them too fast."
"Mom, I don't think I'm getting any taller," he said, swatting her hands away as she pulled up at his belt loops. "Mom! You're gonna give me a wedgie!"
"Hush!" she scolded, turning her son by the shoulders so his back faced the three-way mirror. "Looks at this! These aren't going to fit you for more than two months at the most! Look how tight they are on your rear!"
Shikamaru noticed the blonde girl exiting the dressing room next to his.
Shikamaru's mother chose that moment to grab a handful of the aforementioned rear.
Temari stopped dead in her tracks, face twisted into some unnatural state as she tried to hold her laughter in.
Shikamaru could not have been more embarrassed in his entire life.
Not even when Chouji accidentally pantsed him on the playground because he found out about the animal crackers in his pocket.
Maybe that was why he liked his pants a little on the snug side.
"M...Mom!" Shikamaru jumped away from the offending hand like it was hot fire.
Controlling her features, Temari stood calmly before Shikamaru and his mother, polos in arm, and said, "No, I think she's right. Unless you like that homosexual look."
Shikamaru could have choked. His face felt hot, and he was sure it was a very interesting shade of red at this point. "I'm not gay!" He managed to splutter out as she began to walk past him.
As she did so, Temari grinned. "Good to know," she replied, and winked in his direction. "I'll get you at the register when you're ready," she said very courteously to Mrs. Nara, taking her neat pile of polos and dumping them on the floor underneath all the rest of the tried on clothes.
Someone on the next shift could pick those up. Damn Golf Team.