Selfish, by Charcoal Heart
Rated M for language, mature themes, etc.
ShikaNaru

"To be an artist is to be selfish. That means pushing away everyone you love," Shikamaru tells me, "But I don't want to push you away. I want to do what I love and love you too."

A/N: Hey guys! I know this pairing is not as popular as the traditional Naruto&Sasuke pairing, but I love the dynamic between these two characters! My imagination ran, and this is what came of it!

I'm also experimenting a bit with writing styles in this one. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

And as usual, reviews are graciously appreciated but definitely not required. Just seeing the amount of visitors I get is enough to make me giddy! So please keep reading and I will try my best! :)

EDIT: I have made the version in adherence to the site's regulations. As such, I have posted the full-length story (with the goody bits and all) on my Tumblr at sumi-shinzou! See you there!

I squint and cover my eyes as I look up at the sky. It is a little past three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun is shining brightly against a clear, blue canvas. I had just exited the arts building and just spent the last five hours in my studio art class.

"Ah, I'm hungry," I muse to myself as I put a paint-covered hand over my stomach as it growls.

I shift the messenger bag slung over my shoulder and head towards the dining hall. But instead of heading straight inside, I walk around to the side of the building and pull out a pack of cigarettes from my back pocket.

"Hey, mind spotting me one?"

I recognize the guy who asks to bum a cigarette from me. He is from my studio class, but as far as I know, this guy was never intent on creating art. The few times I've looked over at his station, seldom was there any real work going on. He always claimed to be "gathering inspiration" during class.

I don't really know him, but I reluctantly stretch out my hand and let the guy grab a stick. I pull out a lighter from my jeans pocket and light up my "guest's" before firing up my own. After stashing the plastic lighter and cigarette pack back into my bag, I lean up against the wall and inhale through the cigarette deeply, giving little regard to the other guy.

"Thanks," the guy says to me as he leans against the wall as well, "I just finished my last one during studio. You're in my class, right?"

I nod and respond, "I'm Naruto, by the way."

"Shikamaru."

The introduction is informal, but I wouldn't want it any other way. Shaking hands would be weird and unsanitary, anyway, seeing as how my hands are covered in possibly toxic materials.

I continue to smoke through the cigarette and take in steady inhales until I finish it. This smoke session leaves my mind blank, void of any external thoughts. I throw down the butt and snuff it with the toe of my shoe. I put my hands in my pockets and look over to Shikamaru, who also throws down his own cigarette remnant.

"Thanks again," he says to me as he walks off, "I'll be sure to owe you one next time."

Though I am sure he probably won't keep to his word, I nod. It's the thought that counts, after all.

He heads into the dining hall, but I feel strange following him into the building. Instead, I decide to take a nice, long lunch at the local noodle shop before my art history class.

oooOOooo

I'm late for class because my lunch break ended up lasting a little longer than I planned.

I walk into the small lecture room and groan quietly; all of the seats in the front are taken. The only seats left are situated in the very back row, which has only one person. To my displeasure, I shimmy down the last row and sit down a seat away from the other person.

"Didn't know you were in this class too."

I look over and realize the person sitting in my row is actually Shikamaru. He doesn't give away any particular expression on his face, but I can tell that he is amused at the coincidence of the situation by the way he lifts an eyebrow at me.

"Small world," I respond as I shrug.

Shikamaru lets out a low chuckle and looks forward at the projection screen, as do I. Our male, brunette professor stands up front and talks about the painting on the screen.

"In many of his paintings, Cezanne played with perspectives and brush strokes. This particular work, called The Basket of Apples, demonstrates his experimentation of visual perception..."

It's difficult to pay much attention, especially since I am sitting in the back. The numerous silhouettes of heads block my view from seeing the screen properly. I sigh and don't even bother to take my notebook out from my bag. Instead, I pull out a sheet of paper and begin doodling all over the small, blank space.

Shikamaru looks over at me - I can see him from the corner of my eye - and takes out a piece of paper as well. He starts sketching something, but I'm not sure what. I can see the fluidity and swiftness of his hand as it flies across the paper, the pencil in his hand embedding its graphite onto the page.

I go back to doodling on my paper, trying to pay as little attention as I can to the action going on next to me.

Before I know it, class ends, and unlike the other times in class, I pack my things and hurry out of the room. Normally I would stay behind and chat with my professor, but this time, I don't feel right talking to him when I was not paying attention to his lecture.

"Hey Naruto," Shikamaru calls after me as he leaves the room as well, "I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to study together for the next quiz, since we didn't actually pay attention during class."

I am thoroughly surprised that he asks me this. I don't know anything about his studying habits, but I find myself not entirely rejecting the idea. I shift my bag on my shoulder and shrug.

"Sure. Do you want to study now or later?"

Shikamaru looks up, as if to look back towards his brain for the proper answer. He hums a few bars of a song I recognize, then shrugs.

"If you're free, we can start studying today. Are you living on-campus?"

I nod. He looks up again and purses his lips. Then he returns his gaze to me.

"I live off-campus, in an apartment by myself. We'll have plenty of room to study, if you want to go there. And if you're comfortable enough to follow some guy you just met back to his place."

I roll my eyes. His concern is rather endearing, but I shake my head in incredulity.

"I'm a big boy. I think I can handle myself. Let's go to your place."

oooOOooo

I look around Shikamaru's place in wonder. How is he able to pay for all this? How could he afford a place like this in the first place?

My shoes are off and I'm standing in the living room, my toes wiggling and appreciating the plushness of the cream-colored carpet underneath. I sit down on the couch and realize it does wonders for the tense muscles in my body. I relax and allow myself to sink into the cushions.

Shikamaru comes out of his bedroom. He goes into the kitchen and calls out to me.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Um, water would be good."

I wait a few moments before he comes out with a bottle of water. I take it graciously and uncap it before taking a large gulp of it. Shikamaru watches me drink and doesn't move from his spot. As I remove the bottle from my lips, he shakes himself out of his trance.

"So," I begin, breaking the discomforting silence, "you have a really nice place."

Shikamaru shrugs and takes a sip from his own water bottle - it's my turn to stare. He swallows the mouthful of water and swipes his tongue over his lips.

"I don't really care for the decoration, but there's plenty of room in the studio."

I look at him curiously and ask, "Studio? Can I take a look?"

The hesitance is clear on his face. He presses his lips into a thin line and takes yet another sip of water.

"Maybe next time. Let's get started with studying."

His hesitance gets my attention. And though I let him go for now, I make it a mission for myself to have a look in that studio at some point.

oooOOooo

I turn my head to the left and see that Shikamaru is absent from studio. His station is completely empty, and his supplies are nowhere to be seen. I then remember that he never does any work during class, so it would be strange to see anything laid out.

I turn away from the distraction and stare at the canvas before me.

It stares right back at me, the white expanse mocking me. The blankness irritates me, so I dip a fat brush into my red oil paint before smearing it across the canvas. I sigh, the presence of color calming my nerves.

I start working on the canvas slowly, thanking the heavens for the invention of oil paints. They dry relatively slower in comparison to water-based paints, so they are more patient with the artist.

The studio door opens and my eyes shift over. It is just our professor, who is usually late to our studio class. I look back at my work and sigh.

I realize that I am much more aware of my surroundings. It is all Shikamaru's fault. I feel slightly pathetic for blaming it all on a guy I met recently. All the same, his lack of presence makes me a bit anxious, and I scold myself for becoming school-girly about a man.

The preoccupation of my mind becomes all-too-obvious in my painting. The aggressive, hot colors on the canvas blend and meld together into a huge mess. The smell of the oil paint is getting to me, and I feel myself getting dizzy from inhaling the fumes.

I nod to my professor as I walk out, excusing myself to leave the room. As I walk down the hall towards the front door, Shikamaru turns the corner and his eyes widen at the sight of me. We both slow our paces and stop a few feet from each other.

"Hey," he greets.

"Hey," I reply.

"Taking a break?" he asks me simply.

"Yeah," I reply as I pull my cigarette pack out of my pocket, "I was going to take a smoke, actually."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Only if you have your own cigs this time," I say as I move past him.

The other male chuckles and follows after me. I assume he has his own cigarette pack this time.

We go outside and make sure to stay away from the front door. People always complain about the smoke.

Shikamaru flips his cigarette pack open and offers one to me.

"For the one I owe you," he says simply as he removes a cigarette for himself.

I look into his pack and see there is only one cigarette left.

"Thanks, but I can't take your last stick," I say to him.

I want to explain to him that it's the lucky stick, the last one in the cigarette pack. But I'm sure he's aware of the ritual; the cigarette is turned upside down, with the brown filter sitting at the bottom of the carton.

Shikamaru rolls his eyes. "If I didn't want you taking it, I wouldn't have offered it to you. Do you really believe in that 'lucky cigarette' bullshit?"

I shrug. "I can't say I actually believe it."

He gives me a look and I feel wrong refusing the cigarette now. Instead of thinking how wrong it is to take someone's lucky stick, I think of how credible Shikamaru is for sticking to his word.

Shikamaru lights up my cigarette for me and I take in a breath from my stick. The smoke is much different than the brand that I use, but it has a pleasant lingering taste each time I inhale. I clear my mind and almost forget that my mind was ever occupied by any solid thought.

I pause in my smoking for a moment, pinching the cigarette lazily between my fingers.

"Are you always this late for studio?"

Shikamaru removes his cigarette from his mouth, grins, and looks down at the ground as he rubs a hand on his neck. He looks ashamed, but I sense that he isn't really.

"I don't usually do anything during studio anyway."

"So what's the point of coming to class?"

"I think."

I stare at him in curiosity.

"For all those hours?" I ask him.

He turns to me and replies, "I work only when I'm in my own studio, but I get inspiration from being around people. Is that wrong?"

I look down at my cigarette and let it drop to the ground. Crushing it with my shoe, I exhale my last breath of smoke and put my hands in my pockets.

"Of course not. It's just an interesting way of using your studio time, that's all."

Shikamaru takes another inhale of his cigarette and gives me no reply. I plan to go back inside and take one last, large stretch of my entire body before I retreat. It feels refreshing, and I feel ready to tackle my canvas once again.

"You coming in?" I ask Shikamaru, who is still smoking his cigarette.

"Nah," he says, "I think I'm going to go back to my place and work in the studio."

I mean to ask him why he drove all the way to class, to not even end up going to class. But I hold my tongue and watch Shikamaru leave, who is still smoking his cigarette.

oooOOooo

"Hey Shikamaru, are you uncomfortable with showing off your art?" I ask him as I sit back on his couch.

Shikamaru is looking at his notes, which are sprawled all over the coffee table between us. His eyebrows furrow and he looks closer at the paper printout of Sisley's Under the Bridge at Hampton Court. He stares at the artwork for a bit longer before his eyes meet mine.

"Not particularly. Why?"

"Well," I say as I shift in my seat to sit up, "I feel like you are, subconsciously."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"What would make you think I'm shy about my art?"

"Because you won't invite me into your studio."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not fucking shy about my art."

"Then let me see your studio."

There's a chance I have completely ticked him off. But with the shroud of mystery this guy has, it's hard not to prod him when I can. He gives me a strange look, almost as if I had just punched him in the gut.

I almost think that he will refuse again. But surprisingly enough, he gives me his signature nonchalant shrug.

"I guess. I haven't gotten around to cleaning it up though."

I snort as I stand up from the couch, "I don't think studios are meant to be clean."

Shikamaru grins and leads me out of the living room, past the kitchen, into the hall. We pass by a door on the right - the bathroom - and a door on the left - his bedroom.

At the very end of the hall, there is a frosted glass door. He pushes it open and we step inside. I stare wide-eyed and look all around the studio.

The walls are covered in random sketch papers, filled with lifelike sketches in all kinds of medium. There is a large table in the middle of the room, part of it lifted and propped up like a large easel. The piece of paper on the angled table has a large sketch on it, with very crude details and outlines of a man.

"Wow. No wonder you're studying art," I say lowly.

Shikamaru shrugs and walks over to a particularly detailed sketch of a naked woman. He rips it off the wall and reveals another sketch of another woman underneath it.

I yell out to him, "Hey, what's the big idea? That one was good!"

He puts down his water bottle on the table and huffs, "It's just a sketch."

I walk over and pull the crudely ripped paper from his hands, analyzing the sketch in great detail. The lines are done in pencil, in an almost careful manner.

"It's just a sketch? This is almost...lifelike! Do you not realize how good this is? at all?"

His frustration is clearly present as he huffs again, "It's just a fucking sketch, not the finished product, so stop nagging me. You sound like my mother."

He wrinkles his nose at the thought and turns his back to me to tear down some more sketches. I watch in disbelief as Shikamaru moves around his room, taking down seemingly arbitrary pieces of paper.

I still have the sketch of the naked woman in my hands. I glance down at it and then up at Shikamaru.

"If they're just sketches, then can I keep this one?"

Shikamaru spins around so fast I nearly jump back from being startled. His eyes narrow, and he turns back around, standing still.

"You can have it, but don't go framing it or anything. It's just a sketch."

I smile and hold on to the fragile sketch paper. I let Shikamaru continue his "cleaning" and stare at the revealed sketches as he pulls off the top ones. I notice that he has multiple sketches of different people, each in entirely different poses, clothed and unclothed.

"You had a lot of people pose for you," I observe.

"Yeah. Slept with most of them too."

I remain silent. Shikamaru turns around to face me again and grins.

"I'm half-kidding. I've slept with only a handful of them, actually. Men and women."

I wait for Shikamaru to tell me that's he's kidding again, but I get no further response.