"It doesn't feel good knowing I didn't get it on my own."
A single cigarette lingers on the side of his mouth, smoke dancing from it in airy ashes. Shikamaru is like that: a blade of grass that can't seem to go back home. I'm surprised, really, that he hasn't a cigar in his mouth. He's taken to those plumper things these days.
"Shika?" I rest a palm on his forehead. "I didn't get into the meeting with Tsunade-sama without help. Shika?" With his eyes closed, I can't even tell if he's listening. Whatever he thinks of me, I don't like nagging as much as I used to. I don't like most things I used to. I won't push him to reply, but I'll keep pushing words out my mouth. Empty. Empty. Empty. I want to be free and careless like we used to. "There was one time, you know," I almost giggle, "when Asuma--sensei stopped by the flower shop and picked, he picked these baby buds for Kurenai-sensei. I told him 'ah, I know who those are for!' He didn't turn around to face me, or anything, his back was to me, but I knew he was blushing red as a rose. You'd have thought all the steam from ramen went into his face. Eh...? I wonder if that memory..." No. Don't cry. Please Ino. I take my hand off Shikamaru. "Was it all meaningless...?"
"Ino?"
I sniff, wipe my nose. "Mm?"
"He loved you. And Chouji."
"Duh, Shika, I know. You were his favorite, but it's not like we were chopped liver."
His eyes open. He gazes at me for too long. I fiddle with the soil beneath us.
"Play," he says, "shogi with me sometime."
"Sure," I say, "but I don't know how."
"Have you ever fought with Sakura over who would be the best ninja?"
I roll my eyes. The answer is obvious. "Yes."
"Then you'll know how to play easy."
"I want you to come by the shop. I'll teach you the names of the new shipment of flowers that came in awhile back."
"Troublesome."
"Like shogi."
He smiles softly. "I'll be there Ino."
I stretch out my hand. "Hold it," I command, but it's the type of command I always give when we're alone: the flavor of request.
He sighs, he mumbles, but he embraces my palm in his. My friend, my teammate, is definitely an adult now. Yes, he's a lazy, cloud-loving, brilliant ninja.
His hand just swallows me up.