disclaimer: i own nothinggg.
notes: just angsty-friendship dabble w' shikaino if you squint. (; please review, & check out my other shikaino stories! thanks.
visionary dreams
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xoxo
"I'm not scared anymore," Ino announces in the overwrought atmosphere. A fog hung in the dense forest, where their campgrounds were for the night.
Shikamaru gazes into the crackling fire, watching the red flames go up and down, moving in every direction as the wind blew around the ones left of Team 10.
Redredred.
That's all Shikamaru felt he saw anymore.
Anger. Death. Revenge. War.
Shikamaru looked down at his hands, seeing blood stain every inch, and coat his palm in dry red blood, caked into his fingernails. He blinked roughly a couple times, his breathing ragged as he now stared at his clean, tan hands. But they weren't clean, not really.
"Scared of what, Ino?" Chouji asks quietly, a bag of chips in his hands. Some things would never change and as Ino turned to stare at Chouji with an almost mechanical expression, he knew her answer, because he wasn't scared any more either.
"Death," she spoke clear, her bright blue eyes sparkling from the light off the small fire. "If I die fighting, I died for something I stood up for; protecting." She thought about Asuma, her daddy, and Shikamaru's dad as she said this. Her heart ached, and her eyes stung. It seemed like they were so much older than they were. Fighting in a war that no one seemed to be winning.
Shikamaru sat quiet beside Ino—something he does more so these days, and as his tan fingers softly reached for Ino's it wasn't a shock when her's found his just as desperately.
Chouji couldn't help but sigh from the other side of Ino. He missed the days with Asuma and simple missions and the light-heartiness of their younger days. The days before he learned about what it meant to have someone else's blood on his hands, before he knew what death and chaos and war meant.
Everything had changed, people—love ones have died, and there was a chance they could die any second.
"Guys," Chouji starts slowly, gazing into the fire, "I love you." And he doesn't care how soft or ridiculous he may sound because he means it. The days were getting longer and bloodier and either one of his teammates could perish to this horrible war.
Ino doesn't like the tears prickling in her eyes, but kami, she was tired of fighting, tired of killing, tired of the nauseating feeling of worry that Shikamaru or Chouji may die because they were her boys, her rock. They were Team 10, and damnnnit, they had to stay alive for her, for Asuma. She got this far because of them, because of their unending powerful bond as teammates and friends.
"I love you guys too," Ino says, and this time she her other hand seeks out Chouji's. "Please don't ever forget that."
"Stop that," Shikamaru finally speaks, his voice hoarse, knocking shoulder's with Ino's, "We're not dying, we got this and we're going to win this and we're going to get through this together as Team 10."
Chouji can't help but laugh because honestly, that was the most Shikamaru had said in a long time, and as he sees the smiles on his friends faces, he felt content for the first time in months.
Ino let out a giggle, throwing her back, and put her arms around both of her boys, pulling them in close.
"After this is all over, you two are taking me out to a fancy dinner!"
"Ooooo, can we get barbeque?!"
"Troublesome…"