Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor am I making any kind of profit off of this piece. It's is purely fan interest and intellectual exercise.

Note: For the first time in this series, I am taking the artist's own words into account. If you want to read what the artist said about this piece please visit the image page at the following link:

Nooneym .deviantart art/ A-day-worse-than-others- 175284507

Also, this one isn't really a romance like all of the others had been, so if you are looking for big declarations, this isn't the one for you.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words: Story Thirteen

A Day Worse than Others

Naruto had decided a long time ago that it wasn't worth it to cry.

Crying never solved anything and the more you did it the worse it made you feel. Physically. Crying makes your eyes itchy and your nose run. It makes pressure build up in your head and welcomes the headache with open arms. It gathers in heat on your cheeks, which only compounds the pain in your head. If you are really going on a tear, it creates an ache in your chest as your breath heaves and your lungs burn and you gasp for air and it almost seems as though your body is trying to drown out the emotional pain that you had started with by giving your physical pain as an excuse. On more than one occasion as a child Naruto had found himself in a heap on the floor in front of a toilet having cried and heaved himself into physical sickness and loss of his latest intake of ramen. To him, crying just heaped more pain on top of already existing pain.

So he had stopped crying.

He would bite his lips. Curl his fists so tight that his nails tore into his palms and blood would drip to the floor below. Hold his breath until his lips turned blue and his vision swam. He would do anything he could to distract himself from the urge.

Because that pain was gone in a minute, and he was a ninja – physical pain was nothing.

He would stare directly into the sun or some bright light because someone had said once that it drove the tears away. He would wrench a smile into place and force a raucous laugh out of his mouth, smiling until his eyes clenched tight and no one would know that behind those lids he was fighting back tears.

Because tears were the enemy.

Tears were a sign of victory to his tormentors.

As each bead of the salty liquid slipped out of his eyes, another gold medal was placed upon their shoulders which would join ever growing piles the weight of which couldn't even come close to that of Naruto's own grief and despair.

When Sai had joined the team and didn't know how to smile it had struck a chord so strongly within Naruto that his own breathing had started to come in shallow and his hands had begun to shake.

Naruto was a master of the fake smile. So good at it in fact, that for a while he had even fooled himself. He had convinced himself that he didn't need those things that everyone else took for granted, he didn't need those weaknesses, because he was strong enough to not need them. And strength was happiness to him.

For a while he had really believed all of that.

What a fool he had been.

When the bomb had been dropped on him that Jiraiya had fallen in battle, it slammed into him so hard that he couldn't breathe. It was a physical blow. He had somehow convinced himself that the pervy sage was invincible. He was a Sannin dammit! Naruto had thought that he would be around forever and be there for all of those events in life that you are supposed to have family around for – marriage, family, promotion, finally taking the Hokage hat from baa-chan. And despite the lack of blood, Jiraiya had been family, the closest thing to a parental figure that he had ever had.

He couldn't get his mind around it at first because he knew just how good the man was. He'd taken a shot to the chest from Naruto in berserk 4-tail state and lived to tell the tale. And yet…he was gone.

No more claims of "research."

No more cackling laugh at Naruto's expense.

No more stealing the poor genin's wallet.

No more lessons.

No more shared popsicles.

No more fingers ruffled through the blonde's hair because the man just knew when Naruto needed that reassurance because that lonely little kid inside of him had reared its head again.

He'd had precious few adult figures in his life that he could look up to in a personal way. First there was the Old Man Hokage who had made time for the little orphan boy. Then there was Iruka-sensei who had found the strength within himself to look past the prejudices of the world to see the loud little blonde for what he really was: a lonely kid. Then there was Kakashi-sensei who trained Naruto and taught him the lessons that he needed to know in life to survive (yes, even when those lessons consisted of: You need to eat your vegetables). But all of that was divided attention. The Hokage had to care for the entire village. Iruka had to manage an entire class, many of whom were just as rambunctious as Naruto. And Kakashi had to teach the entire team, including the increasing worry for and finally the loss of Sasuke to the grip of Orochimaru.

But Jiraiya was his and his alone. A selfish part of Naruto resented that the only time he'd ever had that to himself, it was torn away from him. But that was a small thought that never lasted long and barely even registered to his conscious mind. Jiraiya was the one he wanted to show off to. All the other kids had their parents or relatives, but he'd always been alone. Maybe that's why he had clung so hard.

Iruka had helped that first night on that bench at the convenience store. As he had through other moments of hardship in Naruto's life, Iruka had tracked his favorite student down and given a few words of wisdom to aid the blonde. That had got him through the night.

But it was Shikamaru who had gotten Naruto through the days and weeks that followed.

Shikamaru who wasn't even on Naruto's team.

Shikamaru who thought everything was "too troublesome."

Shikamaru who usually thought Naruto was too troublesome.

And it was Shikamaru who had understood that it wasn't just kind words and an understanding shoulder that he needed, but a sharp reminder that the life that Jiraiya lived so fully, continued on in his student who needed to honor him by continuing his own life and passing it on to his own charges one day.

Shikamaru who had suffered the same pain of losing his precious sensei to the Akatsuki, but in his loss, helping Konoha gain the information that led to the defeat of his killer.

It was almost scary how similar they were in that respect.

So Naruto had hauled himself up and gripped that determination with iron will to improve and get better so that he would be able to protect those precious to him, so he never had to feel this pain again. And he trained and he fought and he gained Sage Mode and the acknowledgement of the village that had reviled him as a child. Now just that bit closer to his dream.

But that proximity only stuck home just what it meant to not have that spikey long white hair waiting at his side.

That's the thing about loss – it doesn't just go away. It doesn't just get better. It's something that one has to learn to live with, a little reminder every day that someone was there, had been important to you, and that you acknowledge that importance in your life as it has continued without them.

And it is rough getting to that point where you can think about the person you've lost and be able to smile again.

Naruto still hadn't quite reached it yet.

And some days were worse than others. Those days where everything around seems to remind him of the man.

He'd see an old man walking slightly behind a grandchild in the road and his heart would clench.

He'd see a pair of people snapping apart a shared Popsicle and his mouth would suddenly be bone dry.

He'd see a Jounin-sensei working with their Genin team and Naruto's limbs would tremble.

He couldn't even walk past the book seller anymore – not with the memorial sale that had been going on for weeks now with what stock had survived the village's destruction.

And some days it was too much.

The events of the day piled on top of a weary mind and body exhausted from dreams of the man at night and Naruto couldn't take it.

And that was when he would track down Shikamaru. He didn't need to say anything, Shikamaru could read him like a book. He would just go to wherever the lazy ninja was and sit there with him. If Shikamaru was working through paperwork, Naruto sat next to the desk. If the Nara was cloud-watching, Naruto laid down next to him. If Shikamaru was at home, Naruto didn't even have to knock.

It made him feel weak at times and worried that he was annoying his friend at others. But he needed it. He needed that calm and steady influence to keep his grip on the world because occasionally it felt like everything was spinning too fast and he was hanging on by the edge of his nails…and then he would find Shikamaru. Steady as a rock. And so Naruto would cling to him until his world stopped spinning. Like a junkie getting his fix, he would cry out his grief into the shoulder of one who would never mock him for the perceived weakness because he understood it all too well himself.

Because sometimes it was Shikamaru who was having a bad day.

He had hear Konohamaru wander past talking about growing out a beard like his Uncle.

He'd read Intel in a report reference previous village actions, including those of the late Asuma Sarutobi.

He had just walked Kuranai home from a doctor's appointment and had clenched in his hand a copy of an ultrasound image of the child his sensei would never see.

So sometimes when Naruto clutched him in tears, Shikamaru was clutching back just as tightly.

After their initial breakdowns, calmed by Shikaku and Iruka respectively, no one else never saw them react in anyway other than respectful mourning. They were thought to be handling the loss of their respective sensei well.

It was only when alone with each other that their precarious walls could come crashing down and everything that they had been stuffing down inside of themselves could come pouring out. No judgment, no side glances, just a pair of warm arms gripping back just as tight, simultaneously anchoring and freeing.

On that particular day, Shikamaru was okay.

But Naruto was not.

Nope.

That particular day saw Tsunade giving Naruto some of Jiraiya's things, things that had somehow survived the destruction of their village. It wasn't a lot, in fact it was only two things, an old journal filled with half-though musings of a teenager trying to keep sane in war and a photograph of the man with his own parents when he had graduated from the Academy. It wasn't a lot, but Naruto felt like he couldn't breathe.

He practically threw the items into the room that had become his, nothing but bare wooden walls, but it was a roof over his head and nothing more than anyone else had got in the housing that had been thrown up quickly in the aftermath of Pein's attack. Barely taking the time to lock his door, Naruto was already racing down the street, trying to hold it together long enough, smiling to the villagers who greeted him and hoping that it didn't falter. The last thing that the village needed right now was to see their savior break down. The Village Hidden in the Leaves was hanging on by spider webs of hope, and Naruto refused to be responsible for tearing them all apart and shattering the will that they can managed to scrape together and use to rebuild.

Clans like the Nara, with their deer herd to look after, had built some replacement housing on their property relatively quickly, but they weren't the best of construction and performed their function only. But that was where Shikamaru was to be found today. The only Nara on the property at the moment, smoking a cigarette on the porch and staring blankly at the sky, Shikamaru was relishing the quiet and the space.

Then Naruto thumped down on the grass, breathing ragged, face flushed, and eyes begging.

Without a word, the Nara put out his smoke and held open his arms.

Naruto fell into them.

Shikamaru's heart ached for the man. When Asuma had died, they had still had their families to fall back on, Chouji, Ino and himself. They had a support structure that had been their throughout their entire lives to lean on and refocus. But Naruto was Jiraiya's only student so there was no team waiting for him, and the team that he did have in Konoha, there was no way that they had the level of close bonds that Team Ten had shared, that had been too fractured from the beginning to be that foundation force for the blonde.

Naruto was the strongest person he knew. Physically yes, Naruto could wipe the floor with basically anyone. He had the strength and ability and the sheer determination to continue on even when the enemy should be able to outsmart him. To see him like this seemed wrong and jarring.

But Naruto needed someone that he could break down around. Someone who could see his insecurity and weakness and not think, even for a moment, to take advantage of it. Someone who did not need Naruto to be strong for them. Someone who needed nothing more than for Naruto to be Naruto. And Shikamaru was that person.

In fact, Shikamaru was glad to be that person. It was not a position he had gotten stuck with, but a mantel that he was proud to bear.

He remembered telling his dad, just after Jiraiya had passed, that Naruto was someone that he wanted to stand beside. And he had meant it. Meant every word, and in a deeper way than he thinks his old man had realized.

He wanted to always be there. When things are good, he wanted to celebrate with his friend. When things are difficult, he wanted to help the blonde figure out the way forward. When things, are unbearable, he wanted to be able to be the strength that the other needed to get to the next day when it wasn't quite so bad, when the pain was endurable.

He wanted to be there always.

And it didn't take a genius mind like Shikamaru Nara's to figure out exactly what that really meant.

But it was not the time or place to mention any of that now. The world was unsteady, war was on the horizon, and who knew what was going to happen before the dust would finally settle. Shikamaru would not dare add to that burden that the blonde already bore with a careless, ill-timed confession.

He could already see that the weight of the world was settling in on shoulders that still had growing to do and would not add anything else to them.

So he instead, just held the man when he cried, hoping that with each tear that leaked out of eyes clenched tight, a little bit of the pain was gone forever, soaked up into the arms of the Nara to never return.

He would love for it to be that way.

Naruto cried on until he had worn himself out, Shikamaru knew because the grip on his clothing was finally loosening.

"Thanks, Shikamaru." Naruto mumbled, half asleep.

"No problem," he responded quietly, "everyone has bad days."

Naruto slipped to unconsciousness, and Shikamaru held the blonde closer, waiting for the dreams to startle him to alertness where Shikamaru would be waiting to help him through.

So that's it. Not a whole lot on the romance front, but to do anything else would be disingenuous I thought given the rest of what I wrote. I really quite like this piece though, very introspective. I'm leaving it open ended intentionally so you can decide as you will what happens and if they would make a go of it or not.

Hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a review to let me know what you think.