A/N: This was something that wouldn't leave me alone, even as I was in the middle of writing chapters for other stories. I'm not sure if I'll post more, as this is my first venture into this fandom, and I'm hesitant, to say the least. Any comment as to characterization and such would be greatly appreciated.
This will end up featuring most of the main characters from Naruto, and I'm willing to consider couple requests, if the plot allows it.
Sorry about the ridiculously long AN.
Disclaimer: *insert witty way to say 'don't own' here*
It was probably the fastest Shikamaru had ever managed to do anything.
No wandering between consciousnesses, no staring at half defined shapes. Just a hitch in his throat, and he jackknifed into a sitting position, trying to catch his breath as he struggled to force air into his lungs.
His airways finally clear, he opened his eyes. The view that met them caused his brow to crumple in confusion. Beeping machines and clear substances passing through tubes that wound their way around him. Beyond that, white walls and a stranger, pausing with one hand on the doorknob.
The stranger turned around, and smiled when he met Shikamaru's questioning gaze.
"Oh, good. For a second there, I was worried you were going to keel right over again."
"What?" Shikamaru tried to answer, but no sound came out of his tight throat. He tried again, and managed to squeak out an unintelligible mess. It didn't matter, anyway. The stranger had already opened the door and disappeared down the hall.
There was nothing he could do about that. There were other things to worry about, anyway. First of all, why was he in a hospital? That was obviously what this place was. He didn't remember any accidents. Had he been sick? Unlikely.
And who was the boy that had been waiting for him? There was a bag of chips left abandoned next to the chair by the door, half eaten. It had fallen over, spilling out onto the spotless linoleum floor.
Footsteps outside the door caused him to tense, but it was just the stranger returning, grinning at the nurse that followed him in.
"See, I told you he would wake up!"
The nurse looked up, and her eyes widened, as she took in Shikamaru, leaning against the bed's headrest. It only lasted a second, before she covered it up with a face that was all business. Moving towards a monitor to his left, she nodded, before turning back to the beeping machines.
"Choji, would you go and tell Gale to inform the Naras that their son has woken up?"
The boy nodded, and Shikamaru watched him leave. He was a bit pudgy, with round cheeks and messy brown hair. And he was still no one he recognized.
Maybe he had lost some memory. What the hell had happened to him?
The nurse was smiling down at him, as one hand reached out to check his pulse.
"Nice to see you awake, Mister Nara. Do you remember how you got here?"
He struggled for a moment, once again trying to make sense of it, before shaking his head.
Nodding, the nurse stood back. "Well, that's natural. You were in an accident. It's not my the right time to get into all the details, but it involved a bus that you were on, and some unstable gases."
Shikamaru still couldn't recall any of this. "Oh. Do I know him?"
His voice came out at a croak, but much better than before. The nurse seemed to guess what he was talking about, too.
"Choji was in the same accident as you," she explained, going back to the monitor. "You didn't know each other beforehand, but he always comes and checks on you for a few minutes after school and on most weekends."
Shikamaru blinked, realizing that he had been asking the wrong question. He had skipped the most important one.
"How long-" his voice disappeared, but he licked his lips and tried again. "How long have I been out?"
The nurse turned, as the door began to open once again. Shikamaru could still catch her words, though by the dropping in his stomach and the ringing in his ears, maybe he wished he hadn't.
"Funny thing, that. It would have been a year tomorrow."
A year. He had been in a coma for a year.
Questions buzzed in his head, and he clenched his teeth. He didn't know enough to answer any of them. What had happened. Who had been there. What he had missed in the year that had passed. Why the stranger, Choji, actually cared enough to check on him every day. And why he couldn't remember anything.
Choji bounced in, grinning widely. "The girl at the front desk is calling the Naras right now."
"Thank you, Choji." She looked back at Shikamaru. "Are you feeling all right, then? I'm going to bring you some water, and some soup too, if you want it." At his nod, she smiled. "Excellent. I'll be right back."
As she left, Choji sat back down in the chair he had abandoned before, and picked up his chips. There was a long pause, punctuated by the crunching of potato chips. The boy seemed unperturbed at Shikamaru's stare.
"Its good to have you back." Finally, Choji finished off the last chip, and broke the silence. "Knowing you, you've probably already started figuring some things out." There was a hopeful look in his eyes, but Shikamaru only grew more confused.
It must have shone in his face, because Choji's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "You don't remember."
Shikamaru shook his head. "You were in the accident with me, right? Choji."
"Yeah." He fiddled with the chip bag, before crumpling it up in one fist. "I-"
The door swung open, and two people burst through it. These figures Shikamaru recognized. His mother and father, both looking a little teary eyed, rushed to his bedside, where his mother immediately enveloped him in a hug. His dad, on the other hand, keep shooting weird looks at Choji, who had slouched down in his seat, as if trying to become invisible.
The next time Shikamaru managed to take a peek at the chair, the boy had disappeared. Not that he had much time to think about this, between excited, sometimes sobbed words of his mother, and the awkward, relieved lines his father managed in between. One of the nurses was constantly shoving more food at him, and within the hour, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. Finally, his parents were ushered out, and someone was kind enough to turn off the light, leaving him alone.
It was so strange, people who he was used to seeing every day acting like this. Like he had returned from the dead. Which he supposed he had, in a way. The whole thing felt off. Like something was missing, or very, very wrong.
He would dwell on that more tomorrow. When he wasn't so tired, and could start to wrap his brain around all of this.
Tomorrow.