"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same question." His eyes narrowed, even though he couldn't see through the almost-solid darkness that surrounded him. "Your voice… I think I've heard it before. Do I know you?"

"I dunno." It was a child, a boy. "My name's Shikamaru."

A gasp escaped his lips. "That's impossible."

"What? Is it a really sucky name?" Apathy, or something that was trying to pretend to be.

"Oh… no. It's fine." He hesitated. "But, that's my name, too."

"It's possible for people to share the same name, I guess. I don't think I've seen two people with the same name before, though."

"The Hyuuga," the elder Shikamaru answered immediately. "Their names all start with the same sound, so they would've run out if there were no repeats."

"Uh huh. But they probably only re-use names when the person died or something."

"That would be logical."

"Hey, do you know where we are? It's kind of dark in here, and I couldn't find any light switches, or walls." He definitely didn't remember talking this much when he was younger. "Oh yeah, you know about the Hyuuga? Are you a Konoha shinobi?"

"You could say that."

He could almost hear the gears turning in the younger's head. "You're not a missing-nin, are you?" The question was thrown in almost nonchalantly. Young Shikamaru didn't really believe it possible.

"No. And where we are… I think it's within your mind. Like… like the Yamanaka jutsu, except I don't have a body to return to." Shikamaru, elder, hesitated. "I'm here to take control of your body, and take it for my own."

"What? Why!"

Shikamaru sighed. If he gave no information, his younger self would probably try to fight him. And lose, of course, but Shikamaru didn't like the idea of killing his younger, innocent self. "Let's just say I'm here from a future that was really, really bad. I want to stop it from happening to Konoha."

The other Shikamaru was quiet for a moment. "Oh. I don't really get it, but I guess it's alright." He paused. "It's kinda troublesome, but this is my home, too. So I guess I'd like to help."

Shikamaru smiled grimly, still surrounded by darkness. "You can try."

Shikamaru woke up with a jolt and a gasp, eyes snapping open to the white ceiling and bright lighting. It felt familiar, but he didn't quite remember it.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, and the sharp smell of antiseptic told him all he needed to know. But why would he be in the hospital? He had never gotten injured or seriously sick as a child, and by the sound of the voice he'd (thought he had) heard, he couldn't have graduated yet. Research had shown that his body would be anywhere between six and twelve, and it had to have been done right if he was in a hospital at all.

He used his arms to push himself into a sitting position, the white sheet covering him sliding down to stomach-level. His vision swam suddenly, as if he was looking at everything through water, and he lay back down with a groan. His vision cleared, but he was left with a pounding headache. "What. The. F—" He thought he heard a gasp. "—hell."

"Shikamaru, watch your tongue!" someone immediately snapped from the doorway. A woman. One he had once known so well he would hear that voice even when it was gone forever – or so it would've been – back before few enough people had died so keeping their voices in his head wouldn't have driven him crazy. He stared, wide-eyed, at the person who stepped in.

"Mom?"

(—"Mom?"—)

"Of course it's me!" Her loud, sharp tone made him wince. "And I want to know where you learned that language!"

(—"Of course it's me!" she snapped. Her voice could probably be heard all the way in the Kazekage towers. "And I want to know where in hell you got the idea to try to kill yourself!"—)

"I heard a ninja-person use it," he answered as innocently as possible. "I thought I was going to be a ninja, so it's okay to copy them."

(—"You wouldn't understand," he retorted, "how it is to see your best friend go up in flames at the hands of a former ally."—)

"Well… don't." She glared at him, but her eyes softened (—and the Godaime Hokage glared weakly at Naruto. "I have regrets, but" – she coughed out blood – "I've got to move forward, even to death."

"Tsunade…" Shikamaru thought Naruto was crying, as the voice came out sort of like a sob, but it was hard to tell by staring at the back of his friend's head. "You can't die on me!" Naruto's shoulders were shaking. Shikamaru's cheeks were sort of damp, but he was soaked from a suiton jutsu and he wasn't sure if he was crying. He almost hoped he was, because that would mean he had at least a bit of humanity left, but he couldn't tell and he hated it. "You're a medic, so you can convert my chakra to heal yourself!"

"Give him hell for me, Rokudaime…"—) and she asked, "Are you alright?"

Shikamaru really hoped that these flashbacks wouldn't happen in the middle of a battle. "I think so," he replied, wrinkling his nose in confusion. A long strand of hair tickled his cheek, and he scratched at it to remove the annoying sensation. "Did something happen?"

"Don't you remember?" Shikamaru shook his head. "You passed out in the middle of class and you've been unconscious for a couple of days. If you're alright, you'll be able to go back tomorrow – it's the weekend, so you didn't miss too much."

"My head hurts," he answered immediately. (No! School? Work? He'd rather not.) "And I feel kind of dizzy when I sit up."

His mother frowned. "I'll tell the doctor, but you might have to stay in this room."

"No need." His mother jumped, startled at the smooth, masculine voice, and stepped out of the way to look at him. Shikamaru got a peek at the speaker, a man with rectangular glasses and dressed as a medic. He looked a bit old, but his hair had not yet started greying. "You'll have to stay here until you get better completely. We aren't yet sure what triggered the fainting spell, so we have to monitor you in case you show signs of this event repeating in the future." He tapped a pen on his clipboard. "Umino-san told me you hit your head on the corner of a desk when you fainted, but you fortunately managed not to get a concussion."

Shikamaru nodded, but remembered that he hadn't learned what a concussion was until… well, he wasn't quite sure, but it was probably some time after he graduated. His voice was much higher than he was accustomed to, so he had to be younger than that. "What's a concussion?"

"It's when you hit your head really hard and your brain is injured." The medic smiled kindly, but Shikamaru wondered if he thought he was stupid. "Your brain is rather sensitive, so you sometimes have to see a doctor afterwards."

"Oh."

"Yes." He turned to Shikamaru's mother. "I also came to let you know that visiting hours are almost over – I know he just woke up, Nara-san, but you've been here all day and you should get some rest and nourishment. Rest assured, we will make sure that Shikamaru-kun here is alright. We'll only need to run some tests, and we'll give you the results when you return. They'll be ready by tomorrow afternoon."

"But I—oh, fine, but they'd better be ready when I come to pick them up tomorrow. I think Ino's visiting – she left you those flowers in that vase there – and she'll probably come early in the morning. Make sure you entertain her, and don't pretend to sleep while she's here, understand?"

"Yes, mother." Shikamaru sighed. As the medic gently dragged his mother away, Shikamaru muttered, "How troublesome."

Shikamaru stepped into the room, staring around in wide-eyed wonder. This place… he hadn't been here in ages! The white ceiling, the bedside table with a lamp, the light fixture in the centre of the room, his oh-so-hated alarm clock, even the presence of a tissue box. And the calendar, filled with pictures of flowers; that would be useful right now. There were questions he needed the answer to but couldn't ask, and some of them were right in front of him. He walked quickly across the room (clean, not because he bothered to pick up after himself, but because it was too troublesome to make a mess in the first place) and took the calendar off the wall. He sat on the bed and looked at it.

He was seven, midway through the second month of school, and he had school tomorrow. And, also, he remembered, flipping through the pages, his birthday was only a few weeks ago.

A birthday… he hadn't celebrated one since he was sent out as a prime shinobi in the three-way war that officially ended with the fall of Konoha. None of the survivors had (funny, he'd thought, that it was mostly the children who'd survived) ever celebrated a birthday after the incident, or even mentioned it. Of course there wasn't much to celebrate anyway, but it led up to the point where (—"Kiba," the pale-eyed former-heiress said suddenly. "It's your birthday today."—) they had forgotten.

(—He looked startled, as if an enemy shinobi had suddenly dropped in behind him and was holding a kunai to his throat, immediately wondering aloud: "What's that?"—)

Shikamaru growled and flung the calendar across the room. He lay down on his bed, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been able to repress the memories, mostly, but here, back in the village that had ceased to exist for almost half his former lifetime, they were starting to resurface.

Why, why, why, (—"Why!" he screamed, the voice thickly layered with anguish. The normal stoic ninja's long hair was dishevelled, and he looked almost insane as he glared into Shikamaru's eyes. Neither of them realised how tightly his hand was clenched around Shikamaru's shirt. "Why did you let her die? Why!"—) why, why…

"Dammit!" he hissed, turning around to lie on his stomach. "Damn, shit, fuck…"

(—"Fuck this. It's not worth it any more."—)

"Fuck," he agreed.

"Thirty drops of blood on the wall, thirty drops of blood! They stabbed again and blood sprayed out, thirty-one drops of blood on the wall. Thirty-one drops of blood on the wall, thirty-one drops of blood! They stabbed again and blood sprayed out, thirty-two drops of blood on the wall."

Shikamaru stared. The singer was a young boy with messy blond hair, sitting on a lone wooden swing and kicking the ground. He'd never known Naruto was so morbid, not at this age. He felt like turning back and running home in fear or something, but he'd come here for a reason and it would be troublesome to turn around without even getting anything from his excursion.

Naruto raised his eyes and glared challengingly, continuing his song without blinking. Creepy. "Thirty-two drops of blood on the wall, thirty-two drops of blood…"

Shikamaru joined in, saying it more than singing. "…They stabbed again and blood sprayed out, thirty-three drops of blood on the wall." They both stopped and stared into each other's eyes, gauging the other's reaction. Naruto's were somewhat guarded, more than Shikamaru expected, but he supposed nobody had ever tried to be his friend up to now. "Why does only one drop of blood hit the wall every time they stab him?"

Naruto shrugged indifferently. "S'just a song." Then, he smirked and added, "I made it up. Like it?" Shikamaru shuddered inwardly. That smirk on that face… it looked so wrong! (Like Orochimaru's leer on Sasuke's face, Sasuke's smirk had no place on Naruto's face when he had his own.)

"It's better than the original one. If they wanted that much beer, they should've taken it all down and everyone could have their own or something."

Naruto didn't laugh, though his lips did twitch. "Sure, but they probably liked sharing."

"Right." He looked around, staring at the healthy, green, living trees (—go up in flames—) around them. "Who's being stabbed, anyway?"

"Me."

Shikamaru's eyes widened. "What?"

Naruto just grinned, in the way Shikamaru had been used to. "Just kidding. It's just an enemy, I guess."

"Oh." Shikamaru relaxed, but there was a niggling thought at the back of his head (—"I used to want to die, you know, because I had nobody. Having and losing them is worse, I knew that, but I didn't expect it to be like this!"—) that there was some truth in Naruto's original statement. He didn't want to think about it right now, instead changing the topic. "When does the song end? I don't think numbers end, so if you're going up you can go on forever."

"Dunno. When the guy dies." Naruto's bright smile faded a little into something more normal, showing his (blue, not the wrong, wrong, red) eyes. He looked less guarded than before, more trusting. "You're one of the guys in the Academy, aren't you?"

Oh, yeah. He'd fainted, hadn't he? How embarrassing, he thought, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah. You're in my class, I think." He cocked his head, as if trying to remember. "Your name's Naruto, right? The one who always gets in trouble?"

Naruto scratched the back of his head, chuckling embarrassedly. "Oh, I guess that's how everyone would recognise me, huh?"

"You're also the one who grins that stupid grin at everyone, even though they're looking at you like you're contaminated with something."

The blond blinked. "Maybe I'm just happy," he answered, as if he'd forgotten how Shikamaru had first seen him when he walked in on Naruto's singing. His face screwed up in confusion. "What's contaminated mean?"

Shikamaru shrugged. "Dirty, or like you're sick or something, and if people get too close they might get sick or something."

"Oh." Shikamaru saw Naruto's face fall for a moment, but then he looked down at his feet and Shikamaru could only see the bright, vivid hair (—dripping with blood—) that was probably a horrible colour as one who was supposed to learn to be stealthy. But Naruto had never learned, not properly, not when he was desperate to gain the attention of people under his own power. "I guess they do, huh?"

Oh, crap. He would have to tread carefully if this was to succeed. "I'm Shikamaru. I hope you don't look at me the same way since I fainted, because I'm not sick or anything." He stuck out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Naruto's head snapped up, startled, before he broke out into a (hopeful? Half-disbelieving?) grin. "Yeah." He hopped off the swing and stuck out his own hand to shake Shikamaru's. "I wasn't there when that happened. Did you get hurt?"

"Only a little." Shikamaru smirked. "You were skipping again? You have to at least pretend to pay attention if you want good marks."

"It's not like it would help much anyway. I don't really get it, and I don't think the teachers would want to help me, and it's so boring."

"Aa. I'd offer to tutor you, except…"

"…you're always asleep in classes?"

"Yeah." There was silence for a moment, and they both tried to break it at the same time.

"Why are you—?" (—"How can you—?"—)

"Do you want to—?" (—"Would you like to—?"—)

They both cut themselves off. "You go first," (—Shikamaru—) Naruto said.

(—"I forgot." Naruto grinned sheepishly. "So, you go first."

Liar, Shikamaru thought, but asked anyway,—) "Would you like to go cloud-watching with me? I know a good place for it." (—"How can you still smile like that?"—)

Naruto (—smiled, a little sadly this time—) brightened. "Sure! Let's go!" (—"Nobody else is going to do it."—)

Naruto marched off toward the village center, as if intending to lead the way. Shikamaru stared after him until Naruto turned around to call him over.

It hadn't escaped his notice that Naruto never finished his question, and Shikamaru didn't think it was because Naruto had forgotten.

When Shikamaru dreamed, he felt that something was… off. Not about the dreams – they were the typical reminisces of his friends, whether he saw them alive or dead – but something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could only describe it as a presence. Of what, he didn't know. It unnerved him, but he couldn't spend too much time trying to figure it out.

If he dreamt too long, even the dream of eating Korean barbeque with Chouji deteriorated into something full of fire and carnage.

He hadn't slept for over five hours at a time since, and even that had been a major accomplishment

Naruto fidgeted in his seat beside Shikamaru, unaccustomed to sitting still for so long. "Shikamaru," he complained in a loud whisper, "this is so boring!"

Judging by the twitch of Iruka-sensei's eye, the chuunin could hear perfectly.

"I know that, but you have to deal with it, like shinobi probably have to go through tons of boring meetings," Shikamaru pointed out. "And paperwork too! Is that supposed to be me?" He pointed to a messy doodle on Naruto's paper. "It looks like a pineapple with a smiley face on it."

"So do you," Naruto pointed out.

"My mouth isn't half the size of my face, though, and I have teeth."

"Would you like to continue this outside?" a menacing voice demanded from right behind them. They jumped and looked at their teacher's face guiltily.

Naruto looked like he was about to say something, so Shikamaru clamped a hand over the other's mouth. "No, sorry," he answered.

"Good." Iruka-sensei continued with his lecture, comparing the uses of kunai to those of shuriken. Shikamaru didn't think it meant anything to any of the seven year olds here, except that maybe after half an hour they'd get the idea that kunai were better for close-range than shuriken.

It was just about as boring as Shikamaru remembered, but trying to keep Naruto from running was a good way to stop him from falling asleep.

"Naruto!" he called, up the street. Naruto, sitting at the ramen stall (which he recognised, but it seemed so alien), turned and waved.

He swallowed the noodles he'd been eating as Shikamaru slipped into the seat next to him. "Didn't your parents tell you not to hang around me or something?"

"I'll have whatever he's having," he told the long-haired girl. Shikamaru gave Naruto a sideways glance. "Dad's on a mission, and my mom never asked. Why, don't you like me?"

"No, no, I mean yeah," Naruto corrected himself, seeing Shikamaru's offended look. "It's just that I don't think a lot of people like me too much. Old man, I'll have another deluxe ramen!"

"They don't have to know, if you don't want." Shikamaru shrugged, glancing up at the clouds. It was going to rain today, probably just a light drizzle at first. "I was wondering, though, if you know what practice weapons we have to buy for the Academy? I think I missed it." He hadn't, of course, but that was irrelevant.

"We need to buy weapons?"

Shikamaru considered slamming his face into the countertop, but the Ichiraku stall owner chased away that train of thought by placing a large bowl in front of Shikamaru. Shikamaru stared at it. He didn't think he could eat that much, but it smelled pretty good and he had an idea of how he could make sure it didn't go to waste.

"I think so," he answered calmly, taking a pair of wooden chopsticks and snapping them apart. "Since we both don't know, maybe we could look in a weapons store together, and we could try to find anything we'll probably need together, so we don't forget anything. How does that sound?"

"I don't know…" Naruto bit his lip. "I don't think I have enough money."

"I can probably ask my dad for extra," Shikamaru offered. He made a quick calculation in his head. Naruto should've had more than enough to buy a few sets of kunai and shuriken, writing utensils, and still have enough to buy clothes and food for the whole year. Good stuff too, not just ramen and an orange jumpsuit. Surely he didn't have to pay rent or anything on his own.

"You'd do that for me?" Naruto seemed genuinely astonished.

Naruto would do the same, Shikamaru knew, and more. So why should he be so surprised that someone would do the same for him? "Sure. We're friends, right?" He smiled. "How does tomorrow sound?"

"What are you doing here?" Shikamaru and Naruto looked up from the selection of kunai and turned to face the speaker; Shikamaru's expression was one of confusion (much to his chagrin, he found he couldn't hide his emotions nearly as well as before), while Naruto's was one of nervousness.

"What did I do?" Shikamaru gave the adult an annoyed look, sort of having an idea about what this might be about. Really, though, he'd just expected minor price inflation, not what this was probably about. "I'm here for business reasons, that's all." The shopkeeper barely gave him a glance.

"I'll leave quietly." There was a slight tremor in Naruto's voice. He did as he said, followed by the shopkeeper's intense gaze. When he pushed through the door, the shopkeeper turned to Shikamaru, now offering a wide smile.

"You know, little boy, you shouldn't hang around with such a troublemaker. He'll corrupt your innocent mind, you know."

"I'll be fine," Shikamaru answered, trying and probably failing to smile back. "Besides, we were just getting kunai together."

"Alright." The shopkeeper gave him a nod, then turned to help a father and son duo. Shikamaru recognised them, and flinched. (—"You'd better catch up afterwards, Chouji."

"Yeah."—) (Except that (—"Listen, we're going to get Sasuke back before Chouji catches up to us."—) Chouji never caught up, and they never got Sasuke back. One of the first in his long line of major failures.)

He turned away bitterly. "Sorry," he whispered to himself. No matter how close he'd gotten to Naruto in the other reality, Chouji had always been more important. Chouji had been the one they, no, he, had failed to save. And that was why he couldn't look at him.

That was why, he decided, this time around, they couldn't be friends.

He shook his head. This wasn't the time for that. Naruto was waiting.

He looked around the shop and noticed a pink-haired girl, alone for some reason, looking at some shuriken pouches. Shikamaru walked over to her, carrying the basket filled with shop items in his hand. For some reason, the girl reminded him of the person who had almost become his first kill rather than whom he knew she really was.

"Um, excuse me." Sakura turned to look at him. He was surprised that her bangs were flopping messily over her forehead rather than the way he had become so accustomed to. "If you're here, you're going to the Ninja Academy too, right? Since we need to get practice weapons before the end of the month?" She nodded timidly, stepping backward. She was much quieter than Shikamaru remembered her. "Uh, you didn't get much yet, did you?" She shook her head. She looked terrified of him, for some reason. "Oh, good, because I was wondering if you'd take this stuff off my hands. I need to go do something quickly, and I don't want to be late, so if you wouldn't mind…" He offered the shopping basket, and she took it warily, making sure their hands didn't touch. Shikamaru smiled warmly. "Thanks! See you at the Academy!" He turned to leave.

"Thank you," she called after him softly. Shikamaru gave her a wave as he ran down the aisles to the door.

Well, this was one shop he'd be boycotting in the future. Too bad; they sold absolutely fantastic flash bombs.

The world was black, and Shikamaru was running. He was back in his old body, the one of a scarred man who had lost almost everything and bargained away what little he had left. There was something behind him, the shadow of something gigantic flying after him almost lazily. It could catch up easily, but it didn't.

You wanted to see them again. Time's up.

No! he tried to protest, but couldn't speak the word. That wasn't the deal!

It's time for you to go back. You ended Naruto's life to see them for two hours; you were generously given more. It's time to go back.

No! I didn't—I can't—I won't! Still, silence on his part. Why couldn't he speak?

Part of the darkness faded to reveal a dead, blond man, with glassy red eyes staring up blankly, accusingly, in a pool of his own blood. A pool of blood large enough to have come from several men, because Kyuubi would never let its victim bleed to death.

To have died from a mere slash across his throat, Naruto would have had to have been suppressing the demon's power.

You see? He died for you. Your time is up.

No! No! I didn't kill him, I swear! I would never do that! I thought maybe I would, but I could never bring myself to do it. I just—

(He thought he might be crying.)

I just left him behind.

There was that presence, again, and a faint, distant voice. "You don't have to do this alone." He looked behind him, where the voice had seemingly come from. There was nobody there.

"But I am alone."


Posted September 8, 2007