Amaya woke to unfamiliar surroundings. Sitting up, she could see she was in a room of mostly white, a few art pieces scattered throughout, and a glass table in front of her. She was covered by a quilt and laying on a black leather couch. Rain continued to beat against the window's glass; the sky showing no sign of light.

"You're awake." He handed Amaya a steaming mug. She looked at it questioningly. "It's just tea. Sugar, no milk."

You know how I like my tea? "How did I get here?"

Shikamaru had seen Amaya outside of the small restaurant, and had seen her run away into the storm. Temari sent him to go, saying Amaya needed him more than her. He followed her, staying out of sight just to make sure Amaya was all right. But when Amaya went to her mother's makeshift memorial, Shikamaru was at a loss of what to do. Though many had said he was a genius, he didn't know how to fix her pain. There were so many options and outcomes, he couldn't decide on the best option.

By the time he could finally realize she just needed someone there, she was in the storm too long. Hypothermia was beginning to set it, and he was too late to get to her before it overcame her. Amaya's body was too exhausted to stay conscious.

"But," he continued, "I should be asking what you were doing out there in the first place. It was deserted, and to go there during a storm… What were you thinking, Amaya?" Anger was apparent on his face. His eyes were darker, jaw clenched.

"I wasn't," she replied quietly. She stood from the couch; he didn't move from his place on the coffee table. "Thank you, Shikamaru, really. But I should be going." She turned toward the door, but a hand caught her arm before she could take a step.

"Amaya." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Why won't you talk to me?"

The same anger she had last night flared up. Amaya spun around in his grasp, her face only inches from his. "You want to know why? Because I love you. Because I could never do anything about it because you have Temari and she's my best friend. I couldn't even tell her. Because I love you and I'm afraid. I'm afraid to love, because every time I do I get hurt. And I'm afraid that if I did tell you, I would only lose you. But none of it matters because you never even notice me. Temari's the only reason you followed me last night. I bet you don't even care." She whispered the last sentence, tears now pooling in her eyes.

"Amaya—"

"Forget it," she interrupted. Amaya twisted out of his grasp and fled out his door.

She ran.

She ran to her sanctuary.

The only place Amaya felt someone truly cared.

The figures were still there, having not been worn away by the pouring rain. Her vision blurred by her tears, Amaya produced a makeshift blade out of the earth.

She stabbed the dirt Shikamaru's chest, gripping the blade so hard she began drawing blood from her own hand.

Then she couldn't move.

Her whole body felt like stone.

It was frozen in place.

"You really should have picked a different place to go if you were trying to avoid me," Shikamaru said. He was making her cast a shadow in the light of a glow-stick. She unwillingly dropped her blade into his hand. "Do you really hate me that much?" He asked, seeing the damage to his earth self.

Amaya didn't say anything, but looked down and let the tears fall freely.

"Please don't cry." He stopped his shadow possession jutsu and chose to instead wrap her in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," she said, and kept saying it. She apologized over and over, for what she did and said.

He took her face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. "It's okay."

All she could was cry into his shoulder. Small sobs and numbing shivers shook her shoulders. He held her close to him, and stayed silent as she let out everything she'd buried deep within her years ago. When she had finished Shikamaru brought her underneath the tree, where the rain was far less. He took a blanket out of his coat and wrapped it around the tired girl. Her body drained from the chakra and energy she'd exerted the past twenty-four hours.

"It's okay to sleep," he told her. She was too tired to object.

When she had fallen to sleep, Shikamaru picked her up to bring her back to his apartment. He hoped – this time – she would finally talk to him.

Arriving at his home, the boy laid Amaya on his bed and removed the wet blanket. Not wanting to take her wet clothes, Shikamaru instead opted to take as many blankets as he had and cover her. He then changed his own soaked clothes and pulled up a chair beside the bed to watch her sleep. He knew he could never sleep for worry about her.

Amaya didn't have a chance to so much as sit up before Shikamaru was forcing her into his bathroom to change into an oversized t-shirt so he could dry her now damp clothing. And when she had changed her outfit, she found Shikamaru busy mixing herbs in his kitchen.

"Um… I have, I have these," she said shyly, gesturing to her wet clothes.

"The drier is through that door." He pointed it out, not turning around.

Returning from the laundry room, Amaya sat down on his couch uncertainly. She watched Shikamaru as he measured and pounded various plants – he brewed them into a tea. He brought two cups into the living room and sat beside her on the couch. Though Amaya sipped her cup and kept her gaze averted, the boy watched her intently.

"Is… Something wrong?" she asked unsure.

"Is there?" Seriousness was plastered across his features.

"No," Amaya sighed. "Not really."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Amaya decided to speak; she knew Shikamaru was waiting for her to continue. "I am sorry about, you know, everything… I wasn't thinking straight."

"I'm not concerned about that." She turned to ask him what he meant, but he stopped her. "You. I'm worried about you."

"Well, there's noth—"

"I know about everything, Amaya. Temari stopped by last night." He held up a hand to stop her when she tried to speak. "Temari, she told me about your mom dying, and what your dad did to you. I know about all of it, Amaya. She knows I care about you, why can't you see that, too?"

Amaya had nothing to say; she was shocked.

Then he kissed her.

She kissed back.

And she thought maybe, maybe things could be okay.