DISCLAIMER: All Naruto-affiliated characters do NOT belong to me in any shape, way, or form.
CHAPTER ONE : UNRELENTING TORRENT
Hear me grieving. I'm lying on the floor… whether I'm drunk or dead, I really ain't too sure.
-Deep Purple, When A Blind Man Cries-
"Mou, Shikamaru no baka!" Pouting her plumped rosy lips and swinging back her long blonde hair, the girl exuded an aura of not-really-controlled anger as she bopped the said man on the head.
"Ow…" the lazy genius moaned, rubbing his head whilst yawning and muttering, "How troublesome…"
Chouji didn't even spare them a glance. He was busy concentrating on eating out the entire barbeque restaurant, as fast as he could. Shikamaru couldn't fathom how Chouji became skinny and was still eating that much though, as he tried to turn to observe him instead of Ino, who was making loud noises… They started to chat about the different types of barbeque meats, only because Shikamaru wanted to avoid Ino that badly.
"Anyway, as I was saying, after three years of… HEY LISTEN TO ME!" she shrieked, having caught him talking to Chouji. Thus resulting in several more head bops.
"Troublesome woman, that hurts…hurry up and say it then," he mumbled, highly annoyed he could be watching clouds and relaxing instead of…whatever he was doing.
"I was trying to, but someone didn't want to listen!" She crossed her arms angrily. Then in one instant, she had a crazy mood swing and became a bouncy, happy blonde. Shikamaru sighed as he watched.
"Soooo…Like I was saying, after four years of dating and almost 15 years of knowing each other…" she paused dramatically, clasping her hands together and dreamily sighing, "We're going to get married!"
Silence.
Cricket, cricket…
Chouji apparently realized what she had just said, and immediately choked on his food. Shikamaru, a bit shell-shocked, reached over to pat him on the back slowly, as if contemplating Ino's words.
"A-hem…Um…Ino, would you care to…repeat that again?" Chouji asked timidly. Shikamaru looked at him weirdly.
She looked at him with annoyance.
"We talked it over last night, remember? I said, "Let's get married!" and you said yes!"
Chouji stared at her, then turned to Shikamaru. He opened his mouth to say something, but Shikamaru held up a hand to interrupt him.
"Hey, man… I don't know anything about this, alright? Eh…congratulations, I guess?" he half-laughed, half-sniggered. The idea of Ino settling down was shocking enough, but the idea of Ino marrying Chouji and having little baby blonde fatsos – correction, big-boned-kiddies – running around was hilarious.
But he was very happy for them.
They left the restaurant with Chouji still looking confused about the whole deal. Shikamaru looked at him lazily as they walked home in the night darkness.
"Stop looking so troublesome, you guys are getting married…aren't you happy?"
Ino had gone separate ways to…visit her gravestone. She was going to tell her the good news, and do the daily visit.
"W-well, yeah… but it's kind of sudden, and I don't remember saying anything about marriage," he replied, squinting his eyes in thought.
"Well, congratulations. Hope you live a somewhat troublesome-free life," Shikamaru smirked. They stopped once they reached his apartment.
"You know that's not possible with Ino," Chouji laughed, joyful all the same. They waved their silent goodbyes, and Shikamaru smiled a lazy smile as he slowly climbed the stairs to his door.
"Married, huh…" he drawled to himself. He rather liked the idea.
"The inheritors of Konoha's never-dying will of fire are ready to pass it on already, eh?"
The wind swept through his ears, whistling a tune of burnt leaves and half-dead trees as Shikamaru managed to crack his eyes open. He noted dryly that all the leaves were gone, withered and dried on the ground, while the trees themselves were still standing.
So the roots of our people are still alive, meaning we'll always rebound back, huh… He mindlessly recalled that pleasant memory, it having been one of the wisest things their Sixth Hokage – the Uzumaki Naruto – had ever said.
Shikamaru was now calm again – it had always been a talent of his. One of the reasons he had been promoted before many of the others, too. And after that thought he immediately winced again.
I've gotten over it so fast. A steadfast friend, I am, he sneered at himself, eyes downcast. It bothered him that he was not trying to commit suicide, or at least ripping out his heart in the grievance of Konoha's death. If she were here…
Heh. Then the troublesome woman would've punched the daylights out of me with her deadly punches, he supposed.
He grunted, the man carrying him having shifted his positioning hanging over his back. The bumpy thing beneath him was…something he couldn't identify. Without even glancing up from the swiftly moving…sand…beneath them, he concluded several important things.
One: They were obviously in Suna territory. Which was good, Suna being an ally…or not, now that things were like this.
Two: He was being carried by an Akatsuki. The scent of blood lingered, along with something close to…fish. Odd.
Three: These were obviously not any weak Akatsuki. Their chakra was lethal and overpowering, especially from the man tagging behind them.
Four: That man was Uchiha Itachi, and the guy carrying him was therefore most likely Hoshigaki Kisame. That must've been the fish smell. And the bumpy thing between him and fish-man was probably Samehada, his sword.
Five: He had no idea what they wanted with him, the most pathetic and troublesome ninja in existence right now.
With careful thinking, Shikamaru figured they would not kill him – he didn't seem to have joined his friends yet, therefore the Uchiha must've wanted him for something.
Of course, right now he wouldn't mind dying – regardless of whether it was torturous or painless.
Not that that mattered. He wasn't going to be able to die anytime soon if the Akatsuki wanted him for something.
Troublesome timing. He sighed. Lady Luck either loved him, or the God of Misfortune was hell-bent on ruining his life.
Not surprisingly, Itachi had felt Shikamaru's light gaze free of any emotion at all directed towards him for a second or so. He glanced down, and noticed the Nara's hooded eyes silently thinking everything over.
He was rather surprised the gaze had held no ill intent at all, or any despair. Not that Itachi minded, because he would prefer not to have a hysterical, depressed man on their hands. But he knew this man, Nara Shikamaru, as the one who had killed – or more like permanently incapacitated – Hidan, apparently single-handedly as well.
Which is enough to become an Akatsuki, save for the ring problem, he smirked. No smirk could beat an Uchiha's.
Shikamaru felt the smirk and the Sharingan dwell on him, and he…he, surprised at himself, felt no fear.
Probably the after-effects of having your world torn down right in front of your eyes and not being able to do anything about it, he drawled in his mind. Not much to be afraid of anymore, when you're willing to die or feel pain.
Behind him, the Uchiha glared as he felt no fear. Damn this man. It made sense though. Nara-san probably did not care for much anymore, but Itachi silently acknowledged his ability to remain calm and accept what happened.
"Tch," Kisame muttered, "Not only is this sand horribly dry and annoying to travel on, this idiot's hair is poking in the back and DAMNIT his hair is spiky! Who has hair like that, huh? Must be goddamned insa—"
"I'm glad you like my hair," Shikamaru interrupted sarcastically, not surprised his voice was weak and scratchy. Who knows when he last drank something…other than his own blood?
They paused as soon as he had spoken, Kisame stiffening and immediately dropping the genius onto the hard-packed sand. Itachi did not say a thing, having known he had been awake for the last hour or so.
Shikamaru groaned since that not-so-gentle fall had attacked all the bruises on his poor back, as well as maybe reopening some wounds. That became apparent, as his white shirt started to cover the last inch of dry cloth with red.
"Any gentler and I would've died," he continued scathingly. He wasn't afraid of them; rather, he was hoping they would hate him and then promptly kill him off.
Kisame sent Itachi a questioning look, as if wondering why their…prisoner, or companion?...was being so non-respective and non-afraid. It was a refreshing concept, kind of like when they had picked up their little pink Kitten.
"Cut off with the insults, boy, or I'll skin you alive with my Samehada," he threatened, eyes glowing eagerly at the thought of it. Shikamaru lazily smiled at him and painstakingly managed to stand, wobbling only slightly. He bowed, inclining his head slightly, to Kisame, who stood with one eyebrow raised next to an amused yet understanding Itachi.
"Troublesome… Just hurry up and kill me," he drawled, not bothering to get rid of the hopeful tone in his voice or the fact his eyes were still disrespectfully looking to the side.
Kisame looked at him as if he had grown another head.
"You want me to kill you?" Huh, so he wasn't as dumb as he looked.' Just as Shikamaru opened his mouth to respond, Itachi stepped in-between them and pointed to something in the distance.
"It is almost sunrise. We must be on our way." Without another word, or even a pause to wait for them, he jumped off and returned to their original pace. And then Shikamaru realized something horrible…
"Ugh, so troublesome…" he complained, "Quick, knock me out, fish-man, so we can go—"
"Fish-man?!" Kisame sputtered indignantly.
"—unless you want to carry me while I'm awake, which is just…disgustingly troublesome."
Because there is no fucking way I'm going to let myself be carried by…that…while being conscious and aware. His eye twitched at the thought of it.
Still frowning over the remark on his fishy looks, Kisame brought one hand down and cleanly struck the area behind Shikamaru's neck, rendering him unconscious. Then picking him up by one arm quite roughly, he literally threw the genius onto his back and smashed his head into Samehada. By accident, of course.
They continued on their way, catching up to Itachi quickly. With a subtle glance that no one thought the fish-like drunkard could pull off, Kisame knew Itachi was still a bit stirred up.
"What are we going to do with this bastard, huh?" Kisame scowled, attempting to divert his attention from Konoha.
Itachi's chakra suddenly blasting out in anger when he heard that gave away two things: one, Kisame's attempt was a complete failure. Two, he really needed to get a rein over his emotions.
With that said – or felt – the rest of the journey to their Suna headquarters was completely silent, save for the occasional growling issuing from Samehada and their own pitter-patters from racing across the sand.
Rubbing the area between his eyes, the Uchiha glanced casually at Shikamaru, asleep on Kisame's back, in front of him. Only, he didn't see a Nara – he saw the will of fire the Sandaime had often spoken softly and proudly about.
"Hn," he grunted. No one heard him.
I am…becoming weak.
News traveled fast around the world of ninja. It had only been a few hours, and then Akatsuki had been alerted that Konoha and Sound were at the final stages of war – battle to the death. With both sides seemingly at a tie.
It could be a bad thing, the melancholy woman mused. Because you always seem to get the news you never want to hear first.
She shuffled through the dark hallways and paused in front of a door – it seemed normal-looking, and not any different from the other numerous doors populating the underground facility. But the mixed look she gave it left an impression that whatever it held behind its weak protection was something…different.
"Hey, kitten, yeah," came that enthusiastic, bubbly voice that tore her heart out and yet healed it in one instant. Naruto…
"What's wrong, yeah?" Deidara pouted. He looked her over in concern, before noticing the door she was standing in front of. Immediately, his eyes darkened and the carefree aura left as quickly as it had shown at the sight of her.
"It's nothing, Deidara," she smiled, knowing it didn't quite reach her eyes. It wasn't the door – it had been the memories of whom he had such a likeness too…
"Let's go see if Sasori is free so I may learn some more puppet jutsu." Taking his hand in hers, she pulled them down the hallway and pretended not to notice the glare Deidara sent at the door before they walked off.
They arrived at what seemed to be a lounge room, with comfy sofas and even a TV. A peek of red hair could be seen from the big couch directly in front it.
"Sasori-danna, yeah!" Deidara yelled enthusiastically – apparently a bit too enthusiastic for the puppeteer, because he then cringed and the mop of hair disappeared from view for a second.
"What is it, Deidara? …And, I suppose, our little flower as well?"
She smiled at his little nickname. "Not too artsy or creative, Sasori. But good enough. I wanted to improve on my pup..pe-t…jutsus…" She had detected the two familiar chakra signatures getting closer.
Deidara stiffened, and Sasori calmly stood up whilst turning the TV off. It'd been showing some stupid rerun of this romantic comedy that revolved around a criminal man and an innocent girl…
How fitting. Sasori wondered at the coincidence.
"Let us go meet them out in front. Maybe it is best if you…stayed here, little flower," he said softly. She shook her head, breaking from whatever memories that had been flashing pain across her eyes.
"N-no, it's alright. I already stayed back as it is, so yeah. I should just…go now," she stumbled, pathetically finishing her words. Deidara placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, gaining him a weak smile in return.
The steps had never echoed as loudly to her ears as they did now as all three of them slowly walked towards the front entrance. She probably should have just stayed back as Sasori had said, but something in her was burning to know about any survivors, while something else knew she should not look, should not care, because it would be too painful…
Was it too much to hope for that her precious people had…just maybe, somehow…survived?
Sasori watched her facial expressions carefully, and caught glimmers and flickers of hesitation and despair. He really should have made her stay behind.
Deidara wasn't thinking any different. Kitten, yeah… You're pushing yourself too hard.
They stopped in front of the big doors that lead to the outside world, swirling of sand…and of whatever pain she was about to come across. Bracing herself for the worst, that they were all possibly…dead, she pushed the doors open with both hands.
And she cried out in grief right on the spot.
Immediately sinking to her knees, she knew the others were all watching and trying to gauge her reaction. One shaky hand reached out to the person sitting in-between her two Akatsuki teammates that had brought him here.
She cried, and cried, and cried…just like he had. Weeping endlessly, she traced the outline of his face, from cheek to jawbone – trembling all the while since her body refused to not cry as well.
She did not love him more than she loved her Akatsuki men…but she wept at what he symbolized. Itachi and Kisame had only brought him back, and that meant there had been no more survivors…
The rest had all…been lost, forever.
As much as her eyes were glued tight in hurt, his were just as well. From even before she had flung open the doors, he had recognized her familiar chakra signature. Shikamaru did not hate her – he did not hold any anger towards her for making them believe she had been dead and instead joined the Akatsuki at all.
Instead, he was glad to have someone mourn with him. Someone to punch him for being so…unfeeling.
"Sh-shikam-maru…" she half-sobbed, half-laughed. He saw the beginnings of hysteria in that short laugh.
"You're…al-l-live…" Another laugh. "Th-that's…great-t…."
Right before she fell completely from what she had tried so hard to brace herself for, he reached out to steady her – instead, resulting in them hugging tightly as if they were each other's lifelines.
They had never been that close with each other – occasionally, when she had still been in Konoha, they would play shoji together. He appreciated her understanding and intelligence, and they were merely...very good friends.
Nothing special hung between them.
But as they hugged like there was no tomorrow, Shikamaru found he still had tears to cry out. They sobbed together, finding comfort in each other's presence and their losses…
He quieted down before she did, patting and rubbing her back in slow circles to soothe her tension. The anguished expression on his face, however, did not disappear.
The Akatsuki had somehow left during their tearful exchange, and he found themselves alone outside in the sand.
Her tears finally dried, and with an unsteady breathing pattern she finally, and a bit reluctantly, pulled out from their embrace.
He smiled, a bit wistfully – and being that it still contained a hint of laziness, she shakily laughed. Some things would never change.
"Hey, it's been a while…" he murmured, looking down at the exotically colored long hair held between his fingertips. He dragged his eyes back up slowly, before meeting her jade green ones.
"…Sakura."
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: 07.17.08
Well, today's my brother's birthday. He actually passed his driving test.
…Talk about scary.
Anyway, I made this chapter a bit longer. Excuse the weird Itachi moments, because I'm having serious writer's block…bad. I sort of forced myself to wrote some of this chapter, and it never turns out good when it's forced. Oh well. I'll deal with it once it ruins the rest of the story later. And because it's one o'clock in the morning, I should probably consider going to bed soon…
My uh…hopefulness for two reviews was quite quickly crushed. .. oh well. I'll be satisfied with one. …please? :D
Oh, and I didn't have much time to go over it, but everything should be in line if we're talking Grammar and spelling…probably.