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A/N: Sorry for the delay! I was on vacation and didn't have regular access to the Internet. I'm (sadly) back home now, so here's the newest chapter! It's a shorter chapter this time around, but the next one'll juicy enough to make up for it. Promise.
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That was kind of how their little arrangement became a Thing, when one night a week became every weekend, which turned into every other day.
Ino had started with flat-out asking to stay over in the middle of the night. These times, she was a real treat – she'd be cranky and sour from attempting to obtain a scant few minutes of sleep on her own. Shikamaru, who had usually been rudely awoken from his own slumber at this point, just didn't possess the necessary resolve to turn her away, or even protest.
Then she just started showing up, tapping once, twice on the glass of the window for him to let her in. She never used her key anymore, but Shikamaru noticed that she didn't give it back.
And as the sleepovers went on, Shikamaru noticed that Ino began taking odd little liberties: using his toothpaste, bringing over houseplants, helping herself to the contents of his fridge, etc. Often she'd violate their sleeping-only rule and talk for a long while before they fell asleep. Usually about silly things, like work and friends and family. Sometimes other, more personal subjects, divulging her dreams and fears and weird little confessions about her myriad failed relationships. And always in the same way: a quiet voice, lying on her back and speaking almost to the ceiling, her hand lightly laying, palm-up, on the pillowcase beside her head.
Truthfully, Shikamaru didn't mind – she never expected him to reciprocate the conversation to any degree. He would usually turn over and fall asleep late conversation, anyway.
And there was something that was undeniably charming about these little talks, the way Ino became less wound up and considerably more voluble as the night wore on. The way the unconscious gestures of her hands were endearingly eloquent and familiar in the dusky darkness of his bedroom. It was like they hadn't actually known each other for the majority of their lives, but were instead acquainting themselves in the small space of hours they allotted to sharing territory out of something that felt like necessity.
This was their Thing. Not that it was anything even vaguely resembling a thing, lacking in any romantic dimension whatsoever. It was kind of weird, but most importantly kind of nice, Shikamaru was willing to admit. Which was probably why he let it go on.
Some mornings he woke up by himself, Ino's half of the bed neatly smoothed over, her blanket folded pristinely and placed on her fluffed pillow and the enticing smell of her leftover pot of coffee thick in the air. Other mornings, Shikamaru would wake with the soft press of her sleeping body against his back, or with his arm errantly flung over her the plane of her stomach and nose partially buried in her shampoo-scented pillow. Clearly, she hadn't been the only one taking liberties. But Ino hadn't complained about it yet.
This morning, Shikamaru woke alone. She had moved a nearly desiccated vase of flowers from the window to his desk with a post-it note stuck to the green enamel reading: water me!
Right. He had forgotten. After following the post-it note's instructions (with a few spritzes of water in a feeble attempt to revive some wilted petals), Shikamaru went about his morning routine. Cup of coffee to go, shower, dress, slouch to work.
The rest of his day was almost as painfully routine, save for a few guest appearances from his peers (Sakura had carted a chipper, though injured, Naruto in on a gurney to report on the intel he had obtained on his last S-rank mission, Neji to place some cipher requests and Shiho, just to say hi).
As his workday drew to an end (after an ungodly 12 hours, no less), Shikamaru was less than pleased to find not one, but two reminder texts from: a) his mother, reminding him about Yamanaka Izumi's surprise birthday party tonight, and b) Chouji, who was returning from a week-long mission much later in the evening and needed to go out for an immediate, badly-needed drink. A troublesome twist of events.
So instead of indulging in what he would have actually loved to do that evening (read: sleep), Shikamaru opted to skip the change of clothes (as a possibly useful excuse for a quick escape at any point during the night), swung by the bakery near his apartment for a box of Ino's mother's favourite sweet pastries and left for the Yamanaka residence.
It was 9:30. He resolved to leave by 11.
Now, parties with his parents and their life-long friends were typically routine affairs. Shikamaru showed up, endured some polite nagging from mothers Akamichi, Yamanaka and Nara, typically on the topic of marriage and children (as in: when on earth was he going to get started on either, for goodness sakes, he was a catch and they wanted to play with some grandchildren). He'd drink a rather unhealthy amount of Chouza's disgusting homemade beer, then was usually wrangled for a shougi match or twenty with an inebriated Inoichi, who insisted they play until he could win against the young prodigy. Eventually, Shikamaru would end up giving him one damn victory just to get away from the playing board for a few precious minutes.
He used his current few precious minutes to finish off another fugitive from his emergency cigarette pack, choosing to escape to the privacy of the Yamanaka shopfront to minimize the chance of being caught by one of the mothers.
Which was where he ran into Ino. Other than a brief nod at his entry earlier that night, she had similarly been wrangled into an almost painfully routine set of party activities that kept her quite busy for the majority of the evening.
"Yo," greeted Shikamaru, lighting his cigarette and ignoring her disapproving glare. Despite having been sleeping beside her for more nights than not over the course of the last few weeks (or perhaps because of it), seeing her outside of the apartment felt a little bit weird. Shikamaru was pretty sure that it might have been the first time they had met like this since the beginning of their strange little arrangement.
Not that there was anything different about it. Ino was still Ino after all: generous with her eye-rolls, legs crossed, skirt a distractingly short length, second source of his female woe since his tender childhood. She was leaning against the white fencepost in front of the store with her cellphone in one hand and glass of plum-sour in the other, presumably to similarly escape the annoying attentions of their elders.
It was a fence Shikamaru remembered being coerced into painting when they were 12. Chouji had unintentionally made the biggest mess of the flowers, and the Yamanakas were selling paint-streaked roses for days. Fortunately, they had been pretty hot seller.
"You're still smoking those things?" Ino pulled a disgusted face.
Shikamaru held up his pack, shaking it to give her an idea of its dwindling contents. "Yeah, well, after this, that's it."
She raised a skeptical eyebrow and smirked. "Forever?"
"Maybe forever," he lied. "It's my last emergency pack, after all."
"I don't believe you," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You're the worst with those."
He decided the change the subject in an attempt to waylay the nagging. "You coming to meet Chouji tonight?"
"Mmm," Ino glanced at her phone, then decidedly turned it off. Shikamaru didn't ask. "Yeah, there's no way I'm sticking around here. When does he get back?"
"In an hour, I think."
"Argh," Ino complained loudly. "Can't it be any sooner? I can't stand another stab about the waning of my prime birthing years."
Shikamaru nodded, but couldn't resist a sarcastic jab. "Not having a good time?"
Ino gave him a look. "Oh yes, it's incredibly pleasant having your drunk father try to have The Talk with me for the—" She mocked counted on her fingertips. "Ninth time this year?"
"They just want to make sure you know how to get started on those kids you should be having right about now."
This elicited a light laugh from Ino. "Hah! You should see how much my mother wants to plan a wedding. Can you imagine the horrible dresses she'd pick out for my bridesmaids? Sakura would just die."
Which was right about when said tipsy mother came out to fetch something and overheard them.
"Now, now," Izumi chided disapprovingly. "Is my dearest daughter badmouthing her one-and-only mother on her birthday?"
"I wouldn't dream of it, Mother Dearest," replied Ino, flashing the winning smile of the culpable.
Izumi gave a laugh, a knowing look on her face, and took Shikamaru's arm to steady herself. He readily obliged her, passing his cigarette to his other hand discretely. "You two must know that we're just annoying because we love you so much."
"And because Ino's birthing years are waning so quickly," Shikamaru couldn't resist adding with a straight face. Ino scowled at him.
The older woman laughed. "Yes, and those birthing years. But really, it's a waste to not pass on your good genes. Shikamaru, don't you think my daughter's one of the most beautiful girls in Konoha?"
It took a moment for Shikamaru to realize that Izumi had, in fact, been talking to him. Despite there being many pretty girls in Konoha, most people would certainly have a hard time disputing Izumi's statement, but Shikamaru didn't know how to answer truthfully without making things awkward, slightly buzzed or not. So he just opted for a half smile and no answer, then avoided Ino's gaze for a full three minutes.
"Though I must be honest," continued Ino's mother, in a conspiratorial sotto-voce. "As much as I would love a grandchild or two running around, it's actually better to use your youth to learn how to be okay on your own. To develop more as a person. Then you can find someone and settle down afterwards."
This was surprisingly wise and useful advice, so Shikamaru finished his cigarette and let her go on, carefully aiming the exhaled smoke away from Ino's slightly wobbly mother. He suspected that in there was some advice for her daughter's perpetual boy troubles.
Ino smiled. "I can hear you, Mom. Standing right here."
"Don't waste your time looking everywhere for something that will find you eventually, you know? Ino, for example, can't seem to stop wasting her time with the worst boys –"
"Mother…" Ino interjected.
"This last one actually cheated on her! That was a month ago and now she's already seeing someone new. She's barely been home for a night in ages. And I haven't even met him."
Uh oh. Shikamaru chanced a quick look at Ino, but she had frozen, intently avoiding eye contact.
"Mother, I'm not –" Ino objected abortively, her cheeks coloring.
"Honestly, Ino," Izumi continued, unabashed. "You've got to stop sleeping around with guys like this. It breaks my heart. People will think you're a slut, you know."
Ino just froze, hurt easy to discern on her face.
Alright, it was time to stop this vein of conversation. Shikamaru ground his cigarette butt into the white fence and delicately pried the almost-empty drink from the older woman's hand. "And that's enough of that. Izumi-san, as much as we appreciate the advice, I think it's time to get you back to your birthday celebrations." He began to usher her back inside before Ino spoke up.
"Actually," she declared suddenly, an angry flush to her cheeks. "I've been sleeping over at Shikamaru's."
Shikamaru just froze, Ino's mother in tow.
Izumi eyes were round with shock. "What?" She asked softly, turning to look at Shikamaru like she didn't believe what she was hearing. "Is this true? Why on earth—? "
Shikamaru blinked. What the hell was Ino thinking? This would pretty much guarantee the most troublesome week the two of them would likely ever face, plagued by questions from three sets of parents, not to mention a likely rumor that would spread like the damn plague. He opted not to answer, unwilling to corroborate with (the truthful parts of) Ino's story in case she decided to backpedal later. God, he hoped she would.
"Anyway, there you go. Happy birthday, Mom," Ino finished shortly. She turned to Shikamaru. "I'll wait for you at the bar with Chouji."
And then she just left, leaving Shikamaru to somehow get a drunk and shell-shocked Izumi back inside the house, all the while avoiding her (understandably) numerous questions. Somehow he managed, then left without bidding anyone else goodbye.
He had to talk to Ino.
A/N: Again, reviews are the greatest things ever. A million thanks and all my love to those that took to time to leave me some feedback.
