*Well, I should be doing my Psych hw, but I'm just far too lazy (senioritis, man). I'd much rather update anyway! I'm thinking of updating Neighborhood too. I've got a chapter written that I've been neglecting to update for a few days now. Whatever. Anyway, I'm in a great mood today (I've been watching lots of LK on youtube), so let's do this thing! Chapter 4. Hope you guys enjoy.
Notes: Shikamaru and Neji are also good friends in this; they'd make a great pair those two, even if they're only just friends. Also, I've never actually had cold somen, but it sounded good, and it's probably something you'd like to eat in the summer. And, btw, I really have no idea how shogi works so…please excuse the vagueness around that area (seriously I'm just like, "Shikamaru moved the shogi piece…yeah").
WARNING: Any medical knowledge that Kaiser attempts to portray is actually butchered information that she received from high school level Anatomy, high school level Psychology, and the Discovery Channel.
I sincerely apologize to any med students out there who spend this time laughing their asses off.
Chapter 4: Past—Shikamaru and Neji
It had been a few weeks since Neji's nineteenth birthday—the third of July. Neji had never been a huge fan of his birthday. It was never celebrated. As a Branch House member, it used to mean that he had gone another year without being slaughtered by the Main House. As a shinobi, it used to mean that he had gone another year without dying in combat, but things had changed since those days. Neji had run away from his clan and eloped with the love of his life, Rock Lee. He was no longer considered to be a Hyuuga; he was kicked out after the elders found out about his relationship with Lee; his name had been burned off of the Hyuuga family tapestry, and he was never to return. Even so, Neji did not mind. In fact, his first course of action as a "free" man had been to take the name Namikaze in honor of his dear mother. Namikaze Neji. His parents would have been proud.
Still, since he was a Namikaze, a birthday now meant that he had gone another year without deteriorating to the point of death. He was still alive and kicking, but barely.
Neji felt something on the horizon. The fourth stage of the disease was looming over his head. He was just a couple years away from his mother's turning point, when all had gone to hell. Every birthday was just another reminder that soon, Neji would begin to experience a slow and painful death, and his poor, dear Lee would have to watch all of it.
Nevertheless, there was one thing that made Neji's birthdays wonderful: waking up in a warm bed, in the only true home he had ever had. Having his sweet Lee lean over him, lightly kiss him and smile. "Happy Birthday, my love," he would whisper, and all would be well with the world. True, Neji hated his birthdays, but he loved his Lee.
However, that was only on the back of his mind now (being a few weeks later). He was more focused on his journey to see Shikamaru at his apartment. The Nara had been inviting him over a lot lately. He had said that he just wanted a shogi partner, but Neji knew better: Shikamaru was worried about him, so much so that he could not help but to check in on him whenever he could. Lee was off on another mission when the Nara had asked earlier that day; Neji thought that the company would be nice.
He had gone to sleep the night before, happy that he would have someone to talk to while Lee was gone. It was lonely being one of the only people in his age group that did not take regular missions. Neji was practically a retired-shinobi at this point (though he was occasionally given missions around the village). But that morning, he had woken feeling awful. His head pounded like a drum, steady and rhythmic, harmonizing with his heartbeat. He had vomited up his breakfast, and his shaking had worsened. Luckily his breathing was normal, but still his dizziness had increased, indicating that his fever was on the rise. And worst of all, his sight was beginning to fail him. His field of vision would warp and fade, making it difficult to see even two feet in front of him, but it came and went: sometimes, he felt completely blind, while other times his vision would be back to its perfect twenty-twenty.
Even through this pain, Neji wanted to see Shikamaru, so he decided to force himself to head over to the Nara's apartment. The journey was horrid. He felt as if he was tuning in and out of reality as he walked. He would often find himself lost, having turned the wrong direction a long ways back.
Eventually, he found the correct apartment and courteously knocked. A wave of nausea hit him. Neji felt on the brink of collapse. By the time Shikamaru finally opened the door, the brunette collapsed into his open arms. The Nara helped the other to the ground, hoping to aid his friend in need. "Hey, hang in there," whispered Shikamaru. "God, I'm going to your house next time. It's not worth getting you this sick every time I want a shogi partner." Neji found himself being pulled into the living room. The brunette mumbled incoherently, as Shikamaru attempted to lay him on the couch. "Shh, shh, sh, Neji, you're okay. I got you. You're in good hands." Neji nodded lightly, head pounding from sheer exhaustion. He let out a sigh. "Well, looks like shogi's outta the question tonight." Neji shook his head vigorously, or at least, as vigorously as someone in his position could. "Do you really want to play that badly?" The brunette managed a small smile.
"No, but I know you do." Shikamaru opened his mouth to retaliate, but closed it, realizing that he was dealing with someone who was secretly just as stubborn as Rock Lee or Uzumaki Naruto. The Nara sighed.
"All right, all right, we'll play, but you have to rest first. Take a nap; then we'll play." Neji inwardly shrugged, deciding that Shikamaru's conditions were fair enough.
"Okay," he murmured. Still, the Nara practically forced him to lie back down before grabbing a blanket from the other room to cover Neji with.
"Get some sleep," he continued, to which Neji nodded. Shikamaru turned to give Neji some space, but Neji spoke first.
"Shikamaru…thank you." The genius just smiled, knowing that it was answer enough.
When Neji awoke from his "nap," he was surprised to find that the sun was setting. Shikamaru had had a point: to have slept for this long, Neji really must have been tired. He let out a soft sigh, readjusting himself to the waking world. Still, the brunette was a bit worried; he could not hear Shikamaru moving about the apartment. Everything was quiet, as if the coming night had silenced even the insects.
Stretching out, Neji decided that it would be best to search the apartment for signs of the Nara, just in case something had happened. If Shikamaru had gone out, he would have at least left Neji a note. He slowly stood as to not dizzy himself. He moved to look around; however, he did not have to look far, as Shikamaru was only a few feet away, lying on the floor with his back to Neji. The slow rise and fall of the Nara's chest could mean only that he was sleeping. Neji could not help the fond smile that crossed his face. Shikamaru must have been worried enough to not want to leave the room, but since nothing of interest had really occurred, the genius simply fell asleep.
Neji grabbed the blanket and a spare pillow from the couch. Shikamaru may have been a special jounin, but so was Neji. The brunette probably could not move the Nara to a bed without waking him, but pulling a blanket over him in his own home might not be pushing it. Neji crept over to the sleeping boy (really more of a man now that he was to turn eighteen in a month or so), and ever-so-gently lifted his head just enough to place a pillow under it. He then pulled the blanket over the other and stepped away, contented with his work. "Sleep well, Shikamaru," Neji whispered.
Neji then made his way into the kitchen to look through Shikamaru's cabinets and refrigerator. "He'll probably be hungry when he wakes up," the brunette mused as he scoured the cabinets for ingredients. "Let's see… Oh perfect! It looks like I can make cold somen." With a satisfied nod, Neji began to cook.
Shikamaru awoke a little later, surprised to find himself covered with a blanket. Suddenly, it clicked: Neji. The Nara smiled, happy that the brunette felt well enough to get out of bed (couch in this case) and walk around. In fact, Shikamaru could have sworn that he smelled something cooking, something good. Shikamaru had not smelled home-cooking like this since he left his parents' house. With a sigh, the Nara forced himself up to see what his friend was up to.
Shikamaru rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before getting up and heading over to the kitchen. He did not go out of his way to hide his presence from Neji (as giving a shinobi a "pleasant surprise" has been known to be fatal). The brunette turned almost immediately after Shikamaru entered the kitchen. "How was your nap?" asked Neji with a smile. However, the addressed did not respond; instead, he crossed the kitchen to the stove and began scrutinizing Neji, as if searching for anything out of place. The white-eyed man frowned in confusion, unsure of what to make of the gesture, but when Shikamaru finally placed a hand on his forehead, he understood. "Fever?" he asked the Nara.
Shikamaru shrugged, "A little, it's better though." Neji gave a small nod.
Without further ado, Neji finished up the cooking and gave Shikamaru a rather hearty serving. However, the brunette gave himself none. He merely sat down across from Shikamaru and flashed him an encouraging smile. The Nara frowned.
"Oi, Neji," he called a bit hesitantly. "Aren't you gonna have any? It's possibly the best somen I've ever eaten."
Neji did not meet Shikamaru's eyes as he murmured, "Thank you, Shikamaru, but I'm not very hungry." The latter raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. Neji sighed, knowing that it was practically physically impossible to lie to Shikamaru. "I'm…having a bad day…" he confessed. Shikamaru frowned, silently asking for more elaboration. He was not disappointed. "I haven't been able to keep food down lately." At this, Shikamaru set down his chopsticks. He made his way over to where Neji was sitting and pulled the brunette into a curt hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Can I do anything for you? I could make you broth or rice? Something easy on your stomach." Neji just shook his head, lightly smiling at the younger.
"Maybe later," he suggested. But Shikamaru knew that that was about as good as a "no," coming from Neji at least. "But, let's forget about this," Neji deflected any further arguments with a smile. "Let's get out a shogi board, you can eat while we play." Shikamaru could not help the small smile that crossed his face at Neji's enthusiasm.
"Okay," Shikamaru reluctantly agreed. "I'll get the game out; you set up the table." With a small nod from Neji, Shikamaru headed over to his closet to search for his illusive and ever-moving shogi board.
By the time they actually began to play, Shikamaru's dinner was starting to get colder. Still, it tasted good, to say the least, and Shikamaru ate all of it very quickly. Neji just smiled.
Shikamaru made his first move, knowing Neji's usual strategies and tendencies, and planning for every single one of them. However, a few moves into the game, Neji made a mistake. A beginner's mistake. One that Shikamaru had not seen him make for years. The Nara gazed at Neji, confused. The brunette simply stared back, showing no signs of deception. It would seem that Neji had truly made the bad move on accident. Still, just in case, Shikamaru adapted his plan to compensate for a feint on Neji's part.
The game was moving fast, far too fast. Ten or so minutes into it, when Shikamaru usually had taken a quarter (or even a fifth) of Neji's pieces, he had already taken over half. Neji, who was normally catching up somewhat to Shikamaru by now, had not been able to take any of Shikamaru's pieces. The Nara was baffled. He looked up at the brunette again, hoping for an explanation. Instead, Neji simply shook his head, awed at Shikamaru's apparent "prowess."
"Wow, Shikamaru," he murmured. "You're getting so good. You haven't beaten me like this in years." After that, Shikamaru could no longer meet Neji's eyes.
"Yeah," he agreed half-heartedly. "I must be having a really good day." Neji did not even notice his dishonesty. "Neji," he thought soberly, "I'm not getting better; you're getting worse." Once the Nara had realized this, he could no longer bear to keep playing. "Neji," he addressed after a few moments, "I…" Suddenly, he found himself unable to think of anything to say. "I've got to go," he managed. He quickly stood, strode over to the bathroom, closed the door behind him, and collapsed against the door. He buried his face in his hands. "Oh God," he murmured to himself. "I never thought…he…he's actually losing his ability to think logically…"
Shikamaru could not believe it. His friend was spiraling downwards even faster than he had ever predicted. Neji had just turned nineteen, and already he was losing his cognitive functions like an Alzheimer's patient. How much worse would Neji get? Would he lose the ability to function on his own? If so, then how fast? How much time did he have left with Neji?
For the first time since Shikamaru had watched Neji collapse on the battlefield, coughing up blood, the brunette's imminent mortality had never seemed so clear.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Shikamaru? Is everything all right?" Shikamaru could not find the will the respond. "Shikamaru? Shikamaru?" There was a pause. "I'm coming in, okay?" After another moment, Neji opened the door. He stepped into the bathroom, gazing down at Shikamaru's form against the wall. "Shikamaru," he called again, kneeling beside the Nara. He frowned upon seeing Shikamaru's melancholy expression. "What's wrong?"
Shikamaru just shook his head; his eyes filled with unshed tears. The next thing he knew, he was pulled into a powerful embrace. It was gentle but strong, exactly like Neji. This warmth, this vitality, this kindness wound soon be snuffed out like a candle. How long would it be before Neji no longer had the strength to even wrap his arms around another person? How many more years, months, would Neji be able to recognize Shikamaru? Be conscious enough to speak to him?
Shikamaru had not even realized that he was crying until Neji gently rubbed his back and whispered, "Shikamaru, shhh, it's going to be all right. Please don't cry. Tell me what's wrong, and I'll try to fix it." This only made Shikamaru cry harder. There was no way to fix what Neji had. It was an inevitable decline, an inevitable death. "Shikamaru?"
The Nara took in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he managed. Neji smiled softly.
"For what?" Shikamaru just shook his head.
"Everything."