I don't own Naruto- Woot! First "in fiction" disclaimer! lol
I also don't own anything by Robert Kyle Newton or anything from West Side Story (cookies to those who spot the reference!)
Thanks so much to all who reviewed, especially Sand-Jounin-Temari and ClaimedbytheNight- your reviews made me smile!:D
"Oh my god," Shikamaru groaned as he finished emptying the contents of his stomach into his toilet.
He sat back against the wall, sweating and trying not to pass out.
Apparently, he'd been poisoned.
Not enough to kill him, the doctor reassured his mother but just enough to mean that he'd been throwing up anything and everything he ate for the next week.
After getting sick of throwing up nothing but bile he decided to force himself to eat just to have some solid substance to upchuck.
"Ugh," he managed to choke out as he felt his stomach shift again.
After surviving another round he felt semi normal and decided to crawl back into bed. He was breathing very heavily, dehydrated because every time he drank the water tasted like sick and sweating profusely.
Seventeen, he thought. Seventeen and he'd already been a victim of attempted murder. Just like him. If there was anyone fated to have death threats before they were legally an adult it was him.
Troublesome.
If he could open his mouth without vomiting he would have voiced that opinion.
He heard a knock at the door.
He didn't have the energy to answer.
Shikamaru barely registered the fact that Hinata had entered the room and was now checking his temperature with her hand.
She frowned slightly and moved away from his eyesight.
Then reappeared with a silver tray.
"The food you asked for, Sir?"
Shikamaru was about to answer when Hinata shrieked, dropped the tray and then disappeared out of his eye line again.
It was worth it, Temari reasoned.
Yes, her food had been cut. She'd been handcuffed to the bed- much to the chagrin of the man who brought her here, but the angry woman who she assumed was the lady of the house insisted upon it. Finally, she'd been forced to clean the servant's toilets when she wasn't chained to the bed.
But it was worth it. She'd obviously caused enough trouble to be treated like this.
She snorted.
If they thought she was going to lie down and take this goddamn treatment like a kitten they were wrong.
The room to the door opened.
It was the angry woman. Temari glared at her defiantly- she hoped. Maybe if she caused enough trouble they'd let her go.
The woman said nothing and fished a key out of her pocket. After she unchained Temari, she grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her out the room.
"OW!" Temari said loudly as the woman continued to pull her down the corridors and up the stairs to the main house.
Temari was about to attempt to kick the woman when she was stopped by the view.
The house was..................
Amazing.
Gigantic.
It looked like a palace. The walls were blue and bordered with gold paint. There were white flowers everywhere and Temari couldn't have counted how many vases and pieces of artwork she saw as she passed the front door.
She was pulled up the main staircase which was made of marble. She was too speechless to protest when she realised there was a door being opened and she was being shoved into the room.
Shikamaru managed to sit up slightly in order to search for Hinata and saw that the door to his room had been thrown open.
He saw a whirl of blonde and blue and finally his mother enter.
"There," she snarled. "On your knees you insolent brat," his mother said trying to push the blonde thing to the floor. Shikamaru didn't see her properly because he was too distracted looking for Hinata.
He looked to the left side of his bed and saw Hinata crouched on the floor shaking and whimpering. She looked as if she was about to start praising some deity.
"I don't think she was talking to you," he said to Hinata attempting to calm her down. He understood his mother could be scary but she didn't need to start crying.
"Up off your knees you silly girl!" his mother scolded. "This has nothing to do with you!"
Hinata remained where she was.
Shikamaru looked back to his mother, seeing Hinata as a lost cause.
He stopped.
He suddenly had the energy to sit up properly.
The blonde girl was breathing heavily and glaring at him.
His heart stopped. Her eyes.
She was so far away from him yet he felt as if he was standing face to face her.
Cheesy as it was he could only think of one poem that he had read with Asuma once;
"When the gaze of my eyes meets yours,
My heart starts bleeding and my eyes start weeping."
He wanted to weep. The pain in this girl's eye was unbearable. His heart was bleeding because he would've given anything to remove that pain.
She was too beautiful to be unhappy.
His own ordinary eyes gazed upon her face. He didn't want to look away.
He knew she was wearing a servant's uniform but he didn't want to confirm it with his eyes. That meant she was most likely a slave.
This girl was too exceptional to be a slave. She should've had paintings commissioned of her, poetry written about her, music composed. Anything but this.
This girl was meant to inspire not to serve.
"Who?...." he was about to attempt to voice his thoughts when he was cut off by his mother, obviously still dissatisfied by Hinata's behaviour.
"You!" she said stalking over to Hinata. "When I tell you to get off your knees, you do so, do you understand me?" she growled.
Hinata remained where she was.
"Get off your knees, Hinata," came the girl's voice. It was much stronger and deeper than Shikamaru would've imagined it to be. She spoke with authority. If she had spoken to him like that he would've done anything she wanted.
"Who do you think you are, girl...." his mother started but she stopped when she saw Hinata rise.
Hinata's eyes were red with tears; she was sniffing all over the place and still shaking.
"We are all equals here," the blonde said quietly.
Hinata squeaked.
"Princess Temari," she said in a high shaky voice laden with tears, "I could never hope to be your equal. I have a prayed so many nights that you were safe and alive and here you are. What would you wish me do, Princess?" Hinata said swallowing and kneeling before Temari again.
Princess?
That made sense, Shikamaru thought. She looked the epitome of every description he had ever heard of a Princess.
But there was something else.
Ino, Shikamaru mused, could well have been a Princess. Blonde, blue eyed, pretty and girly.
But there was something in this girl's manner. The way she held her head so high; the proud look in her eyes; the straightened back and shoulders.
The feeling that she gave off- "Worship me, or else."
Shikamaru, himself, had a feeling that if love at first sight existed, that this was it. But he couldn't be sure.
All he knew was that he wanted to talk to her. To hear her voice again. He never wanted to talk to anyone.
He wanted her out of that stupid blue dress. The pearls and diamonds that he saw his mother and Ino prance around in daily. That was what she should be dressed in.
He wanted to do something-anything- to take that sad look out of her eyes. That pain.
His mother's mouth was hanging open. She had that look in her eye that meant she was about to do something that would make Shikamaru ashamed to be related to her.
She stalked over to Hinata and was about to grab her by the scruff but the Princess stepped in front of the girl's kneeling figure. She stared defiantly at his mother.
"Hinata," she said never shifting her gaze from his mother's eyes, "I want you to go down to my room. It's the one opposite the pastry kitchen. Wait for me there. I'll be down in a minute."
"Yes, milady," Hinata sniffed. She stood up, bowed to Temari's back and exited the room.
Shikamaru could see his mother was livid just by staring at the back of her head. She grabbed the girl by her shoulder. Temari didn't wince but Shikamaru did for her. No one should be touching this girl so roughly.
Yoshino proceeded to haul the girl over to the right side of Shikamaru's bed and to force her down on her knees.
"I take it you're Shikamaru," the girl said with a grin on her face and a glint in her eyes. "You enjoy your potatoes?" she said, grin widening.
The effect hearing her say his name had on Shikamaru was lessened by the fact that his mother slapped the girl on the back on the head. Hard.
He glared at his mother as best as he could.
"Apologise," she snarled to Temari.
Shikaku bolted up the stairs as fast as he could.
He had been entering the house with the new gardener Yoshino had ordered him to find, and whilst showing him his room he heard a black haired girl excitedly talking to a small group of people gathered around.
"Our princess," she cried. "Our princess has returned to us. She will surely tell us what to do. Temari was always so wise and fearless. We can rely on her. Our prayers have been answered," she wept joyfully.
The girl stopped as soon as she saw Shikaku. She looked frightened for her life and stepped behind one of the larger cooks.
Shikaku walked over to her.
"Where is she?" he asked her as authoritatively as he could. He really didn't want to frighten her but the way she had been talking.....it sounded as if......as if they dreamt of revolution. If that got out, they would be executed for treason. Shikaku refused to let that happen to them. Even if they hated his guts.
The girl stayed silent.
"I don't want to hurt her. I need to make sure she is safe. If the army finds out she is here they will execute her in case she attempts to restore the Sunan Monarchy. You need to tell me where she is so I can protect her."
Shikaku gazed into the girl's eyes attempting to make her understand.
"Hinata, don't!" one of the younger men interjected, when the girl opened her mouth to speak.
"In your son's room," the girl said quietly, not looking at him.
He thanked Hinata as earnestly as he could and ran towards the hall.
As soon as he made it to Shikamaru's room, he pushed the door open and was greeted by a very peculiar sight.
His son was sitting up in bed for one. That was new.
Temari- he should've known it would have been her- was kneeling at the bed smirking at Shikamaru and Yoshino was behind her, her hand pressing on Temari's shoulder and a look of extreme violence on her face.
Then two heads turned to look at him.
All in the room, except Shikamaru's. He never took his eyes off the girl's face. Shikaku kept looking at his son. Pleading, praying that his eyes would move. Flicker. Blink. Anything to tell Shikaku that he hadn't already fallen in love.
But they never moved.
Inwardly, Shikaku actually felt his heart sink. As if things weren't bad enough already.
He breathed, before looking at Yoshino.
"Let her off the floor, dear."
"Not until she apologises. He was up all night throwing up. He hasn't been this bad since he was a baby. The harlot is not getting up until she apologises," Yoshino spat out.
"Mum," he heard his son speak, "let her up. Please."
His son had never said please in his life. Not that he was rude. Just that he never asked for anything. Most of anything that he could ever need or want was supplied for him before he even had the chance to ask.
Yoshino obviously noticed this too. She stared open-mouthed at the boy for a moment before her hand slipped off Temari's shoulder.
Temari got up off her knees, brushed her dress down and looked at Shikamaru.
"Thanks," she said giving him a wry smile, "sorry 'bout the vomiting. Next time I'll just make sure I get the bitch's plate," she finished tilting her head towards his wife.
Temari then winked at him and sauntered out of the room, elbowing Shikaku in the ribs before she exited.
"Can you believe the gall of that girl?!" Yoshino asked incredulously. "I swear Nara Shikaku, you really can pick them! 'Next time', as if there will be a next time! The INSOLENCE! She is NOT working in the kitchen anymore! Where in God's green earth will I put her?! She'd probably put itching powder in our beds if she cleaned!"
His wife's complaining continued all down the hall, long after she had left the room.
Shikaku shut the door.
He hadn't failed to notice the dumbstruck look on his son's face. He was obviously finding out about women and their smiles. Temari hadn't even properly smiled at Shikamaru. He didn't want to think what would happen if she did.
His wife's plans with Ino were in severe danger and she didn't even know it. He had to nip this in the bud before there was a war going on in his own back garden.
"You okay?" he asked making his way over to Shikamaru's bed and sitting on the edge of it.
His son nodded, still obviously lost in thought.
"She's a Sunan," Shikaku said firmly, never moving his eyes from Shikamaru's face.
The boy's eyes fell to his knees.
"She's a Sunan Princess," he pressed. "There is no way that......"
"I know," Shikamaru cut in sharply, still studying his knees. "I know, okay?"
So this was it, Shikaku mused. This was the time when Shikamaru would finally realise what his lifelong engagement to Ino actually meant. What he would lose. The restraints it would place on him. On his emotions.
He had never wanted this for his son. But right now he could see the reason for Yoshino's meticulous planning. "The wrong person" she had said at the time. It was all to prevent Ino and Shikamaru running off with "the wrong person". A Sunan, by definition, was exactly the "wrong person".
If Shikaku could ever say he hoped for anything in his life, it was that Shikamaru would never have discovered those restraints.
But he had. Too quickly. And it wasn't the prevention of travel as Inoichi had predicted. Nor was it Ino who had fallen in love with another man.
It was forbidden fruit if he had ever seen it.
A beautiful, exotic, desirable, older woman with a killer smile and a feisty attitude. How could Shikamaru not have fallen? Shikaku had told his son of the Nara curse and the led him right into the trap.
This was his fault. He should've known it would've happened sooner or later and yet he kept tempting fate by bringing more and more young women home.
"What should I do?" he heard the boy mumble.
Parenting. It had never been his strong suit. Well, he could never bring Shikamaru up in the way Yoshino wanted him to be brought up. He wanted his son to be....happy. Compassionate.
Yoshino wanted him to be rich. Powerful. Influential. Notable.
The result of the two attempts at bringing the boy up differently was...apathy. Lethargy. Laziness.
Thus, here he was. It was him. He had to make the decision how to raise his son. This was probably the final time the boy would ever ask for his advice. And it was about love. How he answered this question would govern Shikamaru for the rest of his life.
If he took Yoshino's route he would say, "You're engaged to Ino. You made a commitment and you are now a man. Men follow through on commitments."
If he took his own he would tell him to follow his heart. "True love is rare. Even rarer is to have the ability to act on it. You have the girl here. Now. Don't let her get away."
Shikamaru was now looking at him. Shikaku hadn't been ready for this moment.
So he did what his son would expect him to do. He proved to the boy that he was in fact "whipped" as he said.
Shikaku looked at his son and told him all about being a man, making commitments and keeping them. And as he looked at Shikamaru he saw the youth slip out of his eyes.
And he felt the pride slip out of his own.
But, it was all for the best.
Shikamaru had lost his heart to a Sunan Princess, but Konoha still had his brain.
