Shikamaru awoke with a start as a heavy knocking sound echoed through the silent house. Rubbing his head and looking around sleepily, he slowly came into consciousness and realized that he had fallen asleep at his work desk. The digital clock, its numbers glowing a neon green, revealed that it was only a little past seven. Heat poured from the small desk lamp beside him, overheating from being on too long. The sound of rain pattering against the window reverberated through the wooden walls, and he supposed that the weather had lulled him to sleep. With a yawn, he rose from the office chair as the knocking came once more.

"I'm coming!" he called as he hurriedly walked up the hallway, wondering who could be visiting in such weather. As he opened the door, he was surprised to find Ino standing there underneath an umbrella, smiling cheerfully. "Ino," he blinked. "I wasn't expecting you. Do you need something?"

"Oh, no. I was just making sure that Shikadai got home safe since I was on my way home from the shop," she remarked casually. Shikamaru felt his heart stop, and he stepped forward into the threshold.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, voice rising. Ino's face fell into an expression of half-confusion and half-worry.

"Shikadai came by my shop about half an hour ago to get a flower for his teacher, something about apologizing for taking her gardening apron… You mean you didn't know?" she asked. Shikamaru ignored her, instead whipping around to stumble down the hall and throw open the door to his son's room. He found it empty, with water soaking the floor from where it had blown through the open window. He heard the rush of soft footsteps behind him as Ino, extremely concerned, ran in after him. "He snuck out?" she gasped.

"I have a good idea of where he might be. I just hope he made it there," Shikamaru frowned.

"Shikadai!" Ayumi cried, bustling the dripping wet boy into the house and quickly shutting the door behind him. "What are you doing out in this weather, and what are you doing alone at this time of night?' she fretted, pushing him into the bathroom and grabbing a towel to hurriedly dry him off. The boy squirmed as she patted him down with the fluffy linen, holding the bedraggled flower above his head in the hopes it wouldn't get crushed.

"I came to give you this!" he cried between dabs at his face. As Ayumi removed the towel, he dropped his hands to show her the daffodil cupped in them, soil crumbling to the floor. "It was in a pot, but… I kinda broke it," he admitted shyly. He gasped as Ayumi suddenly wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, and he felt her start shaking. To his shock, the woman had begun to cry. "Do you not like it?" he asked guiltily.

"No, of course I do. It was just such a reckless thing to do, Shikadai! I can't believe your father would send you out in this, by yourself!" she cried, regaining her composure and pulling back. She frowned deeply when the young boy looked down remorsefully at the ground, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Well… Daddy doesn't know I left," he murmured faintly.

"What? Shikadai, you snuck out?" Ayumi cried incredulously. The boy flinched, not meeting her gaze. "Why on Earth would you do such a thing? Don't you know how dangerous it is for you to wander the village at night, let alone in the rain? What if you had gotten lost- or worse, kidnapped?" she scolded profusely. She stopped when she heard Shikadai sniffle, and he raised a soil-covered hand to rub his tear-filled eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss Ayumi," he sniffed, struggling not to sob. "Daddy and I had a fight. I thought you would be happy to see me…" Ayumi remained silent for a moment, then sighed heavily and reached out to affectionately stroke the boy's head.

"I am happy to see you, because I'm happy you're safe," she smiled, standing up and gently pushing on his back to guide him back into the living room. "Now, let's get you a pot for that flower," she mused as she settled him down on the living room couch and walked over to a hallway closet that contained her gardening supplies. She brought over a small pot and a bag of soil, and together the pair potted the small daffodil. She carried it over to the windowsill above the kitchen sink and placed it beside alongside the small succulents growing there before boosting the child up so he could wash his hands. Outside, the weather continued to worsen. When his hands were finally clean, she carried him over to the couch and set him down, wrapping him in a thick blanket. Shikadai then sneezed loudly.

"I don't feel so good now," he frowned as he sniffled and pulled the blanket tightly around him, enjoying the cozy warmth.

"You've probably caught a cold walking all this way through the rain like that," Ayumi sighed, walking into the kitchen to fix him a warm drink. The young boy took it gratefully and sipped at the beverage while Ayumi sat down on the couch next to him. "Now… What did you and your father argue about?" she asked. Shikadai ignored the question for a long while, continuously sipping at the warm drink before he worked up the courage to tell her the truth.

"You," he muttered. The reply caught the young teacher by surprise, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Me?" she frowned. Shikadai nodded sadly and looked away.

"Mhmm. Daddy said he was worried about how much time I've been spending with you. I tried to make him understand that you're really nice and just want to be friends, but he got all weird about it!" he pouted, causing Ayumi to chuckle slightly.

"Well, he's just being a good father. Any parent should worry when another adult grows too close to their child. I suppose this is partially my fault," she frowned, jumping when Shikadai angrily shook his head.

"No way! It's not your fault Daddy is dumb and doesn't understand," he huffed and crossed his small arms. "Besides, he wasn't mad about that. He got really mad when I said you were like my mommy," he continued. Ayumi was struck silent with shock, unable to handle such a comparison. It was both gratifying and worrying that she would be compared to Shikadai's mother, of all people. Uncomfortable at the extended silence, Shikadai looked up at her worriedly. "You aren't going to get mad at me too, are you, Miss Ayumi?" he whispered.

"No. I'm not angry," the woman sighed, pulling the young boy into a hug. "I'm very happy to hear you say that, but your father is right, you know. I am not your mother, and you shouldn't see me in such a way. I'm your teacher… I can still be your friend, though- provided your father approves. Ultimately, he is the final decision-maker," she explained carefully. To her relief, the boy did not throw a tantrum, but surprisingly conceded.

"I know. He just acts like a big dummy sometimes because he misses Mommy so much," he sighed. Again, Ayumi found herself wondering what happened to remove Shikamaru's wife from the picture. The image was slowly becoming clearer the more time she spent with the broken family, and Ayumi was highly certain now that Shikadai's mother was no longer in the picture at all. It broke her heart to see the boy and his father suffer so much from the pain, and see them drive each other apart because of it. She glanced over the back of the couch as there came a loud knock at the door. "Stay here and keep warm," she instructed the boy as she rose from the couch and walked to the threshold. She pulled open the door and was not surprised at all to find Shikamaru, soaked to the bone from running through the pouring rain, standing in her doorway.

"Ayumi," he puffed, but she held up a hand before he could even speak.

"He's here. No get in here; you'll catch your death out here, ninja or not," she said firmly, stepping inside to let the confused man past. He walked past her, slipping out of his muddy shoes and walking into the living room, dripping water as he went. Ayumi came behind him, retrieving a towel and handing it to him while she mopped up the floor with the other.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't apologize to me. You have someone else to apologize to," she remarked casually. Blushing slightly in embarrassment, Shikamaru dried himself off as much as he could before sitting down on the couch beside Shikadai, still huddling in the blanket. An awkward silence pervaded the pair, and neither made eye contact.

"… Are you cold, Daddy?" the young boy asked finally and looked up at him. Without waiting for an answer, he stood up on the couch to drape half of the blanket over his father's head. Smiling weakly, Shikamaru pulled it around him with one arm, and his son closer with the other.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into his son's hair, closing his eyes. Shikadai wrapped his arms around Shikamaru's neck, burying his face into him.

"I'm sorry too, Daddy," the young boy echoed, his voice muffled by the fabric of the man's shirt. "It's okay if you're mad. I shouldn't have run away," he sighed.

"No, I'm not angry. You just scared me. I thought I lost you," Shikamaru whispered softly as he rubbed his son's back. As Ayumi watched the heartwarming scene from the kitchen, she could see his shoulders barely shaking.

"I'm not gonna leave, Daddy. I promise," Shikadai reassured as he hugged his father tightly. He then jumped back when Shikamaru sneezed loudly, and then began laughing. He was interrupted when he sneezed in turn, and then the both of them were laughing. Ayumi smiled softly as she gazed at them from the kitchen, pleased at the happy ending. She carried a steaming cup over to Shikamaru.

"Here. This should help," she smiled softly as he took the cup from her. She felt her heart skip a beat as he smiled back at her. She was once again reminded of just how handsome the man looked when he smiled, and she hurriedly backed away, struggling to control her pounding heartbeat. Come on, Ayumi, don't get in such a tizzy over the father of one of your students! It's unprofessional! She scolded herself silently.

"Ayumi, wait," Shikamaru cried as she went to make a hasty exit. She reluctantly stopped in her tracks and turned, plastering a "good host smile" on her face.

"Yes? Do you need anything else?" she inquired, the corner of her mouth twitching as the man rose from his spot on the couch and walked over to stand in front of her.

"I need to apologize to you, too," he admitted awkwardly. Ayumi sighed, closing her eyes and nodding.

"Shikadai told me what you said. I'm not angry with you; actually, I think you were right," she explained, looking back up at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, caught off-guard at the surprising remark. He rubbed the back of his neck clumsily, looking down at the wooden flooring in embarrassment.

"S-Still, I was wrong to be so mistrustful of you," he continued, glancing over at the couch, where Shikadai had curled up in the blanket and drifted off to sleep. "You're really good with him."

"I guess I see a little of myself in him," she admitted quietly, and the man turned back to her with an expression of mild surprise. Jumping at the slip-up, she hastily bowed her head to him, unwilling to reveal any more about herself. "Anyway, I accept your apology. You both are welcome to stay here until the weather blows over, and the night if need be," she offered graciously before walking down the hall to disappear into her bedroom. Shikamaru watched her as she went, finding that he was captivated by her. He was struck by the sudden realization that he had to know more about her, everything about her; he was pulled out of the strange urge as Shikadai murmured something incomprehensible and rolled over on the couch, and with a heavy sigh he returned to the living room to lay down beside his son, staring up at the ceiling as the rain continued to pound the roof above.