Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Still.
A/N: Short, I know, but I had to end it here to make way for the next chapter. Enjoy! Thank you for all the reviews!

Chapter Nine: Remembering

Shikamaru watched the newest team of three march off with their sensei to begin their first mission. While his eyes followed the exaggerated movements of a particularly enthusiastic genin, his mind lay elsewhere.

He'd had another dream about him last night and now he wouldn't go away.

He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. Ever since he'd begun his job at the mission outpost, he'd had little time to sit and think on his own accord. He was either busy with the job itself or too tired afterward to form a coherent thought before he drifted off to sleep. Temari said it was good for him; Shikamaru disagreed. Having little time to think of Konoha only made the heartache that much stronger in the rare moment he did have time to remember.

A yawn escaped his lips as he stretched his arms above his head. His mind swelled from one topic to the next; first he dwelled on Konoha itself, then his parents. Slowly he thought of Sasuke and their mission to 'rescue' him; this left behind a bitter taste, much like drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth, and so he thought on Ino and Chouji, who had a way of making him smile even in the darkest of times. Then he remembered Asuma and nearly fell out of his chair.

"Watch it, newbie," Kankurou grunted as he caught the back of Shikamaru's chair and stopped him from falling over.

"Can I help you?" Shikamaru asked as he righted his chair.

"Temari wants you to stop by the office for lunch," the puppet master replied. He started to walk away when he paused and looked back at Shikamaru. "You'd better be careful; if she doesn't hurt you, Gaara and I will."

"What are- Hey, I'm not going to try anything," Shikamaru protested. "There's a reason they call me a genius."

"You saying Temari isn't good enough?" Kankurou prodded Shikamaru's chest; the latter scowled.

"I didn't say that."

"Then what did you-"

"Excuse me." Both men froze, turning to see who had spoken. Temari stood in the doorway of the building, arms folded across her chest. Kankurou released the front of Shikamaru's vest and Shikamaru let go of his hold on Kankuro's wrist. "Hope I'm not interrupting something important."

"No-"

"We weren't doing-"

"Good." Her eyes narrowed. "Hey, crybaby, come on; the food's getting cold." She turned and marched down the stairs. After a pause and a fleeting glance at Kankurou, Shikamaru followed, muttering about his new nickname; he'd preferred pineapple head. He quickly caught up with Temari and blew a wisp of hair from his eyes with a sigh.

"There some special occasion I forgot or something?" Shikamaru asked as they stepped inside the Kazekage's building.

"No," Temari replied. "What, a girl can't have lunch with her friends anymore?"

"I guess not. But you're not usually so..."

"Generous?" Temari grinned. "Hey, you weren't one of us then, were you?" Her grin faded. "Besides, it's not like I've ever been the best at making friends, anyway."

"Hey, I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know; spare me the lecture and dig in."

They arrived in her office. On the desk lay an assortment of food; Shikamaru could almost picture Chouji drooling. The thought reminded him yet again of Asuma and he fell silent, sitting across from Temari and slowly starting his meal. Several slow minutes passed, in which they ate and Shikamaru avoided all contact. At last it was too much to bear.

"Shikamaru, are you all right?" Temari asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"I'm fine," Shikamaru replied quietly. He sighed. "I can't work tomorrow."

"W-What? Why? You should have requested the time off weeks ago!"

"I know, I got distracted and- look, I just need the next few days off, all right?"

"Shikamaru, you'll be fired if you take it off. You can't afford to lose your job!"

"I don't have a choice."

"What is so important that you'd risk everything you've done?"

"... Tomorrow is the day Asuma died," Shikamaru said at last. He stared at the floor. "Three years ago tomorrow we was killed." Temari opened her mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. "Chouji, Ino and I always go back every year and spend a few hours... I have to at least visit the monument. I can't just pretend it never happened. The last few days I haven't had time to think of Konoha, I - I forgot he was dead."

"No," Temari managed at last. "No! You can't go back! Not only will you lose your job, Shikamaru they'll kill you! You can't go back!"

"And what do you care!" Shikamaru yelled. He stood. "What does anyone here care? You think I don't notice! They all think I'm nothing but Konoha trash! If I die they'll be glad I'm gone!"

"But I won't!" She wiped at her eyes as Shikamaru looked away, glaring at the wall. "If you die- Shikamaru, if you die-"

"You'll what?" he hissed. "Temari, this is something I have to do. They won't see me; I'll visit the monument at night. No one will know I was there."

"For God's sake, Shikamaru, he wasn't your father!"

"At least he would have believed I was innocent!"

"So does your real father!"

"My father wanted to kill me, Temari! Does that sound like he believed I was innocent? I was nothing but a disgrace; he wanted me gone!" His fist collided with the tabletop, eyes squeezed shut to prevent his sudden onslaught of tears from showing. There was a long silence; Shikamaru was not sure what Temari did, but the next time she spoke she was sitting behind her desk.

"... If you have to go, I won't stop you," she said at last, her voice no more than a whisper. "But I can't help you with your job or getting back to Konoha. You'll have to take that up with Gaara." He heard papers being shuffled and a pen as she began to write. "Please leave, Shikamaru; I have work to do."

Shikamaru marched from her office without another word. Once outside he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. As soon as he calmed, he moved away from the wall, heading down the hallway toward Gaara's office. He was going to return to Konoha, but he did not intend to die.

He would need a job when he returned.

His chuunin vest lay discarded on the bed behind him. He faced the mirror hanging on the wall, glaring at his reflection with the intensity of a staring match. His long-sleeved shirt and pants were black, his hair unruly atop his head. This could almost be considered a stealth mission; he'd need all the cover he could get. Gaara had given him five days; four would consist of high-speed traveling.

He could not afford to be caught.

Shikamaru fingered the chakra blades hidden in his pockets. He hoped against hope that he would not be forced to use them, especially against someone he knew, but if he was caught there would be no choice.

As he neared the gates of Suna, he stared back at the city that had become him home. What before had seemed such a foreboding place now held a warm atmosphere. There were many that despised him and many more still that respected him and gave him a home.

It was not until Suna had disappeared from view that he dared to look back. He was surrounded by the wilderness, a mix of desert and forest; the landscape was torn between forest and desert and Shikamaru felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest and spread out for the world to see.