"When others asked the truth of me, I was convinced it was not the truth they wanted, but an illusion they could bear to live with." ~ Anaïs Nin.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Shikamaru has never thought of himself as someone opposed to evolving. Nothing stays one way forever. He presses his tongue against his crooked canine tooth, wanting another cigarette. He stops and shoves a hand under a sleeve to scratch his arm.
Rules are invisible constructs. No thing is infrangible—whether it's made up of matter or the manifestation of a human thought. He peers out the window, Konoha's colorful buildings soak up the midday sunlight.
Swilling spit in his mouth, Shikamaru decides to just live with the colossal fuck up of being in love, for the second damn time, and being the way he is. Hard-headed. His passivity has morphed into indecisiveness. He can't stand himself. His own vague reflection in the window makes him ill. Footsteps creep up on him but he doesn't twitch. He continues to stare into the blue sky.
"I guess punctuality isn't your strong suit?" Tenten stands next to him clutching a binder.
"Sorry for dragging my feet. I had a weird start this morning," he says to her reflection first, then turns to face her. The flush of his skin hasn't worn off either. Tenten doesn't smile and he can't place why he expects her to.
"I won't tattle. We've got..." she looks down at her watch, "exactly an hour and thirty minutes to come up with something for Kakashi."
"Deadlines blow." He massages his ear without an earring.
"I'm not too worried about it. You're resourceful, Shikamaru."
He follows her down the hall, continuing to pull at his earlobe.
"I honestly think I'm sick of hearing that. I'm not that resourceful. I just know the right questions to ask." He doesn't say it with confidence. Tenten doesn't miss it either. She makes a sound like a laugh.
"Ok. You're book smart but have no common sense. I gotcha." She snorts.
"Human." He corrects her.
"For someone with such a high IQ, you're very simple minded."
"So it's bad that I don't have an inflated ego? Damned if you do. Damned if you don't." Shikamaru's face burns.
"You don't need an inflated ego, but you've got modesty all backwards." She gestures with her fingers at her temple.
Shikamaru places a hand on her shoulder, anchoring her to a stop. Her earrings swing sideways as she tilts her head back.
"Hey, look, we don't know each other like that. Let's cool it with the snap judgments." He speaks forcibly calm. Lightning could strike him down where he stands and he'd be okay if that means never having to endure his personage measured ever again.
Tenten mirrors his concentrated glower, perfects it. He gets this strong sense that her eyes are so dark because she too is hiding an extreme flaw. She picks his hand from her shoulder, pinching his middle finger.
"We've got work to do, Nara. Naruto is waiting." And that is all she says to him.
Squeezing his thumb inside of a fist, he drops his hand to his side. Tenten steps slowly down the hallway.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"So what have you been doing with yourself for… how many years has it been?"
Ino waits two minutes before she answers Choji's question. She puts away the jug of orange juice, drumming her fingers against the door of the fridge.
"Just living one day at a time." The optimistic way of saying 'nothing.' Sai had taken up most of her mental headspace. A lot of that time she spent waiting around for him to come home whole from missions, not dealing with the ramifications of her self-neglect. She'd gone years without really talking.
"Nothing," Choji says bluntly. Ino snorts.
"That makes me sound so depressing." She shuts the fridge.
"You and Shikamaru love to save face. I don't know why. It's just me." He finishes stuffing a cabinet with junk food that she swore she'd eat.
"What do you mean?" She arches a brow.
"You guys deflect. He's way better at it than you though."
Ino closes her mouth. Choji notices the sudden change in her mood.
"I can only speak for myself. I'm sure he has good reasons." She twists a lock of hair between her fingers.
"Probably. He's been different all year to be honest."
"In what way, Cho?"
Choji lets out a shaky sigh. He snaps open a cola can. She rarely drinks sodas, but he bought them. So now she had to indulge herself.
"I think he and Temari had a bad breakup. She went to Suna and never came back. He just started showing up without her. Never said a word until I asked." He slurps from the can looking hard at nothing but space.
She remembers Temari and Shikamaru being inseparable.
"He's never talked about her to me." Ino has never wanted the details. She's curious but not at her own expense.
"She's an asshole. He's an asshole too. There's no telling. She didn't leave behind a damn thing in his apartment." Choji drinks his cola like it's water. "Women leave things behind when they plan on coming back."
"Not always. Sometimes we just forget." Ino thinks about Temari as an individual for the first time.
"You forget because you know, deep down, that you're not going anywhere." He clearly speaks from a place of experience.
Ino looks down at the knot she tied in her shirt, sitting right above her belly button.
"I guess you're right. Most of the time that's the case." She notices that where her abs used to be defined, they've gone soft. Four years sometimes feels like the longest hour of her life. Other times it can feel like a century. The last time she'd seen Temari, in passing, was at Naruto and Hinata's wedding. She still looks strong, like femininity is just a consequence of being a woman. A model kunoichi.
Ino snatches up a cola to wash down the sinister daydream. Choji looks at her funny as she chugs it down. Mid-gag, Ino wipes the back of her hand across her mouth.
"We bake two cakes. What do you think about that?" He crushes the can.
"Who the hell is going to eat two cakes? Between me, you, Karui, and Shikamaru? One is enough, Choji." She shakes her head.
"Ok but two cakes means more time we get to spend together." He opens another can.
"I'm not going anywhere. We are spending plenty of time together right now."
"Two cakes it is. You don't have a say so. Sit and watch me bake the damn cakes, you're going to be present whether you want to or not."
"Shikamaru isn't even big on sweets." Ino doesn't bother to finish her soda.
"Sentiment, Ino. The sentiment!"
A bird flutters against the kitchen window, startling them both. They stare outside, waiting for something to drop from the sky. Anticipating some kind of clue to the future.
"I miss him." She says it out loud. It echoes deep within the swell and collapse of her chest.
"It hasn't been four hours." Choji gazes at her with an unreadable expression.
"Should it be a surprise party?" Ino's face washes pink.
"No. He'd hate that—see it coming before we even get around to buying the cake mix."
"You're right."
"We're getting so old, Ino..."
So damn old. All the things she's ever wanted as a child, she had received and rejected. If a grown woman were to ask her what she expects of herself, there would be no answer.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kakashi had requested that he oversee Naruto's assignment, so Shikamaru did just that. He keeps his mouth shut and only answers questions that Naruto sincerely could not solve alone. Tenten is sharp in her approach. She has dates memorized down to the exact hour, a list of names that he had to go over on paper. Her dedication reminds him of Temari, but she is soft spoken and articulate, not blunt and overbearing.
"I guess we didn't need you after all, Shikamaru!" Naruto twirls a pen with his fingers. Shikamaru grins with his eyes shut. Typically, he closes his eyes when he's focusing, but he doesn't focus on anything but his empty stomach.
"So what do you think?" Tenten speaks to Shikamaru. The too long silence causes him to open his eyes. She and Naruto stare through him like he's a ghost.
"What do I think?" he stutters.
"Yes." She smiles at him absently.
"You've managed to go this long without blowing your cover. Are you absolutely certain you've held on to your identity? It's alarming that you're communicating through a grapevine instead of..." Shikamaru loses his words but Naruto cuts in, inadvertently hiding this fact.
"He's not wrong about that. You've eaten, slept, and shit with these guys for months and they just dispersed? Doesn't sound reliable."
"How else do you recruit people for your cause? Send out your messengers." Tenten taps a finger against the table.
"It's just a very fragile way to go about things is all. Almost too good to be true. I hope you're a damn good actress, Ten." Naruto grumbles. "I still don't see why we can't just arrest the bastards. We have proof."
"There's the little people and then their leader. We can't pick off the little people without figuring out who is orchestrating the movement. It might be more than one person with power." She stops tapping her finger then flattens her palms.
"It could work to our benefit that the whole movement is unorganized." Shikamaru brushes his knuckles against his nose.
"I'm sure Anbu is ten steps ahead of us anyway. What a weird thing to get yourself involved in, Tenten." Naruto frowns at her.
"Look at it this way, we're both exploring diplomacy. You get to prove yourself to the Hokage and I look like a formidable kunoichi."
Shikamaru figures out that it's ambition that makes Tenten's eyes darker than what they actually are. She's got an unseen ruthlessness.
"Besides," Tenten gets up from her chair, scooting her notes to Naruto, "what are any of us here for if we aren't working towards anything?"
Naruto makes a noise in agreement and Tenten excuses herself to the bathroom. The air vents rattle, blowing cool air down on their heads. Shikamaru bites at his nails—wonders about what he's working for.
"She is definitely your type." Naruto says it like he'd been holding it in all morning.
"It's free to mind your own business, Naruto."
"Would you do it though?" Naruto whispers even though it's only the two of them.
Shikamaru chews too hard on a hangnail and it bleeds. He hasn't measured a woman that way in so long. His heart still clings to Ino. It's silly because he woke up one morning and made up his mind like she hasn't always been beautiful. He sucks the blood from his torn skin, blinks away what had transpired between them only a few hours ago.
"Maybe." Shikamaru answers. If Ino had never happened—maybe.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Choji made the plans. Ino is expected to act accordingly. It's been years since the last time all three of them have sat together in unity. Blood, sweat, and tears blurred the good memories of their childhood.
She thinks about her two goldfish, hoping her mother feeds them. She should bring them home but she's scared of tripping on the journey. Imagining the glass on the ground and their little bodies strangling on air, her skin crawls.
Opening a bag of chips, the smell of sour cream startles her eyes wide. She stares down into the bag. Inside, there's more air than chips.
"You gotta eat it." She promised she would. Shaking the bag first, she slides her hands inside and crams a fistful in her mouth. The sunset cuts orange rays across her walls. Moving her legs, her shadow stretches itself, makes her a few feet taller. And she chews and thinks, licks her lips, shoves more in her mouth, thinking so hard she gives herself a bellyache.
Eating junk food is liberating. Ino can't believe she ever stopped indulging herself. She's gone soft all over like a marshmallow anyway. The only thing she's been preventing is joy.
"Ino!" Sakura bangs her fist against the front door. Ino sucks the salt from her fingers, grazing her teeth under her nails for crumbs. Before opening the door, she wipes her hands on her cotton pants.
Sakura holds a box of donuts with 'I'm Sorry' scribbled on the top. Two bright yellow hair clips hold her bangs back and Ino gets a good look at apologetic eyes.
"Are you mad at me?"
"What would I be mad at you for?" Ino wrinkles her lips. She was never mad about Sakura choosing to spend time with Sasuke. Honestly, she'd forgotten about it, but she wants to hear Sakura's testimony for her own amusement.
"Oooh Ino...being a bad friend." Sakura wears a white button down dress with folded sleeves.
"I've done worse to you so..." Ino lets her in.
Sakura steps out of her sandals, flipping open the lid and helping herself to a glazed donut.
"It has just been a while—" Sakura starts.
"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'd choose a man's company over you in a heartbeat," Ino says jokingly. "God knows how long it's been since he's touched you."
Sakura's face burns red and she sits the chewed donut in her jaws.
"Let me guess. Four months?" Ino folds her arms, scratching her elbows.
"It's not funny and that's not true." Sakura sits the box on the coffee table then slinks onto the floor. Sprawls her legs out, pouting. "More like a year."
"A year!?" Ino crumples the bag of potato chips in her fists.
"Don't look at me like that."
"I'm not looking at you any kind of way, Sakura. I mean, we all have dry spells."
Sakura looks down at the stack of magazines supporting the table leg.
"Just none that dry." Ino lets out a cackle straight from her soul.
"Now you're being a bad friend." Sakura mutters.
"I'm not shocked that Sasuke Uchiha knows next to nothing about satisfying his girlfriend's needs. I'm willing to bet an arm and leg he doesn't even know how to satisfy himself. He's got the personality of a washboard."
"Ino!"
"Sakura." Ino mimics Sakura's sputter.
They share an awkward silence. Ino's lips remain splayed in a grin. Sakura clears her throat four times, ruffling her hair and says, "I'm happy. That's what counts."
"Right. Not trying to throw rocks and hide my hands or anything. If you love it, I like it." Ino sits on the floor next to her. "I don't think I'm in the position to judge anyone."
Another solid moment of silence passes before Ino speaks up again and says, "When we end up getting a thing we've always wanted, in the end, it's never really like how we imagined."
Sakura makes a whimper-like noise and helps herself to another donut. She gets a sudden paleness about her 's not that her skin goes white— thought she'd never share with Ino saps the vibrancy from her aura.
"Like growing up..." Ino goes on.
And Sakura says, "I think I'm content with my adulthood."
"Really?" Ino eases up her grip on the chip bag. The sound it makes as it unfolds itself eats the beginning of Sakura's sentence.
"Yes. I feel very accomplished. I don't want a redo. I'm where I want to be. Not exactly but close to it."
"Good for you, Sakura."
"And just like you aren't judging the bizarre state of my relationship, I'm not judging you for not having it all together."
"I never said I didn't have it together!" Ino gasps lightly.
"You don't need to say it. Anyone with good observation skills can see it. Is that a tummy roll?" Sakura pinches at Ino's stomach.
"How the hell are you going to bring me donuts then ridicule my belly?" Ino swats her hand away.
"I have a legitimate opportunity for you!" Sakura closes the box of donuts, sucking the sugar from her thumb.
Ino rolls her eyes and drops her head low, then rubs the space behind her ears.
"After explaining your case—"
"Explaining my case? Am I one of your soupy brained patients now?" Ino groans.
"After days of vouching for your ass..." Sakura waves a hand in Ino's face "Tsunade agreed to sit down with you."
Ino takes a minute to process the words. She stops massaging behind her ears. Her entire body freezes.
"She agreed to sit down with me?" For fucking what is what Ino wants to ask. The surprise really is Sakura holding her word. They had both discussed working together, but Ino never assumed it would come to fruition.
"Mhhhmmm. It wasn't easy. She said no five times." Sakura says with a smile.
"Can't say I blame her. I'm suddenly embarrassed for you." Ino's self-esteem tanks as she imagines a very resistant Tsunade. A very very very repulsed Tsunade.
"Oh don't be. She trusts me. I trust you not to screw it all up. So you'll do it, Ino?"
"Eeehh the pressure is making my armpits warm..." Ino's 'negative zero' self-esteem also makes her nauseous.
"Ino! You're not doing anything else!" Sakura sighs with devastation.
"Fine! I'll meet her!" Ino tosses the bag in the air and it glides on the coffee table.
"I will set a date!"
The longer Sakura hangs around, the more Ino realizes that she is committing to herself more so than to a promise. A fuzzy feeling tickles the bottom of her stomach. It expands and grows so that it fills her up. It's not a negative bloom of anxiety, but she won't be able to eat for another twenty-four hours.
Like Sakura, probably to a more severe degree, Tsunade reminds Ino of everything she isn't.
Baby steps...
It's easier to worry about what she will wear.
.
.
.
.
.
The men's room smells like shit. Even though the floor had been mopped, the harsh chemicals left the tile feeling more sludgy than slick. The bottom of Shikamaru's sandals stick to the floor. Naruto talked for so long, it gave him a migraine. His growing hunger intensified his agitation. If he could smoke a cigarette, it would curb his appetite. Picking a urinal, he unzips his pants. As he relieves himself, he lets out a groan.
Almost everything contains sugar and salt, but there was no emphasis on artificial or natural ingredients. The only way to know? Trial and error. How many baby carrots can he eat to become full?
As he buttons his pants, Sai swings open the bathroom door. Their eye contact is immediate. The awkwardness Shikamaru feels is clearly one sided. He gives a constipated smile. Sai doesn't return it, but he only has one expression in the first place.
"Just the man I was looking for." Sai uses one tone of voice.
"What better place to search—the fucking toilets."
"Of course. I think about you every time I'm taking a shit."
Sai, with his hands in his pockets, doesn't follow it up with anything else. There is just a very ugly moment of silence right after. Shikamaru's eyes widen because he never seems to be prepared. Does he punch him in the face or laugh?
"This is purely coincidental. I make people uncomfortable but I'm not that big of a creep. Decency is an easy concept to grasp." Sai doesn't even smile to indicate that he is kidding.
Shikamaru nods slowly. So Sai does have self-awareness after all.
"Do I make you uncomfortable, Shikamaru?" He asks.
"Uh...sort of." Shikamaru doesn't know what sudden movements to make.
"Do you prefer hand sanitizer over soap?"
"What?" Shikamaru doesn't mean to frown.
"I'm just wondering why you haven't washed your hands." Sai looks at Shikamaru's hands and scrunches his nose.
The most appropriate response is to laugh disbelievingly. Rolling his eyes, Shikamaru walks to the sink, starts with the warm water first before slathering his hands with soap. Never before has he thought this hard about washing his hands. He counts how long he holds his hands under the water.
"Don't get too comfortable. I have another task for you later." Sai stands in front of a urinal.
"Am I going to disappear for days at a time again?" Shikamaru doesn't dry off his hands.
"That's entirely up to you but it's a strong possibility."
"Shit." Shikamaru mutters. "Between you and Kakashi, I just might die."
"You said you didn't set expectations for yourself, but that was clearly a lie." Sai pees into the urinal.
"I don't have expectations of myself." Shikamaru shakes the water from his hands.
"You complain a lot, Shikamaru."
"And you talk too damn much." Shikamaru doesn't forget his place. He knows that there isn't anything Sai can do in this particular setting. He storms out of the bathroom. The repercussions were going to come anyway.
"Work smart. Not hard." Sai calls out. His voice echoes.
Shikamaru scratches his scalp with both hands to serve himself some kind of relief.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Now, it's not the trigger of her fits that makes her chest feel tight. Ino fears the feeling of her anxiety more than what causes it. Is it a good thing that Tsunade pities her? 'Pity' never came out of Sakura's mouth, but Ino wouldn't feel this way had Sakura never shared that Tsunade opposed the idea. It's easier for a child to learn things. Ino is very much set in her ways now. She's not even sure if it's possible for her to learn new tricks.
She stopped being a ninja for good reason. Unfortunately, it was the only thing she was good at. That isn't saying much compared to her entire class.
Ino opens the shop door gently enough so that the bell doesn't ring. If her mother spots her, she will be doomed to busywork. All she sets out to do is grab the fishbowl and be on her way.
At the back of the store, Chiharu carries a lively conversation. She sounds happy. Ino is ninety-nine percent positive that it's nothing she has done.
Realizing that the fishbowl has been moved, Ino tiptoes around the counter. She grumbles defeatedly. The worst her mother would make her do is wipe down the windows.
"People used to believe that snapdragons possessed the power to restore vitality and ward off evil. It comes as no surprise to me that they're your favorite." Chiharu steps through the curtain of beads first.
"To be honest, I only like their name. We're in the perfect season for them right?" Tsunade sets her eyes on Ino before Chiharu, who is too excited to see past the tip of her nose.
"Yes, they do better in the spring or fall." Ino doesn't think before she speaks.
"Looks like your visit wasn't for nothing, Lady Tsunade. Ino, were you not going to speak?"
"I just got here..." Her stomach does back flips. Tsunade doesn't have an ordinary smile. She speaks with her eyes like a cat. Knowingly, she blinks back at Ino. The only other two people Ino knows who have the same beguiling effect on people around them are Sasuke and Sai.
"It isn't a matter of urgency. I just wanted to get a personal confirmation from you, Ino. Sakura has talked about you for days but it's in poor taste to speak for other people." Tsunade looks at Ino like she's the only person in the world who matters. That's what it feels like. All beautiful people have the same affectation.
"I've been waiting on you to speak for yourself. It's been a while." Tsunade lowers her chin.
"Well, Ino...don't keep her waiting!" Chiharu clicks her tongue.
Ino knows how to talk big of herself. Her brain shuts off completely and out the door goes the fire of her personality. She folds under Tsunade's presence with her mouth open.
"Yes." Ino commits to something real after years of avoiding having to do so.
"Yes?" Tsunade mimics her lilt.
"Yes." Ino repeats herself while nodding her head.
Tsunade narrows her eyes—thinking.
It's the longest sixty seconds Ino has subjected herself to.
"Very well then." Tsunade cuts her gaze away from Ino, broadening her smile just for Chiharu. A gesture can be so subtle that it's only recognizable to a kindred spirit. Ino's cheeks color red.
They continue their conversation. Ino stands in place, feels all the hairs on the back of her neck curl. She can't help but feel like she has failed a pre-test. The goldfish are no longer her priority. A little bit of time passes and she hasn't budged from staring at her reflection within the plastic wall clock.
Tsunade doesn't leave without a typical arrangement of red roses.
Roses are what everyone wants. They are easy to decide on.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The rest of Shikamaru's day, much like the current state of his life, is an agonizing slow burn. Every three minutes, with each step he takes, his legs get wobblier. He could sleep like a dead person and it couldn't fix how tired he is. Sai's cryptic warning won't allow him to relax.
The clever trick, he figures, is to prolong his discomfort. The more bothered and busy he appears could keep him from being surprised and irritated. He readjusts the plastic bag of food on his arm. Vegetables and sugar free junk food that tastes like cardboard. He spent an hour longer than normal skimming the back of packages.
Next time he's standing on his last leg, knocked free of all his pride, he will ask Sai if aspartame counts. It's not real sugar but it is sweeter than the real thing. He intends trial and error until he has completely run out of dignity.
He thinks about his father's disapproval out of nowhere—Shikaku never limited him. Shikamaru spent much of his life breezing by, he wonders if Shikaku ever had expectations of him that exceeded jounin. Shikamaru has no desire to be Hokage, never really considered himself a leader either.
But he wants something drastically different. If that means altering his values to achieve it, he doesn't mind. Who he is now has gotten him nothing but wasted time. Present-day Shikamaru Nara is every bit cracked and useless.
Shikamaru stops walking a building away from Ino's apartment complex. He left her to hang dry. The useless chunk of himself feels guilty for it. Damned if you do or don't, he supposes.
Just like he can't pass Choji's house without speaking, he has to make the attempt to be a better friend to her. Being spiteful unravels all the progress of last night. To avoid future hiccups, he has to discipline himself in the art of proximity.
It is possible to love from a distance.
Before he can make it up her flight of stairs, Ino steps out of her front door with a watering can. Their eyes lock. They don't say anything until he mounts the last step. He smiles at her but she doesn't smile back. She holds the container with both of her hands.
"I didn't think I'd see you for another two or three days." Watering her plants, she looks away from him.
"Sometimes hearing your voice is like therapy, but..."
"But what?" She snickers.
"More often than not, you make me want to drink battery acid." Shikamaru ties his plastic bag in a knot and sits it down on the concrete. He stands beside her, digging in his pocket for a bag of sunflower seeds he had ripped open before buying it.
"I'm glad your desire to live is stronger than wanting to ingest poison." Ino's eyes roam from one plant to another. Her mouth twitches into the grin she has been suppressing. "I hope I'm a good therapist."
"You're a trash therapist. You don't tell me what I want to hear."
"Therapists aren't supposed to 'tell' you what you want to hear. They aren't supposed to 'tell' you anything." She shakes her head with a growing smile.
"That's not completely true. They make very vague and neutral suggestions." He puts a sunflower seed on his tongue.
"What would you know? You've never been to therapy." She puts down the watering pot.
Shikamaru hardly smiles but when he does it's hard won and infectious. Ino catches a sickening case of butterflies looking at him. Her tongue salivates like she isn't used to him. She very well should be by now.
"What do you want for your birthday?" She hopes that asking this will change the course of the conversation. She doesn't want to joke about being sick in the head.
"I think I want a watch." He spits a shell over the rail and chews on the seed.
"A watch for what?" Ino watches his jaws flex.
"To tell time. Duh." He puts two shelled sunflower seeds into his mouth.
"When have you ever needed to keep up with time?"
"You asked me what I wanted, Ino. I'm a simple man. What's more important than time?"
"The kind that ticks or beeps?" She presses her elbows against the railing. The wind webs her hair.
"I'm not picky. As long as it fits my wrist." Again, Shikamaru spits out the shells and dumps more seeds into his hand. Saliva moistens his lips. Her heart thumps harder, filling up her eardrums. She hushes, waiting for it to pass. It doesn't but it lessens over their brief span of quiet.
"Choji wants all of us together." She clears her throat.
"When?"
"Your birthday."
"That escalated quickly. Glad you're invited, Ino. I spiritually felt the 'us' there."
"Shikamaru?" Ino stands straight, turns to press her lower back against the rail, curling her fingers around the sun-warmed metal.
"What?" This time, he takes the shell from his mouth then flicks it. After he swallows the seed, he scratches his tongue with his teeth.
"I wanted to ask you the other day but I chickened out..."
"Ask me what?" In his mind, Shikamaru answers his own question after speaking, but he wants to hear how she will say it. If she will say it at all or wait on him to ask it for her.
"Were you serious about us… you know..." She twists up her face like she's constipated.
Shikamaru waits, doesn't blink.
"Us resenting each other?"
"Yes," he says quickly.
"I don't believe you," she states sharply.
He fights a bulge in his throat. Instances of speechlessness are far and few between for him. At this point, he stops looking at her, wiggling two fingers inside of the plastic bag of sunflower seeds. The noise is loud.
"I didn't believe you the moment you said it."
"I don't say things I don't mean." He crunches, spits, and swallows.
"You meant it in bad faith."
"I don't want to ever not be able to stand in the same room as you. You make me that angry sometimes. I don't like feeling that way. And that's what I meant." Shikamaru continues to look at everything but her.
Ino can't find the right words. It's possible that there aren't any. Simply, she only feels deeply. Her soul darkens so that even if there is a right thing to say, she won't be able to find it.
"That's emotional warfare. You can't tell me you want to be friends then turn around and fuck me."
"You took your clothes off. Does that not count as emotional warfare? Even after I explicitly told you what I wanted." He puts it too calmly.
"That makes you a liar."
"And you haven't been one all this time? It takes one to know one." Shikamaru can't bring himself to eat another seed so he spits up his last one.
"But you're not supposed to be the liar, Shikamaru." Her voice is so soft, it breaks apart.
Crumpling up the bag of seeds into his pocket, his breathing unsteadies. He clamps his mouth shut. Ino waits a little longer for anything. He doesn't give it to her. The refusal flexes the muscles in his neck. He strains himself.
"Shikamaru..."
"You don't get to call me a liar when that's all you do. You've been doing it for years. People love you and you pretend like they don't." He grips the rail and his knuckles turns white, still unable to look at her.
The butterflies die in her stomach but her heart doesn't stop violently throbbing.
"What do I say to that?" she asks him.
"You didn't deny it..." He exhales. His words shake.
"Why would I? That's how you feel."
"But it's not about me 'feeling'. You have to realize it." He raises his voice.
"You didn't have to stay. You stayed."
"Because I love you and I'm going to always stay whenever you ask. C'mon, Ino! This shit isn't complicated arithmetic!" He loosens his hold on the rail and stands in front of her. His anger surfaces and seeps through his pores, too much to keep inside of his body.
The words still hide from her.
"This is why you make me so mad. No I don't want to just be your friend but you don't have room for me. It's really shitty. It sucks. It makes me ill, but I can only accept you for you. Asking you to change defeats the purpose..." He stops before he gives himself a headache.
"That's how you feel about me?" She doesn't think before she speaks. It just blossoms on her tongue and she's too put out to gulp it down.
"For the longest damn time. I think my heart is broken." Shikamaru declares it with a dragging sigh. Think is a security word. He knows that his heart is broken.
Ino holds her mouth open. Her eyes beginning to sting, she hangs her head low.
"Make it make sense to me."
Ino doesn't take the opportunity. She shakes her head and covers her mouth with a hand. Shikamaru gives up. He lifts his hands to shake her but grabs a fistful of air instead, then scratches behind his ear.
"It felt wrong not to at least stop and say 'Hi' but I guess it was a bad idea." Shikamaru has never been good at losing, even though he never really tries at succeeding.
"I love you too." She grabs his arm as he reaches down for his bag, hooking her fingers in the mesh peeking under his sleeve.
"Not like this..." He refrains from pulling away.
"It doesn't make it any less valid."
"But the jokes on you. I don't feel any better. I feel worse." Shikamaru swipes her hand from his arm as gently as his distress will allow him to.
"I said it and it's how I really feel!" she yells.
That isn't the point but Shikamaru has no more fight in him. This isn't how he wanted any of it to happen. It didn't happen like this the first time around but Ino isn't Temari. They are worlds apart in texture and taste. He shouldn't even be thinking about Temari, but he does so bitterly.
Ino pulls him by the neck into a kiss that crushes their noses together. Her cold tongue shocks him into a temporary state of longing for everything she has deprived him of. His fury quiets as he wraps his arms around her frame.
She breathes through her nose and his skin tickles. The metallic taste of her lip gloss mingles with their saliva. But it doesn't matter how wet the kiss is. It's not enough. He digs his nails into the curve of her back, catching strands of her hair between his fingers. If he holds on a little longer, maybe he will feel differently. They kiss until their lips are swollen numb. Shikamaru brings his hands to her face, peeling his tongue from hers, sucking her bottom lip as he pulls away.
The world doesn't revolve around them, yet it often feels like one of them is in control of the moon's twenty-seven day orbit. Out the corner of his eye, Ino's neighbor peers through their blinds. It reminds him of all the other times they've disturbed the peace in fits of happiness and blind rage.
Ino searches his face for the next thing she should say. This isn't the first time she has told a man that she loves him, but it's the first time she truly means it. A haunting spell of suffocation makes her skin cold. She can't breathe. A microsecond of death. Two mousy hiccups bring her back to life. Shikamaru drops his warm hands from her face. He steps away from her, dragging his fingers through his short hair to hide that he doesn't know what next to do with his hands. Ino watches him organizing his thoughts in complete silence.
Shikamaru does what she least expects of him. He grabs his grocery bag and walks away, takes the first step down.
"We agreed to meet at Choji's for your birthday. If you don't show up on time, he will be disappointed. No excuses." And she would be responsible for it.
Shikamaru stops on the third step with his back turned. Her lip gloss leaves his mouth sticky. He is the most ill-prepared ninja in all of the lands. It is possible to be a clever fool. Book-sense but no wisdom. That's how you achieve it. To come up shorthanded in the matters of the heart, he wants to upchuck this torrent of pain.
"Yea." He looks back at her half-heartedly.
Ino has the kind of love for him that you take up with God. It's merciless, makes her sweat through her t-shirt. The cotton sticks to her armpits. Shikamaru just needs time. Between now and tomorrow, he wants a solid eight hours of sleep. The shitty consequence of waiting for so long—months—leaves him with the rotten aftertaste of eating a bowl of raw sugar with a spoon. The sweetness stops. It's just a gross jaw-sucking twang. He continues stepping down the stairs.
Shikamaru makes walking away look so easy. Ino's entire body breaks into a cold sweat. Places that shouldn't moisten. The spaces between her toes. The creases in her elbows. Behind her ears.
Ino takes it for what it is. She is only a mortal woman and cannot think things into existence. There's a reason she doesn't have that kind of cosmic power.
Some seeds still sprout roots in the winter. Pansies, hellebores, dogwood, witch hazel...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Shikamaru makes it home. First foot in the door, he drops his bag and inhales the scent of Yoshino's all-purpose cleaner. It awakens the nostalgia of his childhood. He spent the majority of his preteens thinking he was more of an adult than his peers. Everyone had told him so. No one told him that being able to do long-division in his head would be useless when it came to fixing emotional trauma.
He sits on the couch, buries his face in his hands, waits in the faint dark. One hour becomes six. Sai never shows up. No one shows up but he still keeps his asshole clenched tight.
After putting away his food he throws himself back on the couch and waits until the sun goes completely down, lying face down in complete darkness.
Now, Shikamaru is dealing with the aftermath of being told that he is a genius and that he just knows better. He tries to quantify 'genius.' It's possible to be unnaturally good at one thing and fail at everything else.
He curses himself for thinking too hard.
But maybe, all this time, he's been trying to uphold a false standard. While he has gone out of his way to be honest, everyone has been lying to him.
Waiting for something to happen, Shikamaru falls asleep. His last waking thought is Kakashi's disembodied voice saying a whole lot of nothing.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He sleeps until the next day. No interruptions.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Ino stares at the same three watches, tapping her nail on the glass case. Shikamaru wouldn't care what it looks like. He'd only yell at her and force her to return it if he she spent too much money. She could slip him a ryo bill inside of his birthday card, but she has never gotten him anything, as an adult, of value.
"Men don't care about the 'look' if they aren't trying to make a point." The new sales associate, whose name Ino forgets, leans against the glass.
"Yea but it's the thought that counts. I'm the one trying to make a point." Ino scratches the corner of her mouth.
"What's the occasion?" Konoha isn't huge and Ino has shopped at this boutique for years, but for the life of her, she cannot remember any point in time she might've seen this woman. She stares at the red-head without a name tag. Her unfamiliarity bothers Ino.
"It's for his birthday."
"Is he a shinobi?"
"Unfortunately." Ino sighs.
An uncomfortable silence detonates. The question feels accusatory. Why did it matter?
"Then I suggest something practical. It would be a waste to buy something nice that he'd never wear or lose eventually." She smiles at Ino. Either Ino heavily projects some of her own terror or the curly haired sales rep thinks highly of her own opinions.
"For someone who works off commission, you're not trying to make any money." Ino says this without looking her at.
"My number one priority is you walking out that door happy with what you buy." She responds to Ino with surprisingly believable sincerity. Ino quietly ruminates on several thoughts. The boutique is drenched in a perfume so rich, it makes her a little dizzy. Ino can't recall the smell ever being so sharp. She makes eye contact with the conventionally attractive woman, wonders if the smell permeates her clothes and hair.
"Is he a boyfriend? A relative..." She holds her mouth open, waiting for Ino's reply, but then, "Fiancé?"
"None of the above." Ino hurts her own feelings by taking it personally. It cuts deep because she hopes that this gesture will fill up the hole she had dug in their relationship.
"I was thinking you looked a little too young to be someone's wife."
"I'm too young to be anyone's anything." Ino replies dryly.
She has to reconcile with the fact that he isn't her boyfriend and won't be any time soon. Demanding a friendship from her when he knows it isn't that easy, it's asking her to be in denial. She has to forget the steps she has taken to not be.
Her dad used to tell her that she could manifest material things, but not people.
"He's just a very close friend who deserves something nice."
Ino picks the simplest watch—with little and big silver dots instead of numbers.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Naruto unscrews the pen cap with his teeth and drags a bold line across his paper. He always gets a sheen of sweat across his forehead when he's deep in thought. Introspection is a physical exercise for him. Shikamaru wonders if his face strains when he can't figure out a problem.
"You know Kakashi summoned Orochimaru." Naruto breaks the monotony of their silence.
"That doesn't surprise me." Shikamaru can't sit down so he stands beside the Hokage's desk.
"He's not very trustworthy." Naruto grumbles.
"Wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire, but his lab was looted and that means he is a person of value. Even though he has no obligation..."
"He has all of the obligations—he's alive. He owes us one."
"I'm sure that simple fact is already on the table. Orochimaru is a psychopath. Not a moron." Shikamaru glares at the wall clock. Kakashi is the one running late this time by thirty minutes.
"The latter is debatable." Naruto stops chewing on the pen cap. After a while of staring off into space, Naruto, again, speaks when he really shouldn't. Shikamaru doesn't want to have a conversation. He lacks the focus to maintain one.
"Shikamaru, what's the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath?"
"Psychopaths don't feel. Sociopaths pick and choose when. They sorta..."
"Prioritize their feelings?" Naruto moves and the chair creaks under him.
"Yea. Exactly." Sai comes to Shikamaru's mind—as a subtle reminder that he's got some ramifications to deal with eventually. A painful lump forms in his throat. He massages the back of his neck, rubbing away his anxious nausea.
All he'd had for breakfast was an egg cracked into his rice.
Naruto makes a hiccupy noise as if to start another conversation but Kakashi finally opens the door. Alongside him is Sai. Shikamaru's catches a chill frigid enough to send him to an early grave. He swallows the lump. Suddenly, no longer nauseous.
"You're late." Naruto scratches the space under his chin.
"I have good reason." Kakashi retorts. Shikamaru notices the slight wrinkle of skin between his brows. Something is wrong, but Kakashi is never in a hurry for bad news. He exists on another plane of cool that either took years of shock to get to or he'd been born with.
Sai always looks apathetic. He doesn't sit in the seat Shikamaru has been avoiding next to Naruto.
Kakashi takes at seat behind his desk, letting out a long phlegmy sigh.
"The head of Kirigakure's Imamura family was found dead last night." Sai speaks for Kakashi.
"That sucks, but important people die all the time." Naruto shrugs.
"He was murdered here, in Konoha, in his hotel, Naruto." Kakashi's face straightens.
"He was here to see you, right?" Shikamaru gets a heavy feeling in his face, a tugging sensation at his jowls.
"Mhmmm." Kakashi holds his attention in one spot on his desk. "It doesn't make for good optics. One of the most powerful men, at my behest, comes to specifically see me and turns up dead while his entire country is more or less politically unstable."
"Did he have information about the missing nin?" Naruto finally measures the magnitude of the situation. His entire demeanor shifts.
"I'm sure he did. That's why he's dead." Shikamaru scowls.
"I just wanna know why people who aren't even natives to the country are involved." Naruto sinks back in his seat.
After having several good years of what looked like peace, it is strange to suddenly be called into action before the bubble expands and pops. Shikamaru still feels like that version of himself who failed his first mission. Though he is without the compunction to cry this time.
But maybe a good ole fashioned weeping is what he needs to process these passing years.
"Money is convincing, Naruto. Especially lots of it." Sai smirks.
"I know. I'm not a dumbass. Sheesh."
"It's good news for you though, Naruto." Kakashi's tone changes.
"Say no more. Investigating isn't the hard part." Naruto stands and slides the pen behind his ear.
Shikamaru twists his tongue in his mouth, glaring at Kakashi. Damage control is supposed to be his job.
"If I were you, I'd pay a visit to anyone he might have connections to here." Sai suggests.
Naruto waves his hand on his way out.
"I guess I contact the family and wait on the autopsy?" Shikamaru folds his arms.
"No. You've got other things to worry about, Shikamaru." Swiveling in Shikamaru's direction, Kakashi takes off his hat to scratch his head.
"So, did you just give Naruto my position?" Shikamaru raises his voice but doesn't yell. Sai's eyes dart back and forth between them.
"If I did, there's nothing you can do about it." Kakashi has always been blunt, but the hint of cruelty in his voice startles Shikamaru.
After a moment of no movement, Kakashi sits his hat back on his head and says, "I did not give Naruto your position. Is he acting like a substitute for you? Sure. Only for the time being. I need you to make good on your end. That's all you need to worry about."
"Yes sir." There's nothing else to be said. Shikamaru glowers at Sai.
.
.
.
Shikamaru doesn't get nervous easily. He cracks his knuckles to distract himself from the strong scent of Sai's cologne. The elevator is too tight. He's too close.
"Only guilty people sweat profusely, Shikamaru." Sai watches the numbered buttons flicker on and off. "You should really work on hiding your emotions."
Shikamaru has been unaware of how hot his body has gotten. He doesn't respond to Sai because there is no correct way to respond to the statement without insulting him.
"Today won't be so bad. I promise." Sai presses a button, knowing it won't make the trip down faster.
"Can I ask you a question?" Shikamaru leans his shoulder against the wall, stretching the little distance between them.
"Sure. Only because you asked politely."
"Are you a sadist? You don't gain anything of physical value from patronizing me."
Sai quirks a brow and blinks a few times, scrunches his lips to one corner of his mouth. The doors open when they reach the last floor.
"I just don't like cry babies." Sai steps out of the elevator, and as if lightning had zapped Shikamaru's soul from his body, he follows.
"Typically, you wouldn't be seen at all for eight weeks, but because you are high profile, we made exceptions for you. It looks a lot like special treatment." Sai makes a point to not walk ahead, but beside him.
"That's not my fault."
"It's not but you keep talking at me instead of observing your own behavior."
They stop in front of the same door as last time. Before entering, Sai gives Shikamaru a stern head to toe look.
"I think you're too sensitive, Shikamaru. If you're determined, by the end of this, you won't be that way anymore. You can't get by doing the bare minimum. You've already failed if that's your mentality. What are you scared of?"
Shikamaru's first inkling is that it's a trick question. It strikes a chord and he does fail in hiding this, but quickly straightens his face, despite the burning of the skin inside of his nostrils.
Then he questions the bugs under his skin. Are they easily capable of sharing thoughts like they do sensory stimulation?
"Good answer." Sai opens the door and walks in first.
Shikamaru steps into the room expecting it to be different, but it's not. It's the same square metal table occupied by Sasuke.
Five questions arise—Shikamaru answers three of them himself.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Ino rearranges the unused flower pots on her window sill for the fishbowl. Though fish cannot perceive concepts such as loneliness, she refuses to subject them to any form of darkness. And so she rationalizes her imagination by sitting her fish in the window. As long as there is a sun, moon, and street lamps, it won't matter if she forgets to cut on her lamp.
She sits by the window on her knees, observing the way the afternoon light causes their scales to glitter. Kiba was right—even if he had given her an option, she would've kept them anyway. They don't need names because they won't live very long. And it's not like they are aware of having an identity. She lifts her finger to press it against the bowl.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Hello! I know what you're probably thinking! Wow! What happened to an update a month? Well, lemme tell you guys, I've just been trying not to let my unhappiness kill me. But here we are, with another update. And let me put yall on. Check out my beta and creative partner in crime, tiffthom. Her fic The Past Could Start a Fire will not only keep you occupied while you wait for my ass to update, but guess what? It's all the romance you could ask for and then some. Especially if you love Kakashi. Tiffany is an amazing writer and everyday I'm truly honored to be friends with one of my favorite fic writers.
I had trouble finishing this chapter because I couldn't really find a good stopping point. I ended up not stopping it where I wanted, but my muse told me to end it, so I did. As always, thank you for tagging along on this journey. I'm always amazed by how much this fic has evolved. It's still expanding