There is a deep part of his subconscious that knows: this is the infinite tsukuyomi. That part of him wills himself to wake up, but it's useless.
Shikamaru is trapped.
In his dream, he sees Asuma and Kurenai, doting over their new baby, and his parents, his mother berating his father, as usual. Their presences, though mundane and uninteresting, tug at his heartstrings for a reason he can't place. The expressions of love are vastly different, but there is light in their eyes all the same, a light that shines brightly, deeply, and penetrates the troublesome nature of marriage.
So the bickering, the children—that's not the problem. It's worrying about everything afterward. For example, if either Asuma or Shikamaru's father were to die, the responsibilities of their families would fall to whoever they delegated them to. And Shikamaru can imagine it now: getting married, having children, worrying about dying and who would take care of his family after he was gone—that was the troublesome part, everything that comes after.
Beside him, Temari looks on with him, lips pursed in the simultaneous awkwardness of third-wheeling in other people's family matters and amusement of contrasting displays of love. He is supposed to be showing her around, he's sure, but he can't remember the specifics of his responsibilities. Either way, if Temari is here, he must be in the middle of something work related.
Shikamaru shoves his hands in his pockets and shakes his head, apologizing for the minor roadblock.
"Don't worry about it," Temari says. "It's interesting to see the kind of environment you're in daily. I finally understand how you formed your perceptions of gender roles, though."
Shikamaru smoothes his hair back, scowling. "The more I look at it, the more I think marrying someone is just—too troublesome. Count me out."
Temari scoffs but agrees, just as Shikamaru hears his name called from behind. A girl comes forward, her short brown hair framing her jawline, her eyes narrowed in irritation, lips carved into the deepest frown Shikamaru has ever seen. He braces himself for the scolding that comes next, wincing in anticipation.
"Hey, dork," Ren says, holding a neatly wrapped bento in the air. "Here's your lunch. How many times do I have to bring it to you before you finally remember it yourself?"
Shikamaru doesn't answer, mostly because she doesn't give him the opportunity to. She goes on, saying, "I hope you're not boring Temari while she's here. Your main title is Chuunin exam liaison, sure, but as a host, you need to keep your guest entertained. He's not only taking you to his favorite parks and daydreaming, is he?" she asks Temari, who laughs and leans in conspiratorially to whisper something in reply. Soon, both girls are making jabs at him, from his posture to his apparently monotone voice to the dead look in his eyes when he's confronted with something troublesome.
"See, that's the look," Ren says, pointing at him while Temari scrutinizes his face. "He's wishing he could be somewhere cloud-gazing right now, the lazy-bum."
"But, hey," Temari says as Ren flicks Shikamaru's nose, much to his displeasure. "Are you telling me he makes you bring him his lunch every day?"
"I don't make her," Shikamaru interjects.
"I have a suspicion that he purposely forgets his lunch so he has an excuse to see me in the middle of the day," she says, glancing at him and winking, a grin working its way over her mouth. "Admit it, Shikamaru: you miss me so much that you can't wait a whole nine hours to see me again."
Shikamaru begins to protest, but then he sees it: there is a gleam in Ren's eye, the flicker of a light that shines brightly, deeply, that breaks through and disperses the trouble in his heart.
"In any case," Ren says, "I should leave you guys alone. I'm sure you have a lot to do. I need to head back to the Academy, anyway, and foster the minds of the future of our village. I'll see you later, Shikamaru?"
Marriage, he decides, is troublesome. It's a lot of worrying about the future, about how well and how long you can take care of the family you create out of love. But, he realizes, if he finds the right person with the right light to share those worries with, he will be fine, and it will be better than any dream.
"Yeah," he says and Ren smiles widely, beaming. "I'll see you."