Category: Hurt and Comfort, Romantic Fluff

Characters: Shikamaru Nara, Sakura Haruno

Hello, everybody! This is my final story for ShikaSaku Week Hanami's Day Seven Prompt, "We Are Ruins"! Due to participation in several other fandom days, I will not be doing the Bonus Day. I hope you all enjoyed my stories for this underappreciated ship! ^.^

Sakura's eyes snapped open as a cold wave of adrenaline and fear crashed through her. Body pouring sweat, chest heaving with frantic breaths, and the stench of iron burning in her nostrils, it took her a few moments for her panic-clouded mind to register that she was not currently in a blood-soaked battlefield but lying in her bed. Her eyelashes fluttered repeatedly as the nightmarish images of mutilated bodies and bright red blood faded quickly from her vision. AS her wits returned to her, she groaned softly and curled her fingers into the soft sheets that were dampened with her perspiration. A dream… It was only a dream…

A ninja's life was a hard one. Nightmares were almost certain, given their profession. Sakura had experienced many a nightmarish thing in her two decades on the planet, and naturally, those things haunted her dreams. Whether they be real-life failures or gruesome scenarios of her subconscious' invention, they prowled in the deep dark of night indiscriminately. It was always a peculiar feeling, the pumping of her adrenaline-doped blood battling for dominance against her weary body; she felt like her entire body was just a low-pulsing drum, teetering just on the edge of sleep but unable to dive over the cliff.

With a small sigh, she rolled onto her other side to peer at the clock. The red neon numbers glared 3:49 a.m. Certainly not the time of morning that she should be out and about, but for some reason Sakura's addled brain was screaming "go for a walk." Resigning herself to her instincts, she slowly pushed herself up in the bed, comforter slipping from her shoulders to bunch up at her waist. She rolled her eye with the heel of one hand while the other fixed the strap of her tank top that had slipped down from her shoulder to hand loosely over her upper arm. She was trying to have a mental debate with herself as her body moved automatically to slip out of the bed and grab a light jacket from the bedpost and slip it on herself, but she was already walking down the hall before it could make a compelling argument. Almost as if she were moving on autopilot, she slipped into a pair of sandals and headed out of the house before her mind could even process it was moving.

It was summertime, so the air was only pleasantly chill though the world had been deprived of sunlight for a good long while. Her jacket kept her body from growing too cold while the chilled breeze moved over her bare legs. Dully, her mind told her that it was not a good idea to wander the streets in short pajama bottoms in the wee hours of the morning, but that compelling need for a stroll haughtily responded that she would punch anybody who dared hassle her. Her shuffling feet scraping the dirt road was the only sound that permeated the quiet of the sleeping village, save for the occasional chirp of a cricket or hoot of an owl. Moths slapped fruitlessly against the burning glass of the streetlamps above her head. Sakura felt like those moths. Prodding uselessly at the doorway to light only to be rejected again and again.

The buildings were all blurry dark masses to her hazed mind. Sakura remembered the way those buildings had been mangled into rubble and splinters the day that Pain had attacked, how she had kneeled amongst the ruins and howled Naruto's name to the uncaring blue sky as she cried bitter tears of loss and fear. Those ruins were long gone now; Sakura was the only ruin left.

Well, not the only ruin.

Her feet had carried her there of their own volition. In the pale moonlight, the white garden gate glowed, veiling the dark silhouettes of bushes and flowers of the garden. The stone path caught the white rays at just the right angle to look like glowing moonstones had been deposited in the grass, white and shining and illuminating her way to the porch. The gate latch and hinges squeaked in protest as she entered the garden. Sakura skipped over the stones and up the porch steps, her footfalls quick but quiet. Once she was standing in front of the door, her mind briefly entertained the notion that it was about four in the morning and she had no business knocking on his door.

In the next second, her knuckles were rapping insistently on the wood.

There was a period of silence. Sakura debated both fleeing and knocking again. Her green eyes flickered to the window as the hallway light inside suddenly switched on. She saw the curtains flutter, but it was not enough for her to see who was actually peeking through the window, but it was plenty enough for the person to catch a good glance at her pajama-clad form standing awkwardly at the doorway. She looked at the porchlight as it flickered on as well, bright yellow lightbulb styled in the form of a small flame within a glass lantern. The moths sprang from the bushes to excitedly pummel themselves into the glass to try and reach it. Like the ruin Sakura, who was reaching out desperately for closure and meeting only resistance.

The door swung open.

"Sakura," Shikamaru said in a low tone as he raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn, "it's four in the morning."

"I was having nightmares again."

She had said all that needed to be said. His eyebrows quirked for a second before he wordlessly extended his arms out for her to walk into his embrace, and that she did; she slipped out of her sandals as she crossed the threshold, kicking them near the pairs of shoes that were placed neatly next to where the floor began, and buried her face into Shikamaru's chest. The cloth of his nightshirt was soft against her face, and she breathed in deeply to inhale the comfortable scent of him, coffee and pine forest with the hint of spicy medicinal herbs. His arms closed around her and his hands began rubbing comforting circles in her back, and he propped his chin on the top of her head with a small sigh.

Sakura was not sure what to call their arrangement. It had all started one night like this, when she had awoken in the deep of night sweating and scared and in need of comfort. One would've though that she would have gone to Naruto's, or Ino's, but her fogged mind had delivered her to Shikamaru's home instead. To his credit, he hadn't turned her away, only awkwardly embraced her crying form and pulled her into his house. She had ended up falling asleep in his futon. Shikamaru was the perfect gentleman, of course, and had migrated to his couch once she had crashed. He cooked her breakfast in the morning and she left. It had turned into an almost weekly ritual at this point. To the oblivious bystander, they could be easily perceived as intimate, but it was never like that.

They were just two broken beings that found comfort in each other's brokenness.

When his hands gently patted the backs of her thighs, she obediently jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips so he could cart her off to his room. It was almost uncanny how well her knew her; without even saying anything, he had read that she had no strength to walk anymore. He kicked the door shut and slipped the lock before whirling on his heel and silently carried her to his room. The entire time, Sakura just kept her face pressed into his sternum. There was always something so soothing about how his chest rose and fell against her face with his calm, gentle breaths. At this point she always vaguely considered the fact that they were strangely intimate for supposed best friends, but just like always, it was quickly washed away by the sense of calm that washed over her and chased away all the pent-up energy and fear.

Her head flopped sleepily against him as he sat down cross-legged in the tousled blankets of his futon.

"Thank you," she murmured against him. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, both of frustration at herself and gratefulness at his selfless care. That was usual for the entire routine, too. And every time, he said-

"You're such a drag." That playful hint in his tone never failed to alight a smile to her face. Her arms wound up around his neck to play with the hair that was for once freed from his high ponytail. Sakura would've never thought that Shikamaru had such soft hair, but he did. It always felt like silk beneath her fingertips as she gently wound it and rubbed it. It had become as much a compulsive gesture as everything else in the strange little sessions. Just like usual, Sakura's eyes were beginning to droop as she settled back into a safe space. It never took her long to fall asleep once she was in Shikamaru's arms.

Except this night was to be a little different.

"Sakura."

"Nnh?" she responded blearily. It was surprising she even reacted to her name being called, as she was descending in that warm watery feeling of encroaching rest. Her head lolled as she looked up at him, green eyes only barely cracked open to peer into his face through her thick lashes. "What is it?" If she had been more able of mind, she would have registered the tautness in his jaw and the uncertainty pooling in his black irises. However, it remained lost to her as she only gazed sleepily into his angular face. Her eyebrows only jumped a little as his gaze fell to her mouth, which was gaping only slightly in her sleepy stupor. Her mind was a few paces behind her senses, because even though she didn't perceive the fact his face was enclosing on hers, her lips adjusted to the inevitable fact that his were going to meet them.

A soft sigh bled off her tongue as they did, molding over her mouth deliciously like softened chocolate. It took a minute for it to click in her mind that Shikamaru was kissing her, but when it did, surprisingly, she did not react with surprise or reproach. Instead, it was like every cell in her body relaxed with a collective "Finally…" Although she was already slumped against him, she pushed her body further against him while her hands slipped into his strands of hair to cradle the back of his head, holding him in the sweet kiss. At first, he didn't move, but after a few seconds he hesitantly began to slide his mouth over her own in repeated movements. Sakura relished the slow, sensual dance of their lips and the way he tasted, of the husky robustness of lightly sweetened coffee… That was probably a sign he ingested way too much of it, but it was such an intoxicating flavor that Sakura sure as hell wasn't going to ever chide him for it. His hands found purchase in the soft flesh of her waist, fingers digging in slightly as he kissed her with more fervor. Slowly, he eased her onto her back against the futon, body resting between her legs that were still hugged around his hips. As he angled his head to kiss her more deeply and passionately, Sakura's head began swimming. It was eerily reminiscent of that feeling she had woken up with, tired yet restless, weary yet livened, exhausted yet undeniably alive.

When he finally pulled back, she was panting quietly. She had been so drunk on the kiss that she hadn't even realized her lungs were burning for oxygen. His face didn't full back far; he paused to run the tip of his nose along her own before his eyes opened halfway to peer intensely down at her.

"I'm really glad you didn't slap me for that little experiment," he remarked. Of all the things he could've said after such a passionate moment, that certainly was a Shikamaru thing to say, and it made her giggle.

"Would've been a drag, huh?" she chuckled as she circled her arms tighter around his broad shoulders. His thumbs were peeking just under her tank top hem, rubbing little circles into her hips. Sakura had a lot of things she could ask- how long had he felt this way about her, what made him choose this moment over all others, to name a couple- but she didn't. Those questions could come later. For now, she simply wanted to bask in the simplicity of it all.

They were just two individuals that had long been ruined, slowly piecing themselves back together. Of course a connection like that could easily turn into something more intimate. It made sense that Sakura had not reacted more strongly than she had. She was pulled out of her introspection as Shikamaru suddenly gave her a pouty look.

"Does this mean I don't have to sleep on the couch?" he asked hopefully. When Sakura laughed and nodded her head, he sighed in relief and tipped to the side to flop down in the futon beside her. "Good, it kills my goddamn back."

"You sound like such an old man."

"I get that often," he snorted but smirked at her. She rolled on her side to face him as he tugged the comforter over both their bodies, resting it just at the top of Sakura's small shoulder. His hand fell down to cup her face and sweep away a strand of her short pink hair. "You're so beautiful," he whispered admiringly. The pure reverence in his usually unbothered tone made her flush the shade of her hair. She only smiled before snuggling up against him, face pressing into the crook of his neck to once again breathe in that intoxicating natural scent of his.

Needless to say, the remained of Sakura's night was filled with only pleasant dreams.