No, I don't know what holiday is described in this fic. I'm only basing it on my recollection of Chinese holidays and rituals honoring ancestors and not on any specific holiday.
There is a small graveyard, located deep within the Nara lands. One must go past the Nara household and into the forest, following the faint scent of flowers and the rustling of wind. The path is nearly invisible, marked only by the vague hoofprints of deer and indentations of shoes, the remnants of past wanderers traveling by.
The trek will pass by a river, its waters teeming with fish. The muffled trickling is soothing, and its refreshing liquid a comfort to any weary passerby. A pit stop is usually made here around midday, an ideal place for picnic lunches, surrounded by lush, green trees and short bushes ripe with berries. The grass is soft and the rustling of leaves overhead will lull anyone to sleep.
However, the journey does not end here. After a reinvigorating break, the trail continues onwards, leading deeper into the forest. The sun begins to fade in and out of view, and a distant, dull shouting can be heard, though one wonders if it is their imagination as the sounds vanish once again, with no other people in sight.
The route eventually stops at a clearing, hidden in the shadows of the trees, away from the onslaught of human interference. A few flowers bloom, creating a boundary of sorts around the area, a colorful contrast to the surrounding dark green and gray. In the center, there lay a huddle of rocks, most of them small and nondescript/ Most notably, there are two newer headstones, their rocky exteriors shiny and smooth. The engravings of names and dates etched onto the hard surfaces are deep, made by someone with careful precision, and the letterings arrange themselves neatly in a row.
This is where Shikamaru finds himself, surrounded by forgotten ancestors of his past. He kneels in front of the two new headstones, his eyes watching them carefully, as if they could reveal unknown secrets.
Beside him, Temari stands still, her hands on their son's shoulders as Shikadai watches with wide eyes. He is only five, too young to know the true impact of these monuments, but old enough to know that they are important.
Shikamaru stands and turns to his family, stroking his goatee absentmindedly.
"Shikadai," he says, "what do you think these are?"
Shikadai tilts his head to the side. He has inherited his father's intelligence and he promptly says, "Tombstones."
"That's right," Shikamaru says quietly. He is silent again and the others wait patiently for him to find his words. "Do you know why we are here today?"
Shikadai shakes his head. "Not really."
"These are your grandparents' gravestones," Shikamaru explains. "We're here today to clean up a bit, to honor them."
Shikadai blinks, a small frown appearing on his face as his eyes furrow together. "But we already did that yesterday, with the rest of the clan and with the Yamanaka and Akimichis. We went to the burial grounds already."
"Well, that's true," Temari speaks up. She pats her son indulgently on the head, making him pout. "But these tombstones are special. No one is actually buried here; they're more like memorials."
Shikamaru smiles. "Read the words, Shikadai. What do they tell you?"
Shikadai steps forward, leaning his head towards the inscriptions. "Ka-ru-ra. This one says Karura. And this one...Shi-ka-ku? These are for grandma Karura and grandpa Shikaku, like you told me. But wasn't grandma Karura from Suna?"
"She was." Temari puts a hand out, touching her mother's gravestone carefully, a wistful look on her face. Shikamaru moves next to her, reaching a hand out comfortingly.
"Because our families come from two different villages who used to be at war with each other," Shikamaru says, "we aren't allowed to bury their bodies together. Your grandmother is with her ancestors in Sunagakure, and your grandfather is buried at the burial grounds we visited yesterday."
"Then...why have two of them?" Shikadai asks, puzzled.
"Well…" Shikamaru trails off to look fondly at his wife, who rolls her eyes at him, but there's a small smile on Temari's face that gives her feelings away. "I wanted a way for your mother to be close to your grandma Karura, so I had these two headstones installed."
"We've lost many people over the years," Temari says. "Hopefully you will not have to experience that any time soon. But your father created this so we could have our own special place to celebrate our unique family."
"You might live in Konoha, Shikadai," Shikamaru tells his son, "but you're both Suna and Konoha. You've got noble blood running through your veins."
Temari smirks. "Technically, you could become Kazekage one day."
Young Shikadai makes a face at those words. "I don't want to be Kazekage! Or Hokage! That's too troublesome."
His parents let out laughs, exchanging affectionate glances, though their son has no idea why.
"You should have been Hokage," Temari tells her husband once the laughter dies down.
Shikamaru shrugs, grinning as he waves his arm offhandedly. "Nah, I'll let Naruto have that privilege. That's his dream, after all."
"You're too soft," says Temari, but there's no animosity in her voice.
Shikamaru clears his throat. "Anyway, let's get this started."
From the basket they had brought over, the adults take out the contents. Shikamaru takes charge of the alcohol, placing five cups-one for each headstone and three in front of them-and pouring light yellow sake into all but one of them. Temari unravels the neatly packed food, while Shikadai organizes the flowers they had brought from Ino's store in the morning.
The sun will not set for a few more hours, but already their small graveyard is rich with shadows, as if the Nara ancestors were watching over them already.
They arrange the offerings and Shikamaru finishes the ritual by lighting incense. The family kneels before the two headstones, each carrying a few sticks of incense and bowing. They silently place the incense into the incense burner wedged between the gravestones, linking the two otherwise unconnected nations. After the incense, they each grab one of the cups, though Shikadai's had been filled with juice.
Shikamaru raises his cup towards his father's memorial, thinking of all that he had learned from him.
"Dad...I brought Shikadai this time. He's getting big, don't you think?" Shikamaru shakes his head ruefully. "But don't worry-he's still just as lazy as I was at that age."
Temari raises her own cup to her mother's memorial, her voice softer than her husband's. "Mom...I know you would have loved Shikadai. You might have left me too early, but one thing I always knew was that you loved me. I know you're watching over me, even now, and I hope you'll watch over Shikadai, too."
Shikadai raises his cup with two hands a little unsteadily but his parents reach out with an arm each to support him.
"Hi grandpa, grandma," Shikadai says. "I hope you are well. I hope one day I can be as brave as you two were." He hesitates shyly, unsure of what else to say, having never known them.
"He's a good kid," Shikamaru says, more to the deceased than to the living. Shikadai beams a little at his father's words.
In sync, they tilt their cups back, drinking in the cold liquid. Shikamaru thinks of the cunning general Shikaku had been, and the resolute father he was. Temari thinks of the kindness of Karura and her unyielding love as a mother.
Together, they will pass that on to their son.
As the incense burns low and the wind begins to pick up, a family of three makes their way back to the main village, to where familiarity and civilization resides. They walk slowly, in no hurry to get back, enjoying each other's company and the breeze blowing in their hair. The sun is setting, casting everything in a pleasant golden hue and warming their skin, reminding them that they are alive.
The forest eventually melts out of view and a rocky path forms. Soon, rectangular structures emerge and the low murmurs of their loved ones carry through the air and into their hearts. Their feet crunch on the floor, announcing their arrival and a bustle of widespread grins and laughter greet them.
The sun vanishes, leaving the world in darkness. But starts twinkle in the sky and the flickering of orange fire brightens the tiny house they live in. There is comfort and security there, and they know nothing can harm them, not while they have each other.
Because there is a small graveyard, located deep within the Nara lands. Tthere, one will find two lonely tombstones next to each other. Though they never knew each other in life, they are now forever united by the love of two souls from lands miles apart.
They are the protectors of their lineage and patrons of their parental love.
Even as the world continues to change, they will rest there, the guardians of their children.