"And as I dream I'm falling down,
The world moves without a sound.
I'm lost as sure as I am found,
The sun comes up without a sound."
-Alexi Murdoch
Dusk had fallen over Konoha. The sky was a brilliant watercolor portrait of oranges and purples, and the swollen sun bathed the cemetery in a hazy glow. Shikamaru didn't realize how long he had been standing in front of his father's grave - hands in his pockets, stub of a cigarette long since burned out held precariously between his lips - until the first twinkling stars began to appear on the horizon. He shook himself from his stupor, discarded the cigarette, and turned towards the exit. He wondered if his mother was worrying about him. Had she even noticed that he was gone for so long? She had been trapped within her own trance lately, walking around the house in a daze and going through the motions of day-to-day life. Just another widow figuring out how to carry on after the war.
He passed the rows of smooth, white headstones bearing the names of the fallen. Too many of the graves were fresh. The perfect stones, yet unmarred by the elements, gleamed in the fading sunlight. Flowers and trinkets rested on many. Toys left by children; flowers left by lovers. Shikamaru turned his head away as he passed them.
A familiar figure stood in front of one of those new, polished stones. The orange light of dusk added a beautiful red glimmer to her platinum hair as she stood fully washed in the illuminating setting sun. Her long tresses spilled over her shoulders. Styling it into her usual ponytail must have been too much to handle on that particular day. Shikamaru understood perfectly. Some days, the only thing he could manage to do was pull his own hair back, and even that took more effort than it was worth.
"Ino."
She had been lost in thought, and she started as he stepped beside her father's grave and pierced the still air with her name. Her fingers quickly brushed at her eyes, discarding the teardrops clinging to the corners of her eyes into the cool twilight.
"Oh, hey." She cleared her throat. "You too, huh?"
"Yeah." Shikamaru glanced back towards his own father's grave. Shikaku and Inoichi were close friends. They had sacrificed themselves for the benefit of the whole village, dying side-by-side in a horrific flash of destruction. It seemed wrong that they were placed so far apart. "How long have you been here?"
She let out an airy laugh that sounded incredibly forced. "I don't even know. What about you?"
Shikamaru could only shrug. He couldn't even recall what he had for breakfast that morning, if he had had breakfast that morning, let alone recount the hours he spent replaying every memory of Shikaku he had while standing in front of his father's grave. It wasn't the first time, either. He lost countless hours in this place after the dust from the war settled.
She turned to face him, the shadows washing over her face and making her appear so much older than her years. War could do that to a person, Shikamaru mused as he felt her bright blue eyes studying his own face. He was sure he looked no better.
"Are you hungry?"
Her question surprised him. It was getting late, sure. If life were normal, he'd be eating dinner with his parents right about then. But life wasn't normal anymore. When, he wondered, was the last time he had even thought about something as mundane as hunger? He had been eating, of course. His mother's half-hearted nagging pushed him to bring the chopsticks to his mouth at mealtimes, but lately he couldn't even taste what he was chewing on.
Ino was looking at him expectantly. She wanted an answer. He slid his hand into his pocket, felt the cool, comforting metal of Asuma's lighter brush against his fingers, and gave a light nod. "Sure. I could eat."
It was a lie, but it didn't matter. A small light illuminated her eyes at his answer. She didn't smile, but he sensed the relief within her. She cast one more glance at her father's grave before walking towards the exit with Shikamaru by her side. Many of the elaborate bouquets and flower arrangements they passed on their way out were made by Ino herself. Lately, she had been holing up in the flower shop, keeping herself busy with orders. Shikamaru supposed it was a coping mechanism. He was beginning to think he needed one too.
"Just a consequence of war," she muttered as they stepped through the cemetery gates and out onto the thinning crowd of people returning to their homes after another day of work.
Her words made Shikamaru pause. What did she expect him to say in response to that? She was right, and nothing he could possibly say would change that. All he could do was agree. "Unfortunately, it's true."
"Hearing that doesn't exactly help anything," Ino said simply, keeping her eyes forward as they walked through the quieting streets.
Shikamaru let out a breath, fingers curling around the lighter. "No. It really doesn't, does it?"
She turned her eyes on him, and he felt the depth of those baby blue orbs as he met her gaze.
"You know what else doesn't help?" she asked simply.
There were a million responses to that question. Nothing helped. Where could he even begin? But he was curious about her answer. "What?"
She moved her gaze forward again. Her voice was sad, but there was a touch of humor buried deeply within it as well as she spoke. "Getting told what a war hero he was all the time. As if he wasn't the guy who never put a dish in the sink in his life, or the guy who couldn't fold a shirt, or the guy who once nearly set the kitchen on fire trying to boil an egg. He's just been reduced to War Hero Inoichi like he wasn't a whole, complete person."
Shikamaru listened with a sinking feeling in his chest. How easy it was to forget that all those lost to the war were human before they were shinobi. The endless sea of dead faces, their fathers amongst them, filled with flaws and imperfections. His own father's final words to him consisted of asking Shikamaru to make sure he disposed of a hidden porn stash before his mother could find it, which he dutifully took care of. But he couldn't tell Ino that. Instead, he nodded and looked up to the fading sky.
"I've gotten some of those comments, too," he admitted. "And a lot of 'you must be so proud of your father' or 'you must have a lot of work ahead of you as the new head of the clan' crap."
A faint smile touched the corners of Ino's mouth. "You've got me beat there. At least I don't have that kind of responsibility riding on me."
Shikamaru sighed heavily. "Honestly, it's a real drag."
"I can't even imagine."
Ino paused outside of a bento shop, studying the premade meals sitting in their display case. They were beginning to close for the night, and the pickings were slim, but because of the time, the prices had been reduced for a faster sale. "Are you okay with takeout?" she asked. "I can't stand the sympathetic looks I keep getting in public. We can eat at my place."
"Sure," Shikamaru agreed easily. He was also tired of the looks. He wondered if they would ever really go away.
With their dinners in hand, Ino led him back to her apartment. It was a basic, one room affair with a decently sized living space. She had moved in a few months before the war, claiming she just couldn't stand living at home with her parents anymore. Shikamaru and Chouji had helped her carry her seemingly endless number of boxes across the village the day she moved in. How small her issues must seem to her now, Shikamaru thought absently as he removed his shoes and stepped into the kitchen area.
She pushed open the sliding door that separated the kitchen from the living space and crossed the threshold, Shikamaru close behind. The room was filled with her sense of style. A daybed that also served as her couch rested against one wall, covered with a floral comforter and eclectic-colored pillows. Fairy lights were strung up on the wall directly above it, their sparkling lights creating a glittery effect in the dimly lit room. A pink rug was spread over the old tatami floor. Over the rug was a low table with fresh flowers in a vase sitting atop it. In the corner was a small TV and bookshelf crammed with mismatched volumes. Ivory curtains had been pulled over the sliding glass door that led onto the small balcony. The place was cozy, warm and inviting.
Absently, Ino nudged the radio sitting beside her bed with her toe and soft music began to play quietly in the background. She sat cross legged on her bed with her bento in her lap as Shikamaru took a seat on the floor, his back leaning against the bed.
"How's your mom doing?" Shikamaru asked as he pried the plastic lid off his bento.
Ino placed a bite of rice in her mouth and contemplated as she chewed. "She's okay. Sad, but coping. Yours?"
"The same." Shikamaru pushed the meat around in its container. "I've been staying at home with her more in case she needs help or something. My dad used to help her as best he could around the house."
A faint smile touched her lips. He didn't even have to turn his head to see it. He could hear it in her voice. "And nag him every step of the way from the way you described it."
Shikamaru smirked and brought his chopsticks to his mouth. For the first time in a while, the savory flavor washed over his tongue. "Yeah, he was bad at it. But I think she liked his help regardless."
"They'll be okay, our moms." It sounded more like she was reassuring herself, but her words made Shikamaru feel a little better regardless. "They're resilient."
"You're not wrong," he agreed, taking another bite of his dinner. "They've seen more war and tragedy than we have." He paused, a sigh escaping his lips. "I hope things are better for our kids."
Ino considered that as she pushed her rice around with her chopsticks. "If Naruto's vision of peace becomes a reality, the next generation could have an entirely different way of life. I can't even imagine what that world would look like."
Shikamaru closed his eyes for a moment, trying to picture it. "Imagine not needing essential shinobi positions."
"Or secret ANBU teams dispatched to gather intel in other villages."
Shikamaru laughed lightly and shook his head. "That sounds like a dream."
Ino leaned forward, catching Shikamaru's eye as he glanced over his shoulder. "You know what else is in that dream? Some kind of transportation system between villages. And tourism. No need for especial entry permits, just a chance to explore each country's culture."
"We'd need to have really solidified alliances for that," Shikamaru said, the analyst within him instantly kicking in.
Ino shrugged and took another bite. "Hey, I said it was just a dream."
Shikamaru chuckled lightly. It came to him surprisingly easy. There wasn't much he found humor in lately.
They continued to eat in comfortable silence for a while. He could tell that Ino was thinking about something, though he couldn't tell what. She used to be so easy to read, predictable like a game of Shogi against Chouji, but that was before everything changed. He couldn't even begin to guess what was going through her mind.
"Imagine if we could just go anywhere we wanted," she mused. "Say, Suna, for example. Not for a mission, just for fun. Trying all the local dishes, visiting museums, seeing all of the differences between their village and ours…" She set her empty bento aside and propped her elbow on her knees, resting her chin in her hands while her eyes wandered to somewhere far away. "What do you think the most outrageous thing they have there is? Something that's totally normal to them, but would seem weird to us in the Leaf?"
Shikamaru shrugged, sparing a moment to think about it. When nothing particular came to mind, he simply said, "Beaches, maybe?"
Ino burst into laughter and Shikamaru wondered if he would need to defend himself, but she quickly shook off her amusement. "That's not very creative, you know."
So, he did need to defend his choice after all. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Maybe not, but all we have around here are hot springs."
"I was thinking a little more outside of the box," she said teasingly. "Like…what if they had," she paused to contemplate then brightened as an idea struck her, "a sand museum! Sure, a museum that showcases all the types of sand in their country."
"A museum with just different types of sand?" Shikamaru's thoughts must have been apparent on his face because Ino's expression soured.
"Well, maybe it has other sand related things, too," she said defensively. "Like…hourglasses?"
Shikamaru choked back a laugh. "That sounds pretty on the nose."
"Hey, don't tease me when all you can come up with is beaches." She snickered and nudged his shoulder playfully with her foot, jostling the container of food in his lap.
He couldn't help but laugh, shrugging her foot away as he grabbed the container and saved it from spilling onto the rug. "Hey, don't get your foot in my food!"
"Oh, come on. I wasn't even close. My movements are very precise, you know," she reminded him.
"Alright, I'll give you that." He smirked. It felt so much like old times that for an instant, he almost forgot that their fathers were dead. That Asuma was dead. That the world had shifted in such a drastic way, he wasn't sure how they could possibly recover. His expression began to falter.
"Have you seen Chouji lately?"
He raised a brow at her change in topic and gave a single shake of his head. "Not for the past few days."
She lowered her head. "It feels like he's avoiding us. Like he doesn't know what to say."
Shikamaru sighed heavily and set his bento aside, leaning back against her bed. "I noticed. He seems to be feeling…guilty."
"Survivor's guilt. Yet another thing that gets drilled into our heads but can't be fully understood until it actually happens." He heard her shifting on the bed and turned his head to see her slide down onto the floor next to him, drawing her knees to her chest.
Shikamaru watched the way her eyes lowered to the ground. She was retreating into her own thoughts again. A new habit probably brought on by some survivor's guilt of her own. He paused for a moment. He was tempted to calculate his next words, his next moves, but he brushed the urge aside and decided to just go with what he was feeling. He raised his arm and wrapped it gently around her shoulders. He could feel her hesitation for only the briefest moment before she leaned in heavily against him.
"We'll be okay eventually." The words felt hollow in his mouth.
"It doesn't feel that way," Ino said quietly.
His thumb brushed lightly against the bare skin of her shoulder. "But it will." He sighed. "Well, it should."
She glanced at him. Her eyes, shimmering with tears that may or may not be shed, studied his face. "Do you really think there can be a future where parents can expect to live to see their grandchildren?"
Shikamaru wondered if his father had that hope. It was too late for Shikaku, but would he be able to accomplish that seemingly simple task? "I hope so," he said quietly. "I really do."
Her eyes met his and he didn't look away. So many dreams glittered behind that ocean of blue. A year ago, those dreams would have been unattainable. But now it was anyone's guess.
"Do you think our generation can be the one to do it?" she asked softly.
His eyes never left hers. "I think so."
Ino opened her mouth to say something. He could see the words forming in her eyes before she could vocalize them. But somewhere in that brief space between thinking and speaking, she changed her mind. Her hands went to his cheeks, cradling his face gently as she leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips.
Shikamaru was taken aback, but he did not pull away. Her lips were like velvet against his, her hands comforting and gentle against his skin. He leaned into her touch, soaking up all she had to offer. His own hands went to her waist, drawing her closer.
But sitting on the floor was uncomfortable, and after a few minutes of tender kisses and wandering hands, Ino took Shikamaru by the shirt and stood, pulling him to lay on the bed with her. He hovered over her for only a moment before bending down to catch her lips again. He didn't think, he only acted. Soon his shirt was on the floor and his fingers worked to pull down the front zipper on Ino's top, kissing the warm flesh of her chest as it became exposed.
His mouth explored her tender skin, her hands trailed over his bare back as if she were trying to memorize every muscle there.
And when they came together, it was as if all the pieces had fallen into place. His head rested in the warm nook of her shoulder; her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Being that close to her was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Her body was like an oasis in the desert of his war-torn heart. She filled a space within him that he didn't even realize had been empty, and from the way she clung tightly onto him, like a drowning victim in need of saving, he guessed she felt the same.
When it was over, they lay side by side in comfortable silence, his arm draped lazily over her waist. Her eyes continued to study his face, as she had been doing all night, but she did not vocalize her thoughts. Maybe she didn't need to, Shikamaru thought. When he met her gaze, her blue depths told him all he needed to know.
They didn't sleep exactly but dozed in between soft kisses and gentle caresses. The warm light of morning peeking through the curtains was largely ignored as Shikamaru pulled her close to him. The future was undecided, but it started that day, and if that future consisted of holding Ino in his arms all night, then so be it. The hurt was still there. It always would be. But it was something that could be shared and understood between them.
With her snuggled warmly against his chest, drifting in a light, dreamless sleep, Shikamaru felt for the first time that things were going to be all right after all.