AN: These are vignettes of clumsy poetic should've, would've, could've's, that I imagine to be. You might recognize some of them explored more in-depth in my other works. Who knew an anime series could inspire me to write? Naruto is the ONLY creative writing I do—that goes to show what an amazing author Kishimoto is, to create so many memorable characters who we'd love to love, hate and befriend.
Speculations
By Enkie
Memory #1: Good Friend
Chouji X Shika
Chouji was Shikamaru's friend. Best and only friend, as a matter of fact, for Shikamaru didn't flippantly consider everyone as such. Friend was a title to be earned through trials of one's heart and loyalty.
This moment was one of said trials.
Chouji was doing the most any man could ask of his friend, thought Shikamaru. Chouji's face was scrunched in concentration with flecks of sweat beaded in his hairline. It was a hot summer day and his body wasn't built to last in heated conditions, yet he patiently stayed. In the far off distance, the air wavered from the intense heat.
"Checkmate." Shikamaru stated matter-of-factly.
"I give up! Why did you even ask me to play with you?" Chouji rolled his eyes. He knew in advance who the winner was going to be. He rolled over to lie on his back, sitting cross-legged gave him calf cramps.
"Because," Shikamaru held an unusually serious expression, his keen stare made Chouji nervous, "Asuma is away on a mission."
Memory #2: Gratitude
Chouji X Shika
Years later, Shikamaru would remember that incident and wish for a day when he could finally pay Chouji back for the friendship he bestowed. To many, perhaps a game of shogi was nothing more than what is, but to Shikamaru, it meant something entirely different. Chouji hated playing shogi and he knew he was going to lose, yet he still played. That action in itself spoke volumes of his character and solidified a quiet unyielding bond between them.
Little did Shikamaru suspect, today was the day.
As he pushed Chouji out of the way, a claw whipped through the air and slashed through his sides. His ribs were crushed by something heavy he cannot see. As he lay pinned, he saw that Chouji lay motionless in the far distance, unconscious but unharmed. He smiled a last smile and let darkness take him.
Memory #3: Brothers
Sasu X Itachi
He loved him and he hated him, and he'd do anything to rid himself of these conflicting emotions. No one ever said it was going to be easy.
He stood over the still figure on the ground, and looked deep into the muted dead eyes. They were mirror images of his own. He began to cry, broken in spirit and body, straddling the corpse and holding the head to his chest. Dead limp hands hung still. Sasuke is now truly the last of his kin, the cycle finally complete. His howl echoed through the emptiness of his heart.
Free from his self-imposed shackles of hate, he wonders what he will do with his life next. The possibilities were endless. Perhaps he will find another to love…and to hate.
Memory #4: Color of Death
Neji
Neji never thought about death, in relation to himself. Others died, including his father, but not him. He believed in a greater purpose for his existence, for his paramount genius. After all, no one ever thought an insignificant branch family member such as he would possess such unfathomable power. He lived for this purpose alone, and, therefore, the world, as he saw it, existed in black and white—against him or for him.
The passage of time accelerated as one grew older.
Before Neji knew it, he was the only one of his clan alive. He was alone. All his life, he strived for the day to be validated as the strongest, worthy of the family throne. And he was, his lone existence was proof of his skill, its finality indisputable.
He sat alone in the yard, underneath petals of cherry blossom that drifted where the wind willed. He raised his sword ceremoniously and collapsed as his sword pierced his body. A puddle of blood slowly forms around his white kimono robes, its color gradually climbing the cloth where it caressed. As the thick liquid reached his face where it touched the ground, his milky irises at last saw brilliant crimson. And he found peace.
Memory #5 Healing
Shika x Ino
Tenderly, he lifted the sheets away from her naked body. Cigarette burns lined her inner thigh.
Why did you do it, he asked.
One for each heartbreak, she answered.
He kissed each scar, missing not one.
She sighed as she lost herself in his embrace; his murmurs caressed her bare skin. Deep into the night, skin slick with sweat, their bodies collided together and slipped apart. She wondered why she hadn't seen him as she did now, a man who would lead, instead of a boy who faithfully followed.
The healing starts now, he was sincere in his promise, and she believed its eternity with conviction.
She forgot that in death, all promises were moot.
Memory #6: Kindred Spirits
Neji X Sasu
Over a hot bottle of sake, Neji and Sasuke shared a rare moment. Two men strikingly similar, and hated each other for it. In the past, they'd circle each other like hounds, sniffing and prodding for hidden weaknesses, never relenting their guard.
Alas, fate would have it her way despite the protests from her constituents. And here they were, sharing sake.
The last of their kin—it was a fact that both freed and disoriented them. Like a domesticated dog that had lost its leash, neither knew the next move on the chessboard of life.
Both reaching for the sake bottle, their fingertips brushed. Pausing in uncertainty, they exchanged a long gaze.
Perhaps Sasuke had found the new one for him to hate and to love. He covered Neji's hand with his.
To be continued…
