Some said that Lee was a genius of hard work and everybody agreed that Lee trained all the time. But Lee had a secret, he didn't train all the time. This morning for example, at 6 AM, he was already up, and no one would doubt that he was training. He wasn't though. Today morning, Lee was running fast, to a destination that had nothing at all to do with his taijitsu, with his guts, with his strength, or with anything of the kind. After all even Lee deserved a break. It was spring.
Lee ran fast, faster than during training, and breathing irregularly, drawing in fresh, spring air with the full force of his lungs. He sped so that his usual bowl-cut hair was out of it's usual shape. Finally he reached the spot he wanted to get to, a little hill, just outside of Konoha, surrounded by trees, but it itself a field.
He dumped himself on the ground, and there, amid the tall grass and short clovers, lay Konoha's beautiful azure beast, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot. Sprawled on his back, staring at the blue sky, and chewing on a blade of grass. Hell, he might even watch the clouds or try to find a four-leaf clover. Not as training, just for fun. If someone from the village saw him right now, they might not even recognize him, though it might seem that the round eyes and thick eyebrows were impossible not to recognize if you saw them even once.
Lee wasn't Shikamaru, he would probably get bored sooner or later, he would once again remember his nindo, he would be up in no time, and back in his training clothes. He would probably soon be training. But for now Lee was just himself, not the taijitsu expert, not the genius of hard work, but Lee, the boy who knew both failure and success, disappointment and triumph and who like everyone else, or perhaps more, deserved to spend some time doing nothing at all.