"I feel as if you and I were never strangers, not even for a moment."

CHAPTER TWO


verything had changed since the crash that had killed Uchiha's Fugaku and Mitoko— Toshiko's parents —five months ago.

Toshiko and Mamarou, the yellow dinosaur the six year old's father had gotten her when she'd been born sat on the deck of her grand uncles Madara's home, staring off into the woods.

If her parents were alive she'd be in school. Madara, her grand uncle, had taken her out for the year once he'd been told she hadn't spoken since she'd watched the glowing tail lights of her parents car sink into the river. If her parents were alive her hair had would be longer; the doctors had shaved the left side of her head so that they could stitch the cut she'd gotten in the crash closed, leaving her aunt— her cousin Shisui's mother —to shave the rest of it off.

If her parents were alive she wouldn't be in Konoha, sitting on the deck of her grand uncles home home staring off into the woods she and her brother Sasuke had been forbidding from entering. According to grand uncle Madara the woods were haunted— guarded he had actually said; Obito had said haunted afterword's —and no one but those who cared for the deer could safely enter.

Toshiko's legs dangled off the deck. It wasn't a tall deck but unlike her brothers who had seeming inherited their fathers height Toshiko had gotten their mothers; her grand uncle said she would sprout up, that there had never been a short Uchiha but a voice in the back of her mind— a voice that sounded strangely like her cousin Shisui —doubted she would inherit the Uchiha height.

She would probably be stuck with her mother's tiny stature; there was, after all, a reason Shisui liked to call her squirt.

Toshiko's tiny arm squeezed around Mamarou's neck, hugging him tighter as she continued to watch the forest's tree line. She done her chores for the day and there still several hours left before Sasuke got home from school and Obito came back from work.

Maybe if the woods were haunted her parents ghosts would peak out from the trees or her mothers giggle would ring through them. Perhaps if they were haunted her parents spirits wouldn't be so far; perhaps it could be like they never left.

It was why, ever since they'd come into Uchiha Madara's custody and the old man and Obito had told her and Sasuke about the forest— about how it was guarded; how it was haunted —Toshiko had taken to spending hours upon hours peering into it, hoping that maybe she'd see her parents.

Something moved and for a second the young girl thought that maybe— that perhaps —it was her father. Or that maybe— perhaps —it was her mother. Toshiko couldn't help but think that maybe Obito was right and the woods were haunted; though that wasn't to say the woods being haunted were such a terrible thing. Them being haunted would mean her parents were back.

That they hadn't left her and her brothers.

But it wasn't. It was a deer— a stag —that peaked through the trees, not the ghost of her mother and or father.

The stag had large antlers that spanned at least several feet and dozens of tiny white specks that reminded the young girl of snow dotted the deer's back.

Toshiko met the deer's gaze. It's eyes weren't nearly as dark as her mothers had been, or her brothers were, but they were the kind of dark that reminded Toshiko of shadows.

The deer took a step forward, toeing the tree line that separated Nara Forrest and the ancestral Uchiha home. Toshiko, with Mamarou tightly tucked under her arm, slid off the deck; her eyes never once leaving the stags. She took a step forward and the stag didn't move; it didn't move— didn't take a single step back —not even when Toshiko was only inches from it and was forced to crane her neck upwards so that she could look the stag.

She didn't speak, didn't say Hello. The greeting bubbled on the end of her tongue but Toshiko physically couldn't open her mouth to say them. Her jaw wouldn't work; hadn't been since that night had happened.

Her and Sasuke had been arguing when the crash had happened. Their father had turned around— taken his eyes off the road for a split second —to reprimand them before the steering gave and they careened over the bridged railing and into the water down below.

Instead though, tentatively, Toshiko reached a tiny hand out and rested it against the base of the stags neck. Her small fingers threaded themselves through the stags hair. It was course and brittle, reminding Toshiko of hay.

Toshiko felt— as the stags head dipped down —herself freeze until the stags wet tongue darted out and licked the top of Toshiko's head, causing her already incredibly short hair to stick up and a giggle to make its way up her throat. She had laughed since the crash, she'd smiled— Obito and Shisui had made sure of that —but still, the giggle felt unfamiliar as did the soft smile Toshiko hid in the stags hair.

Looking back up at the stag Toshiko felt a handful of different questions flash through her mind; ones she wanted to ask the stag.

Is the forest really haunted? What's your name? Do you have one? Is Obi-san right? Are my parents in there, have you seen them?

She didn't though, instead she kept her questions to herself as she took to scratching the stags neck. Petting it. At least until a loud bleated call rang out, one that had the stags head tilt upwards and turn in the calls direction.

Is that your family? Toshiko wanted to ask, Are they calling you home?

Toshiko thought of Tokyo; of the apartment her and her parents and bothers had all lived in. The apartment hadn't been anything grandiose, not like the three story home Obito and Madara— and now her and Sasuke —all lived in. Sure she'd had the smallest room while her brothers had been forced to share but nonetheless it had been home. It'd been where she had taken her first steps and said her first words, where she had made her first and earliest of memories.

Where she and her brothers and parents had all been a family.

Had all been together.

The deer stepped back, away from Toshiko. Toshiko though, forgetting all about how her grand uncle had forbid her and her brother from entering the forest and only thinking about how she hadn't wanted her new friend— only friend; she didn't go to school, she didn't have any friends in Konoha besides her brother —to leave her.

The deer looked down at Toshiko with a measured gaze, one that almost seemed like the stag was thinking about whether it was going to allow Toshiko to follow after him.

Another bleated call rang out and the stag let out a huff, it's nose dipped down and brushed against Toshiko's shoulder, nudging her gently back towards her grand uncles home only for the girl to take a step forward instead, past the tree line she and the stag had been towing and fully into the forest.

The stag blinked. Wind rustled through the trees and the stag looked at Toshiko. It's eyes were dark and shadowy, there was more going on behind them then someone might think after only a glance. They almost looked human. The stag raised it's head and let out a loud bleated call of it's own, the call spanned several seconds and once the stag had stopped it turned once more to Toshiko, whos own dark eyes had gone wide with alarm due to how loud the stag's call had actually been.

Nothing was said, the stag didn't nudge Toshiko back towards the house nor further into the woods; nor did the stag lick her once more like it had done when she'd been petting it. Instead, quietly, the stag set off in the direction the other deer's calls had come from.

Silently Toshiko trailed after the deer. Toshiko's eyes flickered to the trees she and the stag weaved through; if the forest was haunted like Obito said then her parents spirits had to be in there with her and the stag.

She had to see them.

It was almost like a game of hide and seek; if they wouldn't come to her then she would go to them. Find them.

Several minutes later Toshiko clutched Mamarou tightly to her chest. The forest had grown darker; Toshiko and the stag had seemed to have gone far enough into the forest that the treetops had begun to abscond the bright sunlight. Toshiko felt her hands began to shake at the encroaching darkness.

She hated the dark. Water too; ever since the crash baths had become short showers and nightlights had turned to lamps.

Tears started to well up in her eyes; she was far from the house. Far enough that her heart began to sputter in her chest; if the stag— if her parents spirits once she found them —didn't help her find her way back she would undoubtedly be lost.

Papa, she thought weepily, Mama, where are you? Her bottom lip trembled as she and the stag began their ascend up a rather steep hill.

Toshiko had gotten lost once before.

Her mother had taken her and Sasuke with her to the mall so that they could pick up Itachi's birthday present; she'd been four at the time and she'd let go of Sasuke's hand so that she could peak into a toy stores display window.

She hadn't even thought about tugging on her brothers arm, or asking for her mother to pause for a second so that she could watch the toy train in the storefront. No, Toshiko had only realized her mother and brother had continued to walk on without her a few minutes later, once she was tired of watching the toy train go around and around on the tracks and after the crowd in the mall had swallowed them whole.

Her mother had found her a few minutes after that. Toshiko had been on the verge of tears when her mother and brother had found her; Sasuke's face was beet red and his eyes were wide and panicked, while their mother was already crying. Mikoto had dropped to her knees at the sight of Toshiko and grabbed the girl in a tight hug.

"Thank God," her mother had said into her hair, "You're okay. Never—" Mikoto had moved so that no longer was she crushing Toshiko against her chest but instead holding her half an arms length away, her hands gripped Toshiko's shoulders, "—Do that again Uchiha Toshiko, do you understand me? When you are out with me and your brothers or your father you do not let go of our hands!"

It was then Toshiko had burst out into tears. Not because of her mothers firm voice or because the grip Uchiha Mikoto had on Toshiko's shoulders had been too tight but because her mother and brother were there and she was safe.

Back then Mikoto hadn't hesitated in tugging Toshiko back against her chest, nor had she hesitated in pulling Sasuke into the hug; clutching both of her young children tightly to herself.

Mikoto's hugs had always been firm, even when she hadn't almost lost one of her children. They were firm and purposeful; always as if Toshiko's mother was trying to make the recipient of her hugs know just how much she cared for them. Her hugs— Mikoto's hugs, that was —also always smelled of soil; they might have lived in an apartment but on the balcony Mikoto had grown an impressive garden she tended to every day, growing everything from tomatoes which Sasuke loved to sneak as snacks to okra shrubs Mikoto maintained so as not to let them grow to large.

As Toshiko and the stag reached the top of the steep hill the six year old girl couldn't help but miss her mother's hugs; couldn't help but yearn for another. She missed her mothers garden. Madara didn't have one, though he did have a koi pond and lavish omono bonsai tree that had been in his care for what he said was almost fifty years.

Toshiko leaned against the stag as it came to a stop atop the hill, the deer raised it's large head and opened it's mouth— Toshiko cringed preemptively —to let out another bleated call.

A beat passed and another bleated whine sounded out, this time close by. Something moved; there was a large hiba tree at the base of the hill and a shadow stirred on the other side of it. Obito's voice warning her and Sasuke about how Nara Forrest was haunted flittered through the forefront of Toshiko's mind.

Mama? She thought with a baited breath as she moved away from the stag. Papa? She wondered as she started down the hill, only to lose her footing when a boy— not her mother or father; not their spirits —emerged from behind the tree.

The boy's eyes widened as Toshiko feel forward; straight for the trunk of the large hiba tree that was at the base of the hill.

Toshiko was sure that— somewhere between the loud shriek she let out as she tumbled head over heels and the bleated call the stag let out; this one different from the one's from before, this one more alert —she had heard the boy swear loudly as she braced herself— and Mamarou who she had tucked under her chin and clutched tightly as she rolled —to hit the tree.

Only to tumble into something else.

Only to tumble into the boy.

Toshiko opened her eyes and saw that the boy who had emerged from behind the hiba tree had cushioned her fall, placing himself between her and tree; Mamarou caught between them. Toshiko's mouth feel open at the boys dazed and somewhat pained expression.

The words Thank you and I'm sorry and Are you hurt, were all caught in her throat.

And just like when her mother and Sasuke had found her after momentarily losing her in the mall, Toshiko burst out into tears. Whether it was because of the boys kind and chivalrous act or because the fall had frightened her or because it was a boy who had emerged from behind the tree, not the spirits of her mother and father, she didn't know.

All Toshiko did know is that her knee throbbed and that her head was still spinning and that the boy who had cushioned her fall had begun to push himself up against the tree. moving her backwards and off his chest.

"Hey," The boy said, "Hey!" He said again, this time louder and catching Toshiko's attention. The girl's sob caught in her throat as he looked up at the boy, the top of Mamarou's yellow head tucked under her chin. "You're okay?"

Toshiko's bottom lip wobbled, she shrugged; Toshiko moved backwards, so that she was no longer on top of the boys legs and bent her right knee upwards. The fabric of her dark colored tights were torn and her knee was bloody. She sniffled loudly and though she tried to stop the sob that had been working its way up her throat Toshiko shoulders shook.

The boy let out a low sounding grumble, his shoulders sagged and though he looked putout at the sight of her scrapped knee the boy's moved so he was kneeling forward, no longer resting against the hiba trees trunk.

"Do you live close by?" The boy wondered, Toshiko— once again —shrugged. With wet eyes she looked around at the thick expanse of trees that surrounded her and the boy only to let out another sob; she had no idea where she was.

She wanted Sasuke; she wanted her brother to sling an arm over her and press her to his chest because he was there and he would protect her the way he always said big brothers were supposed to protect their younger siblings.

But mostly, Toshiko wanted her parents.

She wanted her mother. Her father. She wanted her father to pick her up the way he had when she'd fallen off her bike the year before and tell her everything was going to be okay. She wanted her mother to place one of the pink Band-Aids they kept in the bathroom onto her knee and kiss it better.

"Will you stop crying?" the boy asked, his hands on her shoulders, "Look, I live that way—" the boy turned at the waist and pointed in the direction straight past the hiba tree he and Toshiko had hit, "—My mom is home, I'm sure she fix your knee and take you home okay?"

Thank you, Toshiko wanted to say, I'm sorry for hitting you.

She said nothing of course, instead, with dirty hands and Mamarou in her lap Toshiko flattened her hands out in front of her. She placed her left hand over her right wrist before bringing it upwards towards her face; ever since she had moved in Obito's boyfriend Hatake Kakashi had been teaching Toshiko the basics of Japanese's Sign Language.

The boy's eyes narrowed.

"You're deaf?" The boy asked, Toshiko shook her head.

She pointed at her chest with her right hand before moving her hand away, she curled her pinky and ring finger inwards and moved her index and middle fingers to meet her thumb, signing No before her hand moved so that she could sign Talk.

The boys mouth opened only to quickly close his eyes still narrowed and calculating. "Right," he drawled slowly, standing up, "Come on."

Toshiko went to stand only for her knee to give out under her, and the boy to sign loudly as he looked up at the sky.

"This is such a drag," he said before, spinning around and kneeling down; he looked over his shoulder, "Get on, will you?"

Toshiko's brows creased together as if to ask if he was sure.

"Carrying you home would be less trouble then having to keep stopping because you're hoping after me."

Once more Toshiko signed Thank you before she threw her arms around the boys neck— Mamarou's arm was clutched tightly in Toshiko's hand, he bumped against the boys chest —and his arms wrapped around her calf's.

Toshiko rested her chin on the boys shoulder as he walked them in the direction of his home.

"I've never seen you before," the boy said, "How old are you?"

Toshiko held the hand that wasn't wrapped around Mamarou's arm and her thumb and pinky touched.

"Three?" The boy sounded dubious. Toshiko shook her head, her bottom lip slipped between her teeth for a moment before a metaphorical lightbulb went off above her head; her hand flattened and she tapped the space between the boys collarbone six times.

"Six?" Toshiko nodded. Around her and the boy the trees began to thin out, more sun started to peak though the leaves.

"I'm eight," the boy said.

Like Sasuke-nii, Toshiko thought in response. The pair of them broke through the tree line, ending up in the backyard of a nice looking home. It wasn't anything as large as Madara and Obito's but it was nice all the same.

"Hey?" The boy said, his head half turned over his shoulder so that the tip of her nose brushed against the side of his, "My mom can be a total drag, if she starts yelling do you think you can start crying?" He wondered.

Toshiko nodded; it was the least she could do for the boy, beside it wasn't as if she didn't have tears to spare. Sasuke had once called her a cry baby, and though it was true— and Itachi had agreed —her and Sasuke's eldest brother had pinched at Sasuke's ear all the same, scolding him not to be so mean.

The corners of the boys lips tipped up.

"Cool," he said before hiking Toshiko up higher onto his back, causing the young girl to let out a squeak as she was jostled. The boy snickered as he carried Toshiko towards his home and onto the deck; just as the boy set Toshiko down so that both he and her could slip off their shoes the back door slid open to reveal a woman— the boys mother —who was wearing both a non-pleased expression and a pink sun dress Toshiko thought was beautiful.

"Shikamaru what do you think you're doing here-why aren't you in class right now, young man!"

"Mom," the boy— Shikamaru —said, motioning to Toshiko, "She's hurt."

The woman's dark eyes slide from her son over to Toshiko; her stern expression slipped as she took in Toshiko's bloody knee and tear streaked face. Her chest swelled with air as she looked at her son once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

"And why couldn't you take her to the nurse at school?" The woman asked.

Shikamaru's cheeked turned a rosy pink, his hand clasped the back of his neck as his eyes turned downwards.

"We weren't at school," Shikamaru grumbled. His mothers head turned to the side, her brows hiked upwards,

"What was that Shikamaru, I couldn't hear you," Shikamaru's mother said testily.

Taking that as her que, Toshiko dropped onto her injured knee and yet out a painfilled cry when her cut hit the deck. Fresh tears started streaming down her face. Both Shikamaru and his mother moved towards her, Shikamaru pulled at Toshiko's elbows so that he was sitting on her butt while his mother kneeled down and her hands hovered over Toshiko's knee.

"How did you get hurt?" Shikamaru's mother asked Toshiko who instead of trying to answered whimpered as she cradled her bloody knee.

"She doesn't talk mom," Shikamaru answered from behind Toshiko.

"What do you mean she doesn't talk?" His mother asked him.

"She doesn't talk," Shikamaru repeated with a shrug and half a head shake, "But she got hurt falling down a hill in the forest."

Shikamaru's mother blinked at him and then Toshiko, as if she didn't understand the words her son had just said; the woman mouthed Shikamaru's response— The forest; her eyes flickered to the woods behind her home —before straightening up.

"I'm going to get some hydrogen peroxide and Band-Aids. Shikamaru it's your job to calm her down," his mother ordered before disappearing back into the house. Once she had turned the corner of what looked to be their kitchen and could no longer be seen Toshiko sniffed loudly as she turned to Shikamaru.

"Thanks," he mumbled. Toshiko, with a wobbly half smile, held her right arm perpendicular to her body before she brought it to her stomach; Welcome.

"I have no idea what that means," Shikamaru said. Toshiko grabbed his hand— it had still been cradling her elbow —and with the hand she wasn't using to hold his out flat in front of her she wrote the symbol for Welcome in the palm of his hand.

"Oh," Shikamaru blinked. "Okay."

A moment later his mother was back, hydrogen peroxide in one hand and a box of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Band-Aids in the other. As she took a seat in front of Toshiko the woman placed the Band-aids next to her as she unscrewed the cap of the peroxide.

"Alright sweetheart, this is going to hurt for a second but I need to clean out your cut okay? Who knows how much dirt got in there when you fell."

Toshiko, eyeing the peroxide nodded with a grimace, only to turn to look at Shikamaru when he had pulled the hand away from Toshiko. Shikamaru, who refused to meet Toshiko's eyes moved the hand she had been holding, so that instead of her holding his wrist he was— comfortingly —holding her hand.

It wasn't like her mothers hugs or her father's reassuring kiss to her brow nor was it even like when her brother would throw an arm over her shoulder; those touches told Toshiko that she was safe, that the danger had passed. Shikamaru holding her hand wasn't that, it was more— at least to Toshiko —like he was trying to tell her that everything was okay, that he was there for her though the pain and the danger.

Okay was fine. Different; okay was different and for once— for the first time since the crash —different wasn't bad. Different was okay.

Toshiko went to smile at Shikamaru only to let out a strangled cry as the boys mother began to poor the peroxide onto her cut; white foam fizzled.

"That means it's cleaning your cut, that there was a lot of dirt in there," Shikamaru's mother said. She placed the peroxide with the cap on next to her and grabbed the Band-Aids, she pulled out a large Band-Aid. The Band-Aid was a bright green that had teeny-tiny images of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on it; Toshiko sucked in a sharp breath as Shikamaru's mother rolled the Band-Aid across her cut.

"How's that feel?" The woman smiled. In response Toshiko held up the hand that wasn't linked with Shikamaru's and shot the woman a thumbs up. "That's great, now I know Shikamaru said you don't talk but I need to know your name sweetheart, do you think if I got you a pencil and some paper you could write it down for me?"

Instead of nodding Toshiko looked down at her and Shikamaru's conjoined hands and spelled out her full name on the back of his; his lips mouthed the pronunciation of every kana.

"Her name's Uchiha Toshiko." Shikamaru's head cocked to the side, before he could open his mouth to ask whatever was obviously on his mind his mother leaned forward.

"Uchiha? Like Madara-sama?"

"Old man Madara?" Shikamaru asked with a raised brow only for his mother to cuff him on the side of head; the eight year old winced.

"What I have told you calling him that! Show some respect!"

"It's not my fault he's a creepy old man!" Shikamaru cried back. He looked shiftily at Toshiko, "Sorry."

She shrugged. Madara was nice— he'd taken her and her brother in, made sure they were cared for, fed and clothed them; everything he really didn't have to do —but just because he was nice didn't mean Shikamaru wasn't right. After all, Toshiko's grand uncle did have a taxidermized crow he liked to talk to too, perched on one of the shelves in his living room.

"So Madara-sama huh? What is he your grandfather?" Shikamaru's mother wondered after having turned away from Shikamaru and back to Toshiko.

Ōoji, Toshiko replied on the back of Shikamaru's hand; Shikamaru repeated what Toshiko had traced onto the back of his hand and his mother had nodded.

"Alright then, I'm going to give him call-I'm sure Shikaku has his number squirreled away in his office somewhere," Shikamaru's mother said as she got to her feet, "In the meantime why doesn't Shikamaru show you his room, he has a bunch of games the two of you can play." Her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, she pointed a wagging finger in her sons direction, "But don't you dare think this means you're getting off easy Nara Shikamaru, once Toshiko-chan here leaves you are in so much trouble young man-I mean really! Cutting school!"

Shikamaru's shoulders fell. Once his mother was gone he muttered something that had sounded like What a drag, before getting to his own feet; slowly Toshiko followed his example.

Shikamaru went to unclasp his hand from Toshiko's only to pause when the young girl began to frown. She liked holding his hand, not only did it make her feel safe, much like holding her brothers hands made her feel but it was also easier to just hold it and trace whatever was on her mind rather then to constantly pull at him arm so she could trace whatever she wanted to say on his arm.

"You're kidding," Shikamaru said; Toshiko looked up at the boy through her lashes.

"Girls are so troublesome," Shikamaru breathed. Though he kept his hand in Toshiko's. The girl smiled at Shikamaru, her gap tooth smile peaking through as they stepped into his house. "Do you know how to play shogi?"

Toshiko shook her head. She knew the game he was talking about, her father had owned a shogi board when he had been alive.

"Do you want to?" She nodded.

The two of them turned the same corner Shikamaru's mother had turned before when she had gone to get the peroxide and Band-Aids. Shikamaru lead Toshiko down a long hallway— Toshiko eyed the pictures that littered the hallways walls, several of them were family photo's while the rest were of Shikamaru at various ages —before he pulled her into a room at the end of the hall.

His room.

Shikamaru's room was easily twice the size of her old room and only slightly bigger then the room she had just moved into. The walls were a dark blue; the kind of blue the night sky always seemed to turn into right before becoming pitch black. His bed— which had a stuffed deer on it —was pushed all the way up against the furthest wall from the door, the comforter was a bright cherry blue that was dotted in clouds.

There, encasing the dresser that was pushed up against the wall perpendicular to Shikamaru's bed were two book cases, both filled with various books.

In the middle of the room though, there laid a shogi board, already set up; a large circular rug was underneath it. The rug was green and reminded Toshiko of a patch of grass.

"Hey?" Shikamaru asked as both he and Toshiko moved to sit at the shogi table; he went to pull his hand back only for Toshiko to continue to hold onto it. His eyes thinned, "I'm going to need my hand back to play shogi."

Toshiko— as she placed Mamarou against her side on the floor —shook her head; she liked holding Shikamaru's hand.

He hung his head defeatedly and blew out a breath of hot hair, "Yeah I expected that," he muttered, he peaked up at Toshiko through his lashes, "You're going to be trouble if we becomes friends."

He had said it with such surety that it hadn't been a question. Like he knew that if he and Toshiko became friends she would be nothing but trouble. And yet he hadn't said it darkly or harshly, he'd said it in the same blasé sort of way he would when telling her whether or not it was raining outside.

It was why Toshiko, in response— to his easy going drawl —simply smiled at Shikamaru, her lips pressed together and the apples of her cheeks turned upwards.

"Wait if you're Old Man Madara's grand niece then that means you're related to the new kid in my class? Sasune, right?"

Toshiko nodded, she traced traced the hiragana to spell out Sasuke's name on the back of Shikamaru's hand before quickly tracing the kanji symbol for Elder brother as well.

"That's cool," Shikamaru replied, "I don't have any siblings." Toshiko frowned at the thought of being an only sibling. "Which really sucks 'cause shogi is my favorite game."

Toshiko's head cocked to the side; she traced the symbol for Friends on the back of Shikamaru's hand before following that with a question mark.

"I have friends," Shikamaru snickered, "It's just none of them like to play shogi, which can be a total drag when I want to play because that means I have to wait for my dad to get home so that someone can play with me. I mean, it's not that I mind Naruto and Choji don't like shogi. I mean, at least not really. I'd never want them to change because then we wouldn't be friends and that—" Shikamaru emphasized, "—Would be the biggest drag."

I'll play with you then, Toshiko wanted to say, Whenever you want, I'll play shogi with you.

She didn't, of course, couldn't find a way for force the words out of her mouth, though Shikamaru seemed to understand what she had been thinking as her shoulders bunched up and her chest swelled because he flashed her a thankful and eager smile; his front teeth peaked out from behind his lips.

"Okay," Shikamaru started, his arm outstretched on the side of the shogi table and his hand still in Toshiko's, "So I should probably start off by telling you what all the pieces are. There are nine pawns, then there are two lances, Knights, Silver Generals, and two Gold Generals. Then there's the Bishop, rook and King, there's only one of those."

Toshiko nodded.

"So the whole point of the game is to almost capture your opponents King." Toshiko's head cocked to the side, "Yeah Naruto thought that sounded weird too. Basically what you want to do is put my King in a position where I can't do anything my King being taken next turn."

That made more sense. Toshiko nodded.

Move? She traced onto the back of Shikamaru's hand. The boy scooted closer to the board, an exited glint beamed to life in his eyes. Toshiko took the moment of Shikamaru explaining how the shogi pieces on the board moved to observe him.

The bridge of his nose was rounded outwards, his skin was tan and it was obvious he spent most of his time in the sun. His eyes were dark, though not in the same way hers were, but rather Shikamaru's eyes were dark the way walnuts were; they were warm too. His chin was sharp and pointed and his hair, which had been pulled back and smoothed into a tight ponytail stuck up; Toshiko could see a leaf that had gotten stuck near the elastic of his ponytail from where she sat.

"Alright," Shikamaru breathed, "Here's how shogi is better then chess, unlike chess, shogi lets you brings back pieces. See a player with one or more captured pieces can skip their turn and drop a captured piece onto the board. It depends on what piece you're going to drop but a dropped piece can basically be reentered onto any vacant square."

Toshiko nodded; "Now, also," Shikamaru added, "There's this thing in shogi called promotion. That just means if a piece other than the Gold General or King makes a move that ends with them in the last three rows of your opponents side of the board then the player-me or you, can choose to promote that piece which just means we turn the promoted piece over to reveal the symbol underneath. So pawns, lances, Knights and Silver Generals all get promoted to be Gold Generals. Rooks and Bishops get promoted into something else and while the names totally don't matter they do start moving differently. So a promoted Rook moves like a Rook but can now also move a single square diagonally while a promoted Bishop can start moving at right angels."

Toshiko sucked in a deep breath once Shikamaru was done— maybe if she breathed hard enough she would be able to soak up all the new shogi related information —only for Shikamaru to squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"Do you want me to go over that again?" Toshiko shot Shikamaru an apologetic look before nodding. "It's okay. What part confused you?"

Promotion she traced onto the back of Shikamaru's hand. He nodded understandingly.

"Back when my dad taught me promotion was pretty hard for me to understand too. I always forgot to turn my piece over or did it too soon," Shikamaru told her before once more he began to explain just what promotion was in shogi and what that meant for each piece all the while Toshiko listened in, and— for the first time since the crash —forgot.

Forgot that she was a orphan. That her parents were dead; that she had witnessed their deaths firsthand. Forgot that— at least for the moment —she wasn't okay.

Instead, as Toshiko listened to Shikamaru, she found herself focusing on one single fact; she had made a friend.