He sees the shadows on the floor, reaching out, almost touching before glancing away. Something is pulling. Against the light, he is beginning to see the reflections.

It was nearly six o'clock by the time Choji thought to get up to stretch his legs. Over the past few hours, the number of medic-nin had dwindled back to the usual two observers as well as Shizune. They bustled around the room every few minutes, checking monitors, making reports. No new injuries had been reported, much to the relief of everyone involved with the mission.

Choji had chosen to remain in the observation room, despite Shizune's insistence that it wasn't necessary. Tsunade had stepped out earlier in the afternoon – just because her chief strategist had sustained a serious injury, it didn't preclude her from having to take care of her duties as the Hokage. She had promised to be back by five, but five o'clock had come and gone, and it had been nearly half an hour since Choji had finished his last bag of chips. As if to remind him of this fact, his stomach gave a pronounced rumble.

He frowned. Maybe it was time to go find something to eat. And as much as he wanted to remain in the observation room, just in case anything happened, he also realized that sitting around watching his two teammates really wouldn't do anything to help them.

He was sure he had seen a vending machine down the hallway earlier in the day. Following his instincts, he slipped out the door and past the medics on duty to search for something to tide him over. He hated to admit it, but he ate more when he was nervous. Particularly when his teammates weren't around to chide him for overeating.

Right at the moment, he would have given almost anything just to get yelled at by Ino or to have Shikamaru gently remind him that he was on his third bag of the hour.

The vending machine was right where he remembered, squirreled away in a little alcove three doors down from the room Shikamaru and Ino were in. It was fully stocked – everything from chocolate to chips stared back at him through the glass. But even as Choji glanced over the bright packages, he felt his hunger waning. Every time he thought he had come to a decision, the thought of Shikamaru's vacant eyes flashed across his mind. Trying his best to ignore the churning of his stomach, he finally settled on his usual flavor of chips. The little machine whirred and the package clunked heavily into the tray, a muted sound. He fished it out of the slot distractedly.

He walked back down the hallway, taking his time to return. It wasn't as though they needed him there. A small pop caught him by surprise – a tiny hole had opened in the back. Maybe, he thought, he ought to relax his grip a little.

Choji had almost reached the room when he caught strains of a conversation that carried down the corridor from the direction of the stairwell.

"…I just need to see Tsunade-sama. I have important information that I believe she would find helpful."

Mrs. Yamanaka's voice was instantly recognizable, quiet but insistent. Choji ambled over to the stairs, hoping to hear better.

The voice of a young man followed, verging on the edge of panic.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but she has requested that only authorized personnel be allowed beyond this point."

Uh-oh.

Knowing the unfortunate fate that was about to befall the poor attendant if someone didn't intervene, Choji rushed up the stairs. In the bright fluorescent light of the hallway, a pale young man was walking backwards in an unsuccessful attempt to bar a tall, grim-faced woman from forcing her way toward the basement. Though Mrs. Yamanaka was a calm woman in many dire situations, a trait Choji had always admired, she looked as though her patience was about to expire. Fortunatly for the medic, when she noticed Choji jogging toward them, Mrs. Yamanaka visibly lightened.

"Choji!" Mrs. Yamanaka said warmly. "Would you mind telling this young man who I am?"

The attendant turned, his expression not unlike that of many another man cowed by a formidable Yamanaka woman.

Like mother, like daughter.

The attendant shrugged apologetically, gesturing at the chart in his hands.

"Akimichi-san, she insisted on seeing Tsunade. I told her…"

"Tsunade-sama will want to see her immediately," Choji corrected gently, glancing at the chart. He pointed to a line about halfway down the page. "See there? Yamanaka-san is her mother."

The attendant's mouth closed in a silent "oh" of apology, flushing as he recognized his mistake.

"I'm terribly sorry, Yamanaka-san. We can take you to see her right away."

"That's alright," Mrs. Yamanaka gave a quiet cough, which Choji knew to be a tacit expression of her displeasure. "I'm sure Choji can take me from here. Can't you, dear?"

The attendant paled noticeably.

"Yes, of course." Choji said, attempting a reassuring smile at the attendant. It didn't appear to take. The man was just as pale as ever.

"Very good." Before he could so much as say another word, the attendant scurried off down the hallway.

Mrs. Yamanaka turned back to Choji, bearing a strained smile. There were deeper lines in her face than Choji remembered.

"Thank you for your help, Choji. I'm afraid that poor little man would have kept me running in circles indefinitely if you hadn't shown up."

"It was the least I could do, Yamanaka-san." Choji shrugged ingratiatingly, directing Mrs. Yamanaka down the stairs toward the room where Ino and Shikamaru were.

As they walked, Choji realized he had no idea what to say. Mrs. Yamanaka had always intimidated him slightly. Though she was much quieter than her boisterous daughter, she had always maintained an air of calculated calm. How she and Inoichi had produced such a loud child was a constant mystery to many around them.

Fortunately, Choji was spared having to come up with something to say in the nick of time. When Mrs. Yamanaka saw that he wasn't going to continue, she took the opportunity to revive the conversation.

"How have you been, dear?" she asked amiably.

"Worried," Choji blurted.

He grimaced. That probably wasn't the best way to answer. "I mean… I've been alright. Just…"

"…concerned." Mrs. Yamanaka finished for him, offering a quiet smile. "I understand that you were on the mission with Shikamaru. With both your teammates working under such hazardous conditions and you unable to help them, I can imagine that would put you a bit on edge. Have you gone home to sleep?"

Choji flushed. It may have been months since he had seen her, but Mrs. Yamanaka still knew him better than many people.

"I went home for a little while."

"Well, good." She nodded matter-of-factly. "I know Shikamaru and Ino would want you to take care of yourself, even if you are worried."

They walked in silence for a little while, but this time, it was an amiable silence.

They had almost reached the door to the observation room before Choji thought seriously about the conversation she'd been having with the attendant.

"You said you had information for Tsunade-sama?"

"Yes," Mrs. Yamanaka murmured, gesturing at some papers in her hand. "She came to me asking for some information about Inoichi – well, you saw when you came to find her – but I didn't find what she was looking for until after she left. Still, I thought it might be helpful."

"She wasn't here when I walked out," Choji said apologetically, opening the door and ushering her inside, "but I'm sure she'll be back soon, and interested in seeing those papers. Do you want me to go try to find her?"

Mrs. Yamanaka had taken no more than three steps into the room when she stopped, her eyes fixed on the window into the room that housed her daughter. Ino looked even paler than before, and her head and right wrist were swathed in bandages. Shizune had ordered that an IV be set up, and one was currently pumping fluids into Ino's uninjured arm.

Choji couldn't exactly imagine what Mrs. Yamanaka was feeling, but he had a good idea. The tiniest flicker of concern passed across her face.

"Yes," she answered finally, her voice almost inaudible, "I think it might be best for her to see this immediately."

Ino stumbled to find terms – some words, any words – to process the situation, but they weren't coming easily. The laughing eyes… the slumped posture… everything down to the way he held his cigarette. There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was Asuma Sarutobi. Here.

How was he here?

"You're wondering how I'm here," Asuma said with a rumbling laugh, scratching at his dark beard. Smoke curled in thin wisps from the tip of his cigarette.

"Well, that's creepy," Ino mumbled. The comment was mostly for her own benefit, but a small part of her hoped Shikamaru could hear it, just so he might get some small idea of how thoroughly ridiculous his mind was.

"Yes, I was wondering that," she answered.

"Think about it, Ino," Asuma prodded, taking a drag. "You're a smart girl. Albeit a little boy-crazed…"

Ino let out a little huff of annoyance, reaching forward to smack his shoulder. The reflex was automatic, something she had done a thousand times over, every time Asuma-sensei teased her about Sasuke, or being late to practice because she had been putting on makeup.

But this time, her hand didn't connect. She was thrown a little off balance as her open palm passed straight through his arm, instead colliding with the floor.

The initial disconnect was a shock, but the more she thought about it, she realized it ought not to shock her.

He's just a projection.

"That was completely uncalled for," she said, giving him a contemptuous look.

The image of her sensei merely chuckled.

"Besides," Ino continued quietly, "I'd like to think I've got a better head on my shoulders now than I did back then."

Asuma's smile fell slightly. He cleared his throat, readjusting his cigarette.

"That's true. But that's also beside the point."

"Right," she said, cutting straight to the chase, "you're here because… well, because you're our sensei. You're probably the person Shikamaru most looks up to of anyone in the village."

She gestured at the board. "And you taught him how to play Shogi. Why wouldn't you be here?"

The last question came out a bit more sarcastically than she intended. Still, the more Ino thought about it, the less comfortable it made her. Staring at the face of her sensei before her, she wasn't certain exactly what she was talking to. A preserved memory of Asuma? Or some amalgam of memories, tied in with Shikamaru's subjective opinions of him? Either way, it wasn't as though she were back in training, having a casual conversation with her sensei. This was just another facet of Shikamaru's mind, as much as the game of Shogi or the mirrors or the cave of possibilities.

The realization pained her. It was so easy to slip back into old patterns, preserving the friendly, teasing rapport she had shared with her sensei in quiet moments. How many days had she longed to have just one more conversation with him, to seek his advice about any number of missions? Hell, she even wished she could have one more conversation about Sasuke with him, just to see him roll his eyes one more time.

But now was not the time for nostalgia.

"So why are you here?" She watched as he fiddled with his cigarette, his hand movements ghosts of the habits she knew so well. If this was merely a subjective projection, Shikamaru had constructed it pretty damn well.

"To help you out, apparently. Your teammate seems to think you need it."

"Oh, so you can communicate with my absent teammate, can you?" she said, a bitter bite to her tone. "Well, you can tell him that if his unreasonable brain weren't such a labyrinthine mess, I might not—"

Asuma – despite the fact that he was merely a projection, she couldn't think of him any other way – held up a hand to stop her, though his smirk seemed to suggest that he agreed with her.

"Doesn't quite work like that. It's… how do I describe it?" He rubbed his beard. "I'm just a cog in the machine of his brain. I can respond to you as an extension of your memories and his. And I can respond to him, insofar as he's capable of doing anything right at the moment…"

Ino jumped on that statement.

"So do you know what's happened to him?"

Asuma frowned, making an indistinct gesture.

"Once again, I don't really have a clear picture of the full problem. I only know things aren't working quite as they should. He's… lost. Not all there. Your being here is helping though. The pieces are clicking better."

Ino sighed. That wasn't anything close to an explanation. Lost? If he was lost in the depths of his own mind, how was she supposed to help him?

Still, she considered, it was nice to know that all of her efforts thus far hadn't been entirely in vain.

"And this?" Ino gestured at the finished game of Shogi in front of her. "He walked me through it. I know he did. And I won because of his help. But now what?"

"Think about it, Ino." Asuma shifted, sitting so that one of his elbows was resting on his knee. He looked at her searchingly. "What's missing here?"

"I…" she stared at the tiles. The smooth wood reflected an invisible light source, but they were just pieces. They revealed no secrets, no hidden symbols. On instinct, her mind kept running back to Asuma's last words, but they made no sense here. The king… children… How was thinking of Konoha's future supposed to help her move forward here?

"I don't know." She conceded, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "I just don't know. And I don't know why I even would. It's a wonder I've even made it this far. Shikamaru basically had to hold my hand through the Shogi game, so how does he expect me to solve this?"

Asuma opened his mouth to speak, but by that point, Ino was too distraught to notice. She lowered her head into her hands, shaking it back and forth.

"I'm not the genius. I never have been. I guarantee you, if my father had been alive, I would never even have been picked for this mission. I don't know what Tsunade and everyone else expect of me, but whatever it is, I can't do it. Clearly. I'm out of my depth."

She practically squeaked out the last syllable, her voice catching on the lump in her throat. The telltale stinging of her eyes meant tears probably weren't too far behind, though how on earth she was producing tears was still beyond her.

She chuckled wetly. Everything else on this miserable mission was beyond her understanding, so why shouldn't that be too?

"Ino."

Asuma's voice was so tender it was almost inaudible. While it ought to have been a comfort, that only made her want to cry harder. She could count on one hand the number of times he had been that gentle with her. For the most part, Asuma had been a strong advocate of the tough-love school of teaching, pushing his students to overcome their weaknesses through hard work. But every now and again, he had taken the softer approach.

Ino swallowed the lump in her throat, but didn't dare to look up, lest she let the tears escape. "What?"

"Tsunade picked you for this mission for a reason."

"Because I'm his teammate." She intoned, speaking the mantra she had been feeding herself over and over again every step of this journey.

"Because…" she choked on something that was half-laugh, half-sob, "because I know him."

"Because you do know him." Asuma reinforced. "And because you're the most capable shinobi in your field. Tsunade would never have assigned you to this if she did not have absolute trust in your abilities, Shikamaru's teammate or not. She knows that you are capable – and so does everyone else."

Ino closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to re-center herself. The idea that she was the best in her field seemed laughable, but now was not the time to let her insecurities get the better of her. When had she become so weak that she allowed one moment of difficulty to cripple her completely? This was not acceptable.

"Okay. Fine. Maybe she does think—"

"Know."

"—know I'm capable. And maybe everyone else in the village does too." Ino chuckled at the absurdity of the notion, but let the words slip out anyway. For now, she had to believe them. "But that doesn't mean that I'm a match for Shikamaru. You said it yourself, over and over again. Shikamaru's a mental giant. And I'm no slouch, but… I'm not a genius."

"You've put up with the boy for years longer than most people." Asuma smiled. "And the Ino I know could always hold her own against anyone, shinobi or not."

He cleared his throat, taking on a more serious tone. "

Besides, you are both essential to the survival of this village."

"Hmph." Ino snorted softly. "Right. Both of us have to protect the 'kings.'"

Absently, she shifted the remaining tiles on the board. A few across the top, then down… When she removed her hand, the character for "child" stared back at her, centered around the king.

"We can't protect anyone if we're both trapped here." She said resolutely, staring at the image. "We have to work together to get out of here. To carry on your legacy."

She smiled gently. "We're your legacy, after all. As much your children as anyone else."

"Exactly."

Ino's head perked up. She thought she'd heard the hint of something hopeful in his voice. It was confirmed by the broad grin that stretched across his face.

Across the table, Asuma reached out a scarred hand. For the briefest moment, Ino could have sworn she felt the touch of a hand on her cheek.

"No doubt about it." He laughed quietly. "I had the smartest bunch of students anyone could ask for."

The image was fading quickly, becoming more insubstantial by the second. Ino reached out a hand, even though she knew it was pointless. Asuma-sensei gave her one last smile before he melted away entirely.

A projection of Shikamaru's mind, she reminded herself.

Still, she couldn't stop a few tears from slipping out this time.

Once again, Ino found herself alone in the room. Giving one last glance to the shogi table and the place where Asuma-sensei had sat only moments earlier, she moved toward the wall of the room.

"Okay, Shika," she mumbled, "I'm going to have to trust you with this. I get it now. We're part of sensei's legacy, so we have to work together.

"I have to trust you. Like a child…" she grimaced, the irony not lost on her.

She placed her hands on the wall, slowly closing her eyes. In her mind's eye, she could see the room that Shikamaru kept the shogi board in, down to the last detail. A small room with a sliding door – very simple, nothing showy. She could almost feel the rice-paper screens, could feel the warmth of the sunlight filtering through them. If she just slid it aside…

Beneath her fingertips, the wall moved.

The flame burns steadily onward.

A/N: Wow, that was a long chapter. By my standards at least. Well, I did promise they were going to get longer, didn't I?

I'm amazed at the response to the last chapter, especially after I neglected the story for so long. You guys are amazing! Thanks to untouchable hexing witch, Guest, FFNRocks, little hina, feels, star's dreams, ShikaIno1, SunandMoon13ZK, disasterarea, shikainodoe, jyjackson1, Guest 2, SSSS, ygggdrasil, and jadedXelement for your kind words and support. You guys are awesome.

Hope you continue to enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!