In all their years, Shikamaru and Yuri had only spoken to each other four times. Not because they disliked one another or didn't get along- nor any other dramatic reason. The truth was, they never had to.
They lived in different circles; and some could say, different worlds altogether.
The first of the four times happened one windy day on the fourth of September. Their first day at the academy. Shikamaru had been awoken by his screaming mother too early in the morning. Force fed breakfast that he could barely taste in his bleary state- and then promptly pushed out the house with his startled father. His mother had shouted a farewell, mixed in with a warning and slammed the door shut.
'It's only seven,' Shikamaru muttered to his father.
Shikaku hummed in reply, zipping up his vest to fight against the biting wind of the September morning. 'School starts at half eight.' He continued.
His father looked down at his irritated expression and laughed. 'Your mothers excited about your first day.'
Shikamaru had grumbled bitterly, before sighing and resigning himself to his fate. Much to the amusement of his father.
The walk to the academy was nothing to remember, and after a quick goodbye to his father he went to find his classroom. Shikamaru had decided to catch up on the sleep that had been stolen from him inside. But first he would need to find the best seat to allow him such a luxury.
Upon entering the room he noted that not many students were present. Most of them preferring to stay outside with their parents or socialising with friends. Shikamaru didn't really have any friends outside of his clan, and sleep took precedent. His father had understood and was most definitely headed to his office to do the same.
The young boy surveyed the room and found the seat best suited to his needs. Focused solely on his task, Shikamaru stumbled up the stairs and sat heavily. Laying his arms on the table and resting his head on the appendages. It was only then that he noticed the white-haired girl sitting beside him. He had blinked in surprise at her presence, having not registered her before and frowned. The girl was practically vibrating in her seat in excitement, eyes taking in every inch of the room around them.
The frown deepened, apprehension building at the idea of sitting beside someone this eager to be in school. But the siren call of sleep was stronger than his hesitation. Besides, if she became too troublesome, he could always move. His eyes were getting too heavy for him to make the decision now.
Before he could do that though, the girl decided to speak up. "It's bigger than I thought it would be," she whispered to him- which he found a bit useless since they were only seven other people in the room. No one would be disturbed by her talking louder.
He considered ignoring her comment and pretending he hadn't heard her. But he grimaced when he met her eyes, that would be rude. Instead he went for a more neutral grunt that neither agreed nor disagreed with her observation. Something he'd seen his father use on his mother when she went on her tirades. She seemed to be encouraged by the noise as she brightened and gave him a happy smile.
"I was so excited last night I barely slept." She confided, her fingers drumming lightly on the table he rested his head on. "Mother wasn't too happy to see me awake in my room at five in the morning."
Shikamaru grumbled incoherently, feeling put off at what she was sharing, but sympathising in regard to their shared experience of irate mothers. "Mom dragged me out of bed and kicked me and dad out the house."
The girl gave him an empathetic smile, making him feel slightly less regretful about his seating choice. "Moms can be kind of terrifying, right"
"Very." He agreed.
"One time my mother yelled at me for so long she forgot why she was shouting in the first place and then blamed me for making her forget."
Shikamaru couldn't help but snort at that. He thought back to his own shout-happy mother and couldn't help but think that was something she would do as well. He lifted his head so it was resting on the palm of his hands instead of his arms. "My mom threw a pan at my dad because he forgot to say, 'I'm home' when he got back."
The girl giggled at that, making Shikamaru give his own smile. "Did it hit him?"
Shikamaru smirked at her intrigued expression. "Perfectly on the middle of his forehead."
His statement was met with laughter. "That's so scary."
All he could do was nod his head in agreement as he recalled his fathers startled expression and the bright red mark on the centre of his head. "Super scary."
"One time we were visiting a family friends for dinner and Father said her miso soup was the best he'd ever had. Mother only made him miso soup for weeks until one day he just started crying at the dinner table. To this day even the smell of Miso makes him flinch." The girl snickered, twirling strands of her long hair between two fingers.
Shikamaru nodded at the story, recalling how his mom had flushed all his dads hidden sake down the drain when he got home late once smelling of alcohol. When he told the girl about it, she laughed again.
"Do you think all mothers are that scary- or is it just ours?"
Shikamaru recalled his other aunties in the clan and how they would all gather together at family events and cackle. Noting how the men would always cast them uneasy looks every now and then when the laughter reached a higher decibel. "I think it's all of them." He sighed dejectedly.
The girl only snickered again. "I'm Yuri, by the way. Five years old." There was something strange in the way she said it, something that sounded vaguely amused. Shikamaru couldn't find anything funny with what she'd said so he ignored it.
"Shikamaru, also five." he returned, noticing the way her eyes widened before she gave him a smile that wasn't as real as the one she had given him since they'd met.
"Nice to meet you," she returned before turning to face the front, much to the boys confusion. Shikamaru went over the conversation they'd had in his head and was left puzzled by the sudden dismissal the girl had given him. He watched a moment longer to see if she would turn back around, but when she gave no indication, she would he lay his head on the table.
At least he could sleep now.
The second conversation, if it could even be called that, was even shorter. It was the after his first mission as a Chunin, when they had been sent out to rescue Sasuke from the sound four.
Only Sasuke hadn't wanted to be rescued, and everyone who had tried to do so had ended up wounded.
The day he realised what being a shinobi meant, and what was at stake if he didn't start pulling his weight around. He remembered sitting outside the operating room, head in his hands feeling as if the world had fallen onto his shoulders. And all he could do was pray- to whatever deity would listen- that his friend ( his best-friend who had placed his trust in Shikamaru and was now paying for it) would survive.
Because in that moment nothing mattered more, not the exhaustion that was slowly creeping into his muscles, or the many bleeding cuts decorating his body from his fight with the sound nin. All he could think about was Chouji, and Neji and Kiba and Naruto- the people he had failed. Who he had been trusted to lead, and who had ended up in the hospital with varying degrees of life-threatening injuries while he sat there with a broken finger and shaking muscles.
He hadn't let any of the medics treat him, not that many had offered, they were too busy trying to save his friends lives.
How could he ask someone to heal the cuts on his skin when his childhood friend was undergoing life threatening surgery.
How could he lay down to rest when his classmate was badly injured, with his ninkin in an even worse state.
How could he go home to change out of his battered attire when his fellow leaf shinobi was suffering extreme chakra exhaustion.
hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthisfault-
It felt like a pit was opening beneath him, and slowly pulling him deeper and deeper into his own personal despair. Because he was better than this, he could have-
he should have...
he was better than this.
If only he hadn't wasted so much time not taking the life choice he'd made seriously, maybe things would have ended differently. If only-
A nurse came out of the room Choji was in and for a second he could hear the rapid beeping, the shouted orders, the hurried movements, and then it closed and she rushed past- not even sparing him a glance. He allowed his face to sink into his dirty palms, and the weight on his shoulders increased once more.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there like that, long enough for his legs to grow numb. But when he heard the footsteps in the hallway, he ignored them- putting them down to being a passer-by or even the nurse from before returning. And when they left his assumption seemed to be accurate, until they returned once more.
"Shikamaru-san." A soft voice called almost soothingly.
A hand lightly rested on his tense shoulders, shaking it lightly.
It was a voice he was surprised to note he recognised, though not one he had heard in a while. A voice he would often hear murmuring answers to fellow classmates in lessons when the teacher picked on them, and apologising sheepishly when she was caught, and that would even occasionally tell scary stories to whoever was interested, which had surprisingly been many people, during lunch- when he decided to sleep at his desk.
Shikamaru hadn't seen Yuri since the day they graduated. He recalled that she hadn't been placed on a team but had instead decided to apprentice under a medical nin at the hospital. Hearing her voice jarred him out of the trance he'd fallen into and he looked up to meet concerned brown- eyes.
Yuri must have seen something in his own eyes because she held his gaze for a moment longer before sighing softly and sitting beside him on the bench. She had a first aid box on her lap and as he watched she began pulling out bandages, wipes and some cream. Without hesitating she lifted his right arms and began removing the dirt and blood off it with the wipes, hissing occasionally at the more vicious cuts. Once it was clean, she covered each one in a white cream and then bandaged them.
Shikamaru passively allowed her to repeat this process with his other arm and his face, feeling too tired and shocked to protest the help he was receiving from his ex-classmate. He simply watched her work, a small part of him grateful to be focusing on anything apart from the failure his first mission as a Chunin had been.
When she was done, she gathered up all the bloodied wipes and placed them in a hazard bag, sealing the top and disposing it into a nearby bin. For some reason he expected her to walk away after she'd done that. Afterall her reason for staying was no longer valid. He didn't expect her to remain or offer him any comfort- they hadn't been close. And her act of kindness just then was due to her medical nature, he had been injured so she, as a medic had healed him. That was all.
But despite his expectations, she returned to her previous seat and sat down. Hands clasped together tightly as she faced forward. Shikamaru, who was still half turned towards her, as he had been so she could bandage his face properly, couldn't help but notice the tense way she sat- back straight and eyes staring at the white wall, unblinking. Everything about her screamed uncomfortable in that moment and he felt compelled to speak up.
"You don't have to stay with me, I'm fine." He winced at the hoarseness of his voice and coughed discreetly to clear his dry throat.
Yuri broke her intense eye contact with the wall and glanced at him, brows furrowing briefly before she stood and nodded. "Right, okay." she stepped back from the bench, moving to walk down the corridor before she stopped and turned to him.
"He'll be okay," she said sounding so sure he almost believed her. "They'll all be okay so don't let the shadows beat you," her lips twitched into an awkward smile as she lightly ruffled his dishevelled hair. " You're a Nara after all."
Withdrawing her hand she bowed her head in farewell and walked hurriedly down the corridor and out of sight.
It was strange, as he watched the white head of hair disappear the weight that had been crushing his chest loosened, and the room no longer looked as dark.
He was a Nara after all, he couldn't let himself be overwhelmed by shadows.
Next time, he promised himself, (clinging to Yuri's parting assurance of his friends safety more desperately than he himself realised) next time it'll end differently.
When the sand shinobi later found him, he was no longer struggling against the shadows of despair and guilt- instead he burned brightly with a sense of determination.
People always said a motivated Nara was a dangerous thing.