Warning: I needed a little crack!fluff palette cleanser after last chapter. I'm sorry or You're welcome, respectively lol.
- Slumber Party -
When Shikamaru exits the shower room, he's immediately perturbed by the way his belongings have been carefully reorganized on the foot of his bed.
His travel pack, once dusty with sand and rust stains from River Country soil, has been carefully wiped down with a damp cloth so as not to stain the bright white bed sheets. All the straps and buckles have been readjusted and tucked in, making it suspiciously resemble the standard issue convoy-pack over on Utsuho's bed. His boots, having been previously discarded in a pile with Ruya's by the front door, have likewise been cleaned up. They now stand upright beside his bed, heels clicked together like an officer standing at attention.
Even his rumpled Chunin vest has been folded carefully beside his pack…
Utsuho is nowhere to be seen, but the fact that his own belongings are organized identically on the far left bunk tells Shikamaru exactly what has occurred.
He gives Ruya a questioning look. "Do I want to know?" He asks. He can't tell if Utsuho is being thoughtful or just plain passive aggressive.
Ruya just gives him a shrug and sinks deeper into his mountain of pillows. The dark haired man has been scrubbed to within an inch of his life, his cheeks glowing with some unknown jelly substance.
Ruya had been the first to claim the shower room the second they'd arrived at their shared suite. He'd been in there for nearly 2 hours before exiting in a billow of steam. When Shikamaru went to use the bathroom after him, he'd nearly tripped over a wayward jar of something labeled 'exfoliant' that had fallen from the tub.
"Captain's just always been picky about organization." Ruya says.
"I wonder why that is." Shikamaru replies sarcastically. He gestures to the pharmacy worth of skincare products on the nightstand. Utsuho's organization of his personal items suddenly makes a bit more sense.
He riffles through his travel pack, looking for a clean change of clothes. He half expects Utsuho to have re-sorted the inner contents as well, but thankfully everything inside seems to be as he'd left it. He's just slipping into a comfortable pair of black lounge pants when someone knocks aggressively at their door.
"Can you get that?" Shikamaru calls to Ruya, reaching deeper in his pack for a shirt. Where had all his clean clothes gone?
"I really can't." Ruya says in a sing-song voice. He was already tucked into his bunk, long hair tied back into a braid for sleeping. He gives Shikamaru a knowing smirk before pulling a satin sleep mask down over his eyes. The words 'Beauty Sleep in Progress' are embroidered in sloppy black stitching across the shiny fabric.
The pounding on the door grows even louder, and Shikamaru rolls his eyes in vexation. He shuffles over to door before who ever it was could break it down. Didn't they know how late it was?
"Kiwa probably got drunk and locked herself out of the room again." Ruya calls to his retreating form.
But when Shikamaru flings open the door, Kiwa is absent from the hallway. He does not expect to find an out of breath Sakura, her fist raised as if to knock a third time. She's dressed in pale blue formal robes, and her hair is pulled back into a flattering updo. He wonders if he's accidentally fallen asleep in the tub, if this is actually the beginning of some kind of wet dream-
Jesus christ, when did her eyes get to be so green?
It's here that Shika remembers he still doesn't have a shirt on, and his skin is still damp from his bath. The look of shock Sakura gives his current state of undress is…
Shit, maybe he really is dreaming, because for a second her eyes are downright appreciative. Then, as if coming to her senses, she schools her face into one of embarrassment. "Shika, really! Do you not own clothes!?" She growls, turning away in theatrical shock.
His damp hair falls loosely around his shoulders, and he's distantly aware of how low his pants sit on his hips. But despite all this, he can't seem to move. He's too busy staring at her to react with appropriate modesty.
If he is undressed in this moment, it's less about clothing and more about his gaze. He can't seem to conceal his appreciation of her, and it has very little to do with formal robes.
It takes each of them a moment to come back to their senses. He chooses to play off his embarrassment as sarcasm, leaning a shoulder into the door frame.
"Aren't you a doctor?" he asks slyly, "I thought you were desensitized to human bodies." It takes real effort to scrub the huskiness from his voice and play at the friendly tone they've always shared.
"Yes, but I'm not your doctor. Seriously, go put a shirt on."
He's about to ask her why she's blushing when she throws a curveball at him.
"Hitoshi is upstairs waiting for us."
He spins his memory down the list of acquaintance they share, and comes up empty-handed. "Who on earth is Hitoshi?" He asks, still not moving from his place in the doorway.
"How do you not know the Fire Daimyo's first name?" She asks, like this is suppose to be common knowledge.
He knows for a fact she did not know it herself until 5 hours ago, but he chooses to pick his battles. "How are you already on a first name basis with our Daimyo? Seriously Sakura, it's 11 at night. What is all this about?"
"Emergency strategy meeting upstairs." She says. "Hitoshi is waiting for us, Kankuro too. We just got back with the transcripts from the last summit meeting. We're going to spend the night looking through them, and we could use the extra set of eyes."
He knew it. He fucking knew it.
First, she'd convinced him to travel through bug infested countryside all the way into the far desert. Now she was recruiting him for midnight political maneuverings. This was why you don't develop feelings for your best friend.
"Sakura, you are a workaholic and I will not let you infect me with your disease." He says. Besides, there was no way the Daimyo was actually upstairs waiting for him. He was Shikamaru. He was a nobody.
"Like you said, I'm a doctor. I'll cure you after we're done." She grabs for his arm to pull him away.
"Nice try." He says, trying and failing to close the door in her face- even leaning his whole weight into the handle.
It requires only one chakra-infused fingertip for her to push the door back open again. He is simultaneously terrified and turned on by this.
"I'm serious, Shikamaru. Hitoshi is waiting for us." This time she steps into his space, fully prepared to bully him.
Now is not the best time to remember he is still shirtless. Her heart shaped face is closer than he's prepared to handle right now. His adam's apple bobs wildly in his throat, and he has to seriously fight back a blush at her proximity.
Thankfully, sarcasm is an ever reliable smoke screen and he throws it up now like the hail-mary it is. "Sure, yeah. Let me just put on my most formal mesh tank top and go meet the head of our country in the middle of the night."
Behind him, Ruya sits strait up in bed, an exasperated groan escaping his lips. "Emphasis on middle of the night. Can you two bicker outside, please?" He lifts up his eye mask, glaring daggers at them.
Beside him, Sakura takes in Ruya's obvious indulgence of the hotel amenities: Expensive pajamas, freshly scrubbed skin, satin sleeping-mask, pillows for days.
The sleeves of her robes brush against his bare chest as she stifles a giggle. He has to look away. The urge to kiss her carves itself squarely on his to-do list for the night. His brain is soup. Clearly, he needs help.
Shikamaru can not keep standing here, inches away from the girl of his dreams.
With a huff, he walks back to his bunk and pulls on the first clean shirt he can find. He grabs his boots and the room key too, flicking off the lights as he hurries out of the suite. Ruya calls a thank-you as he shuts the door, content to return to his luxurious cocoon.
Once they are finally out in the hallway, Shika shoves on his shoes and pulls his wet hair back. He focuses intently on any little movement that doesn't involve kissing his oblivious best friend. Soon, they are walking together down the hallway. At least now they are on the move.
'Get yourself together.' He admonishes himself.
The walking seems to help a bit. Standing still around Sakura seems to be the root of all his problems. It's not enough activity to distract his stupid genius brain from obsessing over her rosebud mouth.
"Is this a trick to get back at me for the Daimyo Dinner?" He asks, trying to redirect his thoughts. "Because all I did was mention the idea to Gaara in passing before we parted ways today. I didn't even know you'd actually gone until Kiwa told us all over dinner."
Sakura crosses her arms in a huff. "Trust me, when I do get back at you for this hell of a night, my retaliation will be swift and unexpected."
But then a softness crosses her face, like she's remembered something that has upset her. "Actually, before we go upstairs…I need to talk to you about something important."
It's like jumping from a sauna into freezing water, her shift from sarcasm to this sudden vulnerability. Her voice is shy and tender in a way he doesn't often hear from her. He stops in his tracks, turning to give her his full attention.
"I…I didn't consider your recent breakup when asking you to come here with me. It was an unforgivable lapse in judgement on my part, and an incredibly selfish ask. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling right now. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to ask you how you're handling being here, but I'm here if you need to talk about it." Sakura says all this in a single rush of breath. Her words wash over him like a dousing shower.
All the built up heat in his mind is extinguished in the face of this very real conversation. The emotional reversal is uncomfortably jarring, but simultaneously he's grateful for the detour.
He'd expected her to bring this up eventually. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon. He decides to take a risk and answer her from the heart, because she seems to be speaking from hers.
"That wasn't something you needed to consider." He says, reaching out and taking her hands in his. He doesn't know where the courage to do so comes from, but he's reassured when she squeezes his fingers.
"And I would hardly call you selfish either. This project might be your baby, but it's going to help a lot of people. As ninja…so much of our lives revolve around training to be dangerous. It's nice to be reminded I have more to offer than just pushing papers or taking a life."
Sakura is quiet for an endless moment. "Even if it means reading tiny print?" She asks.
"Even then, you psychopath."
It appears Sakura's used up all her words for once. She opens her mouth to say something, but what ever it is, the thought eludes her.
Nervously, he begins to babble. His voice is a low whisper meant just for the two of them. "I was honest when I told Gaara I'm here to serve a worthy cause. But, I wasn't just talking about your project. You said you needed me, and you did. So I came. You always show up for the people who need you, Sakura. Eventually, someone's got to show up for you."
And in the act of saying the words, he realizes they have become his truth. He respects the person she is on the inside. The girl who would drive herself into the ground to help the people she cares about. But who was taking care of her?
"I… I don't know what to say." She stammers.
Belatedly, he realizes he's still holding her hands. He's slowly been pulling her into his space. Her fingers are embers in his palm. He wonders what he could do with that heat…
He doesn't know whether she's stepped in closer, or if he's the one who's stepped into her. There is no Suna, there is no hallways. There is only her body and his, and the scant half meter left between them. Her long lashes flutter once. Twice. He knows he's staring openly at her but can't bring himself to stop. His world narrows in to cradle just the two of them. He leans in to make it even smaller…
"I need you to know that I'm grateful, Shikamaru." His name in her mouth is charged electricity, jumping from her skin to dance across his. "I'll never be able to say just how grateful I am for coming all the way here with me. You're…" She stumbles over the right words here. "You're truly my best friend."
Friend.
The word is a thousand paper cuts, and one big knife to the heart. Because Shikamaru might hate change, but he doesn't think he can live anymore with just being her friend. Not tonight, not ever. He wants to kiss the word clean from her mouth. He wants to make her to say his name again…
The revolving carousel of things he wants to confess to her is starting to spin out of his control. He knows he's going to have to do something about is soon, to either share his words or kill them forever.
But tonight is not that night. She's not ready for things to change between them yet, regardless of whether or not he is.
He lets go of her fingers and stuffs his hands into his pockets. It's agony to keep from touching her again.
She turns away in a flustered rush, pretending to check the hallway map to figure out how much farther they have to go.
"Come on, take me to this imaginary Daimyo." He says quietly. The unnameable yearning in his chest grows from an ember to a fire. He follows her retreating form to the elevator, knowing someday it will burn him alive.
- 3 AM -
In the end, a dozen boxes of transcripts and three cups of coffee is just the thing Shikamaru needs to get out of his own head. It's hard to be overwhelmed by overwhelming feelings when you're sleep deprived and reading about boring political bickerings.
After arriving at the Daimyo's penthouse, the night had moved quickly from introductions to instructions to midnight scouring of Summit transcripts. It had been another hour before they'd finally found the right box of transcript papers. Each of them (even Hitoshi) were now surrounded by loose sheets of paper dictating arguments between River and the other Daimyo.
They were looking for a proposal River's General had wanted passed that was eventually rejected by all 5 Daimyo. Sakura insists that circumstances have changed, that River might consider sponsoring her bill in exchange for the passing of a previously rejected one.
Technically this was reciprocal bribery... but that was how things seemed to get done at this level.
Sakura's hail-mary hinged on subtext that could only be found in the official transcripts. Vague memories of what was or wasn't said wouldn't do them any good. When they'd finally found the specific pages Sakura was looking for, Shikamaru's puzzle-hungry brain instantly saw how the two unrelated bills could fit together.
Sakura had been right. He was built for this sort of thing.
Their party of 4 had huddled late into the night, discussing the far reaching consequences of the changes they were considering. Ultimately, it was up to Hitoshi to decide if he was willing to accept River's previously rejected bill.
"It's something I think my father would have hated. That's why I'm going to support it." Hitoshi said.
Shikamaru watches Sakura beam at Hitoshi. Okay, maybe his head wasn't entirely clear…
After that, Hitoshi and Shikamaru talk through further details, drafting up a formal endorsement of River's old bill. But it isn't until his fourth cup of coffee that Shikamaru really hits his stride. An idea for subsidiary funding springs up from the back of his brain. Sakura is thrilled when he suggests the idea.
The Daimyo eyes Shikamaru with growing consideration the longer the night drags on.
"You seem to be full of surprises." Hitoshi says, unexpected pride in his voice. At this time of night, Shikamaru is too exhausted to be flattered. All he wants is water and sleep.
"We'll take this endorsement back to Gaara to approve and sign." Kankuro says, helping Sakura up from her nest of transcript papers. Everyone looks haggard and thoroughly exhausted. Everyone except for Sakura and Hitoshi, that is. Apparently, the man had been a lawyer before becoming Daimyo. Like Sakura's hospital night shifts, this made Hitoshi immune to brutal all-nighters.
Sakura and Kankuro leave in a hurry, and Shikamaru can't help but watch them go. What's worse, he can feel Hitoshi watching him watch her go, but he can't muster up the energy to care.
He expects the knowing look Hitoshi gives him when he turns back from their retreating form. But he doesn't expect the series of leading questions his Daimyo asks after. The man must have been a hell of a lawyer…
"So, what exactly do you do in Konoha?" Hitoshi asks with a grin. He seems to hum with regal energy, everything he does is charismatic.
"I push paperwork for the Chunin exam office. It's not glamorous, but it pays well enough and I rarely have to work overtime." Shikamaru's voice is sore and raspy from hours of animated talking. Hitoshi gestures to a nearby servant, and a blissfully cold drink is pushed into his hands. Iced lemonade with a touch of mint.
"Sounds to me like your talents are wildly underutilized. Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer?"
Shikamaru drains his glass, then stares at Hitoshi blankly. Clearly, this guy doesn't know who he is, or just what he's about.
"I'm not what you would call highly motivated. I'm aiming more for early retirement than a secondary career path."
"And yet, you're here in a foreign country helping your Daimyo draft a 3am funding proposal. Sounds pretty motivated to me."
Shikamaru can hear the unspoken question beneath the statement. The thing underneath the underneath. Daimyo or not, Shikamaru doesn't like people prying into his business. But he can also tell the question is meant in good nature. He debates whether or not to open up to this man who, for all intents, is a perfect stranger.
"I wouldn't be here if not for Sakura." He finds himself saying. "If you haven't noticed, she's pretty hard to say no to."
Hitoshi gives him a knowing look. "Girls like her so often are. In my experience, it doesn't get easier, either. It can be quite…"
"Troublesome?" Shikamaru offers.
Here, Hitoshi grins again. Shikamaru has never known a politician to be so sincere.
"I was going to say rewarding, but yes. That too. But sometimes we need people in our lives who ask more of us than we ask of ourselves. Not an employer, per say, but people who love us enough to challenge us."
Something about this statement makes him swallow hard. "I generally try to avoid being challenged. It doesn't usually end well for me."
"That's a shame," Hitoshi says, his tone dangerously neutral. "Because I would hire you in an instant if you asked me for a job. The endorsement you just drafted is a diplomatic work of art. It seems you can do a lot when you're highly motivated."
"I did nothing…" Shikamaru deflects. He's so used to being admonished for not trying hard enough. For being too lazy and unmotivated. It's strange to be praised outright like this. "This was all Sakura's hard work. And yours too, really. We're only here because you believe in her dream. I remember the day she sent her proposal to you. She was a total mess…" He knew he was babbling. He's always babbling.
"I married someone just like her, you know." Hitoshi's eyes grow misty with affection.
"Then you're lucky to have have her." Shikamaru says, realizing he means it.
"Yes. I was."
Shikamaru realizes his mistake a moment too late. His tired smile quickly slips from his face. He isn't sure what to say, so he settles for a simple, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"My wife and I didn't have as much time together as we should have. We were friends for a long time, and that was safe. But I didn't want to risk rejection or lose the good thing we already had."
Hitoshi's voice is gruff, but the meaning behind his words is clear. Shikamaru looks down. Up. Anywhere else except directly at him. It's one thing to feel complicated things for Sakura on his own, another to have those feelings recognized by a stranger.
"Was it worth it?" Shikamaru asks.
"Every beautiful second of it. Thankfully, we overcame our obstacles in time to have our love at the end…but I wish every day that we'd had it from the start, too. Take it from me, that girl is special. I know you see yourself as the Plan guy…but don't wait too long to follow through."
"I-"
Shikamaru's words are cut off by footsteps running down the hall. Sakura rushes back into the room, an exhausted, relieved smile on her face. Kankuro is nowhere to be found, but apparently this heralds good news.
"Gaara has agreed to endorse the bill with us." She says. "He's going to take it to the Wind Daimyo first thing in the morning."
"It technically is morning." Hitoshi says, checking the hour with bleary eyes. "You still have enough time to get some sleep, we won't get to your proposal until later in the day. Both of you go rest while you can. And Sakura, be ready for anything."
Shikamaru and Sakura say their goodbyes. Sakura is thankfully oblivious to the pointed look Hitoshi gives Shikamaru as they go. Together the walk back to their respective rooms, passing the time in exhausted silence.
Shikamaru gives her a small wave at her door, making sure she's safely inside before walking down the hallway to his own. He pushes the door open as quietly as he can. He cant even muster up the energy to remove his shoes before passing out atop his bunk. He falls asleep without even pulling back the covers.
His brain clings sleepily to everything Hitoshi said.
- Authors note -
Fun fact: Ruya's 'Beauty sleep in progress' mask was hand stitched by Kiwa. She made it for him as a Birthday gag gift to tease him about his vanity. He started bringing it on missions, just to spite her. Despite his insistence, she refuses to pay 'good money' for that skincare stuff. She says paying for a mud mask is the biggest con ever invented, and she could use her Jutsu to make one for free.
Utsuho is stoically neutral on the subject.
XOXO - VB