A/N: I lost the file of my chapter 12 and ended up writing this instead.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto. However, the OCs do belong to me.

Iridescent One-shot: A Little Life

Set 19 years after Shikamaru's transmigration.

A parody, of sort, if everyone were softer. Featuring always-a-female Shikamaru.

Hokage's Office

"Forget whatever it is that you are thinking." Shikamaru's firm voice broke Tobirama out of his reverie.

Tobirama turned his head. "Pardon?"

Shikamaru glanced at Tobirama from the corner of her eyes, eyeing the taut muscles of his shoulder for a moment, and slowly put her finished paperwork on her, well his, desk before grabbing a stack of unchecked sheets on her left, one that contained a treaty draft for her upcoming diplomatic mission.

"When you're being quiet, it's usually either because you're plotting or worrying about something. Judging from your muscle tension, it's the latter." Shikamaru admitted. "That, and the fact that you've been standing there for a good five minutes, staring at me."

Tobirama grimaced. "We need to talk."

Shikamaru stared at him. Her eyes were impassive, as always, showing neither pity nor understanding. "We are talking."

The man crossed his arms. "Kami, could you please not—"

"What now? Have I misspoken, perhaps used an ambiguously hostile inflections or shown improper conduct? Did I breathe too loud?" Shikamaru closed her eyes and sighed in self-disgust. "No, I apologize, that was petty of me. Just… tell me how I may help you, Hokage-sama?"

"Shika, are you alright?" Tobirama asked, his tone was light and nonchalant — a perfect imitation of an innocent question — but the question itself carried a lot of baggage, baggage that Shikamaru would prefer to ignore.

Was she alright? Let's see, currently she had to handle Konoha — a young village, still in its infancy, it would take at least another five years before she would consider it to be stable; she had to watch over Madara, paying attention to his ever-changing moods and signs of diminishing patriotism; she had to train the newly formed bureaucrats to handle taxes, homeland security, immigration, foreign affairs, education, and the implementation of public policies; she had to stabilize and maintain the village's power balance and handle the lobbying and public relation and make sure nobody fucked up their jobs, and that included Tobirama. Everything he doubled-checked, she triple-checked it. Her former disciple was a competent man, sure, but old habits die hard.

All in all, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Yes, Hokage-sama. Have I done anything that might indicate otherwise?"

"You've lost weight," the man blurted out.

It was nothing that could not be easily remedied. She did feel somewhat debilitated but she was still conscious and breathing; ergo, work. "I'll gain them back. Anything else?"

"Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room?"

Shikamaru paused her scribbling. "If you are insinuating that my weight loss has anything to do with your upcoming nuptials then I would seriously hurt you, consequences be damned, Hokage-sama."

Tobirama gripped his hair — a gesture that Shikamaru remembered he used to exhibit when he was still a child during a particularly stressful situation. He then started pacing around, as if he wanted nothing more than to leave her presence, before deciding against it at the last minute and laid down on the couch instead, with his hand obscuring his eyes.

"Shikamaru, you are… a bold and stubborn person, very strict and imperative. You have a pragmatic approach to life and will not be hindered by emotion or petty notions in making your decision. You're so… good at everything and I love that about you."

Shikamaru braced herself for the oncoming 'but' and circled a typographical error on the paper.

"You don't show it outwardly, but the constant anxiety and the need to be in control are eating you alive. At this rate you will actually die of worry and burn yourself out, and then you won't be able to perform at your best, which I am well aware just how much you hate. You need to stop worrying about every little thing before they take control of your emotions and thoughts. It's unhealthy, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru heaved a sigh and walked towards her lo— friend, no, leader, whatever. She nudged his knee aside and sat at the edge of the seat. Comforting heat radiated off of him and Shikamaru couldn't help but shift closer.

"These last two years have been quite hectic and we haven't really seen each other... informally, at least. I was, am busy and so many things were happening in such a short amount of time and then that stuff with the Uzumaki and then you… you left me… and although I promise that nothing will change, I become even more cold and emotionally distant and I…"

I love you, you stupid, stupid man.

Shikamaru squeezed the edge of the couch, wondering why she could never be enough.

"I don't know what you expect of me, but if you are worried for me, don't be. I know I don't seem like much, but damn it you troublesome man, I'm not stupid enough to work myself to death. Who's going to help you deal with all of this mess if I'm not around? You are my friend, Tobirama, always, and nothing will ever change that. Stop worrying about me, will you? It won't help me and it certainly won't help you. You have a new life ahead of you, so don't waste your time by thinking about me." Shikamaru said bluntly.

By the end of Shikamaru's admission, Tobirama's eyes had widened considerably. Hurt, relief, but also undeniable longing were reflected on his red eyes.

Tobirama sat up on the couch and tentatively, his hand reached out for hers. He ran his thumb over her knuckles. It was smudged and calloused and so… cold, but alive and definitely hers. "I hurt you... Can we truly be friends again, Shika?"

Could they remain together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, by their mutual dedication to this… bond that could never be defined. He wanted to witness her hour of grief and bereavement, her bouts of boredom, her well-deserved triumphs. He wanted the privilege of being present during her lowest moments, knowing that she would also be there for him in return. He wanted to constantly be in her presence, even if it meant just basking in her silence, watching her as she worked, napped or gazed into the sky, watching the clouds drifted by.

Shikamaru stared blankly at Tobirama, not sure why the man was asking something that had already been obvious.

Sure, the people he had grown to trust might someday betray him somehow, and he would also betray someone else in return. As disappointing as it might be, it was inevitable. But life would keep pushing him forward, because for everyone who might fail him in some way, there was at least one person who never would, and Shikamaru vowed she would be that person.

Using her free hand, Shikamaru brushed the man's stray hair, so soft under her fingers. Her hand lingered for a moment over the rhombus mark on his forehead, and she gently poked it.

"Always," she promised. "It doesn't matter if it's right or wrong, in this life or the next one, you're stuck with me, Senju."

Tobirama stared back at Shikamaru. Smiling, hopeless in the face of her unwavering kindness. In the back of his mind he thought he must've looked stupid, but... Feeling impulsive, Tobirama wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Your ribs are poking out."

Shikamaru's lips contorted into a smirk.

"Honestly, I would rather nap than eat. It's so troublesome. I mean, you have to put it in your mouth, chew it, swallow it and digest it and then shit it back again. So much work, don't you think?"

Tobirama rolled his eyes in amusement, but even he could not stop the upturned corner of his lips.

"Only you, Shika. Only you."

"I'm one of a kind, duh."

"You are." He pressed a fleeting kiss against her neck, breathing in her familiar scent. "I miss you so much."

He could feel the woman sighed.

"Friends don't do this, Hokage-sama."

There she was, distancing and masking herself behind etiquette and honorifics. Again.

"Nobody has to know," he whispered.

Knowing that he would be haunted by the 'what ifs' if he didn't at least try, Tobirama leaned closer and hovered, waiting for Shikamaru to walk away, to tell him to stop.

He looked into her unreadable eyes — because even after all these years he could never tell what she was thinking — and closed the distance between them. It was just a peck on the lips, but the look in his eyes revealed all his want and need and fear.

Shikamaru pressed their foreheads together and caressed his warm cheeks, she couldn't help it. She traced his lips with her thumb. Tobirama closed his eyes, waiting, hoping. She traced his sharp jawline, tucking his slightly disheveled hair to its proper places — combing it exactly like how he liked it, before descending to his taut neck. Under her fingers, the Hokage held his breath, waiting.

Waiting.

Yet nothing happened.

A strong shinobi doesn't give in to temptation, no matter how easy and willing it is.

Shikamaru pursed her lips together.

This would be for the best.

She hugged him close, committing his form, his warmth, his scent into her memory, and kissed his forehead — for one last time, she told herself — before standing up, whispering,

"I'm sorry, Hokage-sama. I can't."

September 22nd

Today was Konoha's first official festival with all of its future clans integrated. The Kohaku Clan's leader was the last to sign the peace treaty, brokered by Shikamaru as the head of Konoha's delegation.

One less thing to worry about.

In every shinobi village, festivals were held rarely, if ever, but when they did they were just as lively as those held in the capitals, if not more. Paper lanterns decorated every road and corner. Everyone wore colourful kimono and yukata instead of their everyday dull shinobi uniform. The women, especially, donned their best attire and put their hair into beautiful, but still practical, styles or updo, much to the joy of those who praised Konoha's women's modest, authentic beauty.

And that included Shikamaru, much to her companion's chagrin.

Madara elbowed the woman. "Oi, stop behaving like such a damn pervert. It's unbecoming of you, Counsellor-sama."

Shikamaru grabbed the offending appendage and linked their arms together; waving at a group of young, blushing chūnin while she's at it. "I'm not giving them inappropriate looks, if that's what you're thinking. I'm just admiring those gorgeous fabrics. I mean, I'm pretty gifted at sewing, maybe I should try my luck as a professional seamstress."

Not that she would actually do the sewing herself. Why would she burden herself with menial tasks when she could slave her clones instead?

Thanks, Tobirama.

"Seamstress…" the man grumbled. "Last week you wanted to be a baker, and a blacksmith the week before that. What's this? A midlife crisis?"

"Well, you can't deny that everyone is dressed nicely for the occasion. Even you look positively dazzling, Madara-san."

Understandably so, they were not only dressed for the festival, they were also celebrating their Hokage and the Uzumaki's princess' union. Both of their families chose an already festive occasion so not to draw attention, not that it really worked. Security was at an all time high and the whines and moans of those unfortunate enough to lose the lottery and stuck in guard duty were loud enough to be heard all the way into heaven, much to Shikamaru's amusement.

"Flattery will get you nowhere and it certainly won't ever get you out of guard duty. Not on my watch, Nara."

A feminine laughter filled the air.

"I'm serious though, for once you don't actually look like a grumpy cat, ah no, grumpy hedgehog." Shikamaru deftly avoided a kick aimed at her shin. "Those red embroideries on your sleeves are classy, but modest. The ribbon on your nape makes you look more friendly and the haori is a really nice touch. I wonder who's the lucky person that dressed you up. They must've been very stylish."

Madara harrumphed. "These articles of clothing are… adequate."

Shikamaru coughed. "Sophisticated."

"Barely passable."

"Debonair, Uchiha-sama."

"Tch, utterly unexceptional. Not enough to be an embarrassment, but not something that really stands out either."

The black-haired woman gaped. "Ouch, Madara-san. Ouch."

"If it's any consolation, I do not detest it. It couldn't be uglier than whatever the Senju wear."

"I've constructed formal attire for the groom, so he shouldn't be wearing that hideous green kimono and yellow haori." Shikamaru smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "At least I hope so. Kami knows his family has little to no fashion sense. Mito-san deserves the best on her wedding day."

Madara sighed, sensing the changing mood. "You don't have to force yourself to go, you know."

"But I do. Why do you think I even bother with dolling you up when you're more violent and troublesome than Tori the Cat?"

In addition to patrolling the area, visibly or in hiding, a few guards — namely those with higher ranks — were tasked to take part in social events, to keep a closer eye on the guests and to make sure that there was no international incident. Madara Uchiha, in particular, had a fearsome and infamous reputation. His attendance in meetings and social gatherings usually made their guests be more amenable to… behave.

"Because you're a horrible ex?" Madara deadpanned.

Shikamaru glared at the jab, her fingers twitched as she resisted the urge to choke the man.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Uchiha. The Fire Daimyō sent an envoy and his wife, as did those newly formed hidden villages. We are their primary example in the implementation of the shinobi village system, thus we need to appear strong and united, absolutely no dissension in the ranks, now more than ever. We need to show everyone that we are not simply impending the inevitable, that this village will work, and that we are 100% committed to everlasting peace."

"You don't need to worry too much. We have competent shinobi guarding the parameters. Konoha is not going to implode just because you have fun for one night." Madara nudged her side. "You need to put more faith in your comrades, Nara."

Shikamaru felt her brows rose, and slowly smiled. "Those therapy sessions really work, huh? Told ya, they would be good for you."

"It's not like I have that much choice since you make counseling a mandatory program. But they are… alright, I suppose. Help me to process things with healthier mechanisms. I didn't realize how much I was hurting."

"That's good." The woman nodded, her gaze faraway. "Really good. You don't want to know half of the things that I have to do to push that program into a law."

Madara snorted, having heard tales of his friend's unorthodox, oftentimes unbelievable, lobbying methods.

"I understand that it's a foreign concept, but… I think we all need to talk to someone. The Warring States period left big scars on all of us. We have killed brothers, fathers, sisters, families… of what now become our neighbors. There's bad blood between all of us and if we want to make this village work, we all need to learn to forgive. More than that… I also want to foster inter-clans friendships, for everyone to find another person who makes their world seem a little less lonely."

Madara stole a glance at the woman. Her shoulder-length hair was down today, the bangs pulled into a simple, tied-back style, making her look older and dignified. Her dark, sharp eyes were unreadable, hiding her thoughts and feelings. She was oddly terrifying, but also so… distant at the same time.

"I don't think anyone ever gives you enough credit, Shikari-san. When they see this village, they see Tobirama and his visions, sometimes me, but rarely you, even though you are the one that works yourself to the bone. It should have been you that lead this village. You are logical, impartial, but surprisingly kind. You are... worthy."

Shikamaru laughed, genuinely amused. "I'm flattered that you hold me with such a high regard, Madara-san, but I'm afraid I would have to disappoint. I might preach about a grand, marvelous plan for the future, but deep down I am simply living off of someone else's dream."

Madara tilted his head curiously.

"I dedicated myself to this cause, every second of my life, because I couldn't bring myself to look away, because I feel accountable towards those that have passed before me. I thought that if I tried hard enough, someday I would be able to absolve myself of this guilt. Sometimes I just want to slit my throat and die. Other times I wish I would sleep forever and never wake up again."

Shikamaru paused.

"But dying... dying is always easy, it's staying alive that is so damn hard. I want to experience the results of our hard work too. I want to see this dream becoming reality." The woman shrugged, and under the full moon she looked almost… tranquil. "Perhaps then I would finally be at peace with myself."

Be at peace for being the only one who survives.

Madara stared into the distance as her words invoked a memory from a long time ago, a memory of their first meeting. Him, a naive boy with a dream; her, a jaded, cynical soldier.

I want peace, and I know that deep down they want it too. They just don't want to be disappointed.

That's why you are here. To change our mind, to convince us that peace isn't just a fool's dream. To show us that there's another way to live – that we too, deserve happiness.

Tentatively, the Uchiha wrapped his arm around the woman's shoulders. The grip was light, compassionate, but no less reassuring.

"Shikari-san, just a quick reminder, if a politician's career ever tires you, I'm always willing to take you in as an apprentice. I know a place high up in the mountain, with vast grassland and aquifers. It's very relaxing."

Shikamaru groaned. "Your apprentice? Imagine the sheer amount of workload. Being unremarkable suits me just fine, thank you. And please tell me you were not referring to Mountain's Graveyard, the no man's land located in the north-most region near the Land of Waterfall…?"

"Lazy bastard," Madara muttered fondly, his mismatched eyes filled with mirth. "And it's a perfectly acceptable place, mind you! If slightly… eccentric. Those who say otherwise are simply unable to appreciate its unique aesthetic."

The time-traveler squeezed the hand on her shoulder and deadpanned, "Exactly. I'm too old and not drunk enough to destroy priceless fossils and a possible paleontology site just because I hate my life and/or experiencing extreme boredom, and neither should you."

"Too old, she said. Not drunk enough, she said," he mocked. "What are you, fourteen?"

Shikamaru rolled her eyes. "Excuse you, I'm turning nineteen today. I'm practically ancient by our standard."

"Would you look at that, they actually get married on your birthday. No wonder you're so prissy today. I've always known that Senju and his kin are a right bastard. You ought to find better companies, Nara."

"Despite what everyone thinks, I'm not actually fragile and am doing better than ever, Uchiha. On another note, no hate speech is allowed today. I implore you, Madara-san, just pretend that you're going to your father's wedding."

"I already did that twice, if you must know. The first time was while I was in my mother's womb. Actually, I also slept through the second one." He heard the woman snort. "Weddings are overrated anyway."

Shikamaru nodded sagely. "True that, Madara-san. The only good thing about weddings are the free food and alcohol."

Madara halted his steps. Shikamaru followed suit.

They shared a look.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Nara?"

Shikamaru blinked innocently.

"Once we have greeted and spied on all the guests and delegations, I don't see any reason why we couldn't simply leave our clones and… misplace a few jugs of sake. I'm sure nobody would miss them."

Madara hummed. "True. We could invite along those who are also stuck on guard duties. Once they've finished their shifts, of course."

"We can add a couple musicians—"

"Some fireworks—"

"Roasted meat—"

"And pipes. Never forget the pipes—"

"Then we'll have one hell of a party."

They both smirked, and slowly grinned.

As it was, being the person that brokered almost all of the village's contracts and agreements had made Shikamaru become one of the most highly searched women during social gatherings, and the Hokage's wedding is no different. Everyone and their mother have their own special interests to get across, and Shikamaru was their go-to person.

Madara, the traitor, had secured and escaped with their objectives — namely food, booze, and a couple smoking pipes that she had pickpocketed from the Daimyō's envoy — leaving a clone to keep the guests in check in his stead.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, had not been able to find an opportunity to escape because Tobirama, the bastard, kept on sending people on her way, and they all offered her a drink. Not that it was a bad thing. Drunk Shikamaru was a charming and suave woman, and she managed to secure a few deals and meetings along the night.

That was almost two hours ago.

Shikamaru had left the feast after paying homage to the new couple. She had given them both a matching tantō blade, a private joke on her part since they both had a matching byakugō seal. Tobirama then, whom she had not seen in person for two weeks, decked in her clone-sewn clothes, had given her a seated saikeirei, a deeply reverent bow to convey profound respect or regret, and Mito-san had followed suit, drawing attention to Shikamaru, as the bow was almost entirely reserved for dramatic apologies or audiences with their nonexistent emperor. The Hokage wouldn't even bow to the Daimyō or his in-laws, but here he was, bowing to her.

And Shikamaru was… she was oddly touched.

Before her unwanted feelings could resurface, she had given them both a respectful nod and walked away. Not wanting to be disturbed by anyone, Shikamaru had ducked into a corner and took brisk steps outside before flickering out of sight. She then continued walking aimlessly, just as long she didn't crash into a tree or some random buildings. She even suppressed her chakra for extra measure.

There.

They wouldn't know where she was. They wouldn't follow her. She was out of sight.

That was all that mattered.

Inebriated, Shikamaru followed the sounds of nature, the hooting of owls and the rushing of a river nearby. Unlike the center of the village, there were no lanterns and no people to be seen.

It was colder too.

In the back of her mind, Shikamaru was vaguely aware of the extent of her drunkness. Her hands shook ever so slightly and her feet tingled. Her vision was disfigured, as if she were looking through a fish-eye lens.

Shikamaru continued to hobble forward, getting closer to the edge of the river.

She was so removed from reality that she didn't realize that she was crying, she wasn't even sure why, or why she was relieving details from moments long gone.

Temari…

You're strange, such unexpected fragility. Sacrifice is inevitable, you crybaby.

Ino…

It's not a matter of can or can't, Shikamaru. I'm doing it!

Chōji…

I hereby swear that, in order to protect both the Yamanaka and the Nara clans and to protect Konoha, I, Chōji Akimichi, will now come forth from my chrysalis and as a butterfly — spread my wings!

Her father… Shikaku.

We do what we have to do until the end, it's our last job. If your companions are really important to you… before you think about running away, consider that you may become greater for the sake of your friends!

Legends from the distant past are always exaggerated, but eventually, someone outdoes them… that's when new legends are born!

Her teacher… Asuma.

Shikamaru, you're so smart and have great sense as a shinobi. You could definitely become Hokage. But… you're too lazy. You'd probably hate it. I never even beat you once at shōgi... Ah, yes… Remember our talk about the King?

The Kings are the unborn children who will grow up to take care of the leaf. Take care of my King, Shikamaru…

And of course, Naruto...

Changing the things before us, a little by little, even one thing at a time, will make the world a better place. I want Konohagakure to be a place where people smile and enjoy their lives. Will you lend me your strength? Let's change Konohagakure together!

Shikamaru collapsed at the edge of the ravine and cried harder, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat.

And she cried and cried, cried for everything she had been, for everything she might have been, for every joy and tears, for every shame and insecurities, for every hardship, failure and achievement, for the privilege of knowing and loving her comrades, for the luxury of kindness and forgiveness, and at last for the reassurance that despite all of her mistakes and hatefulness, she was still entrusted with everyone's dreams.

"Father, Mother, Chōji, Ino, Asuma-sensei… everyone… It's been nineteen years since we've parted. I haven't really done much, but I promise I will keep on making progress. Ino, I dated the Nidaime and got dumped, but that's alright, we can still scratch 'dating a Kage' from your bucket-list. The bad news is I might actually become the next Hokage, so don't laugh at me, Asuma. For some reason I've grown to enjoy paperwork now, it's oddly relaxing. Maybe because it's repetitive… Don't tell anyone, Father. I don't want them to give me even more troublesome jobs.

"I've also grown stronger, Chōji, not that it matters much when there's someone like Madara around, but I will do my best to protect the Nara, Yamanaka, Akimichi and Konoha for you until you are born. It's funny how I've become so busy these days, sometimes I almost forget to take care of myself. I'm sorry I don't eat regularly, Mother. I will forever miss your cooking.

"As for everyone… I know I'm not the most ideal person to carry this burden, but the thought of every single one of you always keeps me going. It might take me more than a lifetime, but I will give you the Konoha that is worth living for. I'm not going to run away and I won't give up, but sometimes I do make tactical retreats because that's my ninja way! Please lend me your strength!"

At that moment, from somewhere in the distance, bright arrows suddenly pierced the night sky before crackling and exploding outwards into its doom, erupting into loud blasts and spewing myriads of colors that vaguely resembled the kanji of number nineteen.

Happy fortieth birthday, ye old bastard.

Shikamaru wiped her tears away, giggling despite everything. "Took you long enough, Madara-san."

Now that she was more sober, Shikamaru quickly dusted the dirt off of herself before heading towards her gathering comrades.

It took her quite a while to get there, the alcohol still buzzing in her blood, but when she finally got there the first thing that greeted her was a hypnotising bonfire at the middle of the training ground, followed by sounds of laughter and fragrance of delicious meat being cooked into perfection.

Shikamaru felt herself salivating. Her stomach quickly rumbled its assent.

"Hungry?"

She turned around and came face to face with a bouquet of sunflowers. Her favorite.

Tobirama smiled sheepishly. "Happy birthday, Shika."

She grinned. "Thank you." Shikamaru leaned up to kiss him out of habit, then cringed a second later. "Wait, I am so sorry, Hokage-sama."

As if sensing an oncoming drama, Madara suddenly appeared with a plate of roasted fish and one of her stolen pipes. She quickly snatched the latter and pushed Tobirama to stand between them.

"I see that getting older has not made you any less of an asshole, Shikari-san," he drawled. "And Senju... why are you here? Aren't you supposed to consummate your marriage or at least try to fake it or something? Since you obviously cannot get it up."

Shikamaru took a long drag from the pipe.

"Are you seriously looking for a fight right now, Uchiha? In the middle of a night?"

"Opium." High quality, she thought. "Do you want some, Hokage-sama?"

Madara waggled his brows. "Yes. Do you want some, Hokage-sama?"

Tobirama scowled. "My sexual life is none of your concern, Uchiha."

"As if you could ever get any," Madara rebutted.

Shikamaru nibbled a bite from her friend's plate. "Get a room, you two."

The Uchiha looked triumphant. "Ha, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Nara? I've always known that you're a perv."

Tobirama shifted closer to Shikamaru. "Go away, you weirdo."

"What's that, Senju? You hate me? I thought a Hokage is not supposed to discriminate against any of his subjects."

"Stop twisting my words, you manchild—"

"Madam counsellor, I would like to report the Hokage for his deliberate use of hate speech—"

"Here we go again…" Shikamaru muttered.

Things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.

Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

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