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On The Cusp	By : Okami-Rayne Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 2208 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: NARUTO and its respective characters were created and are owned by Masashi Kishimoto. No copyright infringement intended. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
ON THE CUSP

by Okami Rayne

Chapter Seven

"Where's Tricky?"

"He could not come with me."

"But I have cookies for him."

"I'll be sure to give them to him."

"I made this for you."

"…Thank you."

"That's you and that's Tricky! He has funny hair. You're sleeping. You slept really long."

"I did."

"It's okay! He's looking after you. See? He's sad."

"Sad?"

"Yup. He was sad when you were sleeping."

Neji blinked slowly, brushing his thumb over the edge of the drawing framed between his hands. Maki had crayoned in the details with a childish tendency to see the world in brighter, bolder shades. Exaggerated colours and proportions, giving life, memories and the moment she'd captured a sense of significance and sentiment.

Everything was a splash of colour and wonder in children's eyes.

Perhaps their palettes were broader, the brush of their imagination untainted.

Neji's perceptions had long faded to grey. Even as a child any rich stroke of imagination and hope had been watered down into the clear, colourless black and white of reality.

He traced his gaze over Maki's drawing.

Thinking back on the moment she'd captured here, he wondered why the world hadn't seemed brighter to him when he'd pulled through from that dangerous black 'sleep'.

Isn't that what happens when you get another chance at life?

Should he have seen things differently? Developed a deeper appreciation for the breaths he'd been forgetting to take? Should he have taken time to re-discover those shades and hues that had been bleached by the acidity of what had almost killed him?

Does it matter? I'm alive.

He'd cheated death enough times. And yet, every time he did, every time he returned from that brink of non-existence, the world lost a little colour.

One day, it will be different.

Neji hummed quietly. He was more alive than he'd been in months – maybe years. He had purpose, direction and control over the rage that had been pushing him closer to that edge.

Never again.

He placed the crayon sketch between two sheets of parchment and slipped it into the lockable compartment of the tansu chest set to one corner of his room. Elegantly crafted, the chest possessed an intricate leaf design etched into the pale grain of kiri wood. Hiashi had had the tansu commissioned for his twin. It was the only thing Neji now possessed that contained anything of worth. Pieces of the past were preserved here; pieces that came together to bring a little colour to his world, in the moments when memories became faded and washed out.

His fingertips brushed a slip of paper. It was slotted as a bookmark into a volume of haiku poems his father used to read. He plucked the paper free, glimpsed the scrawl of Shikamaru's handwriting and quickly tucked it back.

He slid the drawer shut.

It felt like a futile attempt to close a mental door on a memory – and all the ones attached to it.

To him.

Neji dragged his gaze across the room, milky orbs lingering on his futon. He focused on the package set at the end of the bedroll. He'd brought it with him from Hanegakure. Maki's cookies. He'd completely forgotten to offload the gift onto Hibari and have the redhead pass it on to Shikamaru.

"He's looking after you."

Neji stared at the coarse string tied around the brown paper wrapping, following the turns in the knots and feeling a curious symmetry in his heartstrings.

"He was sad."

Neji closed his eyes and turned away from the futon, gripping the edges of the chest. He felt the metalwork biting into his palms from the tansu's iron frame. He tried to work a similar iron around the tender edges of his heart.

He couldn't.

And that is why I need to stay away.

Countless tiny lights.

They glittered around the grounds like trapped stars.

HOTARU's stroll-through gardens captured the theme of the firefly with the same devotion as the ryokan's interior. Small tea lights floated on the surface of shallow ponds, the waters rippling with the sinuous glide of carp. A series of lanterns hung from the slender arms of manicured trees. They were plotted and pruned along a walkway paved with large, flat stones.

The moon glowed down, but silver-linings were gold in the lantern light, the silvery pall of mist shredded by the breeze.

Shikamaru shook off the thought of a red fog.

Beside him, Temari slowed her pace.

The shadow-nin matched her steps as they crossed the stone pathway onto a wooden bridge, its elegant structure arched low across a lily pond. Semi-submerged rock formations rose from the shallow waters, lantern light playing off the glistening stone.

The chill nipped Shikamaru's skin, gnawing deep.

He draped his arms over the bridge's wooden railing, clasping his hands in a rigid squeeze that pulsed feeling back into his numb fingers. Temari stopped beside him but he didn't turn. He gazed down at the pond and studied the faintest play of ripples, trying to keep centred.

Red maples rustled in the cold breeze.

Temari shivered once. "The winds are always warm."

Shikamaru turned his head fractionally, glancing across. Temari had cocked her hip against the bridge, one elbow propped on the railing. She banded an arm across her chest, rubbing at her opposite shoulder.

"Suna," she said quietly. "Dry, warm."

She stared up at a copper rain chain designed to channel droplets down its centre, the rusty hues struck bronze in the lantern light. Shikamaru watched her out the corner of his eye.

"You leave tomorrow," he said quietly, pitching his intonation somewhere between a statement and a question.

Temari continued to study the rain chain, her features obscured in the sooty hues of shadow and flame. "Konoha's Peace with Hanegakure has become Suna's too. It's a good thing to inherit allies. You did well on that mission."

Shikamaru frowned, the muscles at the hinge of his jaw bunching.

He looked away as Temari turned, catching the flash of those crimson nails as she crossed her arms atop the railing. "About time you got that promotion."

Shikamaru sighed, resisting the urge to hang his head between his arms. He really didn't want to think, let alone talk about that.

"Not interested."

"No," Temari agreed quietly. "You're really not. But then, you're safe enough to turn down offers bluntly on your own turf."

Shikamaru smirked bitterly, the twist of his lips barely discernable. As if his level of interest or his attempts to avoid a position of responsibility really mattered. Tsunade still moved him about as if he possessed the rank already. An official title wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference.

"However," Temari continued, her voice dipping into a warning. "If you ever put Gaara in a position like that again, I promise I won't hesitate."

Shikamaru pressed his lips, squeezing his hands until the knuckles in his fingers grinded hard enough to hurt.

"Hesitate to what?" he baited, sounding bored.

She shot him a narrow glare.

One corner of Shikamaru's lips tugged upwards.

Temari's nails dug into the prickled flesh of her arms as she straightened away from the railing. "Do you really want to bait me?"

Shikamaru let the question hang, his expression closed, dark eyes hooded by his lashes as he gazed down at the pond…at the broken mirror of its surface.

"Not sure you should be asking me what I want right now," he directed the words to his own reflection, watching the sharp angles of his face warp into ripples.

He caught the peripheral gleam of Temari's headband and closed his eyes against the flash of a different hitai-ate in his mind's eye. With that flash came the memory of cool steel and the distinct moment when the leaf emblem fogged over with his ragged pants.

And then the flash of deep, opal irises gauging every shift in his body.

"Give in to me, Shikamaru…"

Shikamaru snapped his eyes open, swallowing roughly.

Temari was watching him.

"Why's that?" she murmured.

He could have laughed darkly at that.

Why? Because right now all he really wanted was the quickest exit he could find. The quickest means to anesthetise the pain of the Need, to outthink the random misfire of his own thoughts and to move beyond the ghost of a past that shouldn't have been rising from the grave he'd buried it in two years ago. How the hell it had begun to stir up inside him now was beyond his ability to understand; at least at the moment. He didn't have a chance in hell of working it out when he was nearing his limit as far as sleep deprivation went.

How the hell did your 4AM crap become my problem? You're gone and it doesn't fucking stop. 'You' don't stop…

He stared blankly at the water, feeling the breeze pull apart his breath as it misted away. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding.

"NARA!"

Shikamaru started at the shout, jerking his head up to look across the bridge.

Like some disembodied head floating in the mist, Kotetsu's face hovered over one of the lanterns, casting his features in a freakish, skull-like light. He was wearing one of the road-cone party hats.

"Boo," he whispered.

Shikamaru frowned and straightened up in a languid sway. "Troublesome."

Kotetsu's face split into a grin, teeth flashing in the darkness. "You hurt me bad, Nara. We're a team and everything."

"Team?" Temari queried, a golden brow arched.

Shikamaru shot her a half-assed look that wearily and wordlessly spelled out 'don't make me explain, it's a drag'. She shrugged, folding her arms with a curious glance in Kotetsu's direction as the Chūnin swaggered his way across the bridge.

"Not interrupting am I?" he posed with a smarmy bob of his eyebrows.

"No," Shikamaru and Temari chorused, both glancing at each other awkwardly before looking away again.

Kotetsu glanced between them critically, hands on hips.

Then he snorted, eyes dancing playfully. "Suuure."

Shikamaru scowled. "Don't recall your name on the guest list."

Kotetsu clapped a hand above his heart. "Broken."

"Idiot," Shikamaru sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

"They insisted on letting me in. Is it my fault I'm irresistible to the ladies?" Kotetsu shrugged, pretending to heft the burden of his self-proclaimed irresistibility between each shoulder.

"Did a lady put your nose out of joint?" Temari queried, raising her chin to indicate the bandage taped across Kotetsu's nose.

The Chūnin laughed, stroking his thumb along the white strip. "Now there's one hell of a story behind this."

"Have fun regaling her," Shikamaru muttered, slotting his hands into his pockets to begin drifting back across the bridge.

"I was regaling Ino before she shamelessly used me," Kotetsu sighed, glancing warily at Temari. "Women."

Temari arched a brow. Shikamaru, however, stopped walking, dropped all semblance of an expression and cast an unreadable look over his shoulder at the other Chūnin.

"Used you?"

"Yeah!" Kotetsu spun on his heel, road-cone hat tilting to one side as he tapped his temple in sharp little jabs. "She went all creepy possession in my head. I paid for two bottles against my will!" Kotetsu paused here. "Man, that's like mind rape. I blacked out and everything."

"Blacked out?" Shikamaru's brows drew together sharply.

"Yeah, get that, huh?" Kotetsu snorted. "And she's the one who's drunk. That jutsu should have failed."

"Which doesn't say much about you," Temari concluded airily, but her eyes remained set on Shikamaru, gauging his reaction curiously.

Ignoring Kotetsu's indignant yet playful defence, Shikamaru fought the urge to drag his fingers angrily along his scalp. Although, he felt more like scraping his damn fingers around the inside of his skull to grab at any lingering traces of a possible invasion he hadn't seen coming.

God if she…

Anger and tension rising to a red zone in his blood, he cursed mentally and was already crossing the bridge by the time Kotetsu called after him.

"Oi! Where are you going?"

To kill Ino.

A blonde and lilac spectacle caught Shikamaru's eye the second he strode back into the dining room.

A game of 'Pop the Balloons with the Stupid Hats' was in play.

Naruto and Hinata vs. Kiba and Ino.

However, Ino seemed to have confused the purpose of the game. Rather than supporting Kiba in the playing field, Kiba seemed to be supporting Ino on her two left feet.

In fact, Ino looked more like she was dancing with Kiba.

Or rather, dancing on Kiba.

She had one arm hooked around his neck like a long-time lover, hips swaying to and fro as she jiggled on her heels in an attempt to head-butt balloons. In her free hand she cradled a bulbous glass sloshing crimson liquid over the rim.

Her glazed blue eyes kept flashing back towards Sakura and Hibari at the table.

While Kiba was laughing, he seemed more concerned about keeping Ino upright than allowing himself to respond to the attention she was physically lathering onto him like a bitch in heat.

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed.

Stupid, reckless, troublesome girl.

He began to cross the distance in long strides and as pokerfaced as he kept his expression, it didn't stop something from leaking through.

Kiba caught on instantly.

His nostrils flared in a quick sniff, scenting what could only be the shit hitting the fan.

He stopped laughing at whatever Ino slurred at Naruto and veered his attention onto Shikamaru. Hinata followed the dog-nin's gaze and quickly snatched down the balloon floating about, confusing Naruto, who didn't seem to pick up on anything other than the fact that the game had been cut short.

"Hey, what gives?"

Kiba tried to extricate himself from Ino without knocking her balance, the dark slits of his irises pinching tighter as Shikamaru drew nearer.

Thankfully, Ino pounced before either male could react.

"There you aaarre!"

She abandoned Kiba like a bored child and flung her arms around Shikamaru's neck, turning them in a circle that matched the slosh of her drink. It swirled in a ruby wash around the glass, red as the anger that threatened to spill into Shikamaru's rigid expression.

He couldn't confront her here.

"You didn't bail on me!" Ino grinned.

Shikamaru grimaced at the fruity breath that fired into his face. He had to hook an arm around her waist to keep her standing as she wobbled on her thin heels. Kiba quit the scene in a dash, loping back towards the table with Naruto and Hinata to get in on cake and avoid the icing of tension layering across Shikamaru's face.

"Ino, get off me," the shadow-nin snarled.

"Why? Kiba likes me." Ino followed the dog-nin's movements with hooded eyes, grinning as she dipped in Shikamaru's arms, forcing him to plant a foot back to keep them both balanced. "Someone likes me."

Shikamaru jerked her upright.

Ino yelped and clutched her drink to her chest. "Oooww!" she whined.

He hissed in her ear. "Get a grip and stand up."

"I am standing up, you…you ssstupid ass hat!" she slurred.

Shikamaru dug deep for patience and blinked twice. "Did you use your jutsu on Kotetsu?"

Ino nodded emphatically, looping her arm around his shoulders for support. "Where's he gone?"

"Did you use it on me?"

Ino wasn't listening. "Where's Temariiii?"

Shikamaru adjusted his grip on her and steered her back towards the far end of the table, trying to avoid the stomp of her heels. "Shut up and sit down."

Ino pouted. "Aww, she thinks she's too good for my Shikamaru?" Ino giggled, her voice a slurring sing-song in his ear. "Hey, what do you look for in a girl anyway?"

"Distance," he snapped, depositing her on one of the chairs and pushing her away when she tried to drape her arms over his shoulders. "Don't."

"Aww, don't be like that!" Ino circled her hand around in loopy wrist rolls, sloshing more red over the bowl of the glass and along her fingers. "You have a harem, Shika!"

Shikamaru scowled, grabbed her wrist and plucked the glass out of her sticky fingers, setting the drink on the table. He smacked away her hands when they reached for him again.

"Knock it off," he dropped his voice. "You're behaving like an idiot and it's starting to piss me off."

Ino pulled her head back, hurt registering on her face seconds before an irrational and wild flicker picked up in the intoxicated swirl of her blue eyes. "Oh? Am I embarrassing you?" she snapped hotly. "Am I making you look bad, Missster Sissster Screwer?"

Shikamaru's jaw hardened. "Nice. Real nice."

Ino smirked sourly, pawing the table for her drink, eyes still fixed on him. "Go on!" She waved him off with a haughty little flick of her wrist. "Go get into Temari's panties. That's all…that's all you guys want anyway."

Shikamaru frowned, his dark eyes scanning her face. He could sense the recklessness rolling off her in waves. Add her recklessness to his anger and even a Magic 8 ball could predict that outcome.

Calm down.

Drawing a slow breath through his nose he smoothed out his brow and levelled her with a cool stare, fielding her histrionics by not reacting. Hopefully the tactic would quieten her down.

"You're drunk."

Ino gave a derisive sniff and smacked a hand to his shoulder to shove him away. "I'm not drunk. I'm happy."

Shikamaru caught her wrist and pinned it to the side of her chair beneath the table, all the while trying not to draw attention their way.

He kept his voice low. "You can sit down and be happy."

"And you can kiss my pretty ass." Ino tried to angle a kick at his shin and missed completely.

Shikamaru crouched down and leaned in, his voice hardened to the same steel of his grip as he kept her wrist pinned, predicting a pending slap if he released her. "If you don't settle down and shut up, I'm gonna shadow-possess your obnoxious, annoying ass and drag you out of here."

Ino blinked owlishly, cheeks flushed, lips parted in shock.

She stared at him like a wounded, wide-eyed child for the full few moments it took for his words to penetrate her hazy mind. Then she burst into laughter loud enough to draw eyes and turn heads. Shikamaru cringed inwardly and released her, a scowl prominent on his face as he slid into the chair beside her, slipping out of view.

"Ino," he warned quietly, to no avail.

"You want to manhandle me!" She laughed, shoving him playfully, all traces of her anger flung aside for amusement. "You man handler!"

"Man handler?" Sai asked from across the table. "Are women not your preference, Shikamaru-kun?"

A devastating hush settled around the table.

Silence – except, of course, for Ino. She began to giggle uncontrollably into her arms, flaxen ponytail quivering with her laughter. Shikamaru worked his jaw against the tension but took the opportunity to shift his focus.

He shot Sai a flat, sideways glance. "It must hurt to be you."

"Sai!" Naruto elbowed his teammate. "What the hell? You can't just come out with stuff like that!"

"That's what they call it," Sai replied, rubbing at his ribs. "Coming out."

Kiba looked up from under the table, speaking around a mouthful of cake he'd been halving with Akamaru. "Who's coming out?"

Naruto scowled. "Kiba man, don't encourage him."

Sai fished around in his bag and set a book down on the table, flipping to dog-eared pages. "It says it is an empowering journey."

"Coming out the closet?" Kiba chuckled, rising ass first from under the table to sit down again.

"Closet?" Sai frowned.

"My closet is purple!" Ino announced, waving around a drink stirrer. She ran it across her bee-stung lips and shot Kiba a sultry look. "So are the lacy things I keep in it."

Kiba choked on his tongue at the same time as Naruto.

Shikamaru considered the penalty of murdering his teammate and let his lashes fall shut behind his palm. His urge to strangle Ino didn't distract from the fact that he needed to get her away from any male in the vicinity before she disgraced herself completely.

Where the hell is Chōji? He's the one who should be doing this.

Shikamaru rubbed at his eyes only to snap them open in wide-eyed shock when Ino began to brush her fingers across his hairline in a feathering stroke.

"Aww, its okay, Shikamaru." She petted him gently. "I'll find you a nice girl or boy."

He jerked his head away, smacking her hand off him. "Get off."

Ino pressed her lips in a pitying little smile. "You can cry. I won't judge you."

Shikamaru's eyes zeroed in on her mouth, noticing the stain her drink had left before his gaze hit on the glass he'd taken off her. "What have you been drinking?"

Ino grinned brightly. "Something with fruit!"

Across the table, Sai flipped pages. "It says in this book that fruit can mean homosexual."

Shikamaru scanned for a bottle and considered whether attaching it to his mouth would feel better than cracking it over Sai's head. Naruto reacted for the whole table. His jaw dropped, road-cone hat canting to one side in a 'wrong turn' spin as he jerked around in his seat, staring aghast at his teammate.

"Sai!"

Kiba just nodded sagely. "I think we all look pretty fruity with these stupid hats."

"Kiba!"

Sai looked up curiously at Kiba's hat. "Is it fruity to wear hats?"

"Sai, would you shut up!" Naruto snatched the book out of his teammate's hands, throwing it across the room like a bomb set to detonate. "Why the hell are you reading that!"

"I think Naruto's scared you'll out him," Kiba explained to the chalk-faced and deeply confused Sai.

Naruto wheeled on Kiba, the rim of his hat obscuring his vision as he stabbed his fork at Shino instead. "Take that back!"

Kiba laughed wolfishly, snapping his teeth. "Make me, lovebird."

"Lovebird?" Sai queried.

"It's their lovers pet name," Sakura chirped from across the table, stroking the little orange bird dozing on Hibari's shoulder.

Sai blinked. "Really?"

"NO!" Kiba and Naruto barked in unison.

"Yes!" Ino piped up, perching her high-heels at the edge of her seat as she swivelled around, slapping Shikamaru in the face with her hair.

Ugh.

The night was turning into something surreal enough to have the shadow-nin wondering whether someone had spiked his coffee. Too bad they hadn't. That at least might have made sense. He leaned away from Ino's grooming fingers when she bent her arms and head back to coo an apology at him upside-down.

He stared at the door and prayed for Chōji to walk through it.

Naruto was busy shaking his fist under Sai's nose. "I don't bat for that team, idiot!"

"I don't think you have a team, Naruto," Sakura teased.

Shockingly, Shino raised his voice from the muffled obscurity of his coat, letting his words carry across the table. "You may be inclined to both teams, Naruto. Why? Because you have a tendency to display exaggerated and defensive homophobic qualities."

"True." Kiba clapped Shino on the shoulder.

The Aburame nodded once. "Add to that the fact that your overreactions are usually unfounded. So I ask, what does that suggest?"

"The obvious." Tenten looked up from the zodiac book, flipping knives and forks over her knuckles like kunai. "The lady doth protest too much."

Naruto blinked, drawing up shortly in his seat. "Whoa, what did you just call me?"

"A lady dog!" Ino giggled, throwing her arms up like a cheerleader, narrowly avoiding Shikamaru's jaw as he ducked.

He stretched across her, apprehending her drink and the bottle it had come from, sliding them away without her noticing.

"LADY WHAT?" Naruto slammed his hands on the table, pushing up in red-faced offence, nostrils flaring. "I'm no one's bitc—!"

"Lady doth," Lee corrected, holding up his pointer finger. "It's archaic, Naruto."

"Lee called you an old lady, Naruto," Kiba jeered, his grin made sharper by the point of his canines. "'Cause you fight like one."

Naruto hopped up onto his chair, fists balled and tucked back. "BRING IT!"

Ino clapped her hands in an excited little pat. "Ooh, dogfight!" She reached for her glass and grasped air, swaying in her seat. "Heeey where's my drink?"

"Gone," Shikamaru growled, his eyes on the exit. "Like I'm gonna be in five seconds."

Ino's eyes widened and she twisted around to dig her fingers into his sleeve. Shikamaru kept his eyes on the door.

"Please don't go." She puffed a breath upwards to blow her bangs away from her eyes, squinting around the room. "Where's my Chōji? I want my boys together!"

"Eh?" Naruto paused in his exaggerated display of male posturing and looked down at Ino in horror. "You want what?"

"Her boys together," Sai echoed quietly, flipping through another book. "I think she is referring to a popular genre in girl's fiction called—"

"Will you give it a rest already!" Naruto yelled and swung his fist, knocking Sai's hat into a balloon with a loud BANG.

Shikamaru flinched, pushing up out of his chair. "That's it."

Ino latched onto his wrist. "Don't ditch me, it's my birthday! It's ooourr birthday. You promised."

"Ino…" he seethed, but the snarl fractured at the watery flash in her eyes. "Oh don't even try it."

Ino sniffed, biting her lip hard enough that Shikamaru realised she wasn't faking the waterworks. Her blue orbs began to film over, brimming with a sheen that threatened to spill into a small stream over the spiky barrier of her lashes.

"Ino," he sighed through his teeth.

Ino sank back in her chair, staring at his vacant seat forlornly. "I just want the Team together."

Like a gutted child, she sagged forward onto her arms with a hiccup and made those small jerky movements that indicated to Shikamaru that her emotional dam was closer to caving than his sanity at this point.

God dammit…

He cursed quietly, scanned the room in a futile search for Chōji, caught Sakura's eye instead and gestured her over with a lift of his chin and a pointed glance at Ino. The pink-haired kunoichi skirted around the table towards him, shooting Ino a look riddled with awkward apology.

"She's really had it."

"No kidding," Shikamaru sighed. "Do you know where Chōji is?"

Sakura gestured toward the door. "I think he was helping Hinata earlier in the kitchen."

That explains it.

Shikamaru shook his head, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Right. Thanks."

Sakura nodded and watched the shadow-nin slant himself over a whimpering Ino, hands hovering awkwardly at her shoulders, looking for the best angle to grab her from.

"Shikamaru…" Sakura looked on uncertainly, trying hard to offer support with a grim smile rapidly sliding into a grimace. "Maybe you shouldn't…"

Sage advice. Damn right he shouldn't.

This is going to hurt.

He was already predicting the outcome, which weighed heavily on Ino's tendency to get obnoxiously violent when she strayed this far into the troublesome corner of her inner Rubik's Cube. Add to that the fact that she was more than a little over-served.

Testing the waters, he flicked her on the head. "Time to go, Princess."

Ino stiffened at the abhorred nickname and growled into the crook of her arm.

"I hate you!" she snapped, throwing out a hand to flail in his general direction, her voice shaky and thick with tears. "Go away!"

"I wish," he growled, grabbing her waving arm and hauling her up. "Move it."

"You're such a jerk!" Ino balled a fist and brought it down on his chest, only to drop her forehead there as she groaned, swaying forward. "I hate you."

Shikamaru sighed and met Sakura's gaze over the blonde arc of Ino's ponytail. Sakura's lips pressed into a tense little smile, concern playing in her eyes.

"Not the smartest idea, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru forced out a weak laugh that barked into a cough as Ino smacked him hard in the chest. Her fist came down again and again as she thudded out her frustration, weakening the blow each time.

Sakura winced. "Need some help?"

"Yeah, in the morning when I'm black and blue," he joked weakly, looping a long arm around Ino's waist to keep her from sliding back into her chair. "Would you send Chōji over?"

Sakura saluted with the tips of her fingers, nodding. "Sure. I'll go find him now."

"Thanks."

"I could have had him if I wanted," Ino whimpered and followed it up with a half-growl, half-giggle. "Where's Chōji? Chōji loves me."

Shikamaru angled her with a confused look. "Yeah, he's gonna be thrilled to see you acting like an idiot."

Ino tried to shove him. "I hate you."

"Thanks." Shikamaru set his gaze on the door and pulled in a determined breath that almost left him in a gush as Ino pounded out another round against his chest. "Stop hitting me or I'm—"

Ino keened something high-pitched and pitiful that sounded like a crying animal.

Shikamaru sighed into her hair.

How troublesome.

"How the hell do you do it? How the hell do you push this down?"

The words still haunted him.

They were as insistent as the foolish compulsion driving him now.

Neji knew that, but even the knowing couldn't stop the yearning.

I still can't push it down.

It pulled like an undulating rise and fall inside of him, pushing him forward and dragging him away all in the same movement. Grains of reason slipped back and forth as an ache beached itself in the centre of his chest.

"I will walk away. One of us has to."

Neji veered right and changed direction for the seventh time. His mind fired out a scolding stream.

You promised you would walk away. You did. Now stay away.

That beached pain sank a little deeper into his chest.

He leapt to a higher level as if to escape it, walking along the edge of a building close to the Academy. He dropped down onto an open rooftop. While mostly vacant, it was dominated by a large, square seating area, sheltered and shaded by a roof.

Who'd have thought…?

He hadn't plotted a course, which had made his progress across the village somewhat sporadic, resulting in several stops and starts. But then, he didn't intend to reach his destination, just orbit around it like a feather caught in the grips of an unshakeable current.

Neji breathed out a soft stream of air, watching it chase away on the wind.

Tomorrow he'd find a way to catch the next cold wind out of Konoha. Another mission, another means to an end, another step closer to his final goal. One more mission always meant one more chance to find the pieces pulled roughly from the board he'd had turned on its head weeks ago.

No clean slates, just a repositioning of pieces…isn't that right, Nara?

Neji felt traces of a smile twitch the numb sting from his lips.

He moved deeper into the shadows, a dark swathe across the wooden square. He knew this spot. Knew that Shikamaru frequented it for a purpose Neji had once never understood.

But a burning sunset and a cold sunrise two weeks ago had changed that.

Shrugging off the chill of the air and the grip of the memory, he moved to sit, laying back on the broad wood to gaze up at the sky. His moonstone eyes traced the clouds, illuminated in eerie wisps against a backdrop of endless black, scattered with stars.

He'd wait for the sunrise.

"Sunrise huh? Guess I can take one more crappy hello…"

Neji blinked slowly, fighting not to close his eyes.

Could you take another goodbye?

He watched a cloud drift across the moon and smiled sadly.

Happy Birthday, Shikamaru.

"Take them off."

"No."

"Take them off."

"No!" Ino yelled from her graceless slump on the floor, tear-stained cheeks reddened in fury. She glared up at the harassed shadow-nin hovering over her. "Jerk!"

Shikamaru ducked a slap as he crouched down. "If you don't take them off, I'm gonna leave you here."

"OooOoh!" She drew back with a mock expression of exaggerated fear, sniffing up tears as she waved him off. "Go on then! Leave. You're good at disappearing!"

Shikamaru set his jaw and gnarled his fingers into the space either side of Ino's throat to keep from wrapping his hands around her neck. She slouched back against the wall, sticking her tongue out. Opting for distance over the temptation to choke, Shikamaru bumped his fists into the wall and pushed to his feet.

"Go on," she taunted. "Gooo."

He stepped back and stared down through the bored half-mast of his lashes.

"Take them off," he repeated, droning the words tiredly.

Ino tucked her leg back and kicked at his shin. Shikamaru easily swayed out of harms way, watching the evil spike of her heel stab the air and crack loudly onto the polished wooden floors. She'd nailed him several times in the instep already and one abused foot was about as much as he was willing to suffer.

"Whoa, what's happening?" a voice called down the corridors.

"Chōji!" Ino waved her arm back and forth like a damsel trying to hail a hero. "You're here! You're not an ass hat! You're my bestest friend!"

"Uh, yeah? Ino, why are you on the floor?" The Akimichi upped his pace, searching Shikamaru's face for some explanation. "What's going on?"

Shikamaru flicked a hand at Ino irritably and dropped it back to his hip, canting his weight away from another sharp kick. "You mean the foaming at the mouth drama isn't enough to clue you in?"

Ino snarled and lunged for him.

Chōji came between them, one hand clamped on Ino's shoulder and the other turned up to hold off Shikamaru – or rather the shadow-nin's cutting words. "Hey, don't make it worse."

Shikamaru chuckled throatily, shaking his head. "Like I need to."

Ino tried unsuccessfully to climb over Chōji rather than attempt to get around him, clawing at his back with lilac-lacquered nails looking to imbed themselves in Shikamaru's smirking face.

"You're such a bastard!" Ino hissed at him.

Shikamaru hesitated at that, his gut tightening.

"There's the snarky bastard your friends don't get to see…"

If any hint of emotion showed on his face, it was only fractional, lost again behind his chameleon shift into an unbothered, lazy expression. He shook his head, his lack of response only vexing Ino further until Chōji locked her in a bear hug to keep her in place.

"Come on, Ino, calm down," the Akimichi said gently, shooting Shikamaru a frustrated glance. "Jeez, would you quit riling her up?"

Shikamaru feigned innocence with a quirk of his brow.

Ino screamed something unintelligible and bicycled her feet in a series of kicks that Shikamaru watched with irritation, then with calculation. Timing her thrashing, the shadow-nin grabbed her ankle, dislodging one of her shoes as the sharp heel of the other nicked across the back of his hand.

Chōji winced. "Ow."

Shikamaru grunted something that translated as "no shit" before using the same method to confiscate Ino's other shoe. Hooking the straps into his fingers he stepped back, dangling them like a victory prize.

"Was that really so painful for you?" he taunted.

Ino panted in mounting fury, face mottled red and stained with mascara trails, an unbridled urge to maim twisting her expression into that she-wolf fierceness she'd set on Sakura earlier.

"I HATE YOU!"

Shikamaru blinked slowly. "I got that part."

Letting out a banshee scream, she launched into another series of futile kicks, each one jostling Chōji on the spot. The Akimichi tilted back until her feet were no longer touching the floor, giving her less leverage to struggle.

"Uh, where should we put her?" Chōji asked.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Ino screeched, the pitch of her scream like nails across an eardrum, never mind a chalkboard.

Shikamaru worked his jaw against the earache and flipped out a set of room keys, glancing at the symbol etched into the tag. "Follow the fireflies."

And they did, moving along the corridors with Shikamaru taking the lead several lazy paces ahead. They passed rooms set far enough apart to hint at the luxury size behind each door, all marked with different firefly symbols painted red or purple into the grain. Shikamaru flicked his eyes over the tag in his palm and kept his focus drifting between doors, trying to locate Ino's room.

Six doors down the corridor, Ino stopped wailing and started singing.

She'd given up the kicking game, but Chōji continued to carry her, given that her spatial awareness remained as challenged as her ability to hold a tune, let alone the lyrics. Her drunken song bubbled away in the background.

Shikamaru ignored it for the most part as he stopped at one of the doors.

The painting matched the tag. He flipped the keys over his knuckles, frowning at the ache in his head, which had less to do with Ino's singing and more with his own flood of mental chatter. His focus divided itself in rough, uneven segments between a rapid influx of thought; a rush of various moments, memories and mental notes all vying for his attention.

Fuck. Just shut up…

He tapped his head against the door, squeezing his eyes shut before exhaling shakily. Chōji was too distracted with an armful of Ino to notice.

"Uh, that our room?" the Akimichi asked, hope ringing in his voice.

"Roooom," Ino cooed the word into her song.

Shikamaru nodded as he turned the key. "Yeah."

He eased the door open with his shoulder, toeing off his shoes to kick them on ahead into the foyer, tossing Ino's heels behind them. He moved in and to one side, allowing for Chōji to carry Ino past the threshold and further into the main guest room.

"…have all the flowers gone…?" Ino sang.

Shikamaru brushed his fingers along the wall, searching for the light switch. His thumb stuck true. A dim pulse of tiny, cat-eye lights glowed around the room, the retro-reflective glass picking up on the main amber hued bulbs fitted behind shoji screens and fusuma panels. It was the same honeyed light that they'd used in the restaurant.

The little cat-eye additions kept with the firefly theme.

Figures…

Shikamaru flicked his gaze around the luxury room, taking in the interior's elements, all influenced by reds and purples wrapped up in a somewhat modern structure. But it exuded a traditional sense of ambience, prominent in the wall scrolls, ornamental alcove and even the flower arrangement.

"Ino, just sit here okay?"

Shikamaru looked over at his teammates.

Chōji plopped Ino down on one of the long, low couches, the ends of the seating curving up like bulls horns. An elegant and graceful design that Ino sprawled across without shame, stretching cat-like. Chōji tugged her skirt down, trying to get her to sit up. Instead, she dangled her arms off one end of the couch, hung her head and abruptly burst into tears.

Shikamaru looked at Chōji.

Chōji looked back helplessly.

Ino let out a sound that Shikamaru had never heard before. It classed somewhere between a sob, scream and strangled cough. Both males shifted uncomfortably on the spot.

Shikamaru rubbed at the back of his head. "Troublesome…"

"What do you mean, troublesome?" Chōji waved a hand at her. "What happened?"

Shikamaru shrugged, spinning the loop of the keys around his finger. The flash of the metal didn't distract from the glistening of Ino's tears. They smeared shiny black along her forearms, mascara smudged like runny paint.

Dammit.

Shikamaru continued to ignore the building tension until Chōji began to frown at him with something stronger than expectancy. Shikamaru stopped spinning the keys and caught them in a loud rattle against his palm.

"What?" he snapped defensively.

Chōji sighed and flinched at a particularly heart-wrenching sob from Ino. "I'm gonna find her some tissues."

Shikamaru closed his fingers hard around the keys. "Tissues…"

"For the tears, in case you didn't notice," Chōji elaborated sarcastically, moving across the room to make good on his hunt. "Man, what's up with you two?"

Shikamaru blinked hard, choking on his breath. "What the hell do you mean, you two?"

Ino jerked her head up. "It's not his fault!"

Shocked at the unexpected defence, Shikamaru looked at her suspiciously out the corner of his eye. "It's not?"

Ino shook her head from side to side, scattering teardrops before she curled into a ball against the deep maroon of the couch, weeping into its plush fibres.

"It's all me," she cried. "It's always me!"

Oh god…it's the Rubik's Cube…

Shikamaru could feel its sharp, pointy, complicated edges poking into his brain, demanding that he solve the great, troublesome mystery that was Yamanaka Ino. He looked to Chōji in a sudden panic, turning on his heel quickly to remove himself from the scene. He started towards the sliding doors at the furthest side of the room.

"I'll get the tissues, you deal with the drama."

"No," Chōji stepped into his path and stabbed a firm finger towards him. "You deal with it."

Shikamaru fell back a step as if that finger had shoved him. "You're joking. She's crying."

Chōji rolled his eyes. "Kind of noticed."

"Then maybe you'll 'kind of notice' the roles." Shikamaru half-turned with an all-encompassing sweep of his arm towards Ino, like someone drawing back a curtain on a destroyed stage set. "You're the 'bestest' friend right now and I'm the bastard."

"Yeah, you are," Chōji said quietly. "When exactly did that happen?"

Shikamaru rocked his head back as if he'd taken a blow.

He made to answer, found that he couldn't, and snapped his mouth shut.

A thick silence gripped his throat, harder than the look Chōji levelled on him. It was a glower of angry confusion so rare to the Akimichi's face that it took Shikamaru a moment to register he'd lost control of his own expression. He stared at his oldest friend, dark eyes pinched against the emotion he'd tried to hide from Ino earlier.

He could hear her sobbing softly in the background.

Chōji didn't break the stare.

Shikamaru couldn't hold it.

Not without his eyes threatening to give away more than he was willing to let show.

He dropped his gaze.

He didn't see Chōji's glower soften sadly. But the Akimichi didn't say anything to take the edge off the tension. Instead, he let it hang heavy over Shikamaru's head, turning towards the door the shadow-nin had sought to make an exit.

It slid shut behind him.

Shikamaru let the quiet click of the wood signal a release in his expression. His eyes pressed shut then flickered open, fixing on the square patches of the tatami flooring. He mindlessly traced the shadow cast from the low table in the centre of the room.

There wasn't much that he truly hated.

But fighting with Chōji was something he despised.

For Shikamaru, Chōji was the only person he couldn't ever see himself coming to serious blows with, verbal or otherwise. Whenever the risk of it happened, it always rocked him on the spot, inside and out – as if they'd already gone a round and got bloody in the process.

Ino mumbled something.

Shikamaru started at the sound, swallowed tightly and turned towards her.

The soles of his feet brushed softly across the mats.

His approaching steps were drowned out by her sniffles. She was attempting to ensconce herself into one corner of the couch with much effort but no effect. Shikamaru wasn't sure how she was managing to breathe, but her ragged sobs continued to carry from behind a matted tangle of blonde strands and folded arms.

"Ino," he called quietly.

Ino shook her head, or at least that's what it looked like. Shikamaru sighed and crouched down, feeling wretched and tired and…

Guilty.

He was pretty sure he hated that word with the full power of his 6,205 suns.

He hooked his arm over the curved end of the couch, the tips of his fingers hovering near the top of Ino's head. He sighed heavily – again – and offered an awkward little scratch to the top of her ponytail.

"Will you stop crying?"

"No," she muffled into the couch.

Shikamaru tried again, tapping her head with a bounce of his fingers. "You're troublesome."

Ino sniffed and turned her head, squinting through puffy, panda eyes and the plastering of her hair across her face. "You're a jerk," she slurred.

He shrugged, offering a crooked smile. "Yeah, probably."

"I love you."

Shikamaru stopped smiling.

It should have been funny to hear those words, given her vehement declarations of hatred a half hour before. He hummed a low 'hn' of amusement in the back of his throat, shaking his head.

"I love you a lot," Ino added.

"You're drunk," Shikamaru returned quietly, not knowing what else to say – not wanting to think about it.

Ino smiled goofily and then grimaced against the onslaught of more tears. "I want to go dancing."

Shikamaru arched a brow. "No more dancing."

"Did I go dancing?"

"Yeah. All over my foot."

And Kiba.

He frowned at the thought, leaving out the mental postscript.

Ino sniffled and pressed her cheek into the couch, peeking over the edge to try and glimpse said foot. "Did I hurt you?"

"My walk will never be the same again," he said dryly, trying to provoke a giggle to keep the tears at bay.

Ino grinned, but fat droplets leaked from the corner of her shining eyes. They glistened wetly across the bridge of her nose and pooled in a dark little puddle against the crimson seat. Shikamaru frowned, hooking a knuckle to follow the trail, awkwardly brushing away tears and flyaway strands still stuck to her face.

"Why are you crying anyway?" he muttered, trying to sound annoyed.

Ino scrunched her nose and sank her teeth into her bottom lip, worrying it viciously as her eyes began to fill again. "Because no one wants me …just me…for me…"

Shikamaru blinked rapidly. "What?"

Ino stared over his shoulder, glazed eyes focused on something he knew he wouldn't have seen even if he'd turned to look. He couldn't read her mind, but he knew she was digging around the corners of her inner Rubik's Cube.

"Mom was right," she whispered bitterly. "No one wants me…"

Shikamaru's eyes rounded. "Your mom told you that?"

Ino closed her eyes and turned her face into the crook of her arm. Shikamaru frowned, steering his focus out of its mental chug of exhaustion and onto whatever was left of his alertness. He wouldn't get this opportunity again.

Yamanaka-san. Ino's mother.

Think.

Like a profile lodged in some cerebral cabinet, he drew out whatever data his brain had stored on Ino's mother, mentally speed-reading the details.

Not a ninja. Skinny. Superficial. Pretty. Freaked out when Ino cut her hair as a Genin. Parents don't like her.

Well, Shikaku was a little more tactful about that. Yoshino, however, had no trouble enumerating the woman's lesser qualities of self-absorption. Yoshino's thumbnail sketch of Ino's mother was that the woman was shallow as a lily pond and wore rocks on her fingers large enough to choke babies. Added to that tally was the fact that she didn't seem to eat anything that overflowed an eggcup and scorned anyone who did – which didn't cast her in the most favourable light with the Akimichi's.

Shikaku's only complaint was more of an amused observation. One that he took great pleasure in needling Inoichi about. This centred on Ino's mother harbouring an unshakeable yet unfounded suspicion that her husband plotted and executed brilliant plans of infidelity behind her back every chance he got.

Considering it now, Shikamaru recalled a random conversation between his parents nine years ago; one that his young brain had automatically filed away into the Yamanaka mental cabinet.

"She honestly thinks he's straying, again?"

"Again."

"It's not funny, Shikaku. That woman."

"Inoichi's always flirted and she's always been paranoid. It's bound to happen."

"But that's nonsense, he's never been anything but dedicated from what you've told me and…Shikamaru, stop staring and eat your eggs."

"I don't like them."

"Eat them. That poor man. Inoichi should have up and left before he…before the stalk came."

"I know what that means, mom."

"Eat your eggs."

"He loves her, Yoshino."

"Why, because she looks gorgeous hanging off his arm?"

"No."

"Well regardless, imagine what she'll do to Ino. That poor girl."

Shikamaru blinked from the memory.

Immediately, one row in Ino's inner Rubik's Cube lined up. In one 'click', the colourful complications slid into place, allowing Shikamaru to follow the logic in an instant.

Why the hell didn't I figure this out earlier?

On the tail end of that question came the answer.

Because you didn't want to know.

Shikamaru ground his teeth against the guilty twist in his gut. He belatedly realised that Ino's gaze had drifted back to him, watery orbs squinting to bring him into focus.

Ino sniffed. "You're just the same…you think…I'm useless…"

"No. I don't," Shikamaru replied, ignoring the smudge of mascara on his fingers as he offered her his sleeve.

She grabbed his entire hand, tugging him forward to bury her head into the crook of his arm, sobbing again. "It's not fair…you have Chōji…I have…no one…"

"That's not true."

"My best friend…left me…for a boy…mom said she would...said I was…just competition…always a competition…she was right…about everything."

Shikamaru frowned, watching her quietly for a moment. "Sakura."

Ino went still, breath hitching in her throat.

"What do you know?" she hissed.

"More than I want to," he admitted, trying to ignore the soggy warmth of her tears soaking into his sleeve. "Not that you make much sense half the time."

Ino snapped her head up, glaring at him. "You…you're…so...ARGH!"

Shikamaru stared blankly.

"You don't get it! You…don't know…" She dropped her head and hissed the last word until her breath broke through the fibres of his top, almost searing his arm before she began to cry again.

Shikamaru frowned, trying to pull his arm back. Ino clutched hard enough to cut off his blood circulation.

Okay, that's not happening.

He gave up the attempt to draw back and shifted position instead, kneeling down. He leaned into the couch, not comfortable, but not cramping up just yet.

"No one understands…"

"I'm trying," he said very quietly. "You women are so damned complicated…"

Ino hiccupped, shaking her head. "Men are stupid."

Shikamaru smirked weakly at that. "Highly probable."

"You're supposed to be smart…" Ino charged, her voice shaking and still thick with tears.

"Apparently." He glanced sidelong at her. "Can I have my arm back now?"

Ino shook her head, salty streaks still streaming from her eyes. It was getting pretty painful to watch. More for the fact that Shikamaru knew she'd hate herself for it in the morning. He hoped she wouldn't remember. Judging by the glazed, aching, slightly confused stare she set on the floor, it was likely she'd forget.

But he wouldn't.

Got the cause for what's messed her up. Guess we can try to fix it now…

"I feel sick…" Ino mumbled.

Shikamaru immediately rocked away onto the balls of his feet. "If you throw up on me, I'll screw."

Ino giggled dopily. "Screw…"

Shikamaru ignored the echo, tugging his arm back to get a grip on her shoulders, levering her gently onto her feet. "Come on."

"Everything you're saying sounds dirty…"

Embarrassed, Shikamaru cleared his throat. "That's because your mind is twisted."

"Yours is twisteder…"

"That's not even a word."

"Is too," Ino scolded, wobbling unsteadily on her feet, looping her arms around his neck for balance. "Everything's spinning…"

"I'll bet." Shikamaru began to backpedal slowly, wincing when she stumbled into him and her knees buckled. "Shit!"

"Don't drop me, stupid." Giggles bubbled up inside her, riding over her tears before she sobered suddenly. "You always drop me…" she whispered.

Shikamaru froze for the split second it took his brain to put that into context. He shook his head, hefting her back up with a weak growl.

"It's not like that."

Ino stopped suddenly, lifted onto her toes and tightened her arms around his neck.

For a long awkward moment, Shikamaru just stood there.

Then, rather than shove her off, he begrudgingly set his hands at his hips, tilting forward to take the pressure off his spine as she hung off him like an albatross around his neck. Seriously, the drunken mood swings were even more troublesome to gauge than the typical pendulum shifts in her behaviour.

"I'm sorry, Shikamaru…"

Shikamaru went very still at the quiet apology. Those were always dangerous words in his mind, but it was the way she said it, in that small, contrite whisper.

He looked down at the top of her head, frowning. "Sorry?"

She nodded, tickling his face with her hair. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, wincing audibly as her arms tightened around his neck. "Okay, now there's pain…"

For some obscure reason, these words were like a knife through Ino's heart and she began to cry again. At a complete loss of how to deal with the situation, Shikamaru dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling, managing a tired, incredulous chuckle.

She bawled harder into his chest.

"Ino…" Shikamaru craned his neck back to escape the worst of the plaintive sounds, feeling increasingly bothered by the tears and his inability to work out why exactly they wouldn't stop.

Please stop crying…

Of their own volition his hands came up to settle on her shaking shoulders. Worse than her building sobs was the grinding sensation deep in his chest. Ino's sadness was starting to shift tender gears inside him, gears that he'd spent two weeks keeping slammed in reverse.

He ground his jaw, panic bolting through him.

I can't do this…

He caught movement out the corner of his eye.

Chōji stood at the other end of the room, a pile of gifts loaded into the cradle of his arms. "Your stuff is in your room down the hall."

Shikamaru gaped for a moment. "You left?"

Chōji grinned a little. "Yeah, only for a second. Sakura and Kiba brought the gifts up. How's she doing?"

Shikamaru widened his eyes imploringly, darting a glance at Ino's head. Chōji just smiled and tilted his brow towards the corridor beyond the tokonoma alcove.

"I turned her bed down," he said.

Shikamaru shot him a flat look. "Real helpful. Now how exactly do we…" he trailed off, jerking his head at Ino then towards the direction of the bedroom.

Chōji blinked, weighing up the options with a look of grave consideration. Then he hefted the gifts in his arms, hugged them closer to his chest and nodded. Shikamaru stared blankly, not following. Chōji repeated the little bounce and brace of his arms. Shikamaru caught on with wide eyes and chuckled raggedly, shaking his head.

"Nice suggestion. Count me out. You're doing it."

"But you're doing so well," Chōji praised teasingly, flicking his gaze between them.

Ino was still hanging off Shikamaru like he was her lifeline, her sobs interspersed with woozy groans and little hiccups that had her arms tightening like a noose.

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed. "If I lift her, she's gonna throw up all over me," he hissed through his teeth. "There's no recovering from that. It's not happening."

"You'll thank me for this," Chōji assured.

"Before or after she throws up all over me?"

"Ne, she's not that drunk."

Shikamaru glared, nudged Ino with his hip and almost sent her sprawling before he caught her around the waist. He shot Chōji a pointed look.

"Oh no, she's completely in control," he drawled sarcastically.

"Why did you do that?" Ino blubbered, looking like he'd just stomped over all the pieces of the heart she was crying out. "Why? You're so mean…"

Chōji chuckled. "So mean. I think you should carry her because you're such a mean jerk."

"Love the logic," Shikamaru smirked, inwardly relieved to have Chōji joking with him again – even if it was at his expense.

"Love you all…I love you, Chōji," Ino wept, overwhelmed by the profound love she'd suddenly developed for everyone. "I love you, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru sighed. "Don't say things like that."

Chōji laughed, peeking around the presents. "Why? It's cute."

"It's not cute," Shikamaru growled, not sure what the hell he truly felt about those three words being directed at him, no matter how platonic.

He bent at the knees very carefully and tried to work out the best way to pick Ino up.

This is so stupid…

Drawing a breath, he went for the band-aid method of haste over hesitation, hoping it would hurt less. With a swift drop of his shoulder he knocked Ino's balance, caught her under the knees and hefted her up bridal style, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Ino let out a little squeak of surprise, banded her arms around her stomach and groaned, dropping her head against his shoulder. "I don't feel well."

Shikamaru shot Chōji a meaningful glare. "Should I thank you yet?"

Chōji leaned into the wall for support as he laughed. "That won't stop projectile vomit, but you'll feel less mean."

"If its projectile, I'm aiming her at you." Shikamaru illustrated the threat by turning in Chōji's direction.

Chōji ducked behind the presents, laughter bubbling over his makeshift shield. Shikamaru couldn't contain the quiet chuckle that tumbled out of him, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the situation.

Ino's head lolled and she nuzzled against his neck. "I'm tired now."

"Not surprised," Shikamaru muttered gently, tipping his head back as she mumbled soppy affections against his jaw, turning towards the bedroom in a careful pivot. "Lights out for you."

The sallow glow of gas lamps illuminated the darkness, a sulphuric wash of yellow that seemed to rot before his eyes the deeper he stared into the room.

I know this place…

The lamps circled a wide pit, throwing stale light into a crude square. It had been dug into the centre of a large underground cellar.

Yes, he knew this place.

No…

The pit was deep and boarded at its circumference by planks of mouldy wood, the cracks splitting wide and dripping red.

So much red.

It's not real.

Shikamaru blinked against the sting of smoke.

A haze hung above the pit, thick and tainted.

Mildew, Shikamaru could smell it, underling various stenches. All of them crowding his nose and clogging in his throat. The sour stink of sweat, both animal and human, mixed with a whiff of alcohol and something chemical, all saturated into a heady pall of smoke.

His eyes burned, his lungs swelling with the stale, rancid air.

He tried to move but couldn't.

Then he was in the pit.

Fuck…

And something was pressing in against his legs, scratching at his skin. He tried to shift and something squelched and cracked and popped beneath his feet.

It's not real.

He looked down.

His eyes widened and his throat closed.

He was up to his knees in corpses.

The mangled bodies of rats and dogs and cats…jaws locked in ugly grimaces, fangs bared, gums black, tongues lolling, bodies warped and twisted at broken angles…maggots crawling…tufts of fur clumped in bloody clots…entrails scattered like thick, bloated worms…shrivelled carcasses bleeding out…

"We add brodifacoum…wrings them dry…"

He froze at the sound of that voice.

Everything inside him locked…only the panic moved…the pressure rising in the back of his throat…

This isn't real…

Canines and claws were sinking into his shins…

This isn't real.

Tails and bodies wrapping around his ankles…

Past…it's not real…

Above him, shadows danced, faces passed in and out of yellowed smoke, grotesque and distorted in the sickly light. Hands moved, ryo passed back and forth between thick, greedy fingers, bets were on and wagers were rising, voices began to build into a din.

The corpses began to move.

THIS ISN'T REAL!

Human teeth scraped against his ear. "Still game, kid?"

WAKE UP!

He did.

Shikamaru tore from the nightmare on a choked cry, rolling sharply onto his side. He gripped the edge of the bed, ducking his head down as if to retch. Nothing rode up or out of his throat but a juddering breath.

His heart beat like thunder.

Sweat dripped down his nose.

Sharp strands of black hung in his eyes, having escaped the mess of his ponytail. Had he been turning that much in his sleep? His stomach roiled, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. He held himself at the edge of the bed, dragging in air before shakily pushing upright. He ran his fingers through the hanging shards of his hair, slicking them back from his face.

Fuck…

He was shaking, inside anyway.

Dream…stupid fucking dream…not real…don't go there…it's not real…

He scanned the shadows, watched the phosphorescent streams of moonlight pool at the end of the guest bed.

Guest bed…Ryokan…Ino…Chōji…

He smoothed a hand over the futon's silk coverlet, his sweaty palm hitching the sheets.

Dream…

Shikamaru stripped off his damp t-shirt as he rose, the muscles of his torso rippling, ribs heaving as he panted. He set his feet firmly beneath him, flexing his toes on the plush carpet.

Should have gone to my own room…

He was just fortunate the luxury suites included a spare quarter for guests. Ignoring the chill of his cooling skin, Shikamaru rounded the futon and searched the cupboard for a yukata. He pulled out one of two burgundy robes, trying not to equate the bloody colour with anything from his dream.

Nightmare…

One he hadn't had in two years.

Securing the yukata, he slipped out of the guest quarter, passing along the corridor back into the main room. He could hear the gentle drone of the television, the abrasive glow from the screen the only light to guide his movements. Keeping to the shadows of the threshold, the young Nara braced his shoulder against the sliding frame, dark eyes settled on his teammates.

Chōji and Ino were sat on the couch.

Ino's head was tucked against the Akimichi's shoulder, legs curled beneath her and a dark blanket wrapped about her shoulders, flowing down over the edge of the couch along with her loose flaxen mane.

She seemed to be dozing.

Chōji however, remained alert, engaged by the staccato flashes going off on the screen, casting his fascinated expression in sharp relief. He was munching on a bowl of animal crackers set in Ino's lap. The Yamanaka muttered something. Chōji offered her a cracker and she turned her head into his shoulder with a groan.

Shikamaru smiled a little, moving out of the shadows.

Something moved with him.

It pulled against the fabric of his yukata, an odd static-sensation across his skin. Almost like chakra. He glanced down, frowning. The shadows seemed to swell and shrink back again, like black waters trying to draw him in.

Or was that a trick of the TV light? Or his mind?

Shaking off the sensation, he paced across the floor towards the couch. Ino lifted her head and blinked sleepily, looking up at him through puffy, red eyes.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," she scolded, still a little slurry.

Shikamaru arched a brow, his voice sleep-hoarse. "You too."

Ino leaned into Chōji, smiling. "Chōji's my pillow."

Chōji tilted his head up without taking his eyes off the screen. "Thought you'd blacked out," he teased.

Shikamaru shook his head, trying to ignore the images his mind kept trying to regurgitate. He slammed a mental door on it, bolting it down as best he could.

Distraction, that's what he needed right now.

He moved to sit on the floor, drawing one heel up to drape his forearm across his knee. Letting his focus settle on the screen, he began to try and focus on the film. Ino shifted behind him and he leaned forward to avoid a kicking as she readjusted her legs.

Then he felt her hand on his shoulder. "Your hair's come out."

Shikamaru shrugged her off. "Mn."

"Can I put it up for you?"

Chōji snorted. "No one touches the pineapple."

"Shut up," Shikamaru sighed, but his lips quirked a little.

Ino flicked some of the thick, sharp strands hanging by his jaw. Shikamaru tucked his shoulder to his ear defensively, scowling at the touch.

"Don't, Ino," he murmured.

"We used to stay up late as Genin and watch scary movies…" she said.

Shikamaru lowered his shoulder a degree, a fond look of remembrance flitting across his face. "Yeah."

"And you slept through them," Chōji pointed out, chuckling. "Even all the screaming. I was impressed."

"They all end the same," Shikamaru argued, reaching a long arm back to locate the bowl of crackers, needing something to stop the curdling in his gut.

Ino knocked his fingers away, sorted out all the deer-shaped crackers and placed them in his hand. "Your harem," she giggled.

Shikamaru snorted. "Witty. But these aren't hinds."

Ino pouted, forcing Chōji to save the bowl of crackers as she leaned forward to peer over Shikamaru's shoulder at the crackers in his palm. "Hinds?"

"Yeah, they're not does," the shadow-nin explained, tracing out the detail of antlers on the crackers with a brush of his finger. "See? Stags."

"Oooh."

Shikamaru smiled, offering her the cracker to examine.

"Daaw, it's a little shika."

Chōji hushed them. "Hey, hey, guy with a freaky mask, here comes the best part."

Surrendering another 'stag' to Ino for inspection, Shikamaru walked a cracker over the knuckles of his fingers like a coin, back and forth, back and forth.

He continued this way as he stared blankly at the screen.

For a full ten minutes he managed to follow the script, locked in that zoned out trance of lazy focus…focus that began to slide…until he was watching the actors move but paying no attention to the story or the dialogue. His eyes glazed over and the figures began to blur until the screen became a fuzzy haze on his periphery.

And then a different scene began to roll in his head.

One he'd spooled in the back of his mind and had kept on 'pause' for years.

Two years.

And suddenly it was a movie in motion, a reel of faded tape gaining definition.

No.

Flashes of the nightmare, phantoms from the past.

It's not real anymore.

Inverted images, the colours once drained…now bleeding back in again.

Stop.

He tried to hit 'pause' on his brain, struggling to rewind what was playing out. He knew the cerebral technique of disassociation. He'd learned it, executed it and perfected it within two weeks when he was fifteen.

Do it again. You know how to do this…

Shikamaru began to turn the cracker faster along his knuckles, his breathing picking up into a light pant, jaw locked, eyes losing focus.

Fuck…I can't…

"Shikamaru…"

Shikamaru jumped.

The cracker snapped between his knuckles.

The memories shrank to black in his mind, like the power cutting out.

Ino's fingertips planted spider-like on his head, shoving him a little to the left to get a better view of the TV as she adjusted her position.

"Scoot, Shikaaaa."

Too rattled to notice the abbreviation of his name, he leaned away and pushed to his feet, the little deer crackers slipping through his fingers.

"You okay?" Chōji asked, looking up.

"Yeah," Shikamaru nodded, sliding his fingers to his nape as he turned towards the doors leading out onto the veranda. "Just need some air."

Padding across the room, he pulled the paper doors back and slipped outside, sliding them shut behind him. The wind hit his skin like tiny needles, hooking the crossing hem of his yukata, pulling aside the fabric like cold fingers seeking his chest.

He didn't bother to tug the yukata back into place.

Stepping up to the edge of the balcony, he braced his forearms on the wooden balustrade and ducked his head low, reaching back to lace his fingers at his nape. He squeezed once, drawing and exhaling a long, slow breath through his nose.

Take it easy…

Lowering his hands, he straightened up a little.

Breathe…

As he coaxed his heart rate down, he surveyed the lantern lit gardens he and Temari had strolled through earlier, tracing the stone path with shuttered eyes. He followed the paving stones up and down with his gaze, finding distraction in their ordered placement but no peace. And then his gaze tracked skyward, inevitably drawn to the glowing sphere whitewashing the world below.

The moon wasn't quite full, a slim shadow cradling one side of it.

Shikamaru sucked a breath against the pang in his chest, fighting it back.

"Gods, you make me want to stop fighting…"

He clenched his eyes shut as the memory of that deep, sonorous voice rolled across his mind, aching through him.

"You make me crave a rest I cannot allow myself to need, Shikamaru."

Need. He felt it. Stirring up like embers, searing and stinging the raw organ beating heavy and hurting hard in his chest.

The sound of the doors sliding back tore him from the memory.

His lashes flickered open.

"I brought you tea," Ino announced, still sounding giddy.

He turned a little, tilting his jaw away from the waft of steam as she propped her arm on his shoulder, thrusting the teacup under his nose. The fragrant scent of jasmine carried in the vapour. Reaching up, he took the offered drink, the warm china thawing the chill from his fingers.

"Thanks," he croaked, raising it to his lips.

He didn't get a chance to take a sip. His teeth smacked against the rim as Ino slumped against his back, keeping her arm hooked over his right shoulder in a half-hug, the long bell sleeves of her purple yukata flapping on the breeze.

He didn't have the energy to shrug her off, too raw to get irritated, too tired to fight against an easy and uncomplicated affection, however unwarranted. He set his gaze out on the gardens.

"Can't sleep again?" Ino muttered against his shoulder.

Shikamaru pressed his lips. "Yeah…"

"Poor Shikamaru…you're gonna look horrible tomorrow…"

He smirked a little. "Thanks."

"It's your big brain…"

Shikamaru's breathing faltered for a moment, shivering the steam from his cup. "Ino…"

"Mmnhmm?"

He set his gaze on one of the lanterns below, guessing that now was the best time to ask her again. He'd be able to detect a lie easily enough and she'd have a harder time trying to think of one in her current state.

"Did you try to read me earlier?"

"You don't believe in signs…" she sighed.

"That's not what I mean. Did you try to probe my mind?"

"Pfft." Ino's snort stretched into a yawn. "I don't ever wanna get lost in your brain…"

He detected no lie - but garnered no answers.

Dammit.

Shikamaru stared unseeingly at the silhouette of a maple tree, ruthlessly pushing aside any immediate thoughts other than the cold facts, keeping his reaction to a minimum and responding only to the rational conclusions.

I'm tired. I hit my limit. I lost control. I've read enough about this crap to know.

He'd learned the lessons, understood how to apply the knowledge. The techniques that had worked time and again for the past two years had become subconscious and automatic. He just needed to rerun the methods through his mind on loop and ensure the patterns were ingrained deeper this time.

That's all I need to do.

Stupid. Simple.

As some of his tension slid away, he didn't hear the shoji doors sliding open. He didn't even see the semi-supersized hand until it was hovering beside him with a shabby camera perched between the large fingers. The plastic was cracked and scratched but the lens had survived.

Shikamaru slid his gaze across, shaking his head marginally. "Well I'll be damned."

"I occasionally amaze myself," Chōji's voice muffled through the shoji doors. "This angle kind of sucks though."

Shikamaru smiled, arching a brow as he studied the camera, raising his voice to carry over his shoulder. "How'd you get it?"

"The bird likes me," Chōji said.

"Troublesome."

"So come on. Just one shot of the birthday buddies."

"I want one," Ino mumbled drowsily.

Shikamaru arched a brow, glancing at her out the far corner of his eye.

The camera went off in a flash.

By the time the dots cleared from Shikamaru's vision, Chōji was retreating victoriously, laughing something that sounded curiously like 'one for the book'.

Book?

Ino yawned. "Happy Birthday, Shikamaru." She gave him a squeeze.

He grunted in response but didn't pull away.

An easy quiet settled, pulling sadness to Shikamaru's eyes that Ino couldn't see.

"You too," he eventually said.

TBC.

A/N: I apologise for any atrocious typos I may have missed. I'll comb through it again later, but am currently dead on my feet. Hope you enjoyed this cocktail chapter. Bit of Team 10 focus with Ino solving thrown into the mix. And Neji draws closer. Feedback deeply appreciated.

A/N (2): Brodifacoum - poison mentioned in BtB. Used to thin blood. Used as rat poison in less concentrated doses - anything more than that, go figure lol.

Techniques - A lot of the techniques that Shikamaru uses to control his thought processing are actual psychological and neurolinguistic programming techniques. Credibility FTW. Fun stuff.

REVIEWERS: You guys keep me chugging on. THANK YOU.
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