Break to Breathe | By : Okami-Rayne Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 1958 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
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. |
BREAK TO BREATHE
by Okami Rayne
Chapter Nine
The smouldering end of the cigarette flared amber in the darkness. Coils of smoke drifted up to hang in a haze above Shikamaru's head, almost milky in the dim light filtering through his room.
He cocked his head against his pillow, finding patterns in the smoke much as he did when he cloud-gazed. Sleep wouldn't come and he couldn't be bothered to read or focus on anything that required him to move from his futon. So he'd lit a cigarette from the packet he hadn't gotten round to handing over to Asuma. Just to create some makeshift clouds. That's how the conspiracy crap with the cigarettes had started really. If he couldn't find clouds, he'd make them. Occasionally he'd bring the cigarette to his lips and take a drag; only to expel the toxin in gentle rings to form more patterns to gaze at, rather than to get a kick from the nicotine; unless he needed the distraction. He'd known it was a stupid thing to start, just to watch smoke, but considering how smart he was expected to be most of the time, it could only be healthy and human to have a detrimental habit. That Hyūga's becoming a detrimental habit… He smirked at the thought, shaking his head as a thin stream of smoke wafted from his lips. Neji had declined the sedatives earlier, opting for a bit of mediation before sleep. Shikamaru hadn't pushed the matter, choosing a mutual ceasefire in their normally strategic banter. As much as he shirked confrontation, it was hard to resist the intelligent repartee with the Hyūga. Neji could hold his intellectual ground and while Shikamaru had no real motivation or fondness for physical combat unless pushed, cerebral challenges were his forte. Not an excuse to get tangled up this shit… 'This shit' currently lacked definition. He had no intention of naming it. Shikamaru sighed as he twisted his wrist to stare at the cigarette slotted between his fingers. The glowing ember reflected in the depths of his irises as he studied the shrivelling ash, eventually tracking his gaze back up to the soupy swirl of smoke. Pale and enigmatic. Neji's eyes came to mind, rather abruptly. Troublesome. Those damned eyes; so hard to read yet so impossible to not want to figure out. Just like clouds, stormy one minute, serene the next - gossamer emotion barely skimming the surface before it was whipped away on a gale of pride or decorum. Shikamaru had to smile self-depreciatingly, because the amount of adjectives running through his head suggested that he might be getting quixotic – which was the most inappropriate adjective in relation to his own personality. When the hell did I start thinking like a fucking girl? He brushed his finger across the burning end of the cigarette, almost searing his skin. Good. It was a brief, stupid distraction from a lasting, even more stupid thought. Neji. Dammit. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that he could still feel Neji's skin beneath his fingertips, or the fact that this probably meant something. Both were equally troublesome thoughts; the denominator of all his problems being Neji's ability to kick-start a reaction where he wanted nothing but idle, lazy, familiar stillness. Not this hassle... He'd have blamed Hinata, but knew that was just pathetic. He had no one and nothing to blame but that masochistic little part of his brain that kept prompting him to do what he hated doing under any other circumstances – sticking his neck out when it was avoidable. Yep. I've officially lost my sanity. Too bad…could have smart-assed my way to Jōnin and got everyone off my damn back…what a drag… He didn't have time to finish the idle train of thought before an odd feeling tightened in the pit of his stomach. He caught his breath at the odd sensation. He couldn't explain it, which was probably the only reason he bothered to pay it attention. Ash dropped from the end of his cigarette onto his chest. The fuzzy glow of his alarm clock drew his gaze just as the numbers changed. 4:00 AM Then he heard it.Pain tore him from his sleep like fangs ripping out his lungs.
Neji's eyes flew open as he choked on a gasp. No! Not again… He rammed his elbows into the mattress, pushing his chest away from the futon as he hacked out a cough that splattered red onto the pillow. No… He shoved himself up to kneel, the yukata falling open as his hand slammed to his chest, fingers digging against his pale skin, almost clawing at himself in a desperate attempt to stop the stabs of agony ripping through his system like lightning. Stop. Stop. Stop. He could taste the tang of copper on his tongue, the spatter of blood on the pillow plunged panic into his heart. A wild attempt to channel chakra he didn't have into his fingertips almost ripped out a cry of agony from his throat, but it was drowned out by the loud crack of the fusuma door being wrenched open. He didn't hear it. His vision tunnelled to spots of red and bursts of white flaring in and out of darkness. He could feel unconsciousness trying to pull him in one direction and pain in the other. Stop… Then there was another sensation; right on the periphery of this terrifying chaos. It felt like hands on his shoulders…tugging him back against the support of a body… Fingers carving through his hair…the scent of nicotine…and words fanning out in a soft mantra against his ear… "Breathe, Neji…breathe…breathe…"
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