Sky on Fire: Walk Through Shadow -- Chapter 04
Title: Walk Through Shadow
Chapter: Self-Contemplation
Author/Artist: Killaurey
Word Count: 5889
Summary: Sidestory to Slow Burn. [Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy-himself.
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 4 of 7. Unbeta'd.
Go home and think.
Shikamaru was beginning to suspect Aunt Sadako had only told him that in the hopes that it would get him off her back for a few days. He shoved that thought down, he'd seen her around, and it was true that she had her life to put back together after being out on a mission for so long; he shouldn't begrudge her a few days of getting things back in order before she really taught him.
Besides, he thought, she'd given him more direction than the rest of his Clan put together. Not that it was any of their fault, and Shikamaru wasn't looking for a straw man to blame for it either, but all the same...
Rain poured down outside in a steely grey sheet; water hitting the ground so hard that it leapt back off the ground with a staccato pounding that made it hard to think. Which was precisely, he thought ruefully, what he was supposed to be doing. Think and decide if he wanted to go through with it. He had choices, Aunt Sadako had said, though one of the choices led to being stronger and the other led to turning away from everything that had been going on.
If he were honest with himself, turning away was an option that appealed. Who didn't, sometimes, want to close their eyes, pretend that everything was okay, and then open them--and find that everything really was okay?
But walking through shadow... there were things he'd gain too. Shikamaru rubbed his forehead and slumped back in his chair to stare blankly out the window his desk sat at as rain lashed the glass to the point where trying to see out of it was nearly impossible.
Go home and think.
He wasn't sure where to begin. He'd listened to her when she'd explained how he'd have to walk through his own shadow and he was still... more than a little dubious about that idea. Shadows weren't doorways to anywhere, after all. He'd never heard of anyone having the ability to do something like that at all. That, he thought, standing and closing the book he'd been pretending to read with a slam, was the crux of it.
There was no proof.
For all he knew, Aunt Sadako was pulling an elaborate prank on him. She certainly seemed enthusiastic enough; Shikamaru could easily imagine her as having been a trouble-maker back when she'd been in the Academy. Grown up during a war she definitely had but everything he'd ever heard pointed to the fact that war or not, kids didn't particularly hesitate about causing pranks on one another.
All the same, she'd seemed serious enough, and it would be a difficult proposition to come up with hours and hours worth of discussion material just in case he'd decided to ask a question that didn't entirely stick with the script she'd prepared. Shikamaru leaned out his window, gazing down at the yard, and wondered if the rain would ever stop. He had little inclination to go out in the rain when it wasn't for a job.
Shikamaru glanced at the book sourly. It was a cover--an excuse in case his mother came looking for him to put him to work. If he just stayed and thought the way that Aunt Sadako had put it then he'd never manage to find any time and peace alone. It would be either 'get to training' or 'come help with this' or 'what are you doing' every ten-fifteen minutes. He was not a fan.
Not, he admitted, that his mother had much to complain about when it came to his room lately. It was cleaner than normal, even for him. One of the things he'd done while up after a nightmare. He frowned, crossed his room and flopped down on his bed to stare up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. The nightmares were even worse lately and he had the vague suspicion that it had to do with whatever had taken his shadow away from him in the temple.
As he'd suspected, it hadn't shown up until he'd been making to walk out, and after that had remained relatively peaceful, compared to before; but the nightmares had been worse.
And Odd-Ino had been making less sense than her usual.
Despite himself, Shikamaru grinned at that. So he had issues, did he? Well, Odd-Ino wasn't doing a very good job at getting them across. Which he knew was quite possibly because he'd controlled his subconscious enough to wind up with that result. If she wasn't getting through to him then she'd have to stick around. It was an utterly insane idea. Shikamaru had a funny feeling that it was one that he'd latched on to in the parts of his mind that weren't entirely in control. He didn't know what else there was to blame for the fact that she'd started getting odder after he'd learnt more about her.
You listen to her. He'd been told that and while he wasn't sure how much he listened to her, Shikamaru wasn't sure what other explanation he had for Odd-Ino appearing in his head.
Well.
He was a teenage boy. Shikamaru could think of several other reasons, not that he'd tell Ino that, the look on her face would be priceless but the beating she'd give him after wasn't worth the expression... and he wasn't even sure he'd want to get a reaction over that. He didn't know where they stood these days, let alone go forward and say something like that when it was true...
The fact remained, though, despite what other things he could think of as being an 'option', was the plain fact that Odd-Ino never did anything but serve him tea, sit and babble at him, and cry sometimes. Not the sort of thing, he thought wryly, that fantasies were made of.
He shook his head. "This is getting me nowhere," Shikamaru said to his empty room, and sighed. He wished he could talk to Chouji, even if it wasn't about this situation--this was covered, so far covered that it was all but buried by the Clan Confidential. Even if Chouji had been here, it would have been worth more than his life to talk about this--all the same, it would have been nice to have his friends around.
I think, he realized, that I'm bored.
If someone had told him that he'd get bored of peace and quiet and not having to do anything but think his own thoughts, train when he wanted to, help out when his family sought him out as another set of free hands... Shikamaru would have laughed just a few weeks ago.
Are you crazy? He could picture himself saying that. That sounds like paradise to me.
Funny how it seemed more like a prison sentence now.
Pushing himself up, Shikamaru crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees as the wind howled around them. Today there'd only be a few of the Clan out with the deer, mostly making sure that they stayed away from areas that had become dangerous and unsound since the last major storm. He doubted they'd have work for him. Not unless he wanted to patch up some of the gear that was always being used.
That was a good idea, he decided, as a particularly strong gust of wind made the window panes rattle and the rain got so heavy he couldn't even see the street light directly across from him. What had Aunt Sadako said? Idle hands brought about idle thoughts. Shikamaru didn't actually mind that philosophy. A few days of being stuck indoors were enough to make anyone think that, he figured, when there was nothing to do.
For every action there was an equal reaction. Shikamaru supposed that it was fair of his subconscious to decide that if he were going to finally, really truly and after so much effort and time spent hoping for peace, that he was going to be bored with the peace and quiet he'd hoped for…
Someone, he was sure, thought it was a great joke indeed.
That someone was not Shikamaru, however, and he rolled his shoulders back, trying to work out kinks that had come from being too inactive for the past few hours, that was what happened when he read after all, and set his book down on his desk. Rubbing one hand through his hair, he headed out of his room in search of finding someone with something for him to do. Unusual train of thinking for him, he admitted, but then-his normal routine of things was not working.
When it's broken, fix it. Ignoring something like that, something so potentially important… was sheer stupidity. Shikamaru would gladly and honestly own up to being lazy, but only Ino got to say he was stupid.
His lips quirked at that. Perhaps that was what Aunt Sadako had meant when she'd said that he'd listen to her? Another thing to consider, though what use was it when all he had was Odd-Ino and Odd-Ino… wasn't Ino. Didn't have her fire.
The leap then was easy to make as he wondered what that was supposed to mean. Did it mean that, as it was from his subconscious, that he didn't have the same sort of fire as she did-Shikamaru knew that one was no contest, he lived as a shinobi but he didn't care who else beat him unless it was on a mission and then, then he had no plans for anyone to beat him.
Otherwise, though, he was easily content to live and let live and leave the jostling and struggling for position and favour to others.
He stretched and continued down the dark hall, his feet silent on the wooden floor, and kept his ears alert for any conversation. Where people were, he'd be able to find work. In a clan the size of Nara there was always something to be done.
It only remained, he thought wryly, for someone to want to do the work. That was the issue there. But if he got work then maybe then he'd be able to better think about what Aunt Sadako had told him to consider.
Think of the pros and cons of each option, she'd said, eyes deadly serious and that more than anything was what kept him convinced that it wasn't just a game that was being played for her amusement.
Think, Aunt Sadako had said, and don't forget that this is a decision that once it's made, boy, can't be undone. There is no going back. You can tie your shadow more closely to your emotions, gaining some powers and weaknesses that other Nara do not have, or you can seal your shadow away so that it's nothing more but a pale imitation of the shadows the rest of our Clan hold--a shadow that is perfectly serviceable, mind you, but well... I'm biased. I made my choice, you understand and I've never regretted it.
He could tell, just feeling for the chakra signatures that his parents were in the kitchen and almost absently he turned to head that way. If his father could not be convinced to give him something to study then his mother would surely have chores for him--Shikamaru knew he didn't even have to actually ask. Just go in, laze about, and his mother would find him something to do in short order.
...it was strange, in a way, to know that about her and love her for it even when ordinarily it drove him half mad. Perhaps, Shikamaru wondered, that too was part of growing up. If it was like that then he could handle that part of it. More than he'd proven in other areas, unfortunately.
A leader, that's what being a Chuunin meant he had to be, and Shikamaru wondered if it was pathetic of him to hope that Ino and Chouji became Chuunin as well--just so that he didn't have to lead them. That had been a disaster from the start. He could lead, but not them. Chouji was easy enough to handle most of the time, though even there he'd been mucking it up spectacularly, but Ino...
Ino loathed being commanded by him. Shikamaru, thinking back on it, could recall more than once when her eyes had almost seemed to glow with fury at some order or another and he thought now that maybe that was some of it. She was someone who had to be in command or who would rather work alone. Funny that, he mused, when all three of them were known for their teamwork. He could work within a template, Ino needed to control the template, and Chouji was the only one of them with the patience truly needed for teamwork as the Academy defined it.
Not for the first time since they'd gone, he found himself wondering the odds of Ino and him being able to pass Hatake-sensei's bell test if they'd not had Chouji. They hadn't passed it when Asuma-sensei had tried it with Hatake-sensei, but then there'd been more issues at hand than simply having to start out from the bottom up.
From the bottom up...
Shikamaru paused, foot an inch from the stair, and then shook his head. From the bottom up gave him an idea but it wasn't fully fledged enough to actively poke at and he resigned it to the back of his mind and continued down the stairs, fully confident in his plans to keep busy.
If Ino knew she'd probably laugh herself sick.
Shikamaru found himself smiling at that thought. Laughter was a better reaction by far than having her yell at him for something that might or might not have been a real slight. Not, he admitted, that he was blameless.
Could he help it if it was fun to piss her off?
She reacted so easily. He virtuously told himself that it was for her own good, that staying that easy to goad would only make for major weaknesses down the road, but Shikamaru knew that that was just a justification for something that amused him.
"-I thought Sadako-chan-" His mother's voice drifted up the stairs.
"She did," his father answered, the words sounding a bit stiff to Shikamaru's ears. "Before the damned fox attacked us; Iwa bastards-"
Something in his father's voice had Shikamaru frowning as he very carefully slipped down the last few stairs to walk as silently as he could. Long familiarity meant he knew to avoid which floorboards squeaked and groaned under weight. He knew better than to dampen his signature, though.
In a Clan like his, it was the absence of a signature that stood out more than the presence of one. Leaving his signature the way it usually was made him more invisible than suddenly disappearing off the mental map of the house would ever do in his home. As long as he left it, Shikamaru knew his parents would be aware that he was in the house and not think to look any further.
(It was a scheme he'd used more than once at a younger age to creep down and take food in the middle of the night. It had only taken a few tries before he realized what had to be the cause of his mother catching him some of the time and yet not other times. Experience came in all sorts of ways.)
Closer, now, to the door to the kitchen--but not too close, or his parents would sense him; both of them were trained and higher ranked than he was even if his mother had mostly retired from active duty--Shikamaru could hear his mother clearly now.
He didn't have to see his mother to know that she likely had her hands on her hips. Her sigh of exasperation and the hint of real worry in her voice said it all. "Then how is he-"
"I don't know," his father interrupted, just as weary as his mother had sounded. Just as worried. On some level, that bothered Shikamaru more than the fact that his mother was worried.
His mother always found something to worry about, after all. Shikamaru was half convinced that she did it deliberately, just to have something to do, even if it didn't seem like she enjoyed worrying very much.
His father… only worried about the important things.
"I don't know," his father repeated, "I've been checking into things, but nothing is turning up with any answers. Have you noticed his shadow, though?"
"The way it's not grabbing for everything in sight now?" That sounded more than a little wry. "I have and it's a blessing--you think it's connected?"
His father's laugh didn't have more than a tinge of humour in it. "That's just grasping at straws. Just, it's not... she couldn't... it doesn't make sense..."
Shikamaru frowned at that. They were talking about him, that was for sure, and Aunt Sadako as well. That was a pretty cold thing, he thought, to say that your sister wasn't supposed to be hanging around the Clan when she'd just gotten back from a mission that had been long and hard--she didn't even have to tell him that the mission had been hard, after all, it was clear in her face.
"If she'd not," his mother demanded, "then what are we supposed to do? You've noticed the way he's going around-"
"Yes." Shikamaru blinked at the force in his father's voice. That was almost worse than the fact that he was worried. Nara Shikaku was not prone to being forceful if it wasn't a life or death situation. "I'm aware of how he's going around, Yoshino."
"What can we do about it? If other people notice…"
"That could, if I didn't know you so well, sound almost cruel," his father answered, and from the thwap of cloth, Shikamaru guessed that his mother had whacked his dad with a dishtowel. "Dammit, woman, that stung. I know what you mean, alright?"
His mother's answer was a murmur and Shikamaru decided abruptly that he didn't really want to interrupt them.
Sneaking away from the kitchen entrance and ghosting his way back up the stairs, Shikamaru resumed walking normally and headed down another hall to see if he could find one of the cousins instead.
They'd probably have leathers for him to mend, if nothing else, and that was easier to deal with than having to brave getting sent outside-not in the weather they were having, and not when he actually wanted to be able to concentrate. The rain would just knock all other thoughts but his physical misery out of his mind.
Pure genius, he thought, amused. Right.
After the hours of fruitlessly mending worn leathers and pondering what his father and mother had been talking about Shikamaru was almost grateful when it became late enough that going to bed would go unremarked upon--the last thing he wanted was anyone thinking he was coming down with something. That would only lead to fussing and he wasn't in the mood for dealing with any of that.
He stretched out on his bed, hair down and quickly brushed if only because the tangles in the morning were far worse if he took no care at all in his nightly routine, Shikamaru closed his eyes and settled in to just think. But exhaustion came quickly, eliminating his plans to consider his options further with a heavy whack over the head like a hammer and he tumbled asleep almost before he'd even realized that, yes, he was tired. So tired.
As his eyes slid shut he thought that he heard Aunt Sadako's voice.
--
Sadako leaned in the doorway and watched Shikamaru sleep for a few minutes, her face tired before she lifted her shoulders in a shrug-so much for asking him to train-and headed downstairs, making no attempt to hide her passage. Boots clicked on the steps as she all but bounced down them and made her way to the kitchen.
Where her brother and his wife were talking. "You know," she said breezily, wandering in and over to their fridge as if they hadn't fallen abruptly silent at her entry. "I seem to recall someone telling me it was rude to talk about others when they weren’t around, Shikaku."
That had been him, back when they'd been kids and he'd gone through a phase where he'd loathed anyone talking about him.
The silence continued behind her as she helped herself to some iced tea and leaned back against the counter to study Shikaku and Yoshino. She raised her eyebrows. "No one's going to argue with me?" Well. She could get used to that.
Her brother sighed, looking ill at ease and peculiarly happy all at the same time. Yoshino just stared at her blankly. "Sit down, Sada. Please."
"Only because you asked nicely," Sadako replied, and flopped down in the nearest chair. "Being nice will get you far."
Yoshino's lips were starting to twitch up in what might've been a smile. Score one for me, Sadako thought comfortably as she settled in to see what her brother might have to say to her.
And to set a few things straight. It was past time she'd done that.
--
When he slept and then woke to the white room in his head, Shikamaru found himself completely unsurprised by the fact that the table in this room resembled the one that sat in his kitchen. Odd-Ino, as was her wont, hadn't arrived quite yet and he had the place to himself, as much as his mind was his own anyway. He took that time to study the table and consider the fact that it was, down to the scrapes and small burns and worn spots on the top of it, the exact twin of the one in his kitchen.
"Does that mean," he asked, not really expecting an answer, "that if I do something to this table, it'd affect the real one?"
It was an idle question, vaguely interesting, but kept him from commenting on the first several thoughts that had sprung to mind at the sight of it. Shikamaru tentatively pulled out on of the chairs, making sure to avoid the one that in the waking world was rickety and halfway to falling over, and sat down half expecting to get sucked into a nightmare immediately.
Nothing happened.
The chair felt like real wood under his hands even though he knew it was just something he'd created in his sleep and Shikamaru took his time in glancing around the rest of the room to see if everything was... in order as much as it could be here. The tapestry was gone; it had disappeared after the one and only time that he'd seen it. He wondered what that meant, the fact that it could and would just leave.
Did that mean he'd learnt whatever lesson he'd been supposed to take away from it?
Something to ask Aunt Sadako, he decided, though that would depend on his answer to the dilemma that she'd posed for him. Asking him to think things through first. He sighed and carefully tapped the table, hoping that it wouldn't suck him into anything, and was relieved to find that for the moment at least, the table was perfectly steady, secure, and in all ways ordinary.
Except for the fact that it was here, in his dream-land, where he was only nominally in control. His subconscious had a greater role to play here than he really cared for. If only to himself, Shikamaru could readily admit that he could have lived quite happily without ever having to deal with the fact that his waking mind was still, at least partially, a slave to the deeper levels of himself.
That sort of emotional crap was for girls. How much introspection had he done in the last few days? More than he'd done ever before, Shikamaru was sure of it; there was a major difference between always thinking about something and actually navel gazing about yourself. Facts and emotion--two significantly different realms of thought and he'd been quite happy in the one he'd stuck to previous.
Now it seemed as if he had no choice in what to think about. Not with Aunt Sadako's options dangling over him like a fishing rod with particularly tasty bait.
"How would you like your tea?" Odd-Ino asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts. Shikamaru lifted his head to look across the table at her.
Tonight she was wearing a pale green kimono, with a pink obi--she looked like a flower and the baby's breath that were embroidered on the kimono bore out that resemblance more than a little. Shikamaru wryly thought that, had he not known her, he wouldn't have particularly bothered with knowing what sort of flower that was. But hanging out with Ino meant picking up a bit about flowers if only in self-defence.
And some of them were actually rather nice, not that he'd admit it.
"As is," he answered and she bowed her head, blonde hair spilling down her back, over the floor and the gesture allowed him to see that her hair piece was made of the same flowers that were done up in thread on her outfit. The whole thing, her sitting at his kitchen table, in a room of white, and looking as frail as any spring bud, made him wonder if Odd-Ino could get sick and tired as well. "Are you alright?"
She peered up at him through long lashes, blue eyes amused. "I am as alright as you are," Odd-Ino answered, pouring his tea deftly and setting the cup out in front of him. Shikamaru didn't bother asking where she'd gotten the things, the one time he'd asked, before Aunt Sadako had given him a better idea of what was going on in his mind, he'd only wound up more confused than ever at her meandering answers.
Compared to that, this one was practically an open book.
"I'm sorry," he replied, taking up his tea. "I've had a few things on my mind."
"Things don't do much to help if nothing is put into action." She poured her own cup, just as neatly, but added a bit of honey to hers all the while managing to keep the trailing sleeves of her clothing from getting anywhere near the hot liquid.
"You're getting blunter," Shikamaru noted, amused despite himself at that. "Two months ago you wouldn't have said anything nearly that straightforward."
She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand what he'd meant by that. He sipped his tea and leaned back in the chair. It was just the way he liked it; that seemed fitting to Shikamaru--if they were going to be in his head then why shouldn't he have food and drink that were to his liking? Though, admittedly, he wasn't sure how in control of that he was either.
"Action," Odd-Ino said, "is the heart and soul of reality."
"No point," he answered lazily. "Reality is what a person makes it."
"What do you make of it?" she asked, sipping at her tea and looking coolly serene.
Shikamaru too his time in thinking about that. Then had to laugh a bit. "Not much different than what you said," he admitted, "but I didn't like your phrasing. Half a point to you, and I take the other half?"
Blue blue eyes stared at him, measuring him, Shikamaru had the sense that he was being judged on more than what he looked like in that moment. "I concede half a point to you," Odd-Ino replied. "Your tea will grow cold if we quibble about points excessively."
"It was your idea to add points in the first place," he pointed out, taking the hint as it was and drinking more of his tea. It wasn't anywhere near cool. "I can only play by the rules of the game you set."
"Only my rules? That just means you haven't been paying attention." Odd-Ino sighed, hair twisting like a shadow would as it wound itself around the back of the chair next to her. She didn't seem to notice what her hair was doing but Shikamaru certainly did.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight. "New hair?"
"Do you like it?" she asked coyly. "It's almost the same as the original, just different enough to be noticeable."
Shikamaru sighed and gestured with his tea cup. "Please," he said, "go on." He could already tell where she was going with this, after all. Odd-Ino, it seemed, was perfectly in line with what he'd been thinking earlier anyway.
From the bottom up…
"From the bottom up," she echoed and he didn't know if it was deliberate or not; Odd-Ino's guileless eyes were no way to judge the situation. "Some things are the same, some things are different. It's like growing a tree-they split off in all different directions. The branches are all part of the whole and the different branches make the tree strong for whoever heard of a tree with only one branch?"
She looked so very sincerely puzzled by that question that Shikamaru stifled the urge to chuckle. He didn't know whether to be pleased or not that he had no problems following her trail of thought.
"I understand what you're trying to say," he assured her, before she could fuss about that and get more deeply confusing. "I'm considering my options right now-if I were a tree, I'd be trying to decide which way I wanted my branches to grow. I can't grow in every which direction."
Odd-Ino gave him a brilliant smile at that. "That would only lead to sickness," she said agreeably. "But so too, does staying in place make for a slow death. Stagnation. You'd gain bugs to your swamp."
"Bugs aren't my thing," he said as he raised his cup to finish it off.
The moment the cup touched his lips the world swirled around him, wavering and then reconstructing as he fell weightlessly away from the table and Odd-Ino (who was still drinking tea in the distance) and he roundly cursed the fact that he was headed straight for another nightmare.
When he woke up, just past three, sweat-soaked, heart beating too fast, and feeling as if he hadn't slept at all, Shikamaru knew that he'd come to his conclusion about the choices that he'd been offered. He didn't know which was the right one and that irked him more than slightly, but moving forward was the only way to go and even Odd-Ino had been firm enough about that.
Shikamaru could take a hint. Especially when it came into his own mind and wore the face of one of his teammates.
He rubbed his hands through his hair and got himself back under control. Listening for the rain and hearing only silence, Shikamaru scrambled out of bed and went to the window. The ground glistened under the light of the moon--but the rain had stopped and the sky was crystal clear. He leaned against the wall and let the coolness of it and the soft drifts of air from the window--no matter how they sealed it, every winter, without fail, it managed to be drafty--blow against his skin. It was soothing on several levels. He didn't want to go back to bed, sleeping would be an impossibility, especially after a dream and nightmare like that.
Which was, he thought, depressingly par for the course.
His room was dark, the faint light of the moon not enough to really illuminate it, not with the curtains half drawn, and Shikamaru made his way over to the light switch by instinct alone. His feet didn't step on anything, not that there was much on the floor, and when he flicked the light on he squinted and waited patiently for his eyes to adjust. He'd have to remake his bed, he thought, and then...
Then he'd get to packing. Shikamaru didn't know exactly what he'd need for going to the temple for a stretch of a few days but he was betting heavily that some sort of food would be needed, ration packs then, and he'd have to pack a few changes of clothing. No need to go mission light, he'd put in a bit more variety, as Shikamaru was sure that his aunt would have told him had they been planning to leave the village for a mission of any sort.
And she'd just said that they'd be going to the temple. Thinking as he moved to strip his bed down, the sheets were damp with sweat and would have to be washed, Shikamaru silently got to work.
As he worked he tried to decide how to break the news to his parents. Shikamaru wasn't sure, still, what had been behind the conversation that he'd overheard part of the day before, but he knew good and well that that sort of conversation didn't bode well for how they'd take the fact that he wanted to go off for a few days with Aunt Sadako. He didn't know what they were having issues with, though, she'd been just like normal to him.
He flung his sheets in the laundry hamper and quickly began remaking his bed. Aunt Sadako hadn't done anything different than usual from what he could tell, he decided, she'd always been cheerful and a bit ridiculous and that was just... how she was. What had they been going on about him--about what others might think? Shikamaru lifted up one of his shirts and shrugged.
There were no holes in it. Nothing for the neighbours to complain about then.
Packing his things didn't take very long--years of practice standing him in good stead there--and once that was done, the clock not yet at four in the morning, Shikamaru sat down on his newly made bed, picked up one of the books that his father had given him to read about shadows and settled in to pass the time in a peaceful manner. The book gave him something to focus on and before he knew it, it was just past seven and the sun was coming up.
Listening for the sounds of his parents, Shikamaru nodded his satisfaction as he slid the book back into place on the shelf and stood, pulling his packs over his shoulder and headed out the room. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, he leaned against the door frame and watched his parents for half a second before they noticed him.
"Morning," he said, figuring that getting it over with was the best idea. "Aunt Sadako said I could come train with her for a few days."
His father's jaw tightened and his mother frowned.
"Is that going to be a problem?" Shikamaru asked, shifting the pack. "We're not going that far."
"It's no problem," his father said neutrally. "Be careful, would you, son?"
"Believe me," Shikamaru said, pushing away from the door. "I don't think I could be anything but."
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Chapter: Self-Contemplation
Author/Artist: Killaurey
Word Count: 5889
Summary: Sidestory to Slow Burn. [Shikamaru centric] While Ino is off in Kumogakure for the Chuunin Exams, Shikamaru's nightmares worsen and his control over his shadow unravels. Getting it together again means facing his worst enemy-himself.
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 4 of 7. Unbeta'd.
Go home and think.
Shikamaru was beginning to suspect Aunt Sadako had only told him that in the hopes that it would get him off her back for a few days. He shoved that thought down, he'd seen her around, and it was true that she had her life to put back together after being out on a mission for so long; he shouldn't begrudge her a few days of getting things back in order before she really taught him.
Besides, he thought, she'd given him more direction than the rest of his Clan put together. Not that it was any of their fault, and Shikamaru wasn't looking for a straw man to blame for it either, but all the same...
Rain poured down outside in a steely grey sheet; water hitting the ground so hard that it leapt back off the ground with a staccato pounding that made it hard to think. Which was precisely, he thought ruefully, what he was supposed to be doing. Think and decide if he wanted to go through with it. He had choices, Aunt Sadako had said, though one of the choices led to being stronger and the other led to turning away from everything that had been going on.
If he were honest with himself, turning away was an option that appealed. Who didn't, sometimes, want to close their eyes, pretend that everything was okay, and then open them--and find that everything really was okay?
But walking through shadow... there were things he'd gain too. Shikamaru rubbed his forehead and slumped back in his chair to stare blankly out the window his desk sat at as rain lashed the glass to the point where trying to see out of it was nearly impossible.
Go home and think.
He wasn't sure where to begin. He'd listened to her when she'd explained how he'd have to walk through his own shadow and he was still... more than a little dubious about that idea. Shadows weren't doorways to anywhere, after all. He'd never heard of anyone having the ability to do something like that at all. That, he thought, standing and closing the book he'd been pretending to read with a slam, was the crux of it.
There was no proof.
For all he knew, Aunt Sadako was pulling an elaborate prank on him. She certainly seemed enthusiastic enough; Shikamaru could easily imagine her as having been a trouble-maker back when she'd been in the Academy. Grown up during a war she definitely had but everything he'd ever heard pointed to the fact that war or not, kids didn't particularly hesitate about causing pranks on one another.
All the same, she'd seemed serious enough, and it would be a difficult proposition to come up with hours and hours worth of discussion material just in case he'd decided to ask a question that didn't entirely stick with the script she'd prepared. Shikamaru leaned out his window, gazing down at the yard, and wondered if the rain would ever stop. He had little inclination to go out in the rain when it wasn't for a job.
Shikamaru glanced at the book sourly. It was a cover--an excuse in case his mother came looking for him to put him to work. If he just stayed and thought the way that Aunt Sadako had put it then he'd never manage to find any time and peace alone. It would be either 'get to training' or 'come help with this' or 'what are you doing' every ten-fifteen minutes. He was not a fan.
Not, he admitted, that his mother had much to complain about when it came to his room lately. It was cleaner than normal, even for him. One of the things he'd done while up after a nightmare. He frowned, crossed his room and flopped down on his bed to stare up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. The nightmares were even worse lately and he had the vague suspicion that it had to do with whatever had taken his shadow away from him in the temple.
As he'd suspected, it hadn't shown up until he'd been making to walk out, and after that had remained relatively peaceful, compared to before; but the nightmares had been worse.
And Odd-Ino had been making less sense than her usual.
Despite himself, Shikamaru grinned at that. So he had issues, did he? Well, Odd-Ino wasn't doing a very good job at getting them across. Which he knew was quite possibly because he'd controlled his subconscious enough to wind up with that result. If she wasn't getting through to him then she'd have to stick around. It was an utterly insane idea. Shikamaru had a funny feeling that it was one that he'd latched on to in the parts of his mind that weren't entirely in control. He didn't know what else there was to blame for the fact that she'd started getting odder after he'd learnt more about her.
You listen to her. He'd been told that and while he wasn't sure how much he listened to her, Shikamaru wasn't sure what other explanation he had for Odd-Ino appearing in his head.
Well.
He was a teenage boy. Shikamaru could think of several other reasons, not that he'd tell Ino that, the look on her face would be priceless but the beating she'd give him after wasn't worth the expression... and he wasn't even sure he'd want to get a reaction over that. He didn't know where they stood these days, let alone go forward and say something like that when it was true...
The fact remained, though, despite what other things he could think of as being an 'option', was the plain fact that Odd-Ino never did anything but serve him tea, sit and babble at him, and cry sometimes. Not the sort of thing, he thought wryly, that fantasies were made of.
He shook his head. "This is getting me nowhere," Shikamaru said to his empty room, and sighed. He wished he could talk to Chouji, even if it wasn't about this situation--this was covered, so far covered that it was all but buried by the Clan Confidential. Even if Chouji had been here, it would have been worth more than his life to talk about this--all the same, it would have been nice to have his friends around.
I think, he realized, that I'm bored.
If someone had told him that he'd get bored of peace and quiet and not having to do anything but think his own thoughts, train when he wanted to, help out when his family sought him out as another set of free hands... Shikamaru would have laughed just a few weeks ago.
Are you crazy? He could picture himself saying that. That sounds like paradise to me.
Funny how it seemed more like a prison sentence now.
Pushing himself up, Shikamaru crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees as the wind howled around them. Today there'd only be a few of the Clan out with the deer, mostly making sure that they stayed away from areas that had become dangerous and unsound since the last major storm. He doubted they'd have work for him. Not unless he wanted to patch up some of the gear that was always being used.
That was a good idea, he decided, as a particularly strong gust of wind made the window panes rattle and the rain got so heavy he couldn't even see the street light directly across from him. What had Aunt Sadako said? Idle hands brought about idle thoughts. Shikamaru didn't actually mind that philosophy. A few days of being stuck indoors were enough to make anyone think that, he figured, when there was nothing to do.
For every action there was an equal reaction. Shikamaru supposed that it was fair of his subconscious to decide that if he were going to finally, really truly and after so much effort and time spent hoping for peace, that he was going to be bored with the peace and quiet he'd hoped for…
Someone, he was sure, thought it was a great joke indeed.
That someone was not Shikamaru, however, and he rolled his shoulders back, trying to work out kinks that had come from being too inactive for the past few hours, that was what happened when he read after all, and set his book down on his desk. Rubbing one hand through his hair, he headed out of his room in search of finding someone with something for him to do. Unusual train of thinking for him, he admitted, but then-his normal routine of things was not working.
When it's broken, fix it. Ignoring something like that, something so potentially important… was sheer stupidity. Shikamaru would gladly and honestly own up to being lazy, but only Ino got to say he was stupid.
His lips quirked at that. Perhaps that was what Aunt Sadako had meant when she'd said that he'd listen to her? Another thing to consider, though what use was it when all he had was Odd-Ino and Odd-Ino… wasn't Ino. Didn't have her fire.
The leap then was easy to make as he wondered what that was supposed to mean. Did it mean that, as it was from his subconscious, that he didn't have the same sort of fire as she did-Shikamaru knew that one was no contest, he lived as a shinobi but he didn't care who else beat him unless it was on a mission and then, then he had no plans for anyone to beat him.
Otherwise, though, he was easily content to live and let live and leave the jostling and struggling for position and favour to others.
He stretched and continued down the dark hall, his feet silent on the wooden floor, and kept his ears alert for any conversation. Where people were, he'd be able to find work. In a clan the size of Nara there was always something to be done.
It only remained, he thought wryly, for someone to want to do the work. That was the issue there. But if he got work then maybe then he'd be able to better think about what Aunt Sadako had told him to consider.
Think of the pros and cons of each option, she'd said, eyes deadly serious and that more than anything was what kept him convinced that it wasn't just a game that was being played for her amusement.
Think, Aunt Sadako had said, and don't forget that this is a decision that once it's made, boy, can't be undone. There is no going back. You can tie your shadow more closely to your emotions, gaining some powers and weaknesses that other Nara do not have, or you can seal your shadow away so that it's nothing more but a pale imitation of the shadows the rest of our Clan hold--a shadow that is perfectly serviceable, mind you, but well... I'm biased. I made my choice, you understand and I've never regretted it.
He could tell, just feeling for the chakra signatures that his parents were in the kitchen and almost absently he turned to head that way. If his father could not be convinced to give him something to study then his mother would surely have chores for him--Shikamaru knew he didn't even have to actually ask. Just go in, laze about, and his mother would find him something to do in short order.
...it was strange, in a way, to know that about her and love her for it even when ordinarily it drove him half mad. Perhaps, Shikamaru wondered, that too was part of growing up. If it was like that then he could handle that part of it. More than he'd proven in other areas, unfortunately.
A leader, that's what being a Chuunin meant he had to be, and Shikamaru wondered if it was pathetic of him to hope that Ino and Chouji became Chuunin as well--just so that he didn't have to lead them. That had been a disaster from the start. He could lead, but not them. Chouji was easy enough to handle most of the time, though even there he'd been mucking it up spectacularly, but Ino...
Ino loathed being commanded by him. Shikamaru, thinking back on it, could recall more than once when her eyes had almost seemed to glow with fury at some order or another and he thought now that maybe that was some of it. She was someone who had to be in command or who would rather work alone. Funny that, he mused, when all three of them were known for their teamwork. He could work within a template, Ino needed to control the template, and Chouji was the only one of them with the patience truly needed for teamwork as the Academy defined it.
Not for the first time since they'd gone, he found himself wondering the odds of Ino and him being able to pass Hatake-sensei's bell test if they'd not had Chouji. They hadn't passed it when Asuma-sensei had tried it with Hatake-sensei, but then there'd been more issues at hand than simply having to start out from the bottom up.
From the bottom up...
Shikamaru paused, foot an inch from the stair, and then shook his head. From the bottom up gave him an idea but it wasn't fully fledged enough to actively poke at and he resigned it to the back of his mind and continued down the stairs, fully confident in his plans to keep busy.
If Ino knew she'd probably laugh herself sick.
Shikamaru found himself smiling at that thought. Laughter was a better reaction by far than having her yell at him for something that might or might not have been a real slight. Not, he admitted, that he was blameless.
Could he help it if it was fun to piss her off?
She reacted so easily. He virtuously told himself that it was for her own good, that staying that easy to goad would only make for major weaknesses down the road, but Shikamaru knew that that was just a justification for something that amused him.
"-I thought Sadako-chan-" His mother's voice drifted up the stairs.
"She did," his father answered, the words sounding a bit stiff to Shikamaru's ears. "Before the damned fox attacked us; Iwa bastards-"
Something in his father's voice had Shikamaru frowning as he very carefully slipped down the last few stairs to walk as silently as he could. Long familiarity meant he knew to avoid which floorboards squeaked and groaned under weight. He knew better than to dampen his signature, though.
In a Clan like his, it was the absence of a signature that stood out more than the presence of one. Leaving his signature the way it usually was made him more invisible than suddenly disappearing off the mental map of the house would ever do in his home. As long as he left it, Shikamaru knew his parents would be aware that he was in the house and not think to look any further.
(It was a scheme he'd used more than once at a younger age to creep down and take food in the middle of the night. It had only taken a few tries before he realized what had to be the cause of his mother catching him some of the time and yet not other times. Experience came in all sorts of ways.)
Closer, now, to the door to the kitchen--but not too close, or his parents would sense him; both of them were trained and higher ranked than he was even if his mother had mostly retired from active duty--Shikamaru could hear his mother clearly now.
He didn't have to see his mother to know that she likely had her hands on her hips. Her sigh of exasperation and the hint of real worry in her voice said it all. "Then how is he-"
"I don't know," his father interrupted, just as weary as his mother had sounded. Just as worried. On some level, that bothered Shikamaru more than the fact that his mother was worried.
His mother always found something to worry about, after all. Shikamaru was half convinced that she did it deliberately, just to have something to do, even if it didn't seem like she enjoyed worrying very much.
His father… only worried about the important things.
"I don't know," his father repeated, "I've been checking into things, but nothing is turning up with any answers. Have you noticed his shadow, though?"
"The way it's not grabbing for everything in sight now?" That sounded more than a little wry. "I have and it's a blessing--you think it's connected?"
His father's laugh didn't have more than a tinge of humour in it. "That's just grasping at straws. Just, it's not... she couldn't... it doesn't make sense..."
Shikamaru frowned at that. They were talking about him, that was for sure, and Aunt Sadako as well. That was a pretty cold thing, he thought, to say that your sister wasn't supposed to be hanging around the Clan when she'd just gotten back from a mission that had been long and hard--she didn't even have to tell him that the mission had been hard, after all, it was clear in her face.
"If she'd not," his mother demanded, "then what are we supposed to do? You've noticed the way he's going around-"
"Yes." Shikamaru blinked at the force in his father's voice. That was almost worse than the fact that he was worried. Nara Shikaku was not prone to being forceful if it wasn't a life or death situation. "I'm aware of how he's going around, Yoshino."
"What can we do about it? If other people notice…"
"That could, if I didn't know you so well, sound almost cruel," his father answered, and from the thwap of cloth, Shikamaru guessed that his mother had whacked his dad with a dishtowel. "Dammit, woman, that stung. I know what you mean, alright?"
His mother's answer was a murmur and Shikamaru decided abruptly that he didn't really want to interrupt them.
Sneaking away from the kitchen entrance and ghosting his way back up the stairs, Shikamaru resumed walking normally and headed down another hall to see if he could find one of the cousins instead.
They'd probably have leathers for him to mend, if nothing else, and that was easier to deal with than having to brave getting sent outside-not in the weather they were having, and not when he actually wanted to be able to concentrate. The rain would just knock all other thoughts but his physical misery out of his mind.
Pure genius, he thought, amused. Right.
After the hours of fruitlessly mending worn leathers and pondering what his father and mother had been talking about Shikamaru was almost grateful when it became late enough that going to bed would go unremarked upon--the last thing he wanted was anyone thinking he was coming down with something. That would only lead to fussing and he wasn't in the mood for dealing with any of that.
He stretched out on his bed, hair down and quickly brushed if only because the tangles in the morning were far worse if he took no care at all in his nightly routine, Shikamaru closed his eyes and settled in to just think. But exhaustion came quickly, eliminating his plans to consider his options further with a heavy whack over the head like a hammer and he tumbled asleep almost before he'd even realized that, yes, he was tired. So tired.
As his eyes slid shut he thought that he heard Aunt Sadako's voice.
--
Sadako leaned in the doorway and watched Shikamaru sleep for a few minutes, her face tired before she lifted her shoulders in a shrug-so much for asking him to train-and headed downstairs, making no attempt to hide her passage. Boots clicked on the steps as she all but bounced down them and made her way to the kitchen.
Where her brother and his wife were talking. "You know," she said breezily, wandering in and over to their fridge as if they hadn't fallen abruptly silent at her entry. "I seem to recall someone telling me it was rude to talk about others when they weren’t around, Shikaku."
That had been him, back when they'd been kids and he'd gone through a phase where he'd loathed anyone talking about him.
The silence continued behind her as she helped herself to some iced tea and leaned back against the counter to study Shikaku and Yoshino. She raised her eyebrows. "No one's going to argue with me?" Well. She could get used to that.
Her brother sighed, looking ill at ease and peculiarly happy all at the same time. Yoshino just stared at her blankly. "Sit down, Sada. Please."
"Only because you asked nicely," Sadako replied, and flopped down in the nearest chair. "Being nice will get you far."
Yoshino's lips were starting to twitch up in what might've been a smile. Score one for me, Sadako thought comfortably as she settled in to see what her brother might have to say to her.
And to set a few things straight. It was past time she'd done that.
--
When he slept and then woke to the white room in his head, Shikamaru found himself completely unsurprised by the fact that the table in this room resembled the one that sat in his kitchen. Odd-Ino, as was her wont, hadn't arrived quite yet and he had the place to himself, as much as his mind was his own anyway. He took that time to study the table and consider the fact that it was, down to the scrapes and small burns and worn spots on the top of it, the exact twin of the one in his kitchen.
"Does that mean," he asked, not really expecting an answer, "that if I do something to this table, it'd affect the real one?"
It was an idle question, vaguely interesting, but kept him from commenting on the first several thoughts that had sprung to mind at the sight of it. Shikamaru tentatively pulled out on of the chairs, making sure to avoid the one that in the waking world was rickety and halfway to falling over, and sat down half expecting to get sucked into a nightmare immediately.
Nothing happened.
The chair felt like real wood under his hands even though he knew it was just something he'd created in his sleep and Shikamaru took his time in glancing around the rest of the room to see if everything was... in order as much as it could be here. The tapestry was gone; it had disappeared after the one and only time that he'd seen it. He wondered what that meant, the fact that it could and would just leave.
Did that mean he'd learnt whatever lesson he'd been supposed to take away from it?
Something to ask Aunt Sadako, he decided, though that would depend on his answer to the dilemma that she'd posed for him. Asking him to think things through first. He sighed and carefully tapped the table, hoping that it wouldn't suck him into anything, and was relieved to find that for the moment at least, the table was perfectly steady, secure, and in all ways ordinary.
Except for the fact that it was here, in his dream-land, where he was only nominally in control. His subconscious had a greater role to play here than he really cared for. If only to himself, Shikamaru could readily admit that he could have lived quite happily without ever having to deal with the fact that his waking mind was still, at least partially, a slave to the deeper levels of himself.
That sort of emotional crap was for girls. How much introspection had he done in the last few days? More than he'd done ever before, Shikamaru was sure of it; there was a major difference between always thinking about something and actually navel gazing about yourself. Facts and emotion--two significantly different realms of thought and he'd been quite happy in the one he'd stuck to previous.
Now it seemed as if he had no choice in what to think about. Not with Aunt Sadako's options dangling over him like a fishing rod with particularly tasty bait.
"How would you like your tea?" Odd-Ino asked, her voice breaking into his thoughts. Shikamaru lifted his head to look across the table at her.
Tonight she was wearing a pale green kimono, with a pink obi--she looked like a flower and the baby's breath that were embroidered on the kimono bore out that resemblance more than a little. Shikamaru wryly thought that, had he not known her, he wouldn't have particularly bothered with knowing what sort of flower that was. But hanging out with Ino meant picking up a bit about flowers if only in self-defence.
And some of them were actually rather nice, not that he'd admit it.
"As is," he answered and she bowed her head, blonde hair spilling down her back, over the floor and the gesture allowed him to see that her hair piece was made of the same flowers that were done up in thread on her outfit. The whole thing, her sitting at his kitchen table, in a room of white, and looking as frail as any spring bud, made him wonder if Odd-Ino could get sick and tired as well. "Are you alright?"
She peered up at him through long lashes, blue eyes amused. "I am as alright as you are," Odd-Ino answered, pouring his tea deftly and setting the cup out in front of him. Shikamaru didn't bother asking where she'd gotten the things, the one time he'd asked, before Aunt Sadako had given him a better idea of what was going on in his mind, he'd only wound up more confused than ever at her meandering answers.
Compared to that, this one was practically an open book.
"I'm sorry," he replied, taking up his tea. "I've had a few things on my mind."
"Things don't do much to help if nothing is put into action." She poured her own cup, just as neatly, but added a bit of honey to hers all the while managing to keep the trailing sleeves of her clothing from getting anywhere near the hot liquid.
"You're getting blunter," Shikamaru noted, amused despite himself at that. "Two months ago you wouldn't have said anything nearly that straightforward."
She blinked at him, almost as if she didn't understand what he'd meant by that. He sipped his tea and leaned back in the chair. It was just the way he liked it; that seemed fitting to Shikamaru--if they were going to be in his head then why shouldn't he have food and drink that were to his liking? Though, admittedly, he wasn't sure how in control of that he was either.
"Action," Odd-Ino said, "is the heart and soul of reality."
"No point," he answered lazily. "Reality is what a person makes it."
"What do you make of it?" she asked, sipping at her tea and looking coolly serene.
Shikamaru too his time in thinking about that. Then had to laugh a bit. "Not much different than what you said," he admitted, "but I didn't like your phrasing. Half a point to you, and I take the other half?"
Blue blue eyes stared at him, measuring him, Shikamaru had the sense that he was being judged on more than what he looked like in that moment. "I concede half a point to you," Odd-Ino replied. "Your tea will grow cold if we quibble about points excessively."
"It was your idea to add points in the first place," he pointed out, taking the hint as it was and drinking more of his tea. It wasn't anywhere near cool. "I can only play by the rules of the game you set."
"Only my rules? That just means you haven't been paying attention." Odd-Ino sighed, hair twisting like a shadow would as it wound itself around the back of the chair next to her. She didn't seem to notice what her hair was doing but Shikamaru certainly did.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight. "New hair?"
"Do you like it?" she asked coyly. "It's almost the same as the original, just different enough to be noticeable."
Shikamaru sighed and gestured with his tea cup. "Please," he said, "go on." He could already tell where she was going with this, after all. Odd-Ino, it seemed, was perfectly in line with what he'd been thinking earlier anyway.
From the bottom up…
"From the bottom up," she echoed and he didn't know if it was deliberate or not; Odd-Ino's guileless eyes were no way to judge the situation. "Some things are the same, some things are different. It's like growing a tree-they split off in all different directions. The branches are all part of the whole and the different branches make the tree strong for whoever heard of a tree with only one branch?"
She looked so very sincerely puzzled by that question that Shikamaru stifled the urge to chuckle. He didn't know whether to be pleased or not that he had no problems following her trail of thought.
"I understand what you're trying to say," he assured her, before she could fuss about that and get more deeply confusing. "I'm considering my options right now-if I were a tree, I'd be trying to decide which way I wanted my branches to grow. I can't grow in every which direction."
Odd-Ino gave him a brilliant smile at that. "That would only lead to sickness," she said agreeably. "But so too, does staying in place make for a slow death. Stagnation. You'd gain bugs to your swamp."
"Bugs aren't my thing," he said as he raised his cup to finish it off.
The moment the cup touched his lips the world swirled around him, wavering and then reconstructing as he fell weightlessly away from the table and Odd-Ino (who was still drinking tea in the distance) and he roundly cursed the fact that he was headed straight for another nightmare.
When he woke up, just past three, sweat-soaked, heart beating too fast, and feeling as if he hadn't slept at all, Shikamaru knew that he'd come to his conclusion about the choices that he'd been offered. He didn't know which was the right one and that irked him more than slightly, but moving forward was the only way to go and even Odd-Ino had been firm enough about that.
Shikamaru could take a hint. Especially when it came into his own mind and wore the face of one of his teammates.
He rubbed his hands through his hair and got himself back under control. Listening for the rain and hearing only silence, Shikamaru scrambled out of bed and went to the window. The ground glistened under the light of the moon--but the rain had stopped and the sky was crystal clear. He leaned against the wall and let the coolness of it and the soft drifts of air from the window--no matter how they sealed it, every winter, without fail, it managed to be drafty--blow against his skin. It was soothing on several levels. He didn't want to go back to bed, sleeping would be an impossibility, especially after a dream and nightmare like that.
Which was, he thought, depressingly par for the course.
His room was dark, the faint light of the moon not enough to really illuminate it, not with the curtains half drawn, and Shikamaru made his way over to the light switch by instinct alone. His feet didn't step on anything, not that there was much on the floor, and when he flicked the light on he squinted and waited patiently for his eyes to adjust. He'd have to remake his bed, he thought, and then...
Then he'd get to packing. Shikamaru didn't know exactly what he'd need for going to the temple for a stretch of a few days but he was betting heavily that some sort of food would be needed, ration packs then, and he'd have to pack a few changes of clothing. No need to go mission light, he'd put in a bit more variety, as Shikamaru was sure that his aunt would have told him had they been planning to leave the village for a mission of any sort.
And she'd just said that they'd be going to the temple. Thinking as he moved to strip his bed down, the sheets were damp with sweat and would have to be washed, Shikamaru silently got to work.
As he worked he tried to decide how to break the news to his parents. Shikamaru wasn't sure, still, what had been behind the conversation that he'd overheard part of the day before, but he knew good and well that that sort of conversation didn't bode well for how they'd take the fact that he wanted to go off for a few days with Aunt Sadako. He didn't know what they were having issues with, though, she'd been just like normal to him.
He flung his sheets in the laundry hamper and quickly began remaking his bed. Aunt Sadako hadn't done anything different than usual from what he could tell, he decided, she'd always been cheerful and a bit ridiculous and that was just... how she was. What had they been going on about him--about what others might think? Shikamaru lifted up one of his shirts and shrugged.
There were no holes in it. Nothing for the neighbours to complain about then.
Packing his things didn't take very long--years of practice standing him in good stead there--and once that was done, the clock not yet at four in the morning, Shikamaru sat down on his newly made bed, picked up one of the books that his father had given him to read about shadows and settled in to pass the time in a peaceful manner. The book gave him something to focus on and before he knew it, it was just past seven and the sun was coming up.
Listening for the sounds of his parents, Shikamaru nodded his satisfaction as he slid the book back into place on the shelf and stood, pulling his packs over his shoulder and headed out the room. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, he leaned against the door frame and watched his parents for half a second before they noticed him.
"Morning," he said, figuring that getting it over with was the best idea. "Aunt Sadako said I could come train with her for a few days."
His father's jaw tightened and his mother frowned.
"Is that going to be a problem?" Shikamaru asked, shifting the pack. "We're not going that far."
"It's no problem," his father said neutrally. "Be careful, would you, son?"
"Believe me," Shikamaru said, pushing away from the door. "I don't think I could be anything but."
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