Chapter Text
“I may put you on a pedestal, but I'm not your fall from grace
Maybe I enjoy the punishment, maybe I enjoy the chase
You say you love me in the darkness, but in the day I am denied
Baby, it's alright, you can use me anytime...
It doesn't really matter if I only fill the space
Of someone you've not forgotten
Of someone who's gone away”
“So he left.”
Naruto finished his monologue as Shikamaru lit another cigarette, standing by his friend’s window, keeping the smoke from invading the room as if it had any right to. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dance with the late-afternoon wind, drifting toward the sun already setting behind the surrounding buildings.
“It was expected, wasn’t it?”
Shikamaru knew very well about Naruto’s involvement with Sasuke, even if not everyone else did. The Uchiha was always so discreet—it was a miracle Naruto and his big mouth had managed to keep it all a secret. But Shikamaru knew. Not because he had seen anything; he had simply always known. He could recognize Naruto’s desire for Sasuke, the desperation to catch his attention and keep him close. Shikamaru was far too observant for something like that to slip past him. He also noticed that no matter how sullen and indifferent the Uchiha could be, there was still a trace of desire he didn’t quite bother to hide.
“Shikamaru…”
The voice cut through him, making Shikamaru close his eyes before finally turning toward Naruto. “He really left.”
Shit. What had he expected? From the beginning he had known about Sasuke’s restlessness, about his thirst to become more, to gain more power—so he could avenge his family by, guess what, killing what remained of it.
Shikamaru scratched the back of his neck as he watched Naruto close his eyes and stare at the floor. A lone tear slid down his face before finally finding its resting place on the ground. The blond was broken—and Shikamaru felt just as shattered watching him like that. Helpless in the face of someone else’s pain, not knowing how to comfort him—if that was even possible when the heart seemed to split open, tear apart, and ache all at once.
He sat down beside him. The cigarette had long been extinguished on the windowsill, lying there half-burned. His legs crossed in front of him as if he were meditating, hands resting on his thighs while he took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully before speaking.
“If you keep acting like this, people will start to suspect.”
That wasn’t exactly how he had planned to begin, but sometimes a reality check was necessary. If Naruto and Sasuke had worked so hard for so long to keep it secret, he wouldn’t be the one to ruin it now—especially not when Naruto would have to deal with everything alone.
“I’ll manage. I’ve always handled things on my own anyway. In the end, nothing really changed, did it?”
His voice carried a bitterness that seemed to burn in his throat.
“You’re wrong.”
He stood up. It was irritating how, in moments like that, adrenaline seemed to eat away at him from the inside, pushing him not to stay still. Annoying, to say the least.
Naruto was wrong. He hadn’t been alone for a long time.
Shikamaru had never cared that one of the tailed beasts had been sealed inside the boy. To him, Naruto was just… someone. Someone who deserved his attention as much as any other child. He never pushed him away—quite the opposite. He had always tried to bring him closer, because Naruto had been alone.
Shikamaru was one of the faces Naruto remembered from those early years. The lazy smile that accepted playing, even if he preferred lying down and watching the clouds while Naruto ran around burning off his endless energy—only to collapse beside him, exhausted. Countless times Shikamaru had brought enough lunch for two to school.
Naruto had been an idiot to claim he was alone. Even now, right there, he wasn’t.
But he was always blind to that. It seemed that in his world nothing mattered except Sasuke—and Shikamaru realized it when he stood up and lit another cigarette. He complained about the other’s insensitivity, and yet, look at that—he was acting the exact same way.
“My mistake. You’ve always been with me. I’m the one who doesn’t want to put even more weight on your shoulders.”
How old were they? Sixty each? They sounded like two old men talking about a lifetime of mistakes. About the harsh weight they carried on their backs.
They had been friends for so long that Shikamaru no longer saw it as a burden. It wasn’t something “troublesome” anymore—although, somehow, it only made things more complicated with time.
Naruto watched Shikamaru’s back. He was still wearing his vest, having just returned from a mission, and instead of going home to rest after delivering his report to the Hokage, he was here—proving himself to be the loyal friend Naruto didn’t even deserve to have, but desperately needed.
“Shika…” he tried—God, how he tried. He searched for a tone that wasn’t soaked in pain, but his voice betrayed him. The weight that seemed to suffocate his chest, crush his heart, and make it ache was all there, carried in his voice, while a hollow smile sadly lingered on his lips.
Shikamaru saw the reflection in the glass. He saw sadness swallow the other man just as he swallowed the cigarette. Smoke filled his airways, burning his throat as it settled briefly in his lungs, poisoning everything with nicotine. It clouded his mind as he held his breath for as long as he could, trying not to cough.
This wasn’t the first time. But he wished so badly that it would be the last.
He wanted Naruto to stop falling for Sasuke’s charms. He wanted his friend to be strong enough to stand his ground and say “no.” He wanted him to stop throwing himself headfirst at the smallest sign that the other had changed—when everyone knew that was impossible. Not when there was a thirst for revenge. Not when his heart was restless and refused to grow attached to anyone, not even Naruto.
“Do you think he left because he doesn’t love me?”
The question came out of nowhere—so suddenly that Shikamaru choked on the next drag of his cigarette. He squeezed his eyes shut as the smoke left his mouth in a careless stream, hoping it wouldn’t sting his eyes.
And now that. How was he supposed to answer that?
There was no way to respond to something so personal without his answer affecting Naruto’s decisions from that moment on—and that wasn’t his place. Not at all. As much as he wanted to knock some sense into his friend, who among them could really do that? Shikamaru was known as someone with superior intellect, but good judgment sometimes failed him too. He couldn’t impose anything on Naruto when, in certain moments, he lacked that same judgment himself.
“Shikamaru, tell me.”
Shit.
His mind was clouded—not by the cigarette burning between his lips, but by the answers he wanted to give and the ones he could never say under any circumstances.
“You know he’ll always choose revenge, Naruto. It’s stronger than him. Stronger than anything else he might feel.”
Superficial. It was the best answer he could give without losing his composure and shouting for Naruto to drop that damn addiction once and for all. Where was all this going to lead? It wasn’t right to suffer like that for someone who barely even saw him.
And he really wished he were only talking about Naruto—and not about himself.
“You don’t have to be so harsh with your words.”
“No? I wasn’t harsh, Naruto—I’m being honest. There’s a difference. You’ve idealized a version of Sasuke that doesn’t exist, only in your heads. You, Sakura, even Ino for a long time—you all saw something in him that isn’t there. He’s not the kind of person who stays by your side when everything seems to fall apart. He’s not the guy who’s going to give up the revenge he wants against the last remaining member of his family. I didn’t live through what he went through, and I wouldn’t wish to. But this is already bordering on the absurd—on madness!”
He was speaking with his heart open, his mind throwing words straight to his lips without the filter he usually had. Maybe it was the cigarette. Maybe it was the sight of Naruto’s broken expression reflected in the window. Maybe it was the sunset bringing the dimness of night along with it. There were many explanations that could fit that moment.
But the real one was simple: he couldn’t take it anymore.
Shikamaru was suffocating under all the years he had spent standing beside Naruto, holding him up whenever his friend’s world seemed to collapse—only for it not to fall apart completely because he helped keep it standing.
He lit another cigarette. It was bordering on an addiction, that was clear. But he didn’t always smoke this much. In fact, he had started only recently, yet the smoke already felt strangely familiar—maybe it was Asuma’s fault. The man was always smoking, and the smell had long stopped bothering him. In fact, it brought a strange sense of peace, a kind of clarity to his mind—even if it clouded it when he took drags too quickly.
Still, that poison was preferable to the one sitting on the floor of the room, arms wrapped around his legs, because once again some idiot had left him behind.
There was such a thing as secondhand suffering. He had heard Ino say that once—claiming she suffered secondhand every time Sakura did. At the time, he hadn’t understood what she meant.
Unfortunately, now he did. And he hated every time it happened.
The ridiculous part was that both he and Ino suffered secondhand whenever Sasuke pulled some kind of crap.
His mind assaulted him with embarrassing memories of the time he and Ino had tried to be more than friends. After all, they were both suffering over people who were suffering for the same guy. In the middle of a drag, he could almost feel the touch of the blonde’s lips against his again—like a bitter memory. Not because it had actually been bad, but because it hadn’t sparked any real interest in him. Because it hadn’t made him feel the urge to kiss her as if his sanity depended on it.
Ino had laughed after that kiss, saying the same thing he was thinking. There was affection there, plenty of it—but that was to be expected. They were friends, after all.
He didn’t even notice he was smiling at the memory of that fateful day—not because of the passionless kiss, but because he wondered what it would actually feel like to kiss someone he held feelings for that were stronger than the empathy born from friendship.
“I think you’re right.”
The blond’s voice sounded steadier now as he got to his feet and walked toward Shikamaru, touching his shoulder to make space for himself by the window as well. He took the cigarette from Shikamaru’s lips and brought it to his own, inhaling the smoke before quickly making a face of disapproval at the burning sensation that came with it.
“Damn, this is awful!”
The cough came out loud as he leaned over the window, trying to pull fresh air into his lungs. He handed the cigarette back to Shikamaru, making a mental note never—ever—to try that again. It was awful, unbearable.
Feeling him there, so close and yet so distant, while the late-afternoon wind swept into the room, bringing a chill with it, while Naruto beside him seemed to radiate heat—living flames.
When had he started placing him on that untouchable pedestal? Since when had his friend made his interest in the Uchiha so obvious? Or had it been before all of that? Back when he didn’t even understand what he was feeling—or why he felt anything at all? In that moment of cold wind and smoke being blown into his face, he had no answers to any of his questions.
“You should smoke less,” Naruto said, turning to look at him, even though Shikamaru still chose to stare out the open window.
“I don’t always smoke like this. Only when something is really… out of my control.”
“I know you must be tired, and that you’d rather be home, where everything would be less complicated.”
His attempt to break the tension from the earlier conversation brought a smile to his own lips. Shikamaru had to admit Naruto had a gift for pulling everyone into whatever feeling he wanted to create. And right then, it was relief.
There was nowhere else he wanted to be.
He had placed him on that pedestal a long time ago, but now he could see that Naruto wasn’t the cause of his fall from grace. He never had been. Probably never would be. Maybe, deep down, Shikamaru liked the feeling of punishment that came with desiring someone who didn’t desire him back. Maybe that was the appeal people talked about when they mentioned sadomasochism. Maybe the punishment was the pleasure of someone who could never truly satisfy themselves by having what they wanted.
“I don’t see a problem with being here with you. At least this way I know you’re not doing anything you might regret later.”
Naruto should have noticed it before—the care Shikamaru showed toward him. The tenderness hidden in his words, even when his friend sounded bitter whenever the topic turned to the one who had left by his own choice.
He caught himself actually noticing him.
The way his lips pressed around the cigarette. The way his index and middle fingers brushed his lips whenever he brought the cigarette to them or pulled it away. How his thumb almost touched the corner of his mouth. How he licked his lips after blowing the smoke away, blinking a little more slowly afterward.
He didn’t notice when he leaned against the window, or when he crossed his arms in front of his body, standing almost face-to-face with Shikamaru, studying his lashes and the chocolate-brown color of his eyes.
“Lose something? Or is this your new way of kicking me out? Staring at me until I get uncomfortable and leave?”
“No!” The denial came far too quickly, just as Naruto startled himself and grabbed Shikamaru’s arm with both hands. The truth was he didn’t want to be alone right then. He didn’t trust himself for that. “I was just… noticing how you’ve changed.”
“That didn’t happen overnight, Naruto.”
No, it hadn’t. But Naruto didn’t have eyes for many things when Sasuke was around—circling his mind like a leech, draining away everything else. He had been too lost thinking about someone who barely gave him the time of day.
What else had he lost along the way?
“Are you seeing someone? I mean, I don’t want to be rude, but…”
“You don’t?” His look was inquisitive. His voice firm, and the raised eyebrow gave him that superior air Naruto knew came with his role as one of the leaders of ninja missions.
“It’s just that I’ve been so withdrawn, diving into my own little world where I didn’t notice anything. Now I caught myself thinking about it. I never hear you talk about any girls. I noticed a while ago that Gaara’s sister seems interested in you. She scares me a little, but she seems nice.”
He was trying, in every possible way, to focus on something that wasn’t his personal life falling apart.
“She’s not my type.”
“Then who is?”
“It’s complicated.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, finishing that cigarette and not lighting another. He looked up, noticing the still-shy stars against a sky that wasn’t fully dark yet.
“You always say that, Shika.”
“That’s because this time it really is complicated.”
There was something in his voice that made Naruto stop pushing. A weight. A discomfort. A real dissatisfaction.
Something unreturned, maybe? Who would be stupid enough not to want Shikamaru by their side? Ino?
“I guess in the end we’re just two unlucky bastards,” he laughed without a hint of humor, tilting his head forward and letting his forehead bump against Shikamaru’s shoulder—against the vest he was wearing. It smelled like nicotine, but there was also a hint of mint. It was a curious combination, but pleasant—strangely pleasant.
Just as pleasant was feeling Shikamaru’s hand at the back of his neck, absentmindedly stroking it. Shikamaru would have scolded himself for that gesture, but he had been too disconnected from everything since the moment Naruto rested his head on his shoulder. Everything that followed was automatic, his body giving in to desires he had been feeding in silence for far too long.
One part of him screamed for him to leave while his dignity was still intact. The other half refused vehemently. The duality that always made him seem lazy when it came to decisions—when in truth he was burning with desperation inside. These were not simple choices: leave and never look back, or stay and be used as a bandage for a wound that might never truly heal.
“Thank you.”
Naruto’s arms wrapped around his waist, destroying any chance he had of stepping away and not looking back.
“Knowing I can count on you is comforting.”
When had Naruto become so comfortable with this? When had touching someone like that become casual for him? When had hugs like this become part of his everyday life?
Because they definitely weren’t part of Shikamaru’s—and the tension in his muscles betrayed that. The restlessness of feeling the other’s body so close to his. The way Naruto still kept his forehead pressed to his shoulder, though now he had turned slightly, making his damn breath brush against Shikamaru’s neck.
It was torture.
Was this the punishment for wanting him for so long? What a miserable ending that would be. There had to be less painful ways to be buried in what Ino had once called the “friendzone.”
He was only there to fill the empty space Sasuke had left behind when he walked away so abruptly. He was the spare tire. The temporary fix.
Was it really that hard to learn? To stay away?
Would he ever learn?
It didn’t take long before he felt his vest grow damp. Looking down at chest level, he noticed Naruto clinging to him even tighter, letting silent tears run down his face. Shikamaru pulled him closer, tightening the embrace around him as if that simple gesture could somehow pass along comfort and safety.
In response, he probably would never learn how to tell him no. It was a vicious cycle: Naruto chasing after Sasuke, Sasuke chasing after revenge, and Shikamaru chasing after someone he could never have. He had seen the same happen with Ino. Once, she too had run after Sasuke, only to realize later that she wasn’t in love with him at all—but with Sakura, who made her heart race. She competed with Sakura because it kept her busy, and away from Sasuke.
At least Ino seemed luckier.
As for him, he was here, holding someone who was quietly breaking down in tears.
He was only occupying a place that didn’t belong to him, temporarily. Pitiful, what “fate” had reserved for him.
He stayed there, almost motionless, if not for his hands occasionally stroking the blond strands of hair. He stayed until the crying seemed to stop, though he knew it was only a pause. Once he was gone, Naruto would give in to the weakness again and cry out all the sorrow he kept inside.
Then he felt arms around his neck. He felt the warm breath brushing against his skin, and unfortunately he couldn’t stop the shivers that ran through him, goosebumps rising along his body even though the moment was not meant for that. It was just a hug between friends. He knew Naruto didn’t see him any other way—not the way he saw him.
“Shika…”
The call sounded like the song of the sirens from the stories he had heard as a child. If he looked down and saw Naruto leaning against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, it would be the beginning of a descent he might never come back from.
But damn it—he looked.
“You’re one hell of a friend.”
Like a bucket of ice water.
And yet he still felt so—
No. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t look at him any differently when Naruto was there, vulnerable and simply grateful. Those blue eyes looked like the very waters where the sirens sang, ready to enchant him and drag him under.
Would a single dive really be that bad? Would it be such a low act?
Yes.
So he watched carefully and forced a painful smile onto his lips. He was a “friend,” nothing more. He would never be anything beyond that, and he needed to learn the place he belonged. He saw Naruto lift his head a little more, looking straight into his eyes, as if all his intensity was laid bare in that gaze—not because of the Nine-Tailed Fox, not at all. But because of the pure intensity that was Uzumaki Naruto.
He watched him lean in slightly closer, making the air suddenly forget where it was supposed to go, freezing in his airways without knowing whether it should be inhaled or exhaled. He didn’t calculate it well, but he wanted to know what Naruto would do, so he turned his face slightly toward him—less than thirty degrees—trying to see better.
He was surprised by lips that were clearly aiming for his cheek, not the corner of his mouth.
It lasted only a moment, no more than a clumsy peck, which quickly broke into laughter from Naruto. He pulled back a little, placing both hands against Shikamaru’s chest, eyes closed, his face still wet with recent tears.
Damn it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to almost kiss you.”
“Don’t worry, that never crossed my mind either.” A lie. “I should go, Naruto. You know how my mom will talk my ear off if I get home late. Just try not to do anything stupid.”
His words faded as Shikamaru reached the door and left the room, still hearing his friend joking behind him that he wouldn’t go around kissing other friends.
❃
Shikamaru would normally complain to the Hokage about the “excess” of missions she was giving him, but not this time. He seemed to embrace each new assignment as if they were anchors keeping him steady in the middle of a storm. Tsunade even considered asking him why, but that would have been far too intrusive—and from what little she knew of Shikamaru, she knew he wouldn’t simply sit down and tell her. It wasn’t in the young man’s nature.
Naruto had been looking for him as well, but their near misses were intentional. If Shikamaru knew Naruto was searching for him, he disappeared like the smoke from the cigarettes he had been allowing himself to inhale more and more often. Few people actually saw the Nara outside of missions. Ino and Chouji once a week. He had been acting far too strange—even for friends who were already used to his many peculiarities.
The first time Naruto ran into Shikamaru after that strange display of weakness had been outside Tsunade’s office. Naruto had finally received a mission worthy of his enthusiasm and had just returned to report the information to the Hokage.
“Shikamaru, there you are! I thought you were avoiding me.” Naruto tossed the words out while letting a bright smile spread across his face. The blond had a gift for saying things with a serious undertone while smiling as if to soften them.
Behind Shikamaru, Ino was walking with Chouji, smiling as she talked about the progress she had been making in medical training. She stopped beside Shikamaru, casually draping an arm around her teammate’s shoulders and waving at Naruto.
“Shika, don’t forget about tonight, okay!” she said with a laugh, before quickly leaving again, practically dragging Chouji along with her. “You can come too, Naruto!”
“Go where?” The question was directed at Shikamaru, the only one still standing there in the hallway.
“Ino’s throwing a party.”
“Celebrating something special?”
“Absolutely nothing. She just wants to enjoy the flowers while they’re looking nice—and some other reason I don’t remember hearing, because I was playing shogi.” He scratched the back of his head, a little uncomfortable being alone with Naruto. There was so much inside his chest that seemed to beg him to speak, though fortunately his mind still managed to take control of the situation. Staying quiet was better.
“It’ll be in the late afternoon, behind the Yamanaka flower shop. I assume you still know where it is, right?”
He finished speaking and headed toward the door, passing close enough to Naruto to catch the scent that seemed to cling to him—and the warmth that seemed to radiate from his skin.
“See you there, then, Shika.”
Naruto watched him carefully and noticed something else there as well.
Sadness.
❃
Shikamaru took a deep breath, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked exactly as he always did—except for the hair falling loose over his shoulders like a cascade. He ran his right hand through the strands as if combing them, though he was really just pushing them away from his forehead. He grabbed the hair tie from the sink and looped it three times around the strands, imposing order on them, tying them back so they would no longer fall into his face.
His clothes were the same as always, the kind everyone was used to seeing him in. Nothing about them suggested that anything had changed. Maybe his posture had; he had grown taller, his hair longer, and his face carried more mature features now. He was no longer the boy who lazily refused to run around with his friends just so he could lie in the grass and watch the clouds.
He was humble enough not to think of himself as some heartthrob, but he wasn’t blind either. He knew he had a certain kind of beauty. Ino had pointed that out before.
He adjusted his shirt, pulling it down even though there was no need, making sure it continued to cover the waistband of his pants. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He didn’t want to celebrate anything. There was no reason to.
Of course he knew what had motivated Ino to organize the whole thing—Sakura. She wanted to see her friend happy. She wanted to distract her from everything that had happened, from his departure. And Shikamaru and Chouji didn’t have much choice when the Yamanaka decided they would help. When she decided something, that was it.
He left home late. He had already helped with everything she asked earlier, so he saw no reason to arrive early and spend even more time there when all he really wanted was to be somewhere else.
When he arrived, he immediately found Sai talking with Ino and Sakura about some new type of high-quality paint. It didn’t matter to him. He didn’t paint and had no interest in learning.
Sake was the companion of that late afternoon and early evening. The people gathered there were Ino, Sakura, Sai, Neji, Tenten, and Chouji. The others were away on missions, and of course they were still waiting for Naruto.
It didn’t take long for him to show up. There was something different about him this time. He even brought a bottle of liquor to the party, handing it to Ino as thanks for the invitation. He claimed it was one of the bottles Jiraiya had “won” from Tsunade in a bet during a game. That was entirely possible, considering the Hokage’s terrible luck.
Naruto soon noticed Shikamaru off to the side, a cigarette lit between his fingers and a small bottle of sake beside him. He was leaning against the wall, one foot braced against it, looking upward as though the sky was more interesting to watch than the group of friends in front of him.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, stopping beside him and noticing the care Shikamaru took to turn his head the other way when he blew out the cigarette smoke. “You seem… distant.”
Shikamaru was. He wanted distance—for the sake of his own sanity. So he wouldn’t find himself caught in the middle of it all, getting more and more involved with someone he couldn’t have. He was thinking only about himself, being selfish by pulling away like that, even though Naruto had made it painfully clear, through those tears, that he needed a friend by his side again.
“Just tired.”
“You accepted every mission Grandma Tsunade gave you. She even found it strange, you know. She said something must be bothering you.”
“I was on more than just missions for the village, Naruto.”
That was all he said. He wouldn’t go into detail about it—about accepting those missions not only to distance himself from the village and from his forbidden desire, but also to gather information from people beyond Konoha’s borders, searching for news about his whereabouts.
“Were you looking for him?”
The voice sounded fragile, as if the weight of his feelings were cracking it apart.
The music distracted the others. Ino pulled Sakura by the forearms, trying to make the pink-haired girl dance with her in the middle of the improvised dance floor, while Chouji handled the barbecue—serving far more to himself than to anyone else. Sai poured out endless words to Tenten and Neji, while the Hyuga merely looked at him with boredom, as if nothing in the world could possibly capture his attention.
Shikamaru glanced sideways at Naruto, knowing no one else there would hear them.
“Yes.”
The answer brought a compassionate look from Naruto as he turned to face Shikamaru, touching his chest lightly with the tips of his fingers while leaning his left side against the wall.
“Why?”
“For you.”
Damn this love that made him chase after someone who didn’t even love him—just to make that blond happy.
“Shikamaru.”
The tone of his voice came with a gentle touch against his face, forcing his friend to look at him. The slow blink, the way Naruto had to moisten his lips afterward. When Shikamaru finally gave in and looked back, Naruto saw that sadness again—something he recognized from his own reflection in the mirror.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like seeing you like this, Naruto. Seeing you so sad that night… that was—” too much for me, he finished silently in his mind, lowering his head and trying to pull away from the hand touching him. “So I thought that if I brought you some news, any news, you might feel a little less down.”
Naruto saw something there he didn’t find just anywhere. It was more than companionship. It was something that, even though they had been friends for years, not every friend would be willing to do.
How long had he been blind to everything else? When had Shikamaru become that shelter in the middle of the storm?
He felt grateful to have him by his side—and now far less deserving of something like that.
“Even after everything you told me that night, you still went looking for information about him for me?”
He didn’t remove his hand from Shikamaru’s face, even though he knew that had been exactly what Shikamaru was trying to avoid by lowering his head.
“Shikamaru, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t. I did it because I wanted to. Because I thought you deserved to at least know where he is. Not that I want to encourage you to go after him—definitely not. But if one day you decide to go looking for him, at least I’ll know which direction to point you in.”
That was it. He would be the reference point—the compass pointing the way forward. Because he wouldn’t stop him, but at the very least he wanted to know in which direction his friend… would choose to go.
Naruto grabbed the small bottle of sake beside Shikamaru and took a long drink from it while the Nara stubbed out his cigarette, not lighting another one. Instead, he took the bottle back from Naruto and drank as well.
The party seemed calm, aside from that somewhat uncomfortable conversation between the two of them. At least now Naruto understood what had made his friend pull away. He knew why Shikamaru had been so eager to accept mission after mission without complaining. He had been doing it for him.
The only thing left unanswered was the reason for that sadness.
Naruto couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Shikamaru like that—truly sad, not merely bored or indifferent. And whenever he caught himself thinking too much about it, or when Ino came over asking Shikamaru to pull Chouji away from the barbecue for a while, Naruto drank. The lack of answers unsettled him, and drinking quieted his mind for a moment… until the thoughts came back, and he drank again.
A vicious cycle he didn’t even realize he was trapped in.
“What’s wrong, Naruto?” Sakura asked, stopping beside him and picking up the empty sake bottles so they wouldn’t break them in the heat of the moment.
“I was just thinking about how lucky we are, you know. You have Ino—she seems like an amazing friend.”
“Oh, she is. She’s been trying really hard, even organized this whole party.” Sakura smiled at him, already beginning to understand where the conversation was going. “You’re thinking about Shikamaru, aren’t you?”
She turned and looked toward the barbecue, where Chouji was already saying he could handle things again, taking Shikamaru’s place.
“Lady Tsunade and I came to a conclusion about all the missions he’s been accepting lately. Every one of them took him away from the village, putting him near very good informants—places where he might, perhaps, find information about someone who left.”
“Exactly. Not just any friend would do that, right, Sakura?”
“No, definitely not, Naruto. Shikamaru has shown himself to be loyal to you in every situation. During meetings with the Hokage, he’s always the first to speak up in your defense. Even Kakashi-sensei and I are sometimes left speechless by it. He places an enormous amount of trust in you.”
There was no more time for them to talk—not when the subject of their conversation was already walking toward them with a small plate of barbecue, handing it to Naruto and saying he shouldn’t be drinking so much on an empty stomach.
Naruto should have listened to Shikamaru. Actually, he should have eaten something earlier—or stopped drinking before the world started spinning and he began smiling for no reason at all. His cheeks felt hot, and he knew it was the alcohol spreading through him from the inside out.
He realized he had gone too far when he found himself dancing something he didn’t even know what it was—and certainly didn’t know how to dance properly. Not when he couldn’t dance to begin with, and not when the drunkenness was making things worse.
In the end, it was up to Shikamaru to take him home.
Chouji would stay behind to help Ino finish cleaning up. Sakura would remain there as well. And Neji—well, Neji would escort Tenten home, like the gentleman he was, just as expected from someone of the Hyuga clan… and her teammate.
And then Shikamaru ended up having to climb the stairs while pressing Naruto’s body against his own, complaining about his friend’s excessive drinking, yet feeling strangely happy to hear him laugh while stumbling every now and then. Seeing him happy, even under the effects of alcohol, was something he preferred over watching him brood over his sorrows in some corner—just as he himself did.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d have to sleep at the Yamanaka flower shop,” he replied, helping him take off his shoes, soon hearing the heavy body fall onto the bed.
“I’m not just talking about today, Shikamaru. I mean since forever, you know. When the other kids stayed away from me and you didn’t make excuses to leave, you always stayed. I didn’t know how to recognize that before, but now I’m seeing it clearly.”
“Naruto, I’m on this side.” He touched his shoulder, showing that he was actually on the opposite side from where his friend was speaking to, eyes closed and smiling too much, as well as flushed. “I think you’re not seeing anything clearly.”
“I think some things are still out of focus. Maybe it’s my lack of sense.” He blinked slowly, as if sleep was gradually finding his tired eyelids. “Shika, can I ask you something?”
He crouched beside him on the bed while Naruto stretched out across it, turning onto his side to face Shikamaru. He rested his right hand beneath the pillow while his left wandered aimlessly until it found Shikamaru’s shoulder—or at least, he thought it did.
“Hm.” Monosyllabic, waiting for Naruto to continue with what he wanted to ask. Curious, even. Maybe his friend would ask for help bringing Sasuke back.
“Don’t go away, okay? Don’t leave me alone either.”
He closed his eyes the moment Naruto closed his as well, feeling the weight of the request. Preventing a part of himself from rejoicing over what it could mean, knowing that it didn’t mean that at all. He didn’t notice that Naruto was staring at him with wide-open eyes, seeing just how sad his friend truly was. It was uncomfortable to see him like that. It hurt him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Naruto.” His eyes were still closed, hands resting on his knees, while his head tilted so he would no longer be within the focus of the other’s blue gaze. He felt his eyes begin to sting in protest against the tears he was holding back. “I’ll stay by your side. Your dream is to become Hokage, isn’t it? I’ll stay to help you with that.”
“Promise?” he insisted, touching him, wanting his friend to look at him. He moved the hand that had been on the other’s shoulder up to his face, letting his thumb stroke the skin while the other fingers rested at the nape of his neck—a silent request for him to look.
“I don’t go back on my word. That’s my ninja way too.” The wink came to disguise his anguish, arriving like a balm for Naruto and his drunkenness. The words brought a relief he hadn’t felt in a long time, along with a sense of safety. He always felt safe beside Shikamaru. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll wake up wishing you hadn’t drunk so much.”
The hand didn’t let him leave, but he only noticed that when he tried to stand up and lost his balance, falling on top of Naruto on that single bed. He had to quickly brace his hands against the mattress, as well as one knee, so his body wouldn’t crash into Naruto’s.
Naruto watched the other’s desperation from the best seat in the house, eyes moving too quickly across his face as Shikamaru searched for an alternative so he wouldn’t fall onto him.
“I’m not going to contaminate you with anything if I fall on top of you,” he snapped, pulling his hand away from the other’s nape, though keeping his full attention on him—or at least the part of him that was still aware.
“That’s not it.”
“And it doesn’t mean that just because I was involved with Sasuke that any other guy is my type,” he said, knowing that was what many people thought.
“That’s not it either.”
“Then what is it?”
He took a deep breath, slowly enough that if he had been smoking, Naruto would have said he was savoring the moment. But he was only searching for an alternative, the best answer. And once again he glimpsed that damned sadness. This time he didn’t stop the hand that reached out to touch Naruto’s chest, feeling how strongly his heart seemed to beat, and the way he was looking at him—truly looking. Seeing more than one of the tailed beasts. Shikamaru was looking at him, and Naruto felt truly seen.
There was no way to put it into words; he had already failed countless times before. Now was the time to act. Gathering all his courage, Shikamaru brought his right hand to Naruto’s face, caressing him carefully with all the tenderness the gesture could hold. His thumb slid down to Naruto’s lips, tracing their shape with the same softness, while his eyes remained closed, memorizing and engraving the sensation of touching him into his mind. Perhaps he would never be able to be this bold again.
Naruto, on the other hand, kept his eyes wide open, feeling the other’s heart nearly leap from his chest, knowing he would never do something like that lightly. And then, as if the sake had brought clarity to his mind, he put two and two together. He leaned forward so he could brush his lips against Shikamaru’s, just like the other night, but this time with the intention of actually touching him there. He kept his eyes open, feeling Shikamaru’s hand grip the back of his neck, pulling him even closer while he felt the weight of the other’s body over his.
And then he felt nothing anymore. He closed his eyes and passed out, surrendering to alcohol and exhaustion. He didn’t see when Shikamaru left, closing the door. Or when he kissed his forehead before stepping away, saying he would always stay nearby, even if it cost him so much. Even if it truly hurt.
Because the truth was that Shikamaru didn’t care if, deep down, he was only being used to ease the absence someone else had left. At least he could stay close. And if that was the case, Naruto could use him whenever he needed.