Spring

Shikamaru sighed and he lay against the grassy, slightly damp hill. He had his head resting against the palms of his hands, which were crossed over each other. His calm, calculating eyes traced clouds that puffed by, lazily taking their time.

Shikamaru never liked winter.

“Too cold.”

Shikamaru never liked autumn.

“Too many troublesome leaves.”

Shikamaru never liked summer.

“Too hot.”

Shikamaru never liked spring. But he didn’t dislike it either.

It was the best of the four seasons. But it wasn’t the best in everything. But he didn’t give much thought to it.

Troublesome.

Truthfully, the only reason he liked spring better than the other seasons was because the clouds were clearest in this time of year. In the summer, they all disappeared without a trace and in autumn, the only time he’d see them was when it’d start to rain. And in winter, the sky was one solid grey.

Shikamaru sighed.

Everyone always concentrated on the new life that blossomed when spring came, never paying attention to what happened to the lives that already were in bloom. No one ever paid attention to the subtle changes from winter to spring; instead, they were always looking at the bright explosion of life and colour.

No one ever noticed the cloudy grey skies of winter breaking into that beautiful, bright blue sky dotted with stringy clouds. No one ever noticed the frozen streams breaking into a clear, trickling mini water rapid. No one ever noticed the weeds and buds that grew from the ground and trees, always focusing on their brighter and fuller cousins even though they both took equal strength and time to bloom and grow.

But Shikamaru noticed. He always did.

He was too sharp to miss those tiny details that everyone overlooked. In many ways, he was easy to overlook as well; his strength didn’t measure up to Lee’s or Naruto’s and he certainly was never one of those silent, brooding prodigies like Neji or Sasuke (thank god).

“It’s always easier to understand things that you can relate to,” Ino commented.

Shikamaru was often overlooked, like those weeds on the ground or the small clouds in the sky. But he had gotten used to it – after all, the least troublesome way of dealing with it was to just let it run its natural course.

But while everyone was busy cooing over new babies or sighing or new crushes or those few unfortunate souls that were allergic to pollen (which was always particularly heavy during the spring), they left Shikamaru alone.

And that’s what he wanted.

He was a loner by nature, but he didn’t reject other’s company. In fact, sometimes he craved company, like Ino’s.

Shikamaru contemplated on complex things when he was cloud – gazing. He needed peace and quiet for that. The sight of those lazy, puffy clouds relaxed him and gave him something to observe and think about.

In many ways, he was like a cloud. Shikamaru always went along with the current, preferring to blend in than stand out. He went along quietly, idly without a care in the world. He could just sit back and relax without the pressures of people pushing in on him.

“Shikamaru, you have another mission!”

“Shikamaru, what’s the answer to this question?”

“Shikamaru, we need your opinion on this!”

“Shikamaru, get up! It’s 5 am and you have training!”

…Troublesome.

And tiring. He couldn’t please everyone all the time, no matter how hard he tried. That’s why in the end, Shikamaru always ended up putting minimum effort in his work and never caring what others thought about it.

And the rest of the time, Shikamaru would just sit back and watch the clouds, watching quietly as each puff would laze by. He would watch until the very last day of spring.

And when summer came, the clouds vanished.

And so did Shikamaru.