Crumbling

Pairing: Shikaino

Summary: He had to hold on... Because being perfect isn't as easy as you'd think... A dramatic little Shikacentric peice, enjoy!

Genre: Drama, Angst

Rating: K+

‘Jeez Shikamaru, you’re so lazy!’

He couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t. The Nara clan had a tendency to get yelled at by others, and there was nothing he could do.

‘Get up, you lazy bastard!’

And it had hurt for a while, hacking away at his insides like an axe; but it became a dull thunk with time, hitting steadily against the back of an intricately woven mind as steadily as the waves in the ocean his father had always described to him, before it transitioned completely from a series of fatal blows to an affectionate gesture he had learned to accept from his precious ones.

‘ Shikamaru Nara, get up this instant!’

Still, there were deeper meanings to his seemingly insignificant actions, reasons few other than Choji and Naruto could accept, and even fewer but his father could understand. Shikamaru was not dull. He was in no way stupid, or unobservant. The average person only used about 10 of their brain consciously, but despite the lack of the precise numbers which he so heartily despised, Shikamaru was unfortunately aware that he was constantly in use of a much greater percentage of his total mental capabilities than the average human being.

‘Shikamaru, are you sleeping again?’

And so, even though a reason for his constant resting was that he loved to lie and envy the clouds, as they drifted by at a constant rate freely, unrestrained by the binds of human knowledge and responsibility, that was not the core reason. As an average adult mind used about 25 of the body’s total energy while it used 10 of it’s overall power, his mind, even if he was not doing anything very stressful or challenging, used about half of his body’s energy, just by going through normal thought process. He could not turn it off; just as Naruto couldn’t stop containing the Kyuubi. So he had to sleep, or faint.

Ino had, a time ago, entered the minds of many ninja in turn, in order to better understand their emotions and motives. She had related to him the many thoughts of their companions, and although appearing off-handedly intrigued, he had found what could only be referred to as a rant endlessly interesting.

Naruto’s mind, as could be expected, was simple and straightforward. It took the form of a sewer, with one end dank and sinister, the other bright and nursing, like the sun.

Neji’s mind was a large building, similar to the Hyuuga compound. It was large but easy to navigate.

Sakura’s mind was a large hospital, clean and pristine, complicated but organized, with a separate room for each person she had ever met, filing cabinets in each labeled with things like ‘Friendship’, ‘Romance’, ‘Annoying’, and similar.

Hinata’s mind was a nighttime ocean, with many darker layers, locked doors and cracked mirrors riding the waves. In the distance there was a bright light, with flecks of blue, like the rising sun emerging from the water itself.

Choji’s looked like a large summer field, filled with photographs and open cookbooks. The mind reader had been able to make neither head or tail of this mindscape, as there was nothing hinting towards fresh thoughts other than the glittering, swirling butterflies that rode the skies. Everything had looked old and unused. Only upon further exploration had she found boxes underneath the photos, crammed with objects. His box was the largest, although when she opened it, expecting more dusty objects, what came out were millions of shape-shifting stars with sentences and images inscribed upon them, more than could have logically filled the (at first empty) box. They fluttered and replaced the red sun, and, surprised, she had released the jutsu to find Choji smiling with a faraway look, and she had left him there.

And that same day was when she had asked to enter his mind. And he had foolishly obliged. God he was stupid.

She entered his mind smoothly, as planned, and he met her there, repressing his thoughts and focusing them all into the image of himself he had conjured, deep in the pitch black recesses of his mind.

‘What’s the point of entering your mind if you’re just going to hide all your thoughts? Come here.’

‘No, I’ll do it, don’t touch me.’

‘Stop being stupid, I’ve been doing this for eight years, get over yourself.’ And she stretched out her hand.

‘Don’t-!’ It was too late. She had grabbed his hand. He couldn’t contain it, and his thoughts flowed out of him like a breath that had been held for too long.

The ground shook. She fell to the floor, he was dematerializing, his hand was going through her.

‘Ino!’

A train rumbled into the subway. The doors slammed open and people poured out, faces in shadow, coats drawn high, hats pulled low. She was scrambling to her feet, platinum flying, hands slipping on the grimy tiles. They rumbled past, ignoring her, towards him. He hit a wall bodily, despite his semi opaque appearance, slowly fading further. Another tunnel opened next to the one the train had come from.

Thoughts, in the form of wind, were hitting him one by one. Unseen gears were grinding around them, a clock was ticking. He tried to push past his nightmares and get to her, but chains sprung around him and dragged him back. Metallic sounds rumbled, something screeched into motion, the earth shook. Golden vines were dragging Ino towards an old fashioned telephone box, the chains were tightening, he couldn’t watch…

His eyes sprung open, something inside him uncoiled.

‘ENOUGH!’ His voice resounded through the subway, despite the fact that he had not opened his mouth. Walls crumbled, the shadow figures melted into the ground, a new train was rumbling into sight. Filled with his newfound strength, he leapt forward and seized Ino.

He was on a giant Shoji board. ‘Knight forward,’ he said firmly, and the landscape changed to a training ground. A kunai was zooming towards them. A voice was calling from a distance, a detached part of him was being shaken, his vision was pixelating…something grabbed him from above, Ino was slipping…

He had snapped awake to find himself and Ino clutched by none other than a crying Choji. And it was eating away at him.

Nobody but his father had his intelligence. Nobody else could bear it. It crushed them. He had the power to turn battles one way or another and to bring nations down, and his team relied on him to get them through their missions unscathed, in one piece, with the job completed flawlessly. Because they were Konoha shinobi. It was what they were supposed to wasn’t nervous- he was terrified; one day he was going to miss a variable when calculating, a step in the interdependent layers he wove together when forming a battle plan, and it was going to come crashing down around his ears, the fear was suffocating him.

He couldn’t let it happen, and yet he knew it would, and the knowledge was destroying him, yet it was invaluable to him. It drove him to work harder, he had to make his plans perfect, as there was no room for flaws, no room for mistakes, he had to be two hundred steps ahead, he had to be perfect, and he was dying because of it, as sixteen year old was not built for the kind pressure that was building on him, as he held the weight of his actions on his shoulders, and he knew he was so close to collapsing and not ever getting up again.

It could not happen, for he could not lose his brother Choji, or his soul by the name of Ino, or his creators, and as his pillar, which he called Naruto, was not crumbling, he could not either. And yet he wanted it so bad, to end the tears flowing down his face, so that he would not feel the ice cold rain pounding upon his back as he lay in the street, clutching at his last threads, trying to hold on so that the world of his precious people could keep spinning, and he wasn’t allowed to give up, for he could not be selfish, as he had forbidden himself that one weakness which he craved the most.

He could hear his name called in the distance, and he wanted it to stop. It was hurting, piercing his ears like needles, resounding in his mind. Several doors and a window slammed shut, feet pounded pavement, and he was enveloped in warmth, blurs of sapphire, gold, crimson, orange and earth, and he was losing himself to the memories he was recalling desperately, trying to keep going as he felt familiar voices buzzing away, darkness ebbing in the corners of his mind as he was lulled away by the crashing of the waves.

‘All I hear is a swooshing sound.’ He said, putting the shell down awkwardly.

‘And that is what the ocean sounds like.’ His father sighed. ‘It’s the deepest blue, and it’s steady rhythm seems to beat from deep inside you, never failing and never ceasing. You feel… you feel as though…as though you could fall into it and swim forever in any direction, and you would never get to the shore. It’s comforting and intimidating all at once.’

‘Like Ino’s eyes.’

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. A whisper.

The hottest summer day yet. A sixteen year old Ino stood by the waterfall, her wonder mingling with the thundering crashes of elements. Her long white dress was billowing in the faint breeze, feet bare.

‘Come on, Shika!’ Her voice was a whisper, defying the waterfall, and fall it did louder still.

He stumbled over the slippery rocks, sliding in the mud, pants rolled up, shirt off, neck sun burnt. ‘Troublesome…’ he muttered, but it was obvious from his smile that he did not mean it. ‘You alright there Cho?’ he bellowed over his shoulder, leaning against a knobbed tree.

‘I’m coming, coming!’ came the reply. The owner of the voice came up over the hill, beaming amidst the dried grasses, lugging a large beach bag. He set it down in the shade of the tree. ‘Let’s go, I’m going to evaporate.’

The ninja did not own bathing suits-no, they were not sold in Konoha, seeing as team 10 was made up of the only people who had ever known about the sanctuary’s existence. No, the three teenagers charged into the cool water laughing in their clothing, splashing, screaming, jumping and squirting.

Ino pulled out her hair tie and tackled Shikamaru, who was submerged completely under the water, struggling, to keep her away.

She emerged from the water, clutching two twin ties, threw her head back, and laughed.

The sound was musical- a bubbly, soulful laugh that had long since been replaced with a cold-hearted snigger, and it resounded through the clearing, reaching his ears as clearly as if she had been right beside him. He wanted to hear it again.

He would hold on. He had to. For if he let go, he would never hear her laugh again. It was his reason to keep on going, and he would protect it until the end of time.