A/N: I am currently in a Nara Shikamaru mode. I am still two thousand words away from finishing the Haku vs. Naruto special chapter in TFTP, but I am already tired and sleepy. Thus, the result of my thirty-minute break: one-sided ShikaIno. The frog33 document will be up by tomorrow.
It's not that I hate the descendants of Eve, and no, it's not that they are as despicable as vile Orochimaru is.
Oh no, I don't mean it like that.
Women, little girls in particular, are a hundred…no, a thousand times more dreadful than the Snake Ninja. At least someone like him comes only once in a decade or so, only ONCE. Women, on the other hand, come in all shapes and sizes, and walk into my bedroom at least thrice in a day, (every single day!), and nag, and then leave in exasperation, as if I was the one who invited them into my territory and contemplate on my un-colorful, un-exciting life in dormancy worse than my dad's bank account.
I therefore conclude that along with traffic and power interruptions and everything nasty in between, girls are plain troublesome.
Ah, you do not believe me? Gah, then you are yet to see The Light. That, or your eyes are closed in blissful ignorance.
Hmm? I think I'm hearing those footsteps again…oh damn, so why early?! It's not even eleven am yet!
Usually, when someone completes my name to call for me, it means this person has extra energy to spend. Man, this means another unplugged session of sermons on my irresponsible, seriously unmotivated nature.
The door banged open, making the origami birds I placed with the wind chime slam flat on the wall. I said a silent prayer of mourning for those paper birds who were in the very wrong place in a very wrong time as I asked Kami-sama for proof of His existence by making today's sermon short.
"You weren't in the practice field this morning!" Eyebrow perfectly arched in disapproval, Yamanaka Ino sauntered towards the open window where I was lying beneath, watching the clouds roll by peacefully. How I envy the clouds…I bet they don't have fellow cloudmates that barge into their space and demand to know why they weren't in the south, pouring rain for the fields.
She must have seen the distracted look on my face, so she crossed towards the window and shut it close, making me groan in protest.
"Shut up, Shikamaru!" she snapped.
Reason number one: girls are troublesome because they do not know the efforts a man gives just to get up from the floor and open those damn windows that are beyond his arm's reach.
"OK, now are you ready to listen to me?" she asked, arms crossed in front of her chest, eyes trained on me as if I was a toddler of five years and a half.
Reason number two: they question the obvious.
"How are you ever going to be a jounin if all you do is stay inside the house and daydream?" She had begun her homily with a reading taken from Asuma's Old Testament, the book of Lamentations on the Idiosyncrasies of His Team, verse 18…or is it 19?
No wait, 19 is Choji and the Goliath Chicken Barbeque.
"Yesterday, Tsunade-sama gave you the chance to pursue a Rank C mission, and you slacked off!" she cried.
"I was busy—" I started to say.
"You SLACKED off," she said matter-of-factly.
I grimaced. Reason number three: girls don't believe lies. "I'm not in the mood to hunt a low-level petty thief," I said, shrugging.
"Low level?" She looked astonished. "The target just robbed three houses, including Sasuke-kun's!"
"I told you he was low level—ouch!!!" I rubbed the back of my head she just delivered a karate chop onto. I found my fourth reason: girls are troublesome because they don't take jokes well.
"Hah! Sasuke-kun just happens to be a little busy that day, that's all!" The fire in her eyes melted considerably, making me wince. Fifth reason: girls are troublesome because they are too damn transparent with what they feel.
She continued, smiling not without bitterness. "He became the escort of Sakura-chan while she was shopping for party stuff for her debut tomorrow."
"He had to," I pointed out. "She's not just going to shop for crepe paper and party favors, you know. She needs someone to carry large, bulky materials for her."
"Why didn't she get Naruto?" she asked, sulking.
"Because she doesn't want to. Simple as that, geez." I rolled my eyes heavenwards and propped my arms back at nape. "This sucks…"
Her mouth dropped open in shock as her blue-green eyes widened, hurt. I winced some more. Reason number six: girls are capable of making you feel like a sinner doomed for a one-way trip to hell even over a single onion-skin layer of mistake.
And with that comes reason number seven: you apologize for something you didn't or you unwittingly did. In this case, the second one applies to me.
"Don't," she hissed, flipping a wisp of her bangs behind her ear. "I can already guess what you are about to say. You'll call me a hopeless, masochistic idiot again for pining on him. I know, I know." She turned her back on me and started towards the door. "I don't know what came over me, thinking you would spend some time to listen to me—"
"Heh. You should be the one taking listening lessons." I looked away, annoyed at myself for opening my mouth. Had I remained quiet, she would have left the room already and I could have gotten back my precious solitude. But it was too late—she has already paused, and I had already begun my second sentence. "When I said 'this sucks', it didn't pertain to you and your love affair."
She slowly turned around, eyes asking. "So what did you mean by what you said?"
I groaned audibly. My reason number eight: girls, for all their proud declarations on sensitivity that an average male species does not possess, or had possessed but was buried in layers of testosterone, are dense. DENSE.
"It's just plain annoying that in life, there are some who treats like trash the person that another treasures more dearly than his life." The moment I understood what I just allowed myself to say, I nearly punched myself.
She tipped her chin, and then slowly shook her head. "I don't get it…"
"Wonderful." I moved a little to find my relaxing position again—my feet are starting to sleep again. Rubbing my jaw, I reflected on the ninth reason: girls know what they mustn't' know, and doesn't know what is imperative to understand.
"Dakedo…" she said softly, making me, my capillaries, my breath, and my heartbeat halt in a moment.
"I feel..." She smiled sheepishly, knocking her knuckle softly on top of her head and stuck a tongue out like an embarrassed schoolgirl. "…b-better…"
Silence followed as I contemplated on a reply, but a second later, I decided against it. I opted to bear the discomfort of the sudden air of heaviness in the silence of the room, rather than to open my mouth and humiliate myself by revealing something as stupid as my feelings.
"Gah. I should have known better than to go here and try to make a meaningful conversation with you!" she cried in exasperation, and then slammed the door behind her. "You can die tomorrow as a bum and I won't care!"
She would be back same time tomorrow.
I adjusted my head's position and looked up at the closed window.
The tenth reason why I find girls troublesome: Yes, they slam doors, kill paper birds, and obsesses on angsty guys, yet they can take away your heart with a mere smile or a simple teardrop, and only Kami-sama knows when you'll get it back
…if she gives it back.
How should she when she doesn't know that she had actually taken something from me?
This, that, and other ironies of my life.
Terribly, annoyingly troublesome.