Hey guys! Another oneshot… hope you enjoy it. This is a Shikamaru and Hinata fic… I think the world needs more of them.
Heh, you can always count on me for a crack pairing.
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Naruto? I didn't think so.
Shikamaru pulled out the guitar that once belonged to his father. It was old, and out of tune, but that could be fixed.
In the middle of the night, sitting on a tree branch, looking over an empty field with long grass, he turned the tuners until each string was perfect. He sat cross-legged on the branch, expertly balanced.
His fingers moved expertly, playing a soft tune.
Hinata lay awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. She sat up and stretched. Her pajamas consisted of a light blue spaghetti strap top that came up past her belly button and gray shorts. Not bothering to change out of them, she jumped out of her window, greeting the warm summer night.
Shikamaru's fingers moved expertly across the fingerboard, his hand gently strumming the stings. It had been years since his father had taught him to play… maybe he had learned ten years ago, when he was six. When he was little, he had been enthusiastic to learn, but when he grew older, he had dubbed it, 'Too troublesome'.
He had never told anyone about his skill in playing this instrument, not even his close friends.
He looked up for a moment, still playing his tune. There was a girl below him, not seeing him. He ignored her for the moment, looking back at his fingers and still playing.
Hinata didn't know why, but she heard music coming from somewhere. She had thought she would be all alone, coming to this place. She looked up and saw a figure on a low tree branch, playing his guitar. She smiled slightly. It looked like Shikamaru-san. Seems she wasn't the only person who came here to think.
Shikamaru's features were relaxed, yet concentrated. His eyes were closed, and he opened them for a moment. The girl was looking at him, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. It was that girl, Hinata… the cute and shy one. He smiled slightly to himself and chucked. How troublesome.
He looked down once more, playing a different tune, a tune he had heard his father play for his mother long ago. A tune, that at first was shaky, came back to him and his fingers that had memorized the feel of the guitar, over and over again. The fingers that had memorized where every fret was, where every note was. The fingers that knew how to make the notes loud, soft, or strained.
The tune was soft and seductive, every strain vibrating through the air and Hinata listened. The song was pretty… she heard every crescendo and decrescendo, every vibrato. The notes were in minor and Shikamaru's fingers moved across the fingerboard frantically.
It reminded Hinata of a dance. An exotic one that she had seen a women do during a festival, holding out her fan and opening and closing it, throwing her arms up and spinning around in a seductive way. Hinata hadn't known why, but she wanted to learn how the gypsy woman did it. She asked for lessons.
The gypsy agreed to teach Hinata one dance: The Dance of the Moonlight.
Shikamaru watched Hinata, not once making a mistake. The notes were perfect. His fingers did not falter with this tune. He watched as Hinata slowly drew her arms over her up head. Her hips slowly moved side to side. Shikamaru still did not stop as he played his song. He only played louder, the notes hitting highs and lows.
Hinata danced to the beautiful tune, her body, her soul now possessed by the music. She couldn't help it. She had to move to it. She recalled every move that belly-dancing woman had taught her, the smooth, graceful moves that were meant only to seduce. Her shoulder-length hair swished with every movement. Her every move went perfectly with the notes.
She was merely the puppet; the strains and notes were her strings.
Shikamaru played the song faster; his eyes were set on the sight before him. Hinata was dancing, her feet moving swiftly to every beat, her hands twirling around over her head, by her sides, everywhere. Her face was lit up by the moonlight, her eyes were closed.
And for a moment, just a moment, there was no Hyuuga, no Akastuki, no Orochimaru, no broken hearts. There wasn't even Shikamaru or Hinata. There was only a dancer and a musician.
Shikamaru closed his eyes, playing louder and faster, knowing that the end of the song would come soon.
Hinata's dance was elaborate. Her hips swayed back and forth in an intriguing way, her feet moving fast below her.
His fingers move across the fingerboard, his eyes close; he does not want this to end.
Her hands move up and down and her hips sway from side to side, back and forth. She likes it this way.
Shikamaru's song ended silently, and Hinata stopped, taking deep breaths. She looked at Shikamaru, her face red as well as his.
She hadn't known what had gotten into her, dancing like that. In front of Shikamaru, too. Shikamaru didn't know what had gotten into him, either, watching her like that. Watching her hair and her hips and her hands. He silently jumped down, walked over to her, and faced her.
The wind blew silently trough her hair. His eyes looked into hers. They both smiled.The end
Yes, they were out of character, but that was kind of the point… The music possessed them. I hope my pathetic attempt at imagery is worthy of your love!
Read and Review!