Break to Breathe

 

BREAK TO BREATHE

by Okami Rayne

Chapter Thirty Six

 

"Shikamaru, don't run. If you run, it will charge."

"I can run faster than a deer with a broken leg."

"It's not broken, kid."

Broken…

The memory broke up in his mind…fragmenting into disjointed thoughts...all of them swirling around fractured dialogue…words that stabbed into his brain like glass.

Glass…

"It's made of glass, do you like it?"

"You woke me up for this?"

"Shikamaru…"

"Fine. It's nice."

"Nice? That's it?"

"It's nice and heavy?"

"Shikamaru! Ugh! Give it to me before you break it."

Break…it…?

"You broke it."

"Yeah I noticed."

"I think you cheated."

Neji…

Darkness swamped in, pulsing starbursts of colour behind his eyes.

Eyes…broken eyes… Neji…

He scrambled for some mental cohesion, trying to drag his scattered thoughts together.

Fuck …move…

Pain sawed through his synapses, cutting off signals to his limbs. He felt completely disconnected from his body, yet at the same time he couldn't detach from the nauseating pain throbbing in his head.

Ugh…

Blackness ebbed in, heavy and dark and promising relief…a sweet panacea to the pain…a quick slip through the cracks…

"Shikamaru!"

The call of his name exploded in his mind, punching him into consciousness. He jerked his head up, grunting hard at the pain. Sudden movement of any kind just wasn't going to happen.

What…the…?

Dazed and drifting, he struggled to process what the hell was happening. He heard the dull reverberation of running footsteps, amplified in his head like small explosions.

Ugh…why is it so hard to move…? Did I hit…something on the way down? Wait…where…?

He struggled to complete the thought, but failed in the attempt the second he felt a rough, wet slap dragging across his cheek. It stank like dog. Shikamaru groaned, cracking an eye open only to squeeze it shut when Akamaru's breath panted out against his face. The second swipe of slathering tongue convinced him he'd have preferred a bite.

"Shikamaru!"

Loud…

It was nothing compared to the bark Akamaru let off. The stray thought of a brain haemorrhage came to mind; if he didn't have one already.

"Shikamaru," gasped a softer voice, less abrasive and distinctly female.

He felt fingertips grazing the side of his head and cupping his jaw. The pain was instant and he frowned, but not a moment later came the warmth and tingle of curative chakra. The gentle illumination played across his closed eyelids, swallowing up the black.

"Shikamaru don't move." Sakura's voice. "You might be concussed."

Concussed?

The word trickled through and he felt the hinge of his jaw loosen. A weak, raspy chuckle filtered through his lips.

"Why's he laughing?" Naruto.

"Whoa, he got hit hard." Kiba.

Shikamaru's lashes flickered open, the hoarse chuckle scraping in the back of his throat as he swallowed. "Ow…"

Aqua-tinged eyes, rounded with concern, fixed on his face. "Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru carefully worked his jaw, feeling the world spin in a dizzying dip as something nudged under his head like a cushion. Judging by the upside down angle it was probably Sakura's thighs.

Fighting the fleeting embarrassment, Shikamaru cleared his throat. "Where's…Neji…?"

"Neji's lost the fucking plot."

"Kiba!" Sakura scolded, lifting her head sharply. Shikamaru attempted to get his eyes to follow the direction her jaw slanted. Bad idea. Dots danced in front of his eyes.

"What?" Kiba snapped. "It's true. He just KO'd Shikamaru into a fucking wall."

That would be the head trauma…doesn't explain why I'm 'this' incapacitated…

Shikamaru tried to dredge up what had happened seconds before he'd hit the floor. However, his brain failed to supply a flashback to fill in the big fat blank Neji had punched into his head.

Great…

He felt Sakura's hands cup the sides of his skull, the healing glow of green pulsing through the pain.

"Where is he?" Shikamaru muttered, hoping that sound was actually coming out his mouth and he wasn't just sprawled, making faces like some beached fish.

Sakura hummed. "Shikamaru, try not to talk for a moment until I get rid of the swelling, okay?"

Shikamaru squinted, glimpsing the smear of red against the heels of Sakura's palms as she bracketed his jaw. Was he bleeding? He must have hit the ground harder than he thought. He heard Naruto crouch down beside him and angled his blurry gaze towards the Uzumaki's face. Wide blue orbs stared down, swimming with concern, turbulent with confusion.

"Why the hell did Neji do this?" Naruto whispered to no one in particular.

Shikamaru closed his eyes, frowning. "He was…protecting me…"

"From what?" Kiba snorted. "His other Gentle Fist?"

"Interfering…" Shikamaru muttered lamely, gingerly testing the hinge of his jaw when Sakura cupped his head again.

"That's bullshit, Shikamaru!" Naruto yelled.

"Man…you're fucking loud…"

"Stop shouting, Naruto," Sakura said firmly and Shikamaru felt her set her hands at his shoulders. "Go and get me some ice."

Naruto blinked. "You're kiddin' me! From where?"

"Let's go chip it off Neji's ass," Kiba muttered beneath his breath.

"Will you guys stop it," Sakura whispered, hissing the words out in a tone that immediately silenced both of them. "Naruto go and find Isuka, she'll know where they keep an icepack or something. Kiba, can you find Hinata?"

Shikamaru heard a mutter of reluctant compliance. He blinked his eyes open to a half-shutter, watching the dog-nin and Uzumaki pass out of his line of sight. He heard Sakura sigh softly above him.

"What happened?"

I fucked up…that's what happened…

The memory of Neji's eyes came back to him. Shikamaru swallowed down the bile that crept up his throat. He brought his head up an inch at a time, wincing at the discomfort, but grateful that the violent hammer of pain had dulled. He raised his fingertips to his jaw, rubbing at crusted flecks of blood. It had been a clean split.

"I need to find him…"

Sakura's hands pressed gently on his shoulders, trying to ease him back. "You need to stay still."

"Tempting," he drawled, dragging his elbows beneath him to lever his head off the kunoichi's lap. "Shit…"

"Shikamaru."

He ignored the caution in her voice, edging up a little more and twisting around to drop his shoulder in a slouch against the doorframe. "No time for a nap…"

Sakura shook her head. "You shouldn't be moving around. I've stopped any swelling, but I really need Hinata to look at you."

"Hinata?" Shikamaru frowned, rubbing at his jaw, blinking his eyes slowly as the world began to align itself.

"Yes." Sakura shuffled over, raising her hands again to frame his head and channel another blanket of chakra across his skull. "Neji used chakra, Shikamaru. With the impact your head took against that wall, plus the chakra, it might have unsettled or clogged something and I just need to be sure."

Shikamaru arched a brow. Neji channelled chakra into the hit? Little wonder the punch had rattled more than just his jaw on its hinges. At least it explained the slow revving of his motor functions. Targeting his motor cortex was a sure way to keep him down – though he sensed Neji hadn't been consciously directing his attack.

He'd just lashed out.

"Do you like what you see, Shikamaru? Is 'this' what you want me to 'let out'?"

Shikamaru frowned at the memory of those words, which suddenly took on a new meaning. They drove like splinters into his mind. It's not like Neji hadn't warned him before. Not that it changed what he had to do now.

I need to move.

What concerned him more than what the chakra surge may have short-circuited in his head, was the detrimental affect it might have had on Neji. Expending a reflex burst of chakra from his fist like that wouldn't have done his blocked tenketsu any favours.

"How long have I been out?" Shikamaru asked, frowning.

Sakura sighed. "We waited about twenty minutes before coming after you. The others are with Hibari."

Shit…twenty minutes…I'm wasting time here…

Shikamaru brushed Sakura's palms away from his head. "I'm fine."

"I'm serious, you have to stay still."

"I'm serious, I need to find him."

Sakura smacked her hands to her thighs gripping firmly as she frowned. "Why did he do this, Shikamaru?"

He dodged the question by reaching for the doorframe, getting a solid grip as he tugged himself to his feet. "Listen…you need to—" he swayed dangerously and smacked his palms out to brace himself. "Ugh…keep the mission on track."

Sakura rocked back onto the balls of her feet, rising in a sharp jolt. "What? Me?"

"This mission can't fail." Shikamaru locked his shoulder against the doorframe, his mind already jump-starting into immediate acceleration.

If this mission fails…my deal with Tsunade forfeits…

Sakura moved to stand directly in front of him. "And what about Neji? Isn't he a mission too?"

Shikamaru closed his eyes, swallowing hard but pretending that he was battling nausea or dizziness. "Yeah…"

"He's lying."

Shikamaru slipped his eyes open at the soft words, his gaze slicing over Sakura's shoulder to lock on a pair of pastel irises. The Hyūga kunoichi gazed back with surprising resolve.

Sakura frowned, turning a fraction to look across at Hinata. "What?"

"He's lying," she repeated, her voice firm, but her eyes gentle with compassion.

It was the last thing Shikamaru wanted to see. It was like trying to pull a punch to soften the blow. He'd taken one crappy hit already; he didn't think he could take one in a place where lies were his only defence.

Shit.

Shikamaru shook his head. "Hinata. Don't."

"No, Shikamaru-kun. You're already risking Neji-niisan's trust." Hinata fixed her lilac eyes on him, unwavering. "I won't just…stand by and let you lose anyone else's."

"What are you saying?" Sakura queried, a deep furrow scored between her brows as she glanced between them. "Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru rolled away from the doorframe, using the momentum to carry him back into the room with a wince. "Nothing. Drop it."

"No, I won't," Hinata insisted, coming to stand in the doorway as Sakura stepped in after him. "I was the one who came to you, Shikamaru-kun. I…I asked for your help. You didn't have to, b-but you chose to help Neji."

Shikamaru flinched at Sakura's abrupt stop behind him.

He turned.

Her eyebrows had shot to her hairline, maybe above and beyond. A second later they dropped in a frown. "Chose to help?"

Shikamaru's lips twisted into an irritated knot, his dark eyes narrowing in place of any words. What the hell could he say? Silence was his best tactic right now. He could lay thick some more bullshit but right now he was more concerned with finding Neji.

"Sakura-chan, please," Hinata spoke again, drawing Sakura's glare away from him. "Don't be angry with Shikamaru. He's been trying t-to protect Neji."

Shikamaru smacked his hand to his face, muffling a curse into his palm.

Well, shit…

"Wait…" Sakura's voice dropped then raised several decibels. "What?"

…and there's the fan…

"Ugh…don't have time for this," Shikamaru growled, dropping his hand and launching into practical mode. He needed to find Neji and formulate a pretext for both the Hyūga's absence and his own.

"Protect him?" Sakura echoed, biting out the first word.

Shikamaru ignored her, which was easy to do with the massive headache that had set in. It dominated one side of his head like a times ten hangover. He attempted to chisel his focus sharply onto strategy, cutting out a quick plan in his mind.

That crisis stash-point at the borders…that could work…if I could get him there…

He turned towards the table still laden with layout plans and maps.

"Shikamaru, what does she mean protect, Neji?"

Shikamaru wasn't listening. He clutched the ends of the low table in a white-knuckle grip, crouching down unsteadily to flick through the scattered documents, searching for a map that Hibari had marked out.

Dammit, where is it?

"Shikamaru…"

He shoved to his feet with a scowl, swaying precariously but ignoring the pulse in his temples as he scanned the room, rubbing the knot at his brow.

Think!

He paused, dropped his hand and moved across towards the den he and Neji had been in. On the periphery, he sensed Sakura's eyes stalk him across the room.

"This is about more than Neji being sick," she pressed, moving after him as he slipped into the den. "All that 'need to know basis' rubbish can't cover up the fact that something else is seriously wrong."

Shikamaru upturned the futon in an angry jerk, searching beneath the mattress and covers. He eyed his Chūnin jacket, moving over to it as Sakura came to stand, hands on hips, in the doorway.

As he rummaged, she exuded her mounting frustration without a word.

"Dammit!" Shikamaru stood, bracing his shoulder against the wall, dropping the flak jacket with a rough growl as he rubbed at his eyes, frustration grinding the gears in his mind.

He needed that map.

"Is it true?" Sakura said, her voice less angry than her stance. "Are you protecting him from something?"

Shikamaru shook his head sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No."

"Yes!" Hinata exclaimed, coming to stand just behind Sakura.

Her voice was so sudden and the volume so alien to her tones that Shikamaru might have looked surprised if his face wasn't scrunched up in pain. The pressure building in his head was making it increasingly difficult to think.

"I don't know why," Hinata continued, quieter now. "But I know it's to do with my clan…was it my father? Please…j-just tell me that it wasn't my—"

"No," Shikamaru said tightly. "It wasn't. It's not about your father…"

It never was…

Or at least it hadn't been for two months – whatever that meant.

Pain spread behind Shikamaru's eyes, throbbing. Sucking a breath through clenched teeth, he screwed his eyes shut tightly and tipped his head back, trying to ignore the shrill ringing in his ears. It wouldn't stop. He raised his hands to dig his thumbs into the hinges of his jaw, fingertips pressing around his ears.

Not good…

Sakura was at his throat a second later. "Shikamaru, you better tell me what's going on!"

"My brain is leaking out my fucking ear, that's what's goin' on!" he snapped, dropping his hands and rolling his shoulders. He pushed away from the wall in a stagger and brushed past her out the room. "Where the hell is that map…"

Sakura grabbed his wrist. "Sit down."

Shikamaru tugged his hand back and almost landed on his ass. Sakura scowled and ushered him firmly back to the futon, gripping his shoulders and shoving hard until his knees buckled and he dropped with an embarrassing lack of resistance.

Dammit…

Hinata came to his side, Byakugan activated as she scanned his head. He wondered if his brain was about as bruised as his ego; he made a mental note to work out how the hell unfavourable outcomes normally resulted in women manhandling him one way or another. He felt Hinata's fingertips tapping along his brow.

Sakura crouched down, her expression thunderous. "Before you go charging off and getting creative with the truth, you can wait until Hinata fixes whatever Neji did."

Shikamaru arched a brow, settling a non-expression on her. "Almost glad Ino isn't on this firing-squad."

"Oh stop it," Sakura muttered, frowning. "He can't have gone far either way."

Don't bet on it.

He jerked his shoulders when Hinata's chakra-laced touch did something that felt like an air-rupture in his skull. But the pop of chakra resulted in an immediate deflation of the pressure in his head. The ringing in his ears stopped.

"Sakura-chan?"

Sakura knelt forward, cupping his head again, her hands gentler than her voice. "I don't know what you said to Naruto to get him to back off, but I'm tired of being kept in the dark, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru held back his angry response to that, waiting until she dropped her hands away. The second she did he moved to his feet, looking to put as much distance between himself and her questions as possible.

"Thanks," he said, moving out the door.

She grabbed his forearm. "You told me you were directly assigned to this, Shikamaru. But it turns out you chose to do this? You said it wasn't personal."

Shikamaru tugged his arm back. "It's not…" he continued on towards the table in the centre of the room.

"Stop lying to me!" Sakura cut him off, overtaking in quick strides that put her between him and his destination. "You told me you were ordered to take this mission with Neji. You told me these were the Hokage'sorders!"

Shikamaru planted his feet, trying to get his brain to screech to a halt as it raced on ahead. He closed eyes and clenched his jaw, bunching the muscles there repeatedly while he fought to preserve energy and patience. He needed it. Yelling was troublesome. Sakura wasn't going to let this go. The recommended action at this point was to skirt the borders of inevitable territory. Either that or walk it blind and hope he didn't have to dodge her fists when he hit a landmine.

God dammit.

Shikamaru drew a quiet breath, filtering it out through his nose like smoke. "It doesn't matter how this mission came about. The fact is, mission or not, we can't fail…on both accounts."

"On both accounts?" Sakura echoed, incredulous at his blank expression. "Well what's more important to you? Helping Neji or completing this mission?"

Shikamaru sighed, shuttering his eyes. "Ugh, you don't get it."

"Get what?"

"They're connected, dammit," he growled, reigning himself in. "If one fails, the other fails…I've only got this one shot to help him. This mission is it. Game's over after this. I have to make it happen."

Sakura's fists loosened, along with her expression, the anger draining away. "So this mission…Hanegakure…"

Shikamaru waved a hand, turning to step past her. "Means to an end, just happens to be a win-win if it doesn't screw up."

Sakura kept her back to him as he crouched down beside the table, methodically searching through the maps and plans. He twisted sheets and charts around, the crackle and swish of paper the only sound to fill the heavy silence.

Hinata edged closer, her fist curled loosely to her chest as if holding her heart. He could feel her concern pressing in on all sides. Then Sakura's voice carried over, soft and subdued from her earlier anger.

"Then Neji was the priority…all this time…"

Shikamaru sighed, thumping his elbows onto the table and rubbing his hands across his face. "I needed him out of Konoha to do this, alright? And I needed you and Hinata onboard. Only way to do it was a viable mission. You wouldn't ask too many questions—" he snorted, dropping his hands in a conclusive thud, "guess that part didn't pan out…but I knew Neji wouldn't turn this mission down."

Shikamaru heard the soft scuff of Sakura's footsteps rounding the table. "Because he killed Kitori's daughter?"

The shadow-nin kept his gaze on the maps, searching the layouts. "Yeah. I knew he'd take this mission even without Tsunade-sama's order. No disrespect to Kitori's kid…but her death presented an opportunity to save his life."

Sakura knelt down opposite him, smoothing her palms across the maps to straighten them out. "He really wants to make it right with these people."

Shikamaru nodded, tugging free a map that Naruto had doodled on, relief casting over his eyes as he picked out Hibari's annotations and circles.

Found it.

"Why was he so cold to Kitori?" Sakura asked softly, edging carefully into territory Shikamaru had expected her to charge through. "I mean, to be so heartless like that…"

The Nara quirked his lip grimly, his eyes on the map, imprinting the information in his mind. "Because he's made it personal. He understands what's going on here with the Tsubasa. He understands what they're going through and he needs to see things put right."

"Is that why you've been delaying this medical procedure?"

One of the reasons…

Shikamaru kept his eyes on the map, pretending to be distracted. "Right now he needs this. He needs to do this."

Sakura's palm settled at the edges of the sheet he was scanning. "He needs medical attention, Shikamaru, that's what he needs."

Shikamaru paused, glancing up from under his lashes to level her with a calm but pointed look as steady as his voice. "He needs to do this too. More than anything else right now."

Sakura frowned. "Why?"

Because no one did it for him…

That sad swell of pain ached in his chest and he pulled in a rough breath against it, shaking his head. "For his sanity. One thing to save his life, but what's the point if he loses his damned mind?"

Sakura tugged her hand back as if the words had burned her. She gripped the edge of the table instead. "Shikamaru…"

"You can't just rip away someone's mental foundation," he muttered, wondering if he hadn't done that already. "It will collapse more than his damn body. He needs to believe he's got things under control."

"But he doesn't."

Shikamaru sighed, folding up the map quickly. "I know that. You know that. He can't even process that." He planted his hands on the tabletop, pushing to his feet. "I'm gonna be taking enough away…I can't risk pushing him off the deep end before I pull him back."

Hinata stepped up to him as he walked past. "Shikamaru-kun…"

"Which is why this mission can't fail," he went on, continuing his path into the den to retrieve his flak jacket. "If it fails, I lose my leverage and the Hyūga clan step in."

He heard Sakura huff in confusion. "Well isn't that good?"

"No," Hinata said, shaking her head. "They…they can't know Neji's done this to himself."

Shikamaru shrugged on the Chūnin vest, securing it with a sharp pull. He slotted the folded map away. "That's right."

"Is it?" Sakura threw up her hands, underscoring her frustration with a sigh as she shoved to her feet. "Why? And why has he done this?"

Shikamaru shot her a warning look. "I've already told you more than you need to know. I'm not gonna tell you his reasons."

"But—"

"That will never happen," he uttered, his eyes sharp enough to scratch the statement in stone.

Sakura returned his level stare, sucking hard on the inside of her bottom lip. "Fine," she relented, dropping her shoulders stiffly.

Shikamaru took the chance to move on. "Good. Look, no matter what happens from this point, he needs to know that you guys were just following orders."

"Orders…" Sakura repeatedly flatly, folding her arms as she circled around the table.

Shikamaru nodded, securing his tantō and checking his supplies quickly. "My orders, the Hokage's orders. He needs to believe you and Hinata did this because you didn't have a choice."

Sakura stopped a few paces away, watching his movements with an unfocused stare that indicated she was trying to piece it all together. "Why?"

"Because he can understand that. Direct orders are absolute. He'll understand why you did what you did."

Sakura snorted, but there was nothing belligerent about it. "You mean he'll forgive what we did. But where does that leave you, Shikamaru?"

"Running away really fast."

The humour fell as flat as Sakura's face. "Gods don't even joke…" she whispered, shaking her head with a very grim look creeping in around her eyes. "You can't let him believe that you just manipulated him. You need to tell him the truth."

Shikamaru hesitated, taking a broad step away from her, as if this might eradicate any chance of those words contaminating his clear thinking.

"No. I need to do this right." He paused to flick his gaze across the room, scanning without searching as he carefully catalogued his thoughts. "He's not gonna care about my motives."

Sakura grabbed his arm the moment he turned towards the door. "You don't know that!"

"It doesn't matter." Shikamaru glanced down the length of his arm to her fingers, not meeting her eyes. "He was always gonna hate someone for stepping in."

"So why does that person have to be you?"

He watched her grip tighten, anchoring him in place, begging him to consider an alternative that he didn't have…even if he wanted it.

"Because it does," Shikamaru said firmly, the cool voice of logic speaking for him now, overriding that other voice caged in his chest, rattling his ribs like bars.

"Why?"

"Hokage's orders."

"Liar. You chose this, remember?" Sakura's fingers twitched, then gripped harder. "Let it be someone else."

"No." Shikamaru pulled his arm free, turning his back to her, almost out the door until her next words stopped him short.

"You're his friend! What, do you want him to hate you?"

Shikamaru closed his eyes. That wasn't it at all. It couldn't have been further from the truth. In order to avoid a silence that might result in her drawing her own conclusions, Shikamaru passed a calm, unaffected glance over his shoulder.

"I'm not Naruto. This isn't personal."

Sakura drew her chin back at the flatly delivered words, but he already knew she didn't buy them. "Shikamaru…let it be the family he already doesn't trust that he ends up hating for stepping in. Not you!"

Hinata shifted on the spot, drawing both their gazes – but before Sakura could offer any words of apology the Hyūga kunoichi spoke first. "She's right, Shikamaru-kun."

The Nara blinked, casting Hinata a narrow look. "What?"

"I…I said he needed someone to help pull him back, but…" Hinata trailed off, recovering with a frown. "But I didn't think it would cost this much."

"There's always a price." Shikamaru shrugged, the nonchalance so forced it felt like hefting rocks on his shoulders. "I knew that when I got into this."

"But it's not the same…" Hinata said, her eyes blinking doe-like. "It's different now."

Shikamaru arched a brow. "Nothing's changed."

No sooner had he said it than Hinata's gaze took on a quality of calm understanding that struck him numb quicker than any lick of chakra to his nerves ever could.

"Yes it has…" she whispered.

Fuck…

"Don't do it this way, Shikamaru." Sakura took a step forward, her green eyes pinched, almost sad. "You'll regret it."

I don't 'want' to do it this way…

"It's a small price to pay for his life. Look, right now I need to find him. Fast." Shikamaru turned without a backward glance, his voice clipped and rational as he moved down the tunnel, strides growing in proportion to the speed his mind formulated a strategy. "Hinata, I might need you with me on this."

He heard the quick steps of the two kunoichi behind him.

"I understand," she said quietly.

"What do you need me to do?" Sakura asked, her voice just as clipped, but at least she was operating on the same level. Priority.

Shikamaru tugged out his radio transmitter, waving it for emphasis without glancing back. "I've got my radio on me. Keep yours at hand. I'll only contact you if that procedure is looking imminent." He secured the radio, tucking the transmitter in at his ear, looping the small wire to secure it. "In the meantime, continue the strategy with Hibari. You're standing in for me and Neji."

"What do I tell the others?"

Shikamaru sighed, rounding a broad bend in the tunnel, opening his mouth to respond only to snap his jaw shut. He almost crashed into Naruto, swerving just in time to avoid a disastrous collision, but their shoulders bumped, jolting them both into facing each other.

"Shikamaru! You're okay?" Naruto exclaimed in relief, smiling as he waved around two icepacks. "Didn't think you'd be…" he trailed off, his eyes trailing from Shikamaru's flak-jacket, to the transmitter in his ear.

Shikamaru cursed inwardly, glancing along the tunnel to indicate a lack of patience and time. "I'm fine. Need to get mo—"

"If you're goin' after Neji…" Naruto's fingers crushed the ice in the packs. "Then I'm comin' with you."

"No. You're staying here."

"Yeah, like right." Naruto snorted and dropped the icepacks so he could clap feeling back into his numbed hands.

Shikamaru kept his face as unsmiling as his tone. "I mean it."

Sakura came to his support, shifting around into view. "Naruto, I need you here."

"Are you crazy, Shikamaru?" Naruto frowned, bristling.

Shikamaru pursed his lips, considering the evidence weighing in favour of that accusation; he opted for avoidance over argument.

He turned to walk away. "We don't have time for this."

He barely took three steps before his exit was barred. Naruto dug his heels in, glaring through blue orbs alight with that troublesome, fervent determination. Shikamaru hardened his eyes and his heart to the good intentions.

"Back off, Naruto."

"Not this time," Naruto growled, that rare seriousness darkening his eyes to a fierce, sapphire polish. "I did that before."

"Yeah, and you said you'd do it again, remember?" Shikamaru reminded, making to step past him only to have his route blocked again when Naruto sidestepped.

"Yeah, do you remember what I said about sittin' it out?"

Shikamaru's lip curled in frustration. "No one got hurt, dammit."

"You dumbass! Don't you get that that included you!"

"I'm fine."

Naruto gaped, glaring as his words tumbled out in a gush. "Neji punched your frickin' lights out!"

"Yeah well now they're back on," Shikamaru muttered, growing increasingly frustrated and concerned with the time he was wasting. "Now take a hint and lay off."

Apparently, brushing Naruto aside in words wasn't quite the same as following through in action. Because the second Shikamaru made to shove past, he found his back flat against a wall – again. His track record wasn't looking good, especially with Naruto's fingers curling into his turtleneck for a grip.

"Naruto!" Sakura shouted, starting forward. "Stop it!"

Naruto shook him once. "I'm not gonna let you walk out of here and get your ass handed to you!"

Shikamaru scowled, glaring down his nose at the Uzumaki as he drew his head back. Naruto didn't leave him a chance to speak.

"I told you I'd fight you on this, Shikamaru. You didn't believe me? That's too bad."

Shikamaru tensed his jaw, glaring daggers. Unfortunately, it wasn't half as cutting as the words rising up the back of his throat, lacing his tongue like razors. He'd used this weapon before on Sakura. He hated doing it, but backed into a corner like this, his options were about as shitty as Naruto's obstinacy.

"Get off," Shikamaru ground out, offering a last chance for Naruto to let go. "I'm fine, alright?"

Naruto shook his head, "Yeah, until you're on the floor again! Neji could have done some serious damage. I'm not gonna let that happen!"

"Why?" Shikamaru snapped. "We let that happen with you every time you chase after Sasuke!"

The words struck sharp and true.

Naruto stiffened as they cut deep, a wounded look tearing across his eyes. His face slackened in a mix of regret and hurt before his lips tightened into a thin, hard line. He squeezed his eyes shut, snapping them open again with a growl.

He shook Shikamaru once, fisting the black fabric tightly as he hissed through clenched teeth. "That's different…"

"How the hell is it different?"

No response.

Naruto's mouth twisted with emotion, nostrils flaring. It wasn't different at all, which in effect, might have made it all the more vital for the Uzumaki to want to keep anyone else from the same stupid danger.

Great, that one backfired…

Thankfully, it had distracted Naruto from the approaching figure edging up behind him.

"Shikamaru," Naruto warned, his voice a guttural tremble. "I'm not lettin' you walk out of here."

Shikamaru sighed and a weak, almost regretful smile twisted his lips. "Yeah, you are."

Naruto frowned, but his confusion didn't hit as fast as Hibari's pressure-point strike. The vice-like grip and dig of the redhead's fingers shut off Naruto's brain before he could process the Tsubasa had snuck up on him.

"Naruto-kun!" Hinata squeaked.

He never heard her. The Uzumaki slumped forward weightlessly as his eyes rolled back. Shikamaru caught him under the arms, lowering him the rest of the way.

"Sorry," he said quietly, letting Sakura and Hinata take over as he straightened up.

He met Hibari's gaze evenly. "Thanks, I think."

Hibari arched a brow. "You have a pretty dysfunctional work ethic with your shinobi, you know that?"

"That's no excuse for you to do this!" Sakura scowled, cradling Naruto's head in her lap.

Hibari glanced down at her curiously, taking no offence. "He'll be fine. Good to see you're still loyal to each other, even when one of you behaves recklessly."

Shikamaru forced a weak smirk. "Not like you'd know anything about being reckless, right?" he posed with complete sarcasm.

"Me? Never." Hibari smiled, but sobered quickly. "What was that about?"

Shit. Think fast.

Shikamaru shook his head. "I didn't pick him for the team."

Hibari made a face. "What team?"

"You said you needed chakra pills from your emergency stash to hold up the large scale barrier jutsu tomorrow," Shikamaru said, tugging out the map he'd slotted into his flak jacket, unfolding it to tap his finger above one of the circled points on the borders of Hanegakure. "From this cabin, right?"

Hibari nodded cautiously. "That's right. There's no way we can cover the kind of ground you need us to conceal without chakra replenishment."

"I know. I have a team heading over now to collect those pills," Shikamaru explained, formulating his on-the-spot strategy fluidly enough to convince anyone he'd pre-planned it. "Sakura will stand in until I get back. She'll keep me briefed via radio."

Hibari shrugged. "Alright, you'll save me a trip. As soon as you get back, come find me. We'll be ready to roll with the plan. Provided you still want to hit the Temple at noon tomorrow?"

Shikamaru nodded, pulling on every reserve he had to keep his expression and patience under control. "Gives us time to set up the barriers and have everyone positioned across the village. Hopefully by then we'll get those answers from Kitori."

Hibari looked at him askance, arching a brow. The expression made Shikamaru's heart stop. It was a look that said the redhead knew something the shadow-nin didn't – but should have.

"What?"

"I just came from interrogation," Hibari said. "Isuka said my mother's already given up the information on how to access the Temple."

Shikamaru's body went cold and still.

"She has?"

"Yeah, to your Hyūga about twenty minutes ago."

---

The door slid open in a sharp scrape, a block of light lancing into the dim interrogation room. Shikamaru's shadow fell across the rough stone of the ground as he moved to stand in the entryway.

Kitori didn't look up, but her eyes traced his shadow.

"Shikamaru," she murmured, ashen lips moving slowly to frame his name. "He's gone, you know. I was waiting for you to come."

Shikamaru's jaw tightened. He turned his head a fraction, enough for his voice to carry over his shoulder. "Stay here."

He didn't need to turn to address Isuka. The skinny woman had agreed to let him have his five minutes before she needed to follow through with orders to sedate Kitori. Shikamaru took a step forward and slotted the door shut behind him, plunging the room back into its sickly, sulphuric shades, broken up by shadows.

A moth battered itself against one of the cracked lanterns.

Kitori watched it absently, her profile obscured by the fall of her hair.

"Shika. Deer…Maru…" she paused, sampling the taste of the word. "Maru is an interesting suffix. Do you know what it means?"

"Circle," Shikamaru said flatly.

Kitori's lip curved behind the fall of her hair, the shadow-play on her face making it barely discernable. "That's too literal…it means something of perfection or completeness. Something that is beloved."

Shikamaru arched a brow, his sharp eyes narrowing further as the Tsubasa woman tilted her head towards him. Any psychological sketch of Kitori would have underscored the word 'psychotic', but the slim, cunning smile she cast his way made him wonder if she didn't qualify as a clinical case of dissociative identity disorder.

This was not the same woman who had bared her figurative throat to Neji.

This was the calmer, colder creature he'd dealt with when they'd discussed strategy and exchanged verbal blows. The grey eyes traced over him calmly, assessing.

Great.

Shikamaru closed the distance half-way, his strides slow but sure. If this was the face she was choosing to wear, then he'd speak the same candid language they'd communicated in before.

He cut straight to the point. "Where is Neji?"

Kitori sat back, humming. "You're worried about him, aren't you? You should be."

"I'm not here to play this game."

"Are we playing, Shi-ka-ma-ru?" she drew the syllables of his name out in a slow, enunciated purr. "I don't think he wants you in the game anymore."

Shikamaru watched her calmly. He could see what she was trying to do. It was so obvious it was painful. Unfortunately, it was irking that irrational thing he'd been trying to ignore way down in his chest. He slipped his hands into his pockets, cocking a hip in a relaxed stance that gave away none of the tension holding him rigid inside.

She may have got her claws into Neji, but there was no way in hell he was going to fall victim to her little mind games. Especially when her mind was about as stable as a landslide; it just needed the right pressure to cave. He'd have used Hibari as the sledgehammer if he'd been able to involve anyone else – but he couldn't risk exposing Neji's instability to any Tsubasa, friend or foe.

Great. Just me and the crazy woman.

"You told him how to access the Temple," Shikamaru arched a brow. "Wonder if he believed you."

Kitori's eyes narrowed, the tip of her tongue slicing across her lips like a viper's.

"He must have done, mustn't he?" She paused, a slow smile twisting her lips. "Else he'd be here with you, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru ignored the taunt. "Good chance for you to exploit that opportunity you didn't take earlier, right? Dangle him a bit of false information and hope he'll bite."

"You care about him," Kitori said. "How much, I wonder?"

Shikamaru blinked slowly and dodged the words. "Or maybe you're hoping he'll do what you can't."

"Is it really that hard for you to admit it, Shikamaru? I'm surprised your shinobi haven't figured it out. But then, maybe they don't know you, or him, as well as they think they do."

"And you're itching for him to 'know' you, aren't you?"

Kitori's eyes flickered as he turned the words on her, a brief flash of vulnerability before she covered it up with a forced smile. "Clever boy."

"So did you point him in the direction of the Temple so he could go "free" some more people?" Shikamaru drawled, rolling out words designed to knock her off her evasive perch. "Or maybe you're too much of a coward to face Ozuku yourself. Need someone else to do your dirty work for you."

Kitori looked away from him, setting her gaze back on the masochistic moth smacking into the lantern. "Do you know what I've learned, Shikamaru?"

Obviously not a lot…and I really don't care.

Shikamaru humoured her with his silence, his mind already counting down the time he had left and the tactics he'd used if she didn't cooperate within the next three minutes.

"I've learned that we can stand in the light as much as we want…hoping that it will purify and burn away the mistakes we've made…" Kitori sniffed, bitterness colouring her voice like an age-old like a stain. "But the truth is, it's only when we stand in the light that we cast our darkest shadow. We are forced to face it…and that darkness is as inescapable as the truth of who and what we are."

Shikamaru shuttered his gaze to a lazy half-mast; it was all he could do to keep from rolling his eyes. He'd heard this fatalistic crap before; just the thought of this woman drawing Neji back into a psychological prison he'd escaped from three years ago was incentive enough to knock her cold before the sedative could .

"Our fate is as fixed as our shadow," Kitori droned, her lips thinning angrily. "It cannot be removed from us, no matter what shade of light we place ourselves under. The shadow remains."

Shikamaru watched her sour layers peeling back with every word, revealing the rotten core of her beliefs. He glimpsed a woman decayed by fear, eaten up with despair. Little wonder she wanted someone to connect to, someone who could relate to her pain – or end it.

So she thinks Neji's that person, huh?

"I know your Hyūga understands this," Kitori whispered, clearly desperate to believe it herself. "Even if he has no mercy for me now, soon he will. Do you know why, Shikamaru?"

Shikamaru frowned as Kitori turned her eyes up toward him. The bitter seed of her obsession buried itself in the tense air between them. But then she made the mistake of watering it with her next words.

"Because he sees me. You cannot know this pain. He knows. I saw it in his eyes just now."

Instantaneously, the thorns of a lethal protectiveness cut up through Shikamaru, twisting in vines around his heart to lacerate any scrap of pity for this woman. Shikamaru's eyes sharpened like volcanic glass; black and cutting. His gaze pierced straight through Kitori, causing her to jolt under the unnerving stare as if he'd stabbed her.

"Not interested in your pain, Kitori. I honestly couldn't care less about you or your tragedy," Shikamaru drawled; his low, bored tones at odd with the dangerous glint in his eyes as he slowly raised his hands. "You're gonna tell me where Neji's going."

Kitori watched his fingers, her grey orbs flickering uncertainly in the lantern light.

"Because if your fate is as fixed as your shadow," he slowly folded his fingers into a familiar seal, "you'd better hope to hell I'm more merciful than he is."

---

The second he disengaged, direction came instantly.

It came because it didn't require anything other than his body; and all his body required were instructions. Neji ran them on a mental loop, an endless stream of orders directing blood, breath and bone. He navigated his path seamlessly along the boughs, following logical signals, functioning on autopilot and the monochrome of his dōjutsu.

The cold detachment of an objective; the safe zone of a mission.

Adrenalin circuited his system like a drug, carrying the orders faster and his body further. He moved with robotic obedience, limbs operating on clipped command prompts.

Focus. Further. Forward. Faster.

He couldn't slow down. Not for a second.

The shrill cry of a bird pierced the dome of his senses, drawing his gaze up to the darkening skies. Kitori's bird hovered on an air current, high above the trees, watching, waiting. He ignored it. He drove onwards, dropping down to ground level, running fast, cutting sharply. Slicing in a zigzag between the trees as he raced a wind he couldn't feel because the numbness deadened everything but the voice of priority.

The mission. The mission. The mission. There.

He stopped abruptly, turned in a smooth, sudden step and reached into his ninja bag, his fingers shaking.

It's adrenalin. Adrenalin. Adrenalin.

He tugged out the jar he'd taken earlier, his grip almost cracking the glass. Rather than reach for the lid, he let it drop from his hand. He watched it shatter and brought the heel of his foot down on the parasitic chakra tag that scrambled out, crushing it in a sickening crunch of glass and shell.

Kitori's bird screamed; the high screech like nails across a chalk board.

Neji reached for the scythes strapped to his back, let his shaking fingers hook into the loops securing the aerodynamic weapons.

He turned a degree to his left, braced his foot and waited.

He could already see them.

When Ozuku's shinobi burst from the trees, the scythes were flying faster.

---

Move, move, MOVE!

Shikamaru felt the burn catch and tear along the leanly roped muscles of his legs. Blood roared in his ears, boiled in his veins, flooding fire inside him only to run cold with dread.

No. I'll make it. I have to make it.

This inner, climatic chaos surged through him in waves, fuelling the speed at which he tore through Hanegakure's forest, surprisingly fleet-footed now that effort wasn't an option; it was an absolute.

He ran faster than he knew he could.

Please…

---

Blood sprayed from the wound in an ugly, arterial spurt.

It slashed red across the white of Neji's robes.

Droplets hit his skin, gathered and dripped along the slant of his jaw.

A choked gurgle sounded.

The Hyūga stared blankly into the bulging, shocked eyes of the Tsubasa ninja, the man's mouth moving wordlessly, his life spurting out of him like a crimson geyser.

Neji didn't blink.

He planted his foot against the enemy's hip and shoved, dislodging the scythe in a squelch. The man dropped at his feet, a bloody hand clawing down his leg. Neji tugged free and stepped over the twitching body, not sparing it a glance as he dipped his wrist, spinning the crimson-laced scythe over in his grip.

A pink mist hung in the air, thick with death, saturated with sweat and blood.

"Brutal," a deep voice murmured from the shadows.

Neji let the scythe fly.

The vicious blade sailed through the air, scraping sparks off a returning blade. The weapons clashed and flew, cancelling each other out as they spun off their trajectories, whirring away into the forest.

Neji straightened up and a regal calm bred from birth settled across his shoulders as he turned toward his target. Blood dripped down the side of the Hyūga's face, along the chords in his neck. It saturated his robes, clung to his skin. Warm and wet.

He couldn't feel it.

His Byakugan flared, pupils gaining eerie definition as his gaze swung even on the figure that stepped forward. The man was heavily shrouded, cloaked in robes as blue-black as the feathers of the large bird perched at his shoulder. Neji could already see his face, even as sinewy hands lifted to draw back the velvet cowl, exposing the heavily tattooed features.

"Hyūga." Ozuku stepped closer, his stride long and steady, carrying the grace and poise of a man comfortable with power. "Impressive, but not what I was expecting. Far too messy. No ninjutsu? I'm disappointed."

Neji ignored the words, his eyes tracing over the tattooed face without appearing to, reading the design in the ink, memorising the imprint of the feathered patterns.

"The first time I saw you, I could see why she liked you," Ozuku remarked, brushing a palm across the navy-shot velvet of his cloak. "Even without your eyes, you'd still be pleasing to mine." The man tracked his gaze over Neji's scarlet splashed skin and robes. "Red becomes you, Hyūga."

Neji blinked slowly, deactivating his dōjutsu once he'd ingrained the imprint of the markings. Ozuku's stare didn't touch him; it hit the wall of apathy Neji kept standing between them, his expression as flawless and smooth as marble.

But just as lifeless.

There would be no seizing up. No gauging of strengths or weaknesses.

Ozuku cocked his head, his thin lips curving in a practiced smile. "The arrogance of Konoha is astounding. Offer me peace? I dislike negotiation as a rule."

"There will be no negotiation," Neji informed with ominous calm.

Ozuku arched his brows, thickened by the markings around his eyes. "You wish to kill me as you killed my brother? How poetic."

Neji turned more fully towards the man, his face stoic, ghost-like eyes empty. "That is not how it will end for you."

"But I know how it will end for you; you and your little shinobi fledglings." Ozuku raised his hands, a reverent gesture directed towards his own sense of supremacy. "You're in my skies now. If you defy me, it's a long way to fall."

Neji tilted his head cat-like at those words, the fractional slant displaying deceptive interest. But it wasn't Ozuku he was looking at; his eyes were tracing the tattoos on the man's wrists and forearms.

Assuming that Neji's attention was focused on his self-inflated moment, Ozuku smiled indulgently. He extended his hand like a God deigning a mere mortal with his grace.

"Come to me, Hyūga. The Priest in me is praying. But the Lord is simply waiting. I'm a patient man."

Neji stared impassively, streaked in blood and grime.

He watched as Ozuku spread his arms in an embracing gesture, the velvet of his shrouded form rippling. "You're going to bring me my greatest wings."

Neji hummed softly.

"Yes," he promised, his breath misting into the cold air.

The vapour didn't have a chance to drift.

Neji cut through it.

He moved in a strobe-like blur; a flash of white and red that startled Ozuku's bird into flight.

Ozuku had no time to pull away.

Neji gripped the auburn head, sliding his other palm along Ozuku's jaw like the flat of a blade, turning the man's face sharply to the side as he set his lips to the pierced and tattooed ear.

"I'll bring you your wings, Priest," Neji purred, a chilling parody of his most sensual tones. "And when I do, you're going to pray that you could fly away from what I'm going to do to you."

On the beat of those words was the crack of bone and cartilage.

With a sharp spin of Neji's wrists, Ozuku's neck snapped like a twig.

The Tsubasa's body dropped, bursting into feathers as the clone puffed away.

Neji stared down at the fluttering plumes, watching them twist and twirl on the breeze.

His hands began to shake, even though the rest of him stood cold and unmoved.

Disconnected, his gaze followed the whispering float of a wayward feather. He watched it drifting above the bloody earth, dusting across and over bodies and severed limbs. Its red-stained tumble stopped just shy of the tree line, losing itself in the evening mists, still pink with gore. Mists that swirled and swayed until, like phantom curtains, the vapours parted as a figure emerged, as silent as the shadows he'd been standing in.

Neji's breath died in his throat.

His ribs tightened.

The numbness cast over his senses began to tingle…treacherous with feeling. Feeling that began to override the instructions running on rote in his brain. The indifferent and robotic processes he'd been operating on began shutting down with every approaching step.

Those feet cut a smooth, slow path straight towards him.

The shake in his fingers reached his arms, an imperceptible shudder taking root.

Neji's eyes widened, that bitter sting blurring his vision.

"Get away from me…"

The figure stopped right in front of him.

Close enough that breath played across his blood-smeared face, warm and smoky. He could feel it in a way he couldn't feel the blood painting his skin.

Time hung like a blade, the cutting edge biting deeper with every spared second.

Neji felt fingertips skim the backs of his shaking hands, tracing along his knuckles and grazing his wrists, trailing up his arms, reaching higher to his shoulders and around to the back of his neck.

The touch settled at his nape, fingers kneading gently.

When Shikamaru's brow tapped his hitai-ate, Neji felt more than his breath breaking.

---

The moon was riding high by the time they crossed the border out of Hanegakure. The tree line began to thin and the soil turned harder, grittier. Earth gave way to rock and the land began to undulate in gentle slopes. Shikamaru traipsed an incline in Neji's footsteps, following the Hyūga up the winding, mossy trail, pebbles rolling and grinding beneath their feet.

He kept his eyes fixed on Neji, not trusting for a second that the Hyūga wouldn't bolt or charge like a skittish stag. The Jōnin hadn't said a word. Nor had he looked Shikamaru in the eye since he'd found him, blood streaked and semi-catatonic after he'd hacked up Ozuku's shinobi and snapped the clone's neck.

At the time, the profound sense of relief at finding Neji alive had washed away Shikamaru's initial dread, but now he could feel it creeping back in again. Chasing Neji down hadn't included any pre-thought action on how to proceed once he'd found him. Shikamaru knew he should have automatically processed every possible way to tackle the situation.

But he found that the answers wouldn't come.

A strange sense of stasis held between them; keeping Shikamaru's mind in a state of limbo. This resulted in him reacting to Neji on instinct alone. Not a smart mode to operate in, but rather than flounder in a state of complete confusion, he chose to just follow the lead of this odd impulse.

So far, it hadn't got him attacked.

Neji hadn't flipped into fight or flight; which meant Shikamaru wasn't posing as a threat. He had absolutely no idea what the hell Neji considered him as at the moment, let alone if Neji was considering him at all. The Hyūga seemed detached, but not in the way he had been before.

Denial was gone, which left dormant disaster or damage control. Yet if that's what Neji was attempting to do, it was hard to tell. It was even harder when Shikamaru couldn't get a look at those eyes. And with the Byakugan active, they were less likely to reveal anything.

Don't tell me I lost you back there, Hyūga.

Neji led them along a tree-lined plateau, then across another apron of rock which sloped up towards the beginnings of a new forest; one that formed the frontier of neighbouring lands. They passed through some small clearings, all carpeted in mist.

Then Neji stopped walking.

Shikamaru paused beside him.

"Here?" Shikamaru asked, his voice sounding rough in his throat.

Neji nodded once, brushing his palm in an arc across the air.

Shikamaru couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. Right where Neji's palm smoothed outwards, brushing flat against an unseen wall as if wiping dust from midair.

The barrier jutsu.

Shikamaru turned his head. "I'm safe to go?"

Neji nodded without a word.

Shikamaru's eyes traced over his profile, laced silver in moonlight.

It didn't distract from the blood – there was a lot of it.

The Nara felt that painful twisting in his chest.

Blinking from his stare, he returned his focus to the unseen barrier that the Byakugan would probably detect as a wall of black. Assessing distance, Shikamaru took a step back and flipped out the map he'd taken from the tunnels. He glanced at Hibari's annotations, hummed and slotted the paper away.

"Right," he sighed, raising his hands to form the appropriate hand seals. "Release."

A second later the air rippled.

A small log cabin shimmered into existence.

It was a humble structure, fashioned into a habitable outpost. It sat nestled amongst overgrown foliage and two small trees. The timbres were worn and flaked, moss-caked around the sawed edges and the guttering had collapsed a little to one side of the roof, with rot setting in around the window frames. A small plaque hung, nailed into the wood, bearing the stone head of an eagle. Erosion had worn away the proud beak, leaving a distorted stump instead.

Neji moved first, gravitating towards the door in a kind of aimless drift.

Shikamaru watched him for a moment and then followed close behind, pausing only to restore the barrier jutsu with the appropriate hand seals and spoken command. He crossed the threshold of the cabin at Neji's heels, ducking his head to avoid the swing of a few talismans that hung from the doorframe. They dangled from thread-like strings, giving the illusion of small, floating spheres.

Shikamaru frowned, reaching up to grip one of the spinning coins.

Each one held an etching of a different bird. Suspended and spinning, moonlight danced off the charms, bouncing segments of light around the room until the door thudded shut.

Shikamaru surveyed the dark cabin.

The creak and groan of timbres was the only sound, save for the soft whistle of the wind through the rafters. The draught left a chill in the air. It appeared to be the one large room, bar a heavily carved door that he assumed led to the bathroom. This stash point must have seen regular use if the Tsubasa rebels had bothered to adorn it with talismans, threadbare rugs and a large bed draped with sheets and furs.

Arching a brow, Shikamaru took a quick inventory of the other details, which included a fire place, several trunks lined along the walls, a few chairs and boxes and what looked like a Shogi table. The rest was no doubt in storage, as Hibari had said.

The squeak of the floorboards drew Shikamaru's focus back from its orbit.

He turned his gaze to Neji, watching the Hyūga as he paced slowly to the centre of the room, standing here in silence, facing the window overlooking the forest beyond. Rather than let that cold sense of dread sink in, Shikamaru rolled his steps into a slow walk around the room, searching for a source of light in some of the large trunks that posed as makeshift tables. He located the firm stumps of warped candles and retrieved a half-used box of matches. He set about lighting the waxy blocks, all in varying states of melt-down.

Soon, soft pools of candlelight brought an illusion of warmth to the cabin, chasing back the dark. Unfortunately, it bore fresh witness to Neji's gory state. The play of orange and yellow across the blood stains looked like fire on the ice of the Jōnin's body.

He'd really done some damage.

And that was just taijutsu.

Shikamaru released a soft breath through his nose, letting the air seep away as his gaze drifted over the Hyūga. Neji ignored him, gazing in silence at the hazy glass of the windows. He stood unmoving, except for the tremble in his slender hands, the veins and sinew straining in a futile attempt to stop it.

God, it hurt to look at him.

Shikamaru shook his head sadly and began to tug off his flak jacket and remove his ninja gear, setting the tantō down first. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, executed with the kind of calm designed to keep Neji both from gauging his intentions and from feeling threatened.

Not that Shikamaru knew what the hell his own intentions were.

Add to that the fact that Neji was more of a threat to him.

None of this mattered though, because as experience dictated, something else tended to take over when his brain stopped functioning in a rational and self-defending state of sanity. Knowing this, he let that 'something else' guide his steps now, approaching Neji with the same measured pace; slow and easy, exuding nothing but calm. He'd done this countless times before with his clan's deer and he hadn't been gouged yet.

Always a first time…

He needed no reminder of just how fast Neji could lash out. A repeat performance might have been pending, but Shikamaru continued on. He came to stand just to the side of Neji, very slowly inching around until he stood between the Hyūga and the window. Neji blinked, not moving his head, though he turned his gaze from one of Shikamaru's shoulders to the other, tracing along the dark fabric of his turtleneck.

Shikamaru waited, observing from beneath his lashes.

He watched the chords in Neji's throat tighten and flex, drawing attention to the blood smeared either side of the elegant but strong neck. Shikamaru couldn't see any wounds beneath the ruined white of his robes. Neji hadn't carried himself in a way that suggested he'd taken an injury.

It was all enemy blood.

Carefully, Shikamaru lifted his hand, fingers held outward, exposing his palm as he raised his touch to Neji's face.

No reaction.

A full minute must have passed by the time his thumb brushed the slant of Neji's jaw, following the firm line until his fingertips touched the Hyūga's neck and traced down along the stained column of throat.

Neji swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet holding between them.

Shikamaru shook his head slowly. "Dammit, please look at me."

Neji closed his eyes, a deep line cutting between his brows as they drew together.

The pained expression gouged Shikamaru's chest and guilt rubbed like salt into the wound. He stung in places he'd never felt hurt before. Not like this. He set his other hand on Neji's shoulder, not hard enough to restrict movement, but firm enough that he could feel the vibration of restrained power, buried deep in the quivering muscle.

"Alright," he whispered hoarsely. "Alright."

Neji kept his eyes closed, drawing a short, sharp breath through his nose, shaking his head. Whatever battle was going on inside him, Shikamaru couldn't step in. With all the answers he had, he could conjure no solution to this. No way to make it better.

Even now, with the answers he had, he was hard pressed not to think he'd have given those answers back, just to keep this look from Neji's face. Just knowing he'd shoved the Hyūga into this arena of ghosts and memories.

God…tell me how to bring you back…

Shikamaru frowned, raking his fingers through long blood-streaked strands, smoothing through the mass of mocha hair to caress the back of Neji's head.

"Neji…" he called softly.

The response was a ragged shiver of the Hyūga's breath and the violent shake of his head as he tried to pull back. Shikamaru felt torn down the centre; one part willing him to step forward, the other part warning him to step back. Caught between these two motions he struggled to find a foothold.

"Neji…" he whispered, raising both hands to the Hyūga's shaking head, slipping his fingers through the swaying bangs to rake them away from Neji's face. "Don't do this."

Neji grabbed his wrists roughly.

Shikamaru could still feel those fingers shaking.

He ignored the bruising clutch and planted his grip at the back of Neji's head, tipping forward to tap their brows. "Neji…God, stop fighting…"

"Get…away from me…" Neji's voice was like crushed rock, hoarse and broken.

Shikamaru pushed down the painful swell in his chest, shaking his head. "Stop fighting me."

Neji's fingers dug in, hard enough that Shikamaru felt the blunt nails cut into the tender flesh of his wrists with every shake of Neji's hands and head.

But he didn't let go.

"Neji…"

"Why…?" Neji whispered against his lips, eyes clenched shut, his voice so raw Shikamaru could barely make out the words, but he could taste the pain in them. "He just…let it go…"

Shikamaru frowned, flexing his fingers as they began to go numb; he used the touch to rub Neji's head. "He let what go?"

"Weak…" Neji whispered, baring his teeth. "He was…weak…"

"Neji…"

Neji hissed, his jaw clenched against a curse, a shout, a scream, Shikamaru couldn't tell.

However, he could tell from the tight silence that Neji had stopped breathing.

Shit…breathe…

With a fair amount of struggle, Shikamaru managed to twist one of his wrists free.

The hot tingle of blood flooded back to his fingers.

Immediately, Neji released his other wrist in a jerk.

"Neji." Shikamaru turned his head to murmur softly against the Hyūga's ear. "Neji, breathe."

Neji shook him off, taking a step back like a confused animal, raising his hands to grip his skull, fingers gnarling against his scalp. Shikamaru looked on, unaware of the emotion betraying itself in his own eyes. He watched Neji shudder, fighting an internal onslaught, his shoulders braced against it.

Swallowing down the ache in his throat, Shikamaru stepped forward and closed his hands over Neji's pale fists, dragging his fingertips through the valley of the bone-white knuckles.

"Breathe," he whispered again, softly stroking the backs of the Hyūga's hands, trying to pull them away from Neji's head. "Neji..."

Neji's shoulder blades jutted like hackles and a low, guttural growl, like a howl denied, rode up his throat. Shikamaru expected to be shoved away, but then that angry sound rattled into something hoarse and tortured, breaking in Neji's throat until he choked on it. The strangled sound cut straight through Shikamaru; straight through the aching bone and muscle of his chest to stab him in a place he knew Neji was already bleeding.

God…tell me what to do…

Shikamaru shook his head helplessly.

Fuck…just tell me what to do to make it stop…

He kept his fingers rubbing along the Hyūga's hands, trying to ease the brutal grip Neji had on his skull; wanting to reach in deeper to rip the Jōnin's pain out by the roots.

He'd never felt this utterly useless.

The ache in the back of his throat was making it hard to speak or breathe.

Tell me how to fix it…please…

Neji's fingers flexed beneath his, forcing Shikamaru to lift his hands away. Before the sadness could grip him by the throat, Neji caught his wrists so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Shikamaru braced himself for violence.

It never came.

Those slender fingers, still shaking, simply remained cuffed around his wrists.

Shikamaru stood frozen, the sting of salt burning the corners of his eyes as he looked on in silence, trying to understand the significance of this moment. He couldn't explain why he felt it, but he knew it.

Neji still wouldn't look at him; those opal eyes remained screwed shut. Shadows and candlelight united to turn the Hyūga's tormented expression that bit sharper, that bit more defined. And it etched itself into Shikamaru's heart as if a hot knife were carving out the image.

Let me fix it…

He almost said the words aloud, but his throat had closed up.

Then he realised that Neji wasn't gripping him as hard as he should have been.

In fact, he wasn't gripping hard at all.

He just held on.

Holding on…

Understanding clicked in Shikamaru's head, dawning on his face with the barest rounding of his eyes. Without thinking he stepped closer, letting Neji keep the lock on his wrists as he bowed his head to set their temples together, rather than their brows. The position aligned the length of their torsos, setting them shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Their left sides pressed close enough together that the bone-deep shudder Neji held in, even as he was breaking, carried through to the shadow-nin.

Every faint shake and shudder Shikamaru felt running through him too.

Every flex of Neji's jaw he felt against his face.

Even the high ridge of Neji's cheek bone, pressing against his own so hard it was as if Neji was trying to push him away. But the Jōnin's fingers remained fixed. And Shikamaru made no attempt to pull his wrists free, giving Neji that control without protest.

He could feel the Jōnin fighting tooth and nail for control.

The Hyūga's body was the damned battlefield, communicating the war waging on inside him. Wasn't that why he'd blocked up his tenketsu in the first place? To stop whatever he was trying to control now.

Let it out…god stop fighting…

Shikamaru felt like some useless spectator on the horizon, able to see the smoke and flames but unable to stop the carnage; despite the fact that at any second he might be a victim to it.

Even knowing this, he still made no move to walk away.

At some point, whatever was tearing Neji up must have waved a white flag, or called a momentary ceasefire long enough for him to catch his breath…because slowly, Shikamaru felt Neji's weight shift.

Slowly, the Hyūga leaned into him.

Just a little.

Shikamaru didn't move, knowing it risked making this moment even more excruciating for Neji. Plus, he could still read the signs – and the lock of Neji's fingers was as clear as crystal.

It was only when Neji released his wrists that Shikamaru very slowly lifted his hands. When Neji didn't tense up, he proceeded to rub lightly at the back of the mocha head set against his shoulder, his other hand smoothing down Neji's spine.

Shikamaru wasn't sure what this was.

It wasn't a hug.

Not quite an embrace.

It was more than either of those things – infinitely more.

And this infinite moment stretched and slowed. The time that had been rushing ahead for the past few hours, driven by panic, pain and probable disaster slowly began to lull its pace.

Time slowed – and although Shikamaru knew it wouldn't last, he slowed with it.

Slow down…

Shikamaru drew a slow breath, holding it deep in his lungs. He let it drift out slowly against Neji's hair, turning his lips against the dark strands. Kneading through the thick mane, he could feel where it was matted with blood.

Need to get this off him…

Shikamaru tipped his chin down, feeling the ragged puff of Neji's breath warm the fabric of his turtleneck. He set his lips at Neji's ear.

"Trust me for a moment?"

Neji said nothing, but he didn't pull back.

Shikamaru took this as unspoken assent and just as slow as he'd kept all his motions up until now, he turned them around and began to back Neji up step by step towards the bed. When the Hyūga's knees touched the mattress, Neji automatically sat, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Shikamaru crouched down between his legs, setting his palms atop the firm thighs, tapping his thumbs lightly.

He gazed at Neji's face, gaunt with an exhaustion leaking from the inside out.

Shikamaru frowned, reaching up to run an affectionate sweep of his fingers through the dark strands. Neji blinked slowly at the touch. His dark lashes had fallen low, almost completely shielding his eyes.

Their gazes still hadn't met.

Shikamaru ached to replace the memory of the last look he'd seen in those eyes.

Look at me.

He wanted to draw Neji's focus toward him, but didn't dare push it. Right now, the important thing was keeping the Jōnin calm and getting the blood off him. How easy or difficult that proved to be was another question.

Don't kill me yet, Hyūga…

Shikamaru let the grim thought slide, not wanting to turn his mind in that direction. He knew that Sakura's words would ram him in an instant if he did. The impact of her questions and accusations had already left a crater-sized dent in a vital part of him. A part that had filled up with a gutting kind of sadness he didn't want to carry. Yet he'd have carried Neji's in an instant, to fix what he'd fractured.

Stop it…just do what you have to do…right now, you have to get this blood off him.

Shikamaru hummed quietly, drumming his fingers against Neji's legs, concluding his thoughts as he made to rise.

He didn't get very far.

Neji's palms settled on his shoulders, drawing him back down until he was forced to drop to one knee to keep his balance.

Shikamaru cocked his head questioningly.

He glimpsed the tightening veins of the Byakugan around Neji's eyes.

Then he felt Neji's hands frame his head.

"I'm alright," Shikamaru murmured, knowing what Neji was checking over. "Nothing damaged, but I think we're even now as far as Knock Outs go."

He reached up to gently brush his fingertips along Neji's wrists, coaxing the Hyūga's hands away from his head. Hands capable of more damage than anyone else he'd ever let this close. Hands which had brought him more pleasure than he'd ever experienced and more pain than he'd ever willingly accept as part of a price.

If it means you live…

Shikamaru traced his eyes over Neji.

He looked like he'd been dipped in death.

The blood like war paint, staining skin pulled tight with pain.

Shikamaru grazed his knuckle along Neji's jaw, then across a proud cheekbone, following the unseen fractures in a broken mask. The raw human pain was slipping through the cracks.

"Neji," Shikamaru murmured, his tones as soft as his touch. "Stop fighting it."

Neji's eyes flickered shut. "Don't ask me to be weak…"

"I'm not asking you to be weak." Shikamaru shook his head sadly. "I'm asking you, for once, to be a little less strong."

Neji's breath rattled out and he turned his jaw into the caress of Shikamaru's hand, half-concealing the expression of grief that shadowed his face. "Damn you, why did you come…?"

Shikamaru felt that wet burn at the back of his eyes. "Why the hell do you think?"

He brushed his thumb across Neji's lips, feeling them tighten into a controlled line fighting back the emotion just shy of betraying itself.

"You think," Neji said, the rough whisper muffled against Shikamaru's palm. "I do…"

The desperate, exhausted humour was so completely unexpected that Shikamaru was momentarily stumped. He stared in wide-eyed shock, feeling a fresh wave of pain pulling at his chest, knowing it must have taken more than just strength for Neji to lower a defence when he was wounded so deeply behind it.

Shikamaru blinked back that bitter sting to clear his vision. "Neji…"

"He did nothing…that is why I…I will always do…whatever is necessary…" Neji whispered, closing eyes that still wouldn't turn toward Shikamaru. "Gods…I'm so tired…"

"I know," Shikamaru whispered back. "I know you are."

He watched Neji clench his shaking fingers in the furs at the edge of the bed. The shudder that ran through the Hyūga was abruptly cut short by a stubborn tightening of his muscles.

Still fighting…tell me how to make you stop fighting…

The shadow-nin set his other hand on Neji's thigh, kneading the rigid muscle, tracing his stinging eyes over all the dried blood. Neji had cut those shinobi down without mercy, some into literal pieces. It didn't take much to guess Neji had been lost in a red mist worse than the one he'd created after that fight.

"Stop fighting," Shikamaru murmured again, concern drawing his brows into a knot.

He kept his palm against the side of the Jōnin's face, his thumb tracing Neji's lips. They drew tighter, along with every muscle trying to ice over and iron out any evidence of the pain Shikamaru could already read in his face.

No play of candlelight or shadow could hide it.

God, he wanted to wash that grief away.

Shikamaru frowned, twisting his wrist to stroke the backs of his fingers down the chiselled hollow of Neji's cheek, following the bitter stains of blood.

Here was one thing at least, that he could wash away.

---