Blood Red Distortion

 

It’s been forever since I’ve written a fanfic of this intensity and level and despite my long absence from the fandom worlds because of my immigration to New Zealand, I’m glad to say that I’m back and the moment that I finish the current book I’m working on I’ll carry on with the rest of my stories.

 

As for this little one shot, I had to break away from my work for a while to recollect myself and what better way than a one-shot that can be enjoyed by both me and many other Naruto fans.

 

I’m happy to be back but also sad because of everything that’s kept me away from writing for this fandom for almost a year now. Anyways, this story had a few warning, not as bad as some of what I’ve written before, but not as innocent either.

 

Warnings:  Spoilers for about the last three months of the Naruto Manga! Madara/Shikamaru as a very rare pairing. Psychological torture and serious dub-con, which if you may, can count as non-con. Also things may not seem resolved in this fic entirely because somewhere along the way I plan a sequel with most of the answers.

 

Well if you have any question post them and your email and I’ll do my best to answer them.

 

That’s all then, please enjoy my Honey’s. I’ll see you some time in the future again.

 

Chapter Notes:

 

‘Talking.’

 

‘Thinking.’

---

 

A deep shuddering breath was tugged into harshly resisting lungs. Infinitely sharp, dark brown eyes frantically observed the world captive to the misery, pain and endless conflict exploding around him. The young heir of Konoha's Nara Clan could feel a shudder of overwhelming sensation racing up his spine and chasing up the erratic rhythm of his heart. His heart now beating excruciatingly against his chest where his mind was thrust into an endless loop of internal and external turmoil. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't even bring himself to look up from the shuddering ground as a battle on epic proportions raged eternally around him.

 

His beloved father; the man he had grown up looking at his back and wishing he was just like him...was dead. Gone forever, lost and no matter how surreal the sensation racing up his spine with disbelief was, Shikamaru knew that his beloved father  was never going to come back for him. Nara Shikaku was never again going to greet him when he returned from a mission, never again would they share a shogi board and never again would Shikamaru get the opportunity to glimpse the rare glimmer in his father's prideful eyes that meant he was not only a beloved child but a shinobi Shikaku could take pride in.

 

And yet, Shikamaru knew that there was not a single moment where he could breathe a word of his endless grief. He had no time to think, to exhale his hitched breath painfully trapped in his lungs or to even offer a moment of silence to the grief he felt crawling through his perspiring skin and throbbing head. There was no time for a single moment spent in peace to collect himself, to allow himself to redefine the inner control he had lost. No, he was caught up in the middle of battle and even though Shikamaru wanted nothing more than to collapse from the sudden emotional exhaustion that crossed his mind and body, he could not help but want to put a stop to the endless pain and suffering around him.

 

To stall this war and change the world for better once and for all. And for that, he admitted that he would need Naruto, the eternal light shimmering at the end of this eternal darkness. Shikamaru could only offer his own strength in return to the child he had loved from times long past. But it was minimal compared to the power of the enemy standing before them now. Even as his intelligent brown eyes instinctively sought out the most imposing presence upon the shattered battlefield, struggling through the murky sorrow in his mind to find a stratagem to defeat them, he could feel the power of that single man crossing his skin. Scrambling through his mind, where those bloody red Sharingan eyes were nothing to take lightly or underestimate.

 

They were so cold as he glanced at them now. It was as if with a single glance, Madara could look directly through his soul and see everything that Shikamaru had wished to hide from the world. Sharply analysing every step his opposition made, knowing every outcome and calculating every factor that would not only bring the most damage to his opponents but also shatter their seemingly irresistible resolve. Those infinitely dark eyes were a ruthless power on their own but when connected to the Rinnegan, they seemed callously iced. Ceaselessly and effortlessly pushing forward his twisted ideals and dreams upon the unwilling souls standing, bravely fighting for their world, beneath his shadowed feet.  

 

When sharp fingernails burrowed painfully into the calloused skin of his palm, Shikamaru could feel the tangible sorrow and pain of losing the father he loved, manifesting itself upon his dirtied cheek as a single crystalline tear streaking through dust. His teeth instinctively dug into the plump flesh of his bottom lip, pulling the pliant flesh between his teeth until the taste of coppery blood was the only catalyst that could drag him back to himself.

 

With a silent but potent curse to the deities for placing him in such a dark situation, Shikamaru dutifully spat the reddened blood dripping from his lip onto the ground and wilfully glared at the enemy. He was forgetting himself in hopes of waking up from this nightmare...forgetting himself in hopes of controlling the uncontrollable but he couldn't stand it. He so desperately wanted to kill the man that was standing before him, desperately wanted to tear him limb from limb and bathe in the warmth of his blood (if the resurrected Madara even possessed it).

 

But even now as he indulged in his vengeful fantasies, he knew that his wish was impossible. He was not strong enough to take on a man such as him and he would never be. No, it was more like he knew his limits and possibilities. And despite wanting nothing but to forget himself for a moment, Shikamaru sure as hell knew that, despite his father leaving him as the head strategist on the battlefield now, there was no way anyone but the Shodiame Hokage had the ability to subdue that man's incredible power.

 

The terrifying sensation of that impossible power was digging into his skin, carving scars through his chakra pathways and made it impossible to mistake just who it was that was the dominant force here. It was like trying to imagine a man stronger than Naruto, even with the bijuu inside of him, with a deadly aura of hate that was nearly thrice as strong as when Shikamaru had first seen Naruto overtaken by the Kyuubi's potent chakra. 

 

'Shi-Shikamaru...your Dad he...' Snapping out of his racing thoughts and everlasting concerns, the youngest Nara bit back the hasty sob that nearly lodged itself in his throat. He couldn't afford to show weakness now, not when more than ten thousand shinobi lives were resting within the palm of his trembling hand. Not even when Naruto's desperate cries and calls of comfort, meant just for him, couldn't offer the least bit of solace to his aching pain. Shivering with the overbearing touch of hated emotion, Shikamaru drew in a shaky breath at the realization that he had subsequently lost everything that had ever mattered to him.

 

But in seeing his friend desperately attempt to collect the Kyuubi's chakra for them all in a last ditch attempt to overthrow the power balance of the battlefield, Shikamaru was saved from shattering beneath the pressure he was placed under. Naruto's selfless actions not only provided him, but every living being upon that battlefield, with something more powerful and potent than a seeming endless power drawn up from a forgotten past. Ever so softly, ever so gently, with a friendly hand Naruto tugged him from the darkness crawling through his heart and soul that threatened to consume him. 

 

'Please do not look so lost, Shikamaru...we'll find a way to win.' That gentle smile, the tender touch to his shoulder. He knew that Naruto had spoken the truth and in that single moment, Shikamaru's mind cleared instantly. His own fingers coming up of their own accord to rest upon the hand that tenderly grounded him by gripping his trembling shoulder. 

 

'Thank you, Naruto.' He said softly so that only the gentle hearted Kyuubi Jinchuriki could hear him. 'I know Chouji!' He finally answered his friend and team mate's concern. The fingers of his left hand now digging into the fabric of his flack jacket, right above his ever beating heart. Scrunching the soft material between his fingers as if it would stave off the pain he felt exploding there and also in hopes of bringing forth the sensation of brewing warmth that Naruto's soft words and comforting touch caused.

 

'We can't grieve yet! We're on the battlefield!' And that was all he said, all that he needed to say and he was right.  All the youngest Nara could do was to take a deep breath and lock away all that he was feeling deep inside the recesses of his mind. For in that moment of realization he had to carry on regardless of his emotions. The world around him had fallen deathly quiet. Brewing the imminent calm before the storm that was surely creeping upon them from all sides.

 

Being provided with those precious few seconds before the world would shatter again, Shikamaru was given all the time he needed to mull over the last of his father's stratagem.  Would it work? He wondered to himself. Sure, his father's strategies were as sound as they came but Naruto...he'd been fighting for so long, enduring the pain both emotionally and physically...

 

Would he be capable of doing what was asked of him before the world ended?

 

Shikamaru did not like to doubt his father but something inside of him told him that there was a clear flaw that no one wanted to see. Naruto may have been incredibly strong but no one knew the emotional damage that the death of others around him could do to him. Shikamaru really did not wish to push such a heavy burden upon his friend, not when the world around him was already crumbling to dust and their hope was so bleak. To the young Nara, it felt as if there was almost nothing left but one's child's tenacity to never give up against two overwhelming men crushing them beneath their feet. One child that was enough to change a world and everyone around him, he harshly reminded himself.

 

But still Shikamaru felt himself staling. There was no end to this pain, no end to the cruelty of reality. Maybe if they surrendered, no more lives would have to be sacrificed? Just maybe...

 

He shuddered suddenly. That creeping, cold sensation from before was back. And even though he was sure he had been imagining it, because surely those blood red eyes were not trained solely on him, Shikamaru's racing mind stopped suddenly. Dark brown eyes glanced up from the trembling ground of a thousand shinobi working together only to be left with a gnawing, numbing sensation of dread building in his stomach. He was sure that he was being watched and sure enough, just as the shadow user looked up, he felt it again.

 

The intensity in that stare, the intensity and turmoil in a single dark red glare.

 

It was aching for something more than just hatred and revenge, something otherworldly...

 

'Found you!' The sensual movements of full lips announced as a hauntingly deep voice reverberated the same words through his mind in a deafening sound of triumph.

 

'It's basic strategy that you should know too, Young Nara. You always take care of the enemy's brain first.' They had been caught. And just like that, he had been captured even before his father's brilliance could shine through on the battlefield. Even as Shikamaru felt his entire world shattering and reconstructing around him, he opened his mouth one last time. Knowing that it would be his last...a shiver of fear transversed his exposed skin as dark eyes locked explicitly with Naruto's one last time. Shimmering with the warning that his lips would breathe only once...

 

'Naruto do not chase after me! My Father...do not betray his memory and strategy. Whatever you do, please stay calm and don't give up, Naruto. Whatever you do, do not give up. I—.' Clutching his head with the sudden exploding pain racing behind his eyes, Shikamaru urgently fought with the weightless sensation crossing his body as something unknown but incredibly fast and strong tugged him through the sky towards the enemies' frontline.

 

He had not a second later until his back slammed onto harsh ground and his breath was stolen from his lungs. A groan of pain lodging itself in his chest as he tried to make sense of the fading and swirling world around him. 

 

'Shikamaru!' He cringed at Naruto's pained cry. A cacophony of shrieking sounds exploding through his hearing that was getting more and more difficult to decipher, he could barely register his internal beloved's voice anymore. 'Teme! I'll definitely...' Shikamaru wanted nothing more than to yell at Naruto to keep his calm and quiet but he knew that it was impossible. Blood was already chocking up his throat and lungs as a well placed kunai charged with deadly chakra lodged itself in his chest expertly.

 

His breath of surprise was troublesome as the kunai, which was surely aided by an elementalist's fire chakra, had his world rapidly fading to black. And only seconds after hearing Naruto's concerned cries staining his hearing, there was a period of silence where only a single voice, that was as haunting and as cold as the underworld, rung unpleasantly as his welcome to the other side. A crumbling pressure deposited him roughly onto the ground, leaving him lying broken and shattered at the man's feet that had taken his father away from him. With his brown eyes too late in pulling away from the spinning Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan hovering above him, Shikamaru was thrust into a world that was not his own. Where everything would be turned inside out and upside down...  

 

'Now come to me, little genius strategist. I'll never let you go now that I've finally found you.'

 

~~~~~ 

 

'Che! This is so troublesome.' Shikamaru thought to himself.  He was not exactly sure what Madara could want with him specifically but it was probably not going to be something he would enjoy. But already the Nara heir knew that he had entered a hopeless situation. He had yet to open his eyes to see the world he was in but the heavy pulse of an incredible chakra in front of him made him aware that his attacker was not very far away.

 

With a ragged stone wall digging into his back, his hands tied in iron chakra cuffs above his head by a hook and his feet barely touching the floor, Shikamaru could only wince at the uncomfortable stretch of his spine and neck. Curling his fingers into a fist to experimentally tug and test the strength of his restraints as hard as he could. As a result the young shinobi had to forcefully bite back a cry of pain as spikes imploded from the chakra cuffs and buried themselves deeply into the flesh of his wrists.

 

'Damn it! He got me there.' He thought to himself. 'They're probably controlled to respond to excessive movement.' Cursing his luck and careless action, Shikamaru bravely tried to bring under control the pain that was throbbing deeply into the flesh of his wrists and numbed the tips of his fingers. Sucking in several short and sharp breaths in hopes of stilling his frantically racing heart and panicked thoughts. He knew that it wouldn't do to lose his own calm now. Not when he still had to analyze the situation he was in and look for a way out of this captivity.

 

Where, even though he could not feel it anymore, Shikamaru was sure that the wound he had received just before he was sucked into this world, posed much the same threat of death as it had before.  And it hadn't even been a minute that had passed on the inside of this man's jutsu. Well aware that a second in the real world could last a lifetime where a Sharingan user controlled the flow of perception of the trapped shinobi's senses, Shikamaru recalled that both Kakashi and Sasuke, who had firsthand experience within Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan, said it was like entering into a world that you could not escape from.

 

Where one would remain at the mercy of the user's will untill fate had been decided.

 

'Keeping your eyes shut isn't going to help in this world, child. Nothing will.' That deep voice declared and the speaker was right, nothing and no one here was going to be his ally and the realization of it made the young Nara shudder. Cringing internally at the sensation of his eyes being forced open without his will. In the distance, with the constant echo of drip, drip, drip from a water leak, Shikamaru tried his best to slow his now frantically beating heart. Using the slowed rhythm of the dripping water as an influence over his body's uncontrolled reaction to Madara.

 

Ever so cautiously and frightened of what may be before him, he himself to gaze unwaveringly at the man in front of him. Just as his senses had perceived moments before, there stood the same man that he had sworn to himself he would not forgive for the rest of his life. Uchiha Madara, the man that he so desperately wanted to murder with own two his hands but remained stubbornly out of reach, seemed to tease his internal resolve ceaselessly.  His hands accidentally jostling the chained cuffs once more and instantly caused him to bite back another cry as those sharp spikes drove deeper and into his flesh. 

 

'It doesn't matter what your thoughts are little one, I can hear every single one of them in here.' That deep voice purred in amusement, stepping right up to the captive so that his wickedly whispered words could be heard with crystal clarity. 'They will not shield and protect you here, nothing will. And as you so generously found out all by yourself, those restraints are triggered to dig deeper into your wrists the more you move and tug at them.' The cruel voice declared nonchalantly.

 

'Eventually they will drain you of all your chakra, Strategist. Hastening the process of your death that has already begun on the outside.' So that was how it was, the young Nara thought to himself. It was just as those haunting words had declared. He could understand a little more now of the terrifying power being held over him. It was not only horrifying knowing that he was already dying on the outside, but knowing that whatever this man's deviant mind had constructed as his fate inside the genjutsu was far more frightening than anything he could think of himself. For surely, it would not be anything pleasant or soothing to his soul. This technique was specifically constructed so that his death, when it finally came after a lifetime spent in pain, it would be something he wished for and not something he would instinctively fight against as his body was doing now. 

 

Tugging his bottom lip between his teeth harshly, Shikamaru attempted to create a sharp burst of pain to distract himself and awaken his mind, but he was not all that surprised when it did not work. He was surprised, however, when a tongue clucked in annoyance by his ear. A thumb calloused but surprisingly gentle, soothing the flesh away from his sharp canines before any blood could be drawn.

 

The imposing figure of Madara, with his pitch black hair falling to his hips in ragged spikes, his vividly red eyes staring down at Shikamaru with a spark of something other than cold indifference, loomed threateningly above him. A frown of displeasure marring his usually controlled features. It was therefore a characteristic response that Shikamaru tried to pull away when calloused fingers gripped his neck. A hand, large and warm, pressed him harshly back against the stone room's wall, calloused but strong fingers digging into the plaint flesh of the young Nara's throat with determination.

 

Instantly the supply of air that kept Shikamaru stable and alive was cut off. Making him squirm and jerk against Madara's imposing form in fear. Brown eyes widening in panic when Shikamaru found that he couldn't breathe. His hands, which he had tried to keep very still, also moved in reaction. Tugging and fighting the bonds that kept him restrained, his fingers scrabbling desperately against the pain shooting numbingly up his arms. Those spikes dug ever deeper, allowing rivulets of blood to snake down his skin and trail red down his arms and shoulders. 

 

The palms of his hands were red and raw with the clenching and unclenching of his fingernails in protest to his loss of air. Shuddering at the pained sensations, Shikamaru struggled to keep himself from falling limp against the imposing presence of his captor. Whose body, uncovered of its impenetrable red armour, was now dressed in a loose black hakama, an uwagi of the same colour and kept closed by an obi of contrasting white. It was a testament to the young shadow user that Madara thought he was no real threat to him.

 

But all the same, the pleasing sensation of a hard and perfectly contoured body pressing against him so closely was heady and overwhelmingly enjoyable all on its own. It reminded him subtly of times spent in the throes of passion, abandoned to the troubles of the outside world and despite the dark intent he saw shimmering in red eyes, this was definitely no simple ploy to kill him.

 

No, this was rather a play of dominance on Madara's part in hopes of shattering his opponent's will before he satiated his own sadistic pleasure.

 

But it would not work on Shikamaru. Even as ever so slowly and subtly the air was stolen from his lungs and body, he had a calculating mind enough to know partly what was running through the other shinobi's mind. Even as black spots danced evocatively in front of his fading vision, Shikamaru glared daringly at his overpowering opponent.

 

He may have been temporarily thrown off of his attempts to escape but his mind was never once halted in thinking of a solution to his problem.

 

The moment those fingers loosened around his neck and incredible pain flashed deeply inside of him, Shikamaru forced himself to hold back his pained cry. Except for the hacking coughs that broke through his internal walls of defence and his frantically gasping breaths, he stubbornly refused to show any of the weakness that was afflicting him. If that should happen, he knew that his life would automatically become forfeit. Like many other shinobi trained to endure physical and emotional torture, Shikamaru was able to hold up more stubbornly against actions like these because of his frighteningly analytical mind. Something that always seemed to irate his captors and battlefield opponents. 

 

'W-what do you want from me?' Shikamaru finally gasped through rasping breaths. For the first time he allowed his ragged voice to be heard by the other man, enjoying the touch of surprise that crossed those red eyes when not a single indication of his previous suffering was reflected in his brown eyes. It was easy enough to allow his mind to clearly analyze the situation he was in. Running through thousands of theories of escaping the inevitable in yielding to Madara's will but there was just one thing that gnawed at the back of his mind. 

 

His body may have been dying on the outside but what he couldn't understand was why the ever powerful Madara needed to pull him into such a powerful genjutsu when other opponents raged across the battlefield and he was already as good as dead? Was this some form of a last mercy or was it something else...

 

'T-there's one thing that bothers me.' He gasped out. This time forcing his form to keep still as long fingers tilted his head upwards so that two opposing eyes could clash in fiery defiance and determination. 'It's not as i-if I'm a valuable capture f-for you. D-don't you need your precious Sharingan eyes for something else rather than torturing someone like me? What about capturing the two Bijuu's you so desperately seem to want? Stopping Naruto before everything falls to pieces?' There was a slight smirk of triumph gracing his lips that Shikamaru could not help. Watching with satisfaction as those dark red eyes widened ever so slightly in revelation.

 

It was a small victory that was quickly wiped out though, as a mirroring smirk pulled across Madara's cold lips. A kunai, seeming to materialize out of thin air, cold as ice and sharp as a fine katana, dug threateningly into Shikamaru's pulse point. Fingers abruptly yanking the young Nara's head upwards by his bound hair where Madara made sure that the Shikamaru's scalp collided painfully with the rock wall behind him. Forcing his captive to watch through lidded eyes as his eyes, which Shikamaru had been trying to decipher for a while, suddenly glared at his in a display of unknown emotion. And despite the cold indifference that existed on those pale features, there was something belying everything hidden in those red eyes.

 

Things that could not be solved as easily as Shikamaru thought. 

 

'You are truly a smart one, Shikamaru.' That deep voice purred softly, a stray thigh deliberately slipping between Shikamaru's legs. Willingly taking away the strain from the balls of his feet as the kunai's sharp tip, that had lazily teased circles into his flesh before, now dug painfully deep into Shikamaru's neck. Pain, unlike what he had felt before erupted from the expert cut Madara made right above his artery with a precise flick of his wrist.

 

Blood, warm and thick, slicked a bloodied path down his neck and pooled sensually at the hollow in his throat. Where, in a feral move of blood lust, the master of the Sharingan once more slashed his weapon down several times. Every movement making the strategist flinch internally with fear of the outcome and the potential pain awaiting him. With the very tip of the kunai ripping into the material of his flack jacket and the clothes beneath, Shikamaru could barely hold back a yelp of pain as the chakra infused tip, scorched painfully into his chest.

 

The distinctive sound of his flack jacket, top and mesh armour hitting the ground with a dull thud was punctuated seconds later by the resounding thud of a katon-chakra infused kunai, previously used to leave searing wounds littered across his heaving torso, now burying itself into the rock by his left ear. The quivering kunai coming to rest mere millimetres away from Shikamaru's right cheek, where it hummed a dangerous tone highlighted with a hidden power. Shuddering at the display and wincing at the pain stretching the scorched skin across his abdomen, Shikamaru sucked in a deep breath of surprise.

 

Eyes widening as his head was tilted forward without his consent, his lips accidentally brushing against Madara's surprisingly soft hair as a curious nose pressed into the side of his neck. Dark eyes now rid of their glaring red Sharingan, seemingly fascinated by the increasing rhythm punctuated by his erratically beating pulse point and leaking blood. Fingers traced the skin of Shikamaru's blood stained shoulder tentatively. And despite knowing that this was supposed to be torture, the action made the younger shinobi hiss at the sensations racing across his spine.

 

His captor's touch wasn't painful anymore. In fact it was the complete opposite.

 

Shuddering when Madara's fingers pulled away from him, Shikamaru's breath could only hitch expectantly in his chest when a slick tongue traced the deep wound leaking a continuous flow of blood from his neck. Harsh fingernails soon replacing the gentle soothing. Digging painfully into the wound he had created, where even though Shikamaru could feel the touch of healing chakra, Madara was smearing the deep red of his blood across his pale fingers before bringing the bloodied offering to his captive’s lips.

 

Shikamaru could only stare at the sight. What was supposed to do? He didn't understand what was going on anymore. Whatever this man was doing to him...it wasn't what his thoughts told him he should be doing. In fact, the slow, sensual grinding of hips against his, the deceptively soft touch and teasing nips to his ear...it was almost as if he was a precious lover to be cherished, where he was expected to offer himself to another and—. 

 

'I'll tell you one thing, my Little Strategist. You may not be able to see the answers yourself now, but you are instrumental to cementing my authority over the Kyuubi Brat and his friends. And having you here is perhaps not such a bad thing; I can finally alleviate the boredom in having to wait for everything to fall into place. No one can control you here, Shikamaru. It's only me and you...' Shikamaru panted for breath, eyes clenching shut in defeat when teeth dug painfully into his partially open wound.

 

'Ah!' A cry of pain finally staining his confused lips, causing his captor to purr in contentment at his reaction.

 

'Just you, me and an eternity to play.' 

---

 

Shikamaru blinked rapidly, desperately trying to fight off the blush that was staining his nose. His mind was spinning rapidly when the world shifted and changed around him once again. Bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun streaming in from an open window, dark brown eyes could only stare in disbelief at Konoha's familiar structures painting the scenery within the window pane. The soothing brush of a cool breeze tasting the sweat of his heated skin and made the young shinobi aware that the harsh rock that had been digging into his back had been thankfully replaced by silky soft sheets and feathered pillows.

 

The Nara heir had to fight with his titling equilibrium as everything was thrown out of proportion again. Where he had been standing upright moments before, he was now forced to lie down horizontally. Even though his hands were still shackled, this time to the headboard of a large canopy bed instead, he could still feel the radiating painful sting of those spikes continuously digging into his skin and grinding against his bones.

 

Even in keeping his movements as minimised as possible, Shikamaru could feel his chakra being drained away from him just as Madara had said. The cuffs had a reason in being bound to him, he thought. They served the sole purpose of taking away his fading life force at a faster rate than was expected. And already he could feel it affecting his motor functions.

 

'Fuck!' He swore breathily, his body in itself was not only being drained of chakra but the last of his strength to resist his captor as well. With his brown eyes now rapidly searching the lavish room for his captor, who even though seemed to have momentarily disappeared and left him alone, barely gave the young Nara a moment to think for himself before he reappeared by the side of the bed in a swirl of green leaves. That infuriating smirk of superiority that every Uchiha seemed to possess, spread upon chilled lips as Sharingan red eyes eagerly appraised the prize he had captured.

 

With his footsteps ever so slow as he made his way closer to Shikamaru, calloused fingertips without provocation, travelled from the tip of Shikamaru's cuffed wrists to the sluggishly leaking wound upon his neck. Caressing Shikamaru's skin as only a lover would and pushing warm, tingling chakra beneath the surface of sensitised flesh to distract the Nara's racing thoughts and increase the erratic rhythm of his heart. 

 

'Why aren't you hurting me?!' Shikamaru cried out suddenly. He just couldn't understand this man's logic anymore. Especially not when that calloused finger tip, that ever so softly teased his skin, moved lower and ever so carefully traced one of the smarting burns that his katon kunai had scorched into his captive's flesh. His unexplained actions, as uncharacteristic as they were before, were something that Shikamaru could make little use of his logic for. His teasing touch and exploring fingertips also instantly caused him to arch away from the uncomfortable stinging they caused. Which, as unexpected as it was, was not really hurting Shikamaru at all but was rather chasing a rush of desire through his rapidly heating blood.

 

The inside of his cheek may have been smarting with the bite he had forced upon it in hopes of chasing away the heated sensations dancing across his skin, but his internal struggle seemed to fly out of the window when Madara easily stepped around the bed and forced he legs apart with a simple wave of his hand. Settling his heated skin and heavier body against Shikamaru's as if he had every right to be there. And Shikamaru, his internal and external struggles with himself ever increasing, was instantly stilled by a powerful hand clamping over his already cuffed wrists. Immediately freezing Shikamaru's wriggling body, stilling his kicking legs and  movements before making him drag in a shuddering breath.

 

'You seemed to have forgotten the rules of those restraints, little Nara.' Madara purred seductively into his ear, leaning down so that the soft fabric of his clothes brushed tentatively against Shikamaru's exposed skin. Teasing him deliberately as a warm thumb, gentle but stern in its display, rubbed away the tear of pain that had gathered in the corner of his left eye because of those ever digging spikes. The unexpected movement of his captor also caused Shikamaru to turn his head away from the touch with uncertainty.

 

He really did not know what to think anymore, it didn't seem as if this person wanted to hurt him. But he couldn't trust him either. Not after what he had done to him before and not after what had been done and was going to be done to his friends. And because he had no idea what was going on behind those seemingly emotionless red eyes, Shikamaru tried to distance his mind from his body's increasing pleasure as the man's own chakra coiled around his body pleasantly.

 

'As to answering your question, Pet. I am not hurting you because it is exactly what you expect me to do.' Madara replied simply, a forefinger and thumb brushing against Shikamaru's jaw before he forcefully turned the shadow user's head back to face him. Brown eyes widened in surprise when those fiery red eyes, now filled with a raging lust, flashed dangerously dark with something he had yet to grasp.

 

'It's rude to turn away when others are talking to you, Pet. Don't make me discipline you.' That deep voice announced warningly, a heated body shifting closer to Shikamaru until his captor was firmly wedged between his thighs and pressed against him from above. The sharp edges of his pelvis digging painfully into the Nara's hips. Where even though Shikamaru hated to think of it, he could feel a distinctive hardness brushing up against his thigh with needful purpose. 

 

'I've known the ins and outs of Nara clan for a long time, Shikamaru. And one thing that is always pleasurable in bedding one of them is that they unconsciously respond to pain and pleasure in different ways that any other Shinobi. ' Madara whispered conspiratorially, lips sensually brushing against the shell of Shikamaru's ear with ever formation of a new word. The action causing Shikamaru to clench his eyes shut with a small whimper. The fingers that had gently rested on his jaw now suddenly clamping down against the bone before forcing his mouth open with a tug.

 

Knowing instinctively what was coming but desperately not wanting to accept it, Shikamaru was forced to pull at his restraints again to get away. This time fighting valiantly against the searing pain and the ever powerful hand that was firmly clasped across his wrists.

 

'N-no! S-stop i—.' The moment a sly tongue snaked into his mouth, warm, wet and experienced, Shikamaru and his pleading voice was silenced when surprisingly soft lips closed over his own. That tongue moving over his own to ever so slowly bring forth an endless rush of pleasure racing up his spine and chasing blood through his veins made Shikamaru want nothing more than to respond to it, even though he knew that he shouldn't. His mind was thrust into an endless loop of turmoil, he could understand an enemy's desire to possess his captive's body, but why him? He was nothing special, nothing to be looked at and no matter how much in love he was with a certain blonde haired idiot, why did it feel so sinfully good to be possessed by this man?

 

In lieu of his racing thoughts, Shikamaru still remained cautious with himself. His entire body may have been aching with a different sort of emotional tension that raced through his muscles but a sudden flash of excruciating pain erupting right over his heart and lodging a scream in his throat, made Shikamaru sure that he was somehow exposed to the creeping pain from his fatal wound in the outside world again. Racing through his veins with no remorse and twisting his stomach in panic, Shikamaru could only pant helplessly with confusion as that teasing tongue pulled away from him.

 

His breathing now laboured and punctuated with little gasps and moans that he did not know he could make when faced with such pain, he watched through clouded vision as Madara pulled away from him with a harsh bite to his lip. His captor's nose now hovering mere millimetres above his own, where he bent down to trace the contours of Shikamaru's lips with the tip of his wanton tongue. Red eyes flashing ever so dangerously in anger and frustration.

 

'I've been so generous with you, my little Shikamaru.' Madara said disappointedly, those soft lips pulling into a deep frown. 'I've been keeping away the endless rush pain wracking your body from the outside, sealing it away from your consciousness so that I can offer you a chance to be sent to the afterlife bathed in bliss but you don't want to respond to me? It really hurts, Pet. Perhaps I should just leave you here until those restraints eventually drain all your chakra and hasten your journey to death—.' Shikamaru's eyes widened at the full force of pain now rushing through him. It was as if Madara had opened a flood gate of it and no matter how he tried to control it, it was impossible. The broken scream that raced past his lips was something that he just couldn't hold back and hating himself for it, Shikamaru could only watch helplessly as Madara's smirk danced above his rapidly fading vision.

 

'N-no! S-stop it! Please!' Shikamaru gasped out suddenly. It was the first time he had ever pleaded for anything in his life but he felt that if he spent another moment trapped in that endless loop of pain, he would be driven insane with the unimaginable touch of it against his soul. His entire body was already going numb, his chest was on fire with every heaving breath and even the smallest of touch Madara bestowed playfully across his skin was steeped in excruciating ache.

 

Blood was bubbling from his lungs, filling his mouth and already dripping from his mouth in a steady stream. The deep red liquid tracing a path, drop for drop, towards the white sheets below him. Tainting them in blood just like Shikamaru felt himself in that moment. With his teeth grinding together to fight off another scream bubbling in his throat, he twisted to the side to stare pleadingly into those hauntingly red eyes. His eyes begging desperately for the mercy only the Sharingan master could offer him. 

 

'Ah, you see?' Madara mocked. 'Now that wasn't so hard. But the relief will cost you, my little Strategist. You know how the world works right?' And Shikamaru knew. He knew all too well how the world worked so he could only numbly nod his consent at Madara's words. Leaning into his captor's deceptively gentle touch as those fingers, becoming increasingly familiar in their touches, tenderly wiped away the blood that had lazily been dripping from his mouth. Bringing his blood stained fingers to his own lips to allow his tongue to lick away the evidence of Shikamaru's suffering. The simple act leaving Shikamaru gasping at the new sensation that chased through his body.

 

With his breathing now coming easier to him, the pain rapidly fading from his chest and his vision clarified and returned to him, Shikamaru's  head was left swimming within a haze as the quick transition from excruciating pain to blissful peace left him tiredly reeling with confusion and bodily exhaustion. The hand that had been clamped harshly around his wrists loosened somewhat. Taking with it the iron chakra restraints that had tied him to the bed. However, for Madara's safety, Shikamaru was not surprised that  those imploding spikes were the only thing left right where they were.

 

He may have gained movement of his arms and legs in the exchange of entrusting his soul to this man, but once he resisted again, Shikamaru knew that those relentless chakra absorbers would carve their paths deeper and deeper into his chakra channels and flesh. This was no mere game anymore, Shikamaru decided, this man had already shown his easy dominance over him and Shikamaru knew he was going to be obeying every word he spoke from now. Anything to escape the rushing fear that his oncoming death brought and the inescapable will to forget that he was not going to be coming out of this one alive.

 

'That's a good boy, Shikamaru.' Madara praised, sitting back to hold out his hand expectantly. 'Now come to me. I won't hurt you anymore, I promise.' As reluctant as he was to believe those words, said shinobi obeyed the Sharingan master all the same. Crawling across the few feet of empty space between captive and captor until he came to rest upon the man's thigh as indicated.

 

Revelling in the soft touch of fingers burying in his soft hair and untying the tie, Shikamaru could only sigh in relief as the aching throb in his head was lessened. This time when his chin was tilted upwards and a tongue pushed expectantly against his lips, Shikamaru willingly parted his mouth in an offering of peace. Enjoying the push and pull, nips and touches of their tongues twinning together in a dance of everlasting bliss and a duel of pleasure. For the first time in his life, Shikamaru ignored the alarm bells ringing through his head and shut off his ever annoyingly racing thoughts. His arms automatically wrapping around Madara's neck as he tugged his body closer to his captor's.

 

Twining his fingers through luxuriously inky black locks that sensually danced across his fingertips, encasing him in a curtain of black ink as Madara leaned forward to deepen the angle of their kiss. And despite his internal horror at his own reaction, this time Shikamaru really couldn't hold back his moans anymore.  The delightful chuckle spilling from Madara's lips, his breath licking sensually at Shikamaru's lips as he responded by keening deep in his throat, it was all too much. Arching sharply against his lover when sharp nails raked possessively down his back and left the young Nara desperately trying to sort through the horde of pleasurable sensations.

 

It was deep seated want that now drove his actions forward and emboldening them.

 

'See, I'll never hurt you.' And Shikamaru truly believe him despite the protests in his mind.

 

~~~~~

 

Lost in the sudden haze of aroused pleasure, Shikamaru whined in disappointment when unexpectedly Madara pulled away from him.

 

The string of bloodied saliva connecting their tongues snapping instantly when the older shinobi licked his lips expectantly. His curtain of long hair shielding them both from the world so that not a single eye could be privy to their actions and reactions. But in doing so, it was almost as if Madara had enjoyed the taste of Shikamaru's mouth as he hummed a slow tone of enjoyment to himself. It not only left Shikamaru craving for more but desperate to reach that peak of unexpected pleasure again.

 

Casting his eyes downward when pink dusted his cheeks, Shikamaru muttered the word 'troublesome' before hating to admit it to himself but knowing that he had enjoyed the taste of Madara's dominant kiss too. It still left him with the taste of rapture racing against his tongue and coloured his mouth with fevered bliss. He had no idea that he could experience something so sweet before his death.

 

The deep reverberating chuckle  of amusement drifting from Madara's lips caused Shikamaru to stare at his captor from behind his hooded eyelids. Searching for the answers to the ragging question that were rushing through his mind: like why he was enjoying this? Why his body was responding so headily and why he still offered no form of true resistance about what was happening. It was confusing as hell but Madara's purring voice in his ear was distracting. It was a haunting sound that chased shivers up his spine and heated his already fevered blood. Even more so when those long, elegant fingertips wound around Shikamaru's wrist and tugged him forward, their chests collided together harshly. Strong, overpowering, arms instantly winding around his waist to keep him steadily in place and captive against the soothing warmth that Madara offered only to him.  

 

'That's it, my little Strategist.' Madara purred, teeth tugging playfully at Shikamaru's pierced ear until the young Nara was turned into a proverbial puddle of purring pleasure. 'Now, come uphold your promise and undress me, Pet. There's still more fun to be had.' Even with such an arrogant voice and in the remembrance of the excruciating pain Madara could cause within him, Shikamaru's hands trembled uncontrollably as he reached behind the man's back to search for the white obi's carefully tied knot.

 

Fingers fumbling clumsily with it for a few frustrating seconds before it finally came undone in his hands. The action, eliciting praise from the Sharingan master, shivering when fingernails scratched softly at his scalp in order to urge him to continue onwards. Shikamaru swallowed at his nervousness as his fingers uncertainly slipped beneath the soft black material of Madara's uwagi. The soft fabric tickling his skin, where for the first time Shikamaru willing touched the older shinobi's scarred stomach beneath his clothes. And the touch of warm skin and hard muscle, silky smooth, against his fingertips caused a new shudder of fully awakened desire to race up the young Nara's spine and lodge a delightful moan in his throat.

 

The hiss his feather light strokes pulled from Madara's lips nearly caused the younger shinobi to lose his concentration in untying the uwagi's inside knot. Especially when teasing teeth suddenly clamped down against his shoulder harshly. The unexpected pain immediately prompted Shikamaru to arch against Madara with a keen displaying his shivering excitement deeply within his throat. Sensitized fingers hastily scrabbling with new resolve to rid the Sharingan master of his black uwagi before he came face to face with a deliciously sculpted chest, was all that mattered to him. And the fact that when it was revealed to him and littered with mouth watering scars and burns that he could follow with his tongue and displayed a long history of dangerous battles was enough to make his breath hitch in his chest.

 

'Oh my, such enthusiasm.' Madara chuckled. Stilling Shikamaru's scratching fingers just as he had managed to undo the knot of Madara's black hakama. 'It'll be much more fun this way, Shikamaru. You know what to do.' And Shikamaru did know the moment a forefinger was pressed against his lips. Tugging the appendage into his mouth obediently and suckling on the calloused fingertip, he was surprised when Sharingan-red eyes flashed dangerously dark with lust and another finger was soon forced into his mouth.

 

Madara's free hand, now moving all on its own in a devious path, easily rid the younger shinobi of the last line of his defence against vulnerability. His pants.

 

The shuffle of clothing and the deafening sound of his own laboured breathing echoing through his ears was increased tenfold by experienced touches cupping his ass and teasing newly exposed flesh. It made a muffled shout rush past parted lips before Shikamaru could stop it and caused his captor to push another purposeful finger into his mouth, all expecting to be coated with his saliva and teased by his tongue. Shikamaru's mind was abruptly distracted however when Madara's hand moved away from his skin to close heatedly around his ever hardening arousal.  The thumbnail that pressed into his slit and smeared the pearly white drops pre-come across the head made him bite down on his offering. The older shinobi seemed un-phased though, merely chuckling and tugging experimentally at the new outlet of frustration he had found.  

 

'Such a sensitive body for a shinobi trained to endure all kinds of torture, Pet. It would have been fun to have taken you on as a lover when I was still alive. Someone like you is a rare gem even amongst the best of lovers.' Madara praised strangely sincerely, pulling his now saliva drenched fingers from Shikamaru's parted lips to give them a coating of his own saliva. And when they trailed down Shikamaru's spine to further tease pleasure from his entrance and sensitive flesh, the young shinobi swallowed another cry of pleasure.

 

'But sadly, Love, you know that won't happen right? The moment you experience ultimate bliss in my arms, you shall die. It is but a small mercy I only grant to you because you seemed to have captured my interest on the battlefield. A mind like yours should be cultivated and controlled by a true master. One I am sad to say I would have loved to take on if I were given more time.' And without warning two fingers, slick and warm, forced their intrusive way inside of Shikamaru regardless of the resistance that they encountered.

 

'Nnngh! Ow!' Shikamaru groaned. His body instinctively arching away from the intrusive touch that chased burning fire up his spine. However, the small reminder that those chakra spiked were digging into his wrists caused Shikamaru to hiss and force aside the hazed rush of emotions and keep still. His lips, out of their own accord and in search of relief, drowned out the warning tone in Madara's voice by kissing his captor boldly.

 

Effectively drowning out not only his own pain with the promise of pleasure that lay ahead but when a tongue twinned with his in an erotic dance for dominance; tasting and teasing every part of his mouth and heating the skin to skin contact that already existed between them, the older shinobi was quietly but expertly driving the younger insane. Even though Madara may have forcefully pushed two fingers into him, they remained still for the moment.

 

Enough to allow Shikamaru to relax against the intrusion and push himself further back so that he could kneel between his captor's spread legs. Emboldened by Madara's breath of surprise, he unashamedly turned his attention to the impressive bulge now present in his captor's hakama. He may have been submissive with this man and his actions towards him, but despite the imminent danger, his mind somehow still wanted to protest this course of action. It was only the deep pain of those spikes that immediately stilled his resisting thoughts.

 

'Your thoughts, however amusing as they are, Pet, are quite busy. I've counted at least six hundred and fifty escape plans, two hundred contingency plans for when I react to them forcefully and the ever rumbling second guesses of your enjoyment at my hands. I enjoy the challenge of breaking my captives here, Pet. But you, Shikamaru. You are different. There is no need for escape here, no need for concerns. Just enjoy yourself for this will be the last memory.' Shuddering suddenly when Madara's moved his fingers within him, the young Nara was surprised when he was pushed further down to the surface of the bed by the back of his neck.

 

'If you can't keep your thoughts still, no matter how overwhelmed you feel right now, I'll give you something to distract that deliciously knowing mouth of yours.' And true to his word, Shikamaru was brought face to face with the man's exposed erection. The headily warm scent of musk, scorching fire and dancing leaves invaded his senses like a rush of gale force winds.

 

Shikamaru leant forward with a lick to moisten his lips. It had been a long time since he had playfully given a blow-job to his sensei  in order to learn the ropes. But seeing the size of a man and the tasting his heady sent, was a pleasure he only indulged in very few time. It was enough to completely and instantly quieten his ever busy thoughts. His mouth, parted and sufficiently lubricated, tentatively wrapped around mushroomed head and the young Nara tasted his first cock in two years with a breathy moan through his nose.

 

Allowing his tongue to tease the sensitive head, he eventually relaxed into his captor's guiding touches to his head. Fingers twining in his long brown locks before tugging every now and then when he did something Madara did not like. The series of groans of enjoyment and hisses of pleasure that spilled from Madara's mouth, urged Shikamaru on more than any other touch could. With his concentration elsewhere, it even soothed him through a third finger entering his passage and stretching for a much bigger entrant.

 

'You're quite skilled, little Nara.' Madara purred, promptly hissing in pleasure when Shikamaru pressed his tongue into the man's slit teasingly. Revealing a little surprise that not many knew about. He allowed his tongue ring to poke and prod at the sensitive flesh to bring forth the ultimate pleasure he could offer to another. 'I've been feeling that little ball in your mouth for a while now. Quite the surprise I must say, especially on a Nara. But then again, you are nothing like any of your ancestors I have come across. Even your mind is sharper and clearer than any other.' And Shikamaru took it as a compliment as he dutifully continued with his task.

 

'That's enough now, Pet. Come.' Shikamaru whined against his mouthful when three saliva slickened fingers were pulled from his body and his head was tugged from Madara's impressive length. 'Good boy. Now, come closer. In my lap, I can tell that's how you want it.' And it was exactly how Shikamaru had invasion being taken for the first time by the one he loved. He wanted to protest against living out his most sacred fantasy with this man that tortured him enough but a warning flash in red eyes halted his betraying thoughts.

 

Following that beckoning hand and closing the small distance between their heated bodies, Shikamaru barely had time to think before the blunt head of Madara's arousal was already pressing into Shikamaru's stretched entrance. His head, thrown back at the unexpected pleasure as his fingers automatically wound in the man's impressive locks, Shikamaru couldn't hold back the low, long moan that reverberated from his chest as the slow penetration.

 

It was so enticing. The touch of lips against his neck, fingernails scratching against his skin and the soft, swaying sensation of inky black hair falling around him in a curtain of ink as he was pressed against the soft sheets of the bed.

 

'Hah! P-please move!' Shikamaru begged softly. The increasingly dizzying sensation of being filled to the brim, fingers tugging and scratching at his sensitive nipples and the scorched flesh of his stomach was enough to drive anyone insane with want, even the ever aloof Shikamaru who always held himself back. Never before had he experienced a sensation of such intensity as Madara began to move. Never before had he wanted something more than now and as it was bequeathed to him in several harsh, deep thrusts, the exploding pain and pleasure made him tug and pull at those black locks intensely and desperately.

 

His cries of pain from before had now completely changed. He wanted nothing more than this blissful rapture to last for an eternity.

 

But it was impossible. He would die the moment he reached his climax. And with the steady pace and powerful thrusts that Madara bestowed upon him in a successive pace of pleasure, Shikamaru knew he wouldn't be able to last very long as it was now. Not when his own arousal was trapped pleasantly between their moving bodies and the frictional pleasure that caused him to arch against his surprisingly gentle lover. Shikamaru could no longer hold back the series of pleas and incoherent words streaming from his lips as his voice, which he thought was quite soft and unassuming, rose in pitch and eroticism.

 

'Such a sensitive body. Such a dirty mouth. It will truly be a shame to let you go, Shikamaru. But, if by chance, you survive this climax by breaking away from Tsukiyomi. I will leave my mark upon your back. A mark that cannot be erased and that will make you forever mine.' Madara breathed raggedly into his ear.

 

'Now hush those falling tears. Dying is not as painful as it sounds; in fact it’s a lot like waking up with nothing but pleasure and calm acceptance.' Caught up in the steadily increasing rhythm of Madara's thrusts and his desperate cries for more, Shikamaru barely had any time to sort through his words and last thoughts before a harsh bite to his neck and a hand pulling his body from the bed to rest against Madara's body caused him to scream. Madara's touch simultaneously burned a pattern of katon-chakra into his back before the young Nara could breathe a word of protest or plead with him to stop the incredible.

 

'Come for me, Pet.' And even though the space between his shoulder blades was bathed in excruciating pain, it was through a terrible haze of both pain and ever increasing rapture that Shikamaru finally lost himself. The eternal bliss of that single moment balanced on the edge of the eternal and mortality was nothing like what he had ever felt before.

 

If this is what led up to his death; then just what pleasures could such a formidable Sharingan Master offer his lovers in the real world? His climax was so overwhelmingly consuming that not a single thought but blank sated pleasure raced through his veins. The pain, the pleasure, it was unbelievable and damning all the same. As the moment he experienced the ultimate peak of unadulterated rapture, his vision already started to fade along with his consciousness.

 

Only one last time did he look up. Glimpsing Madara's pleasure twisted features dancing above him before a gentle, chaste kiss was bestowed upon his lips.

 

'Hush now, no more, tears. We'll meet again someday.' A single thumb, gentle and soothing, wiped away the last of Shikamaru's tears of regret and pain, regret that he never got the chance to love and be loved by the one he had wanted to most. 'Sleep peacefully, child. No more pain.' And he did. The entire world shattered like a mirror, splintering into a thousand pieces as everything faded into an oblivion blacker than night itself and darker than anything Shikamaru had ever seen before. With it, the will in his heart burned as bright as ever with as much desire to return to his loved one's side.

 

---

 

 

'....Kamru...Shi...Shikamaru...Shikamaru...can you...Shikamaru...wake up...Shikamaru...' Brown eyes fluttered open tiredly. An exhaustion born from both emotional and bodily torture drug his body's struggling senses into a downward spiral of confusion and a deep yearning ache erupting across his soul. Where he soon became aware of his head resting comfortably in a warm and familiar lap. Soft and soothing touches were fluttering across the small of his back, a familiar scent from his childhood drifting around his form as it inexplicably lulled his internal suffering to a more manageable level.

 

A voice he had thought he may never have the ability to hear again; hummed a soft lullaby just for him as he rested against the warm comfort only one man could ever provide to his ragging heart and aching soul. A sound so calming and nostalgic that he felt his heart aching painfully in his chest, his lungs stuttering over the tear that gathered in the corner of his eye.

 

'Lo, see the cherry trees that stand in the morning mist, I hear them speak to me in tender tone. In the eve I love to see the waving willows, they stretch their hands to me strolling alone...' So gentle, so calming, so familiar. He felt a sob lodge itself in his throat. It really hurt. The place right above his heart was aching with a yearning to be beside this man forever. He could not understand the pain and the guilt that he felt but the more that gentle voice sung to him, the more the pain increased and nearly crippled him emotionally. 

 

'D-Dad?' He asked tentatively. A hand rested upon his forehead as his voice echoed into the vastness of white space surrounding them. Fatherly and familiar fingers brushing away a few stray tears that he had not realized were escaping from the corner of his eyes.

 

'Hush now, Shikamaru. I thought I told you not to follow after me, Troublesome Child.' He reprimanded sternly. Allowing Shikamaru to turn his head around to stare into those hauntingly sorrow filled eyes that were the exact same colour as his. 'I thought I was so happy to go before you. But seeing you suffer through that, it makes me regret not being able to be there for you...' Shikamaru threw caution to the wind and shook his head vehemently. Raising his hand to trace the path of a single tear that streaked across his father's cheek.

 

How he had longed for this since he had first realized his father had been dead.  For surely to remain by this man's side would be forever blissful and yet something was holding him back, something inside of him kept hesitating in accepting his death...

 

'The living shouldn't comfort the dead, Shikamaru.' Shikaku said warningly. His hand clamping across his son's before placing the wayward appendage back by his son's side. Brushing away a few strands that escaped Shikamaru's hair tie with a small smile of enjoyment. His fingers easily catching another set of tears as they rolled down smooth cheeks in a path of sorrow.

 

Shikaku could see that his beloved child was in pain and as much as he hated to leave him alone, there was not much of a choice left to him. He hummed softly, comfortingly, as he allowed Shikamaru some time to collect himself. Never once stilling his comforting touches and gentle words.

 

'D-Dad...I love you and I...' A finger suddenly pressed against Shikamaru's lips. Easily silencing his soft but heartfelt words.

 

'I know, my gentle child. But you should not be here. The fact that you are struggling to breathe and still the feel the pain of your wound means that you are not dead yet—.'

 

'But Dad I want to stay with you—.'

 

'No, Shikamaru.' Shikaku said sternly. 'There is someone already waiting for you, waiting for you to respond. If you listen carefully, you can hear him calling...' And just as his father had mentioned when Shikamaru strained his hearing he could hear a soft voice calling his name gently. Ghostly fingertips resting against his temple and another hand rested right above his heart. Where chakra that was not his own but potent enough for him to noticed, transversed his chakra pathways and brought with it a stronger awareness of noise, pain and clearing vision.

 

With only a final smile as a goodbye and a soft 'I love you' the bright white plane where he had met his father was shattered in an instant before fading to black.

 

'....maru...Shikamaru...maru...Shikamaru-kun...please...open your eyes...Shikamaru-kun!' A deep, painful gasp of realization jolted Shikamaru back into the stinging consciousness of reality. A cry of pain rushing past his lips in a deep reverberating moan as the yearning in his heart turned into numbing pain and swirling confusion. Jolted away from the touch of unfamiliar chakra racing across his pathways, no matter how warm and inviting it had felt, Shikamaru was instantly terrified that it may have been his attacker and knew that he had to somehow preserve himself and get away. But how? His limbs were so heavy, so painfully numb he could barely feel anything but the unsteady rhythm of his heart.

 

'Please hold still, Shikamaru-kun.' A soothing voice said sternly. 'My medical ninjutsu have never been very good and if you move now, you'll undo what I've managed already. So please, if you don't mind, keep as still as you and please don't fear me, I'm an ally.' Shikamaru struggled to lift open his heavy eyelids to overcome the overwhelmingly numbing sensation racing through his bones. Where, when he finally managed to open them a crack, he could only squint against the glare of a blinding light and vague make out a shape with bright blond hair, blue eyes, a gentle smile and a reassuring voice that he had not yet been able to identify...

 

'Na..Naruto?' He asked softly, his heavy hand (in semblance of how he had reacted to his father) and no matter how difficult it was to move it, rose ever so slowly to rest against the smooth cheek of his helper. His healer offered him gentle smile before softly shaking his head in denial at his statement. The young Nara reeled however when a wracking cough travelled through his body at an alarming rate. Staining his mouth with bubbling blood and the bitter taste of his bile. The nauseous sensation swimming through his stomach causing him to heave for a proper breath that he was struggling to . All in reaction to what seemed to be the entire world moving  beneath him. 

 

'Easy Gama-Bunta, yo! This child's severely injured!' The gentle voice yelled suddenly. The sudden authority in the man's tone caused the young Nara to shiver with realization as the hum of healing chakra that pushed away the dark edges to his vision was not as weak as he had first thought. No, this man held a lot of power in check. Which could turn every which way in a second of his choosing.

 

'I'm sorry but I'm not Naruto, Shikamaru-kun.' He said sadly. 'He asked me to fetch his most precious friend before he left for to chase after Madara and the first. I had to bring in Bunta to help us out a bit since I barely managed to get to you away from them. I'm glad I did though as you seem to be a good friend. And in seeing you safe, I've never seen my son give such a happy smile to me before.' With the blinding smile that Shikamaru could see clearly now, he nodded softly in understanding.

 

'T-then you are Yondiame Hokage-sama?' Nara asked uncertainly, relieved that he had received a nod of a blonde head in correctness to his answer. 'I'm glad the younger generation can still recognize me,' Namikaze Minato said with a genuine smile so close in reflection to Naruto's that Shikamaru felt his heart stutter against his chest at the sight.

 

And surprisingly, as Shikamaru stared openly at the hero of Konoha and his friend's father he felt the pain and his franticly beating heart stilling to a more manageable level and understood that the time to part again would come sooner than he liked. 

 

'I'm going to move us to the medical tent now. I've managed to stabilize you for now but there still blood, but it's not coming from the wound in your lungs...' The Yondiame said with concern. His brow furrowing in much the same way as Naruto's when he was faced with a puzzling problem.

 

'Nnngh!' Shikamaru groaned when the toad-summons shifted his weight again. 'T-that's probably from the mark that Madara left on my back,' He rasped.

 

'Mark?' Minato asked.

 

'Uchiha fan.' Shikamaru gasped. 'Burned in with katon chakra.' He explained simply because he knew it had happened, he could feel his skin pull painfully with the severe burns and the slow leak of blood soaking his flack jacket.

 

'B-but why?' Shikamaru formed a half shrug in answer to the Yondaime's concerned question.

 

'Who knows how the Uchiha think.' He muttered beneath his breath. 'It doesn't matter, though. I'll be fine if you move us, now. You also need to get back to Naruto's side. With you here, it also means the rest of the Hokage have been released from the seal. It's a small mercy but my Father's strategy never saw this one coming. And there is not another strategy that will give us a better advantage over the enemy.'

 

'But...'

 

'Nope, sorry Yondiame. Since you are an Edo Tensei victim and not formally part of the Shinobi alliance, I'm afraid that I outrank you on this battlefield, Yondiame-sama. But the day that I thought I could give orders to someone of your rank, I cannot even think it is so troublesome. Please, this is the only strategy that will work. As the successesor of the Head Strategist, please believe in me a bit.' 

 

'Alright, but this might hurt you.' Shikamaru just nodded his consent. Closing his eyes at the rush pain that streaked through his system, Shikamaru could only offer a brief smile for his savoir one last time before he flickered away to carry out his orders.

 

Just as Shikamaru had told him, the yondiame briefly caught a glimpse of the large pool of blood spreading upon Shikamaru's back before he left. Where upon his back, proudly burned in by a Sharingan master over his victim, was a large pool of blood in the exact same pattern that could not be mistaken as anything but the Uchiha's family symbol.

 

A proof of ownership and shame to the Nara but to others it would become an image of survival against fate. 

 

'Look after Naruto, Minato-sama.' Shikamaru whispered to the fading light that had offered him a new hope. If he was still alive then the best he could do was provide the back up that only Naruto could handle, he thought with a smirk. Because surely, watching those two fighting side by side would be a delight that even he would have given a limb to see. Perhaps if he stayed strong then one day he could face his raging pain and guilt to be grateful for all that has happened.

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SSP