𝕹ara 𝕾hikamaru

“A very,very sexy and romantic birthday to my Wind Queen…

 TEMARI-sama!!!”

Shikamaru Face Study - Sleepy

Shikamaru had lived a hundred lives before anyone ever bothered to look too closely.

A problem child. A prodigy. A man with more shadows than friends.

Neighbors whispered about him—about the late-night arguments with strangers who vanished before dawn, about lights flickering in his apartment as if something moved without him touching it, about the way he walked through the building like he owned every inch of the dim-lit halls.

In front of him, one monitor displayed thermal readings from the west wing, another cycled through surveillance feeds —and the third ran diagnostics on the museum’s laser grid protecting several priceless exhibits.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, one boot propped lazily against the desk while an unlit cigarette rested between his fingers. That was the only part of the job he truly found annoying —not being able to smoke. Still, there was nothing to be done. Museum policy was museum policy.

Besides —it gave him another excuse to keep an eye on her.

And speaking of her…

He flicked a quick glance at the clock, intending to check on her, when an alarm suddenly blared through the security room.

“—that damned thing again?”a slow, irritated sigh slipped past his lips as he rolled his shoulders “Tch. you’re starting to get on my nerves.”

A few keystrokes later, he isolated the faulty sensor that had been triggering false alarms all morning. Five minutes —that was all it took. He patched the firmware remotely, watched the warning icon disappear from thr monitor, then shifted his attention back to the camera network.

Now he could finally check on her.

Usagi. His Usagi.

His fingers moved swiftly across the controls, cycling through the camera feeds in search of her. One screen after another flickered by until, of course —gallery three.

She stood beside an old marble sculpture, hands loosely folded as she spoke to a visiting couple. Animated without being dramatic and confident without sounding rehearsed. Every now and then she’d smile, pointing out details carved into the stone that made the tourists lean in with genuine interest.

She looked…rather comfortable —and shikamaru was glad he could see her like this. See her do what she wanted and without realizing it, he’d watched nearly three full minutes before the tourists thanked her and wandered off. And just as his cursor was about to move to change cameras —the shadows beneath the sculpture moved.

What the fuck?!

Every shadow in the gallery bent inward for the briefest instant, responding to something that wasn’t visible on cameras.

Shikamaru’s expression hardened. His own shadow spreading silently beneath his chair, slipping through cracks and darkness alike until it reached the gallery upstairs. The disturbance vanished the instant it touched Kageo’s aura, retreating before it could fully manifest.

They’re looking already —and what you recently did only proves that you’re becoming exactly what I warned you about.

— — —

By the time the museum closed, the halls had emptied into evening silence. Shikamaru was already waiting outside the employee entrance, leaning against the wall.

His thoughts drifting back to the afternoon, replaying every moment with relentless precision. If he hadn’t been there —what would’ve happened to her? The question lingered and Kageo was unusually quiet.

Had Kageo been right all along? Was this only the beginning? How many demons were out there? What kinds? How long had they been watching?

He hated not knowing. Ignorance wasn’t just troublesome —it was also dangerous. One thing, however, was painfully clear —tonight, all he wanted was to get that woman home and make sure she was safe. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

A passing car’s horn snapped him back to reality and lifting his gaze —he finally spotted her. First thing that caught his attention was her hair. It was a little messier thanit had been that morning, loose strands framing her face —but she was beautiful all the same.

Without a second thought, he crossed the distance between them, reached for her bag, and slung it over his shoulder. His free hand found hers with quiet certainty as he guided her toward the motorcycle, as though there had never been any other destination in mind.

No one questioned him. No one noticed —but something was…off.

At first, it was small. A hesitation midsentence, like he’d forgotten a word that should’ve come easily. Shadows stretching a second too long after he’d already released the jutsu. A faint delay between thought and action, barely there —but enough to irritate him.

Then came the nights. He stopped sleeping entirely some days, not because he didn’t need to—but because every time he closed his eyes, there was something else there. Watching. Waiting for an opportunity to release itself.

Then there was the fact his shadow began to move without permission. Not wildly and not enough to alarm anyone else. Just… subtle shifts. A twitch here and a pull there—like a leash being tested from the other end.

He adapted. Of course he did. He adjusted chakra flow, limited usage, avoided prolonged shadow techniques —unless necessary. And it worked.

Until it didn’t.

— — —

He hadn’t meant to come here. That’s what he told himself. But his feet knew the path too well. By the time he reached the edge of Neji’s property, he was barly upright. Blood soaked into his sleeve, one hand pressed tightly against his side. His breathing was uneven —not from lack of air, but from the effort of keeping something down.

The shadows around him flickered, unstable. For a second —just a damn second— they rose again, tendrils curling like they wanted to reach for something or… someone?

Then he forced them back with a sharp inhale “Don’t…start…” he muttered hoarsely.

Another step. Then another. Fuck! Just how long could he withstand this pain?

He made it halfway across the garden before his knee gave out, dropping him to one side, catching himself against the ground. The snow beneath him darkening bitterly “…troublesome,” he rasped, a faint, exhausted smirk pulling at his lips despite everything.

Yet he didn’t seek out the other. It would only cause more harm than good. Neji wasn’t ready for the potential fall out that could come from others figuring out he was still around (and taking out his own clan one by one)

So he waited. Traveled and continued to do what he did best. Learn and relax. Shikamaru hadn’t sent over the scrolls that he had used, the ones that resulted in his current condition. But that didn’t mean Neji couldn’t venture from his home and get his hands on any material closely related to what had happened.

The day Shikamaru finally did return, Neji just so happened to be out back in his garden, tending to some of the plants there. The snow needed clearing off some of the winter vegetables that he had growing. While they thrived in this weather, to much snow weight and they’d break.

While Shikamaru had been somewhat keyed into Nejis ward, to be allowed in to the safety that his home offered, it still went off alerting Neji that he was there.

Getting up the moment he felt the ward go off, he brushed snow from his hands before turning to go meet Shikamaru at the edge of his garden. Something didn’t quite feel right.

It was almost like someone had come with Shikamaru and was tripping the wards and not tripping them at the same time. Yet, from his view, Shikamaru was alone.

The smell of blood hit him first, a slight curl of his lip forming as the metallic tang hit his nose. This wasn’t good. He watched closely, seeing Shikamaru take a few steps, before collapsing into the snow.

He wasn’t afraid for himself, no, more afraid for Shikamaru. Only one of them here was immortal.

It only took him a few steps to get to the place Shikamaru had fallen into the snow. He crouched down, peering into the pile of snow he had tumbled into.

“You look like shit.” Neji mused softly. He studied the other for a moment, gauging just how much blood he had lost. Neji knew the basics of healing, and then some advanced techniques, but not many. He had thought learning more wouldn’t have been handy to know. It wasn’t like he was hanging out with mortals. But seeing Shikamaru in the snow, his blood turning the snow a beautiful color, he figured he’d brush up on it and maybe learn some new things.

“You’d be better off going back to Sakura and asking for healing than me. Her skills are much more advanced.” He muttered activating his byakugan scanning the other over slowly.

A few hand signs later and the green glow of healing chakra covered Nejis hands as he reached to go over the more damaged part of Shikamaru.

Tendrils be dammed. If they tried to attack Neji they’d have no luck killing him. He’d sit and take the attack if needed if it meant stabilizing someone he once considered a friend

“..I think I’m going soft.” He chuckled looking down and studying Shikamaru again with his byakugan.

A voice slipped into his mind —not heard through his ears, but woven directly into his thoughts.

You thought about dying, din’t you?

It would’ve solved the problem. I watched people die because of you.

The darkness rippled. Slowly, it rose until it formed the silhouette of a man, impossibly tall, its outline dissolving into smoke before ever becoming whole. It regarded him like a teacher watching a stubborn student.

Long before I touched your shadow, you buried rage deep enough to poison your own heart. You are no longer wholly human. You are becoming something neither man nor demon was ever meant to be. Half of you still clings to the man called Shikamaru Nara. The other half has already begun to understand what it truly desires.

I’d never hurt my own people.

The silhouette leaned closer until the darkness surrounding it became indistinguishable from Shikamaru’s own.

Fight me. Deny me. Starve me. It changes nothing. Every time you reach for your shadows… you reach for me.

The world fractured. Warmth spreading through his side.

The nightmare shattered beneath the sensation of healing chakra, dragging him violently back into reality. Firelight flickered against the ceiling. The scent of herbs, woodsmoke, and fresh earth replaced the endless void. Everything was blurred together at first, the room swimming in and out of focus as if he were surfacing from deep water.

His head pounded.

The voice hadn’t disappeared. It lingered at the edge of his thoughts, whispering just softly enough to make him doubt which thoughts were his own.

Shikamaru’s hands flew to his temples, fingers digging into his hair as though he could physically tear the voice from his mind. “Shut up…” he rasped, his breathing becoming uneven but the whispers only grew louder —overlapping until they became impossible to separate from his own thoughts. His composure finally snapped.

“SHUT UP!” he shouted, the words tearing from his throat before he even realized he’d spoken aloud.

Silence followed. His breathing slowly steadied and as his vision finally sharpened, he realized he wasn’t alone. Neji knelt beside him, healing chakra still fading from his hands. For a long moment, Shikamaru simply stared, the panic draining from his face as awareness returned.

“Neji.” A tired breath escaped him. “I didn’t mean to bring this to your doorstep. I guess I…” His gaze drifted to the healing wounds across his body before settling back on Neji. “Thanks… for healing me.”

Ignoring the ache that lingered in every muscle, Shikamaru braced a hand against the floor and slowly pushed himself upright. His balance wavered, forcing him to catch himself before he could fall again, but he refused to stay down.

Do you long for the mountains or the sea?