#yeah idk same

“That seemed to be a big start for multiple people,” Ino comments, pushing her drink aside to make room for her elbows as she leans forward. 

“You and Sakura were fighting even before that.” Choji says quietly. 

Ino rolls her eyes, seemingly angry to even be reminded about her youthful pettiness. “No, doofus. I mean about Temari. Tenten fought her too and aren’t they in a rivalry now also?”

Lee practically jumps in his seat. “No!” He cries, “Tenten doesn’t hate Temari!”

“Neither does Shikamaru,” Ino says so quietly that only Shikamaru seated beside her can even hear it. If she hadn’t been seeking the rise, he would’ve elbowed her. 

“She doesn’t even think she is strong enough to take on Temari! She sees Temari as a challenge to work towards.”

Ino rolls her eyes again. 

“Why he is even here?” She asks, still under her breath but loud enough this time for Choji to hear, and theoretically Lee, though he makes no indication of being offended.

Asuma had canceled on them at the last minute — by cancel, they really meant he just hadn’t shown up, even though they had already ordered his favorite drink. Lee had passed by and sat with them without invitation, but no one had stopped him. It is a little late for Ino’s question, so Shikamaru just shrugs. 

“But you’re working together now. You and Temari,” Choji says, eyes trained back Shikamaru’s face. “Again.”

“I’m not volunteering for the position or anything,” he says, also leaning back. He should’ve ordered some alcohol. “I helped out in the diplomacy office once and now they just keep calling me whenever she comes to town. Plus we both — randomly — were put on committees for the Chunin exams.”

“You went to Suna too,” Ino mutters. He ignores her.

“Okay,” Choji alters, “so not rivals then.”

“There definitely is still a rivalry. He only became a jonin because he didn’t want to lose to her.”

That wasn’t true. He became a jonin because she wanted him to. But he thought it was best not to add any more fuel to the fire of whatever conversation was happening right now. 

“So,” Ino asks, turning to face him, “what is it? How do you feel about her? Are you friends or frenemies?”

They weren’t enemies. Were they friends?

Maybe in the beginning. Then, when he was younger, she had always seemed angry with him. She was always going, always pushing for more and for better, and he had never wanted to stay in front of the crowd. But still, sometimes, she seemed to admire him. She would look at him, speak to him, sometimes, as though there were something better about him —about him, not about his technique or skill or intelligence — that was admirable.

Shikamaru exhales. “Frenemies? That’s the stupidest term I’ve ever heard.”

Ino scoffs. Across from him, Choji takes a slow sip of his tea and thinks of his question. 

“Does she still want to fight you?” 

Shikamaru shrugs. “I think so.”

That seems dangerous though. They spend a lot of time together, but as he thinks about it now, they don’t seem like friends. 

If Choji and Ino are family and Lee is a friend, Temari doesn’t come close to either. Recently, something has transformed. Everything about her seems tight and difficult. Rife with potential. Everything about her is potential. He can feel it. It hurts. Some days, when he is near her, he is scared to touch her, to walk close to her. He’s noticed it for a while now. 

It’s like, suddenly, every single thing about her burns. 

So no, never mind, friend isn’t the right term either. 

“Oh, Shikamaru,” Lee pipes up, earnest in his every movement, “maybe she is in love with you?”

Choji laughs out loud and Ino rolls her eyes again. Shikamaru sighs. “No. It’s not like that.”

Maybe he is reading too much into it. After all, she is a few years older and a few lightyears ahead of him.  

God he should have ordered something stronger to drink. Why the hell wasn’t Asuma here?

“Wow,” Lee breathes, “imagine.” He looks seriously toward Shikamaru. The restaurant suddenly seems too hot. “You should persevere!”

“Yeah.” Shikamaru says warily, leaning even further away and looking towards the door for someone (anyone) else to hopefully appear and alleviate the conversation. “Okay.”

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