Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ My Reasons ❯ My Reasons ( Chapter 1 )

So, I've been making a new Naruto time-travel fic titled `Spiral'. Let's say Sakura was made to be new hokage after Naruto disappear. Say, Shichidaime Hokage? With Shikamaru as her second in command, Konoha and its allies led a war against Akatsuki and several other Shinobi village. Treacheries, breach and alliances. Naruto left something behind that only he, Sakura and some trusted shinobi knew. In the end of the war Sakura and Shikamaru flung back in time, two years before genin graduation exam.

How is that connected with this story?

Well, this story is taken after they flung back in time. Two years and seven months later a plan had been made for the chuunin exam. As Shikamaru cooled his head the night before the final exam on the roof, he mused.

This is a product of two hours zoning out, brooding and a bottle vodka cruiser to lift the block in my head. Grammar mistakes..., perhaps I'll revise for it later. I tried to make a story from the first person point in view and I'm quite surprised with the result. It's written smoother than it ought to be (compared with my attempt to write from the third person point of view). Maybe I should try this for my main story after all.

Go on with the story.

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My Reasons

Disclaimer: Naruto is created by Masashi Kishimoto through his manga, published by Shueisha and made into anime by Studio Pierrot and Aniplex. The original plot/story line is solely through the Kishimoto copyright. Alteration, new storyline and totally out of character is made into this fic.

Read: This is told from Shikamaru point of view.

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“Live for me.”, that's what she said to me years ago.

Until now when I looked at the night moon in the sky, I thought I didn't regret it for a single bit. My decision it was, the right one.

I held no regret as I saw through her eyes. Or was it her who saw through my eyes? I didn't really know.

I had nothing to live for, and nothing to come back. I heard many stories of soldiers, those who went to a war. There are various reason for them to fight and so to live. Even in most desperate, life and death situation, and in the brink of death. When there's no hope left, their thought would wander to what they held, their precious, the promise they made, to come back. Come back, alive and kicking.

They do, even if it killed them.

“Live for me, if you have nothing to live for.”

I thought I saw an angel. But it's ridiculous, even Yondaime was accompanied by shinigami in his death. In many tale books anee-we read while holding a cotton ball, angels are white and shinigamis are black. And she's nothing of both.

I saw my hand that held the brown tobacco stick on the tip of my finger which in my previous life hardened and calloused from many scar. Wounds of the war. Some were permanently craving my body, big deal. I'd lost count of how many kunai and shin that managed to slip and made their trip on me, I simply didn't care.

Weird, that I was called a lazy genius, shichidaime hokage right hand and big commander. They gave themselves too much credit. When she fell in a puddle of blood and I snapped and slain hundred of enemy-nin, they thought I was high. I simply shrugged it off, I'm just that carefree and reckless of a person. She called me aniki. I thought that's cool, and I called her imotou since then.

A night before everything came to an end, we were standing in front of the newly made memorial cenotaph, on top of Hokage mountain. We were sitting there with three bottles of sake. Each for both of us and the third presenting our comrades whose name listed on the stone tablet.

“Live for me.”

The first time she said it, we were in the middle of corpses of enemy-nin and our own comrades, including our team and families. On the coppery ground and burning woods, the sky was gray from black ashes and it started to rain. I wasn't sure if I was too, crying. Hypocrites says, the best time to cry is in the rain, because nobody can tell the difference. I was in seiza, staying low with Chouji body laying cold on the ground. I pulled the wakizashi slippery grip from his grasp gently and stared at it. I was about to unsheathe it when I heard footsteps coming closer. I didn't give a damn. By the time the blade was separated completely out of its sheath, sounds of the footsteps had stopped, as if waiting for something. I brought the tip of the blade right in front of my abdomen, preparing myself for seppuku. I was ready or so I thought. When I pulled slightly and thrust it, I stopped halfway.

I wondered why.

When I looked at my arms, they were shaking.

If I wasn't sure that I was crying before, then the next I was certainly did, from the strangled sob that went through my throat. I gritted my teeth so badly that it started to bleed, disgusted of my own failure and cowardice. The wakizashi fell down without a clang, the muddy ground from heavy rain seemed to absorb the gravity impact. “Why am I still here?”, a whisper came out from my chapped lips, “Why am I not dead?”. I lost count of the amount of the enemy-nin life that I'd taken, and I didn't want to know how many of my friends and families that had become corpses that day. Adding my own body wouldn't make a difference. Still, I couldn't do it. I cried harder, my hard punch collided with the ground repeatedly. My fingers bent into an odd shape, but I felt no pain. The footsteps came closer again.

# 25 Shinobi rule: No matter what the situation, a shinobi must keep emotions on the inside. You must make the mission your top priority and you must possess a heart that never show tears.

Screw with the rules.

A figure stood in front of me. I didn't give a damn, enemy or ally. If it's an ally, perhaps they're sent to drag those who possibly alive and still in use. If they're remnant of enemy nins, then perhaps they're sent for hunting and dispose purposes. I stayed silent and the figure didn't make any movement beside stood still. As silent as it could be, the only sound that surrounded us was heavy downpour of rain. It's almost sick, the sounds of fallen water that landed on different surfaces. Ground, weapons, hissing of burning woods that collided with rain water and corpses. It's almost like an orchestra, I thought I was going to hurl. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I looked up and she looked at me. I knew her.

My gaze was empty as if daring her to say anything, letting her to do anything. Whether to hit or beating me to death, I just didn't care anymore.

I didn't know if I still managed to feel, but her palm rested on my cheek gently.

“Live”, she said. She was the only one who I allowed to call me aniki, Shichidaime Hokage. I almost forgot.

`I didn't even know why I need it anymore.', she read my eyes.

“Live for me, if you have nothing to live for.”, she said.

She didn't hit me for almost giving up my life.

She didn't dragged me with her super-strength on her shoulder like a rag doll.

She didn't console or offered me a grieving words.

She moved one step backward and brought her right hand forward, her palm opened. I stared at her hand. Thousands of emotions flashing through my eyes at once and she stared back at me, waiting. It was slow and sluggish, but I found my hand in hers and she pulled me up.

“Che, mendokuse.”, the words slipped from my tongue as I looked away and my lips made a small upward curve.

She smiled at me, grinning that cheeky grin of hers. `Live and stand. And I'll lend my strength to you.' She didn't say a word, but one look, one smile, and that's that. The next thing I knew, I laid several meters upside down on the ground. Chouji's right when he said that she packed a killer right hook. I thought I was half wincing half grinning as she half limping carried me to medical tent.

In the first wave of third shinobi war, we won the battle but lost the war. Everything started from there.

I thought when I saw her in hokage robe and smiling contently at the cenotaph that night -as the seventh gulp of sake warmed my body and my head started to sway (unlike her, I couldn't hold my alcohol, much)- , that my answer was right. She just grinned and carried me home by her shoulder (like a five years old) when she saw my first drunken state and dumped me in Kurenai apartment. People thought it's amusing to see a tall man like me dragged around by petite woman, a young woman hokage nonetheless (and some Anbu snickering on the rooftop).

I didn't live in my parents house anymore, seeing I was the only living Nara at that time. She just loved it to see me getting scolded by my ex-sensei wife who shared her sentiment, practically fished me out from the sea of depression and detained me in a single mother apartment with a four years old Hanami-chan (who kept calling me pineapple jii-san, no thanks to Kurenai). I faked pouting and gave her a goodnight hug as I patted her pink hair. That was the last time we spoiled Hanami-chan rotten and bonked in the head by Kurenai-sensei for getting drunk a night before a war.

I grinned like a fool. I knew until today as white ring of smoke flew to the cold sky in my second chance of life, that my answer hadn't changed in the slightest.

 

Author notes

What I think about Shikamaru feeling towards Sakura:

Life is troublesome and death is much more troublesome. The latter was so much more for Shikamaru as he sat on the roof that night. Not because he couldn't, but because he had made an oath to himself. 'I'll always be there for her, even if this is not love.'

I liked the idea about the master, her knight and her lover. Guess where Shikamaru stand.