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There are people in this world that you know, and then there are people whose existences are so deeply interwoven with yours that they become as much a part of you as your limbs. From these people you cannot hide anything, just as they cannot hide anything from you. The extra energy it takes for them to smile, the falseness of a laugh... you will always notice these things like you would bruises upon your own skin.
For Shikamaru Nara, Ino Yamanaka is one of these people.
That's why when he walks by her clan's main house as early evening strikes, and every window is dark, a strange darkness creeps within his chest.
The war is newly over, and their hard-won peace celebrated each day... but it's not as if the ninja in the villages simply turned in their forehead protectors. There would always be a place in the world for them, no matter how "peaceful" a place it became. Missions were still frequent, crimes still happened -- but there was a shift.
The war claimed countless lives, without regard for station or skill. Some of the best ninja the world had to offer were lost in the carnage. Death had always been a close friend to those in the ninja world, but the scale of the loss was unprecedented and massive. Everyone was affected; the only thing anyone could do was try their best to continue on with their lives in the aftermath...
As clans lost their leaders, their heirs were dragged to their feet to fill the void. The Nara and Yamanaka were among such clans.
Ino has always been a fiercely dedicated person -- she's worked herself to the bone in every aspect of her life. She leaves nothing to chance if she has a say in it, always pushing herself to become stronger, stronger, stronger. She's never really changed, Shikamaru thinks. Always putting her training as a ninja above all else, even as she feigned otherwise...
Ino has always valued a sense of normality in her life. She shops among civilians, worked in her family's flower store through her youth, and makes careful routines. Ninja life means a schedule that could be overturned at any moment, but when she's at home, she always keeps to a strict timetable. She laughs it off as simply needing her beauty sleep, but her teammates know when she insists on being in bed early each night, it's her way of clinging to some fragment of control over her life.
Her attitude didn't change when she became the head of her clan. She took on infinitely more responsibilities during her day to day life, but she never shied away from them. She quickly began to shop less, and overall spent less time on herself. The things she, personally, wanted to do were pushed to the side in favor of what her clan needed. It was a struggle, but every day she fought her hardest to fill the shoes her father left behind. ...Shikamaru was in the same position, but with a key difference -- his mother was alive, and doing what she could to help him. She gave him her support, and though they would butt heads on occasion, at the end of the day he couldn't bear doing this without her. Ino didn't have that luxury.
Ino's mother died when she was very young, and she was raised almost solely by her father. When he was away on missions, some people from her clan would keep an eye on her, but she made it clear from the time she could walk that she was capable of taking care of herself. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being treated as incapable, so she feigned maturity long before she had actually obtained it. Eventually, she had everyone fooled, and was left alone in her large, empty house. She never once complained about being lonely, and she was far from transparent, but Shikamaru could always see the pain in the depths of her eyes. ...So from early childhood, when her father was away, the Ino-Shika-Cho trio would always find themselves together in the Yamanaka clan house. She never asked them to come see her. She never turned them away, either.
And now her father will never return, and she'll always be alone in that house.
Yet just like when she was young, she never complained. She always kept up her bright smile, laughing louder than ever, playing up her extroverted side among her friends. Even as she did, she always insisted to be in bed early. She crafted her facade so perfectly that no one else would be struck by worry when they walked by her house and not a single light was on. But Shikamaru knew better than that. He knew her better than that. She kept to an early bedtime, but she would always push herself right up to the last minute of it before allowing herself to sleep. When he stares at the dark windows, he knows she's awake in there, painfully quiet in the darkness.
It's instinct when he diverts his course back to his own house in favor of hers.
It's easy enough to get inside -- he has a spare key, after all. The door rattles open, and he steps into the pitch black room. He doesn't mind the darkness, it's become a strange sort of comfort when he's surrounded by it. Maybe it's the same sense of control that Ino searches out for herself, but it doesn't really matter; he has more pressing things to do than analyze himself.
Ino he doesn't need to analyze. Most would think her the exact kind of troublesome girl he complains about, but they would be soundly wrong. He knows Ino's mind better than he knows his own -- her way of thinking always makes sense. She's witty, bright, strong, kind, and is somehow never convinced she's done enough. And she's smarter than anyone gives her credit for on top of it all; it didn't slip past him that she had the best overall scores during their academy days. She does things every so often that even he can't figure out, but once he catches up, he sees exactly how she got there. Everything she says or does is so characteristically Ino that he feels secure in her presence. She's not predictable, but she's a constant.
He may complain sometimes, but in his heart he has never once thought she was troublesome. He's given her miles and she's yet to take a centimeter.
She's like the sun. But even the sun goes dark when something large enough comes to obscure its light.
His footsteps are quiet, but he knows she's aware of his presence because she doesn't turn around. He isn't trying to sneak up on her, but regardless, Ino isn't one to be caught off-guard. If she'd thought him any sort of threat, he'd be facing the business end of a kunai by now.
Instead he's facing something he considers far scarier -- a listless blonde on the couch with her knees to her chest. A blanket is draped over her shoulders and pulled around her as if hiding her from the world. Her weary blue eyes are focusing on a little television -- one of the technological advancements since the war's end -- but the sound is so faint he knows she's not really watching. She's just staring at it, the dim light its casting making her features just barely visible.
He won't force her to say anything, not if she doesn't want to. But Ino has never suited the shadows, so he moves towards a lamp to turn it own. A quick glance in her direction shows she'd turned her head towards him, the blanket slipping a bit down her arms. The room isn't lit enough to make out her expression entirely, but he can feel it's a silent request for him to leave the lights off. He obliges her -- it's not as if turning on a lamp is going to help her anyway. Even if she were in broad daylight, she would still be in a deeper darkness than this.
So he sits beside her on her little couch, and neither of them look at each other. She's pulled her blanket around her tighter, as if it will relieve her heart's agony somehow. It doesn't.
They keep staring at the near silent television, and after about half an hour she begins to stir. She's fighting a war within herself, but there's nothing he can do for her more than be beside her. He adjusts himself, an arm finding a more comfortable place along the back of the couch. He's careful not to intrude on her personal space, but she inches closer to him. He lets her slowly make her way across the sofa, never moving from his spot at the corner of it. He won't push her. He's well acquainted with this depth of depression.
It takes her some time, but she ends up right next to him. She loosens her grip on her blanket and it droops around her, but instead of readjusting it, she leans into him. Her golden head carefully lays on his shoulder, and he can hear her slow breaths now. He can hear the way she grits her teeth against them. He knows she's suppressing her tears through sheer force of will alone.
The hand that's on the back of the couch comes down to pull her blanket over her shoulder for her, and he takes the opportunity to give her an almost-hug.
"It's alright." He whispers to her. He doesn't know if it's true. She doesn't either. But it's enough.
Her head tilts down, and very suddenly she's pushing against him. It's nowhere near the force of her pain and suffering, but it puts him off balance and he winds up half-leaning against the arm of the couch and one of her throw pillows. Ino has tucked herself between him and the back of the sofa, with her face nestled against his chest. He blinks at the ceiling, and thinks it's always been this way with her. He's always known her best, and she's always trusted him more than anyone else. He's briefly reminded of all the times he's cradled her while she was possessing someone else's mind. His chest feels warmer when she's awake in her own body, her hands clutching at his t-shirt.
He doesn't want to disturb her, but as her trembling breaths break into quiet sobs, he knows they'll stay this way for a while. He doesn't care, he'll stay as long as she needs. He'll stay forever for her. But if they're going to be like this for a while, he needs to adjust so his arms don't fall asleep. He quickly moves the pillow from behind him so he can lean against it more comfortably, and pulls her around so she's half laying on top of him. She seems alright with this, as she takes her cue to outstretch her legs more, one of them finding a place between his as she wraps an arm around his waist.
"It's alright, Ino." He whispers again because she's still fighting her weeping. This time, she leaves her defenses behind and cries into his chest. He stares up at the ceiling, but runs a hand over her back. It's a gentle gesture, and one that comforts her.
"Shikamaru--" Her voice is unsteady and muffled as she sobs, but it's the first thing she's said since he arrived and the fact that it's his name sends a pang through his chest. She pushes against him with more force, and he responds by holding her a bit tighter against him.
"Yeah." He says softly as he shuts his eyes -- it's dark and the only thing he can see is her crying, and while he can deal with the first the latter he can't handle as well. "I'm here."
Eventually her weeping grows quieter and quieter, until she's simply breathing against his chest. The soft murmur from the television fills the gap left by their mutual silence. There are strands of her hair sticking to her tearstained face, so she lets him brush them out of her way for her. Even after her hair has been neatly tucked behind her ears, and there are no bangs out of place, he continues running a hand through her blonde tresses. There's no reason to anymore. But she lets him.
...
When morning light hits his face, he squints into it and tries to remember when he fell asleep. Ino is limp and has draped her arm across his chest, and though she's not terribly heavy he feels pinned down in the sunlight. He can't bring himself to wake her, so he only moves his head enough that the sun isn't shining directly in his eyes... He's comfortable here with her, and it's difficult to fight the sleepiness returning to him. As he settles in again with her in his arms, he tells himself he's only this comfortable because he's not an early riser. He'd be feeling the same way even if he were home and awake at this time. It's just because it's early.
As he drifts off, he wonders if it's the sun that's so warm or if it's her.
He chides himself for feeling like it's the same answer.