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Nara Ino sat huddled on the edge of the porch looking out across the yard, a thin shawl wrapped around her frail body to ward off the chill morning air. Her eyes were trained on the eastern sky, which was slowly streaking with deep, rosy bands, but dawn was still a way off. Nevertheless, she waited for the sunrise like a patient sentinel, heedless of the discomfort so many hours of sitting caused her old bones. But it was all right; Ino was used to the dull ache by now. This had become her habit of late, a way of keeping her uneasy heart preoccupied... and her tired eyes from closing.
She shivered, pulling the shawl closer.
A quiet anxiety dogged Ino these days, a creeping darkness that intruded on her dreamless catnaps during the day and haunted her weary steps throughout the night. But beyond the increased restlessness she expressed no hint of worry, and if questioned would merely smile. “Sleeplessness,” she explained lightly, “is simply Nature’s way of compensating me for all that time lost when I was young.”
Time lost to sleep and to dreams... never to return.
Much had changed in Ino. In truth, she did not regret the insomnia. For her life itself had now become a half-awaken dream, and she found herself inclined towards silent introspection, to reminiscing about the past with greater frequency. As with now, while she waited for the sun to break over the tree line, she could marvel in the mottled beauty of the pre-dawn twilight, imagining the ghosts of the dearly departed drifting through the shadowy groves beyond, waiting in silence...
Ino knew that there was great irony in this behavior, given the fiery impatience of her youth - maybe age had finally mellowed her. Or perhaps it was simply the many long years of being married to such a laid-back man.
Thinking about her husband, Ino’s eyes fluttered shut. But she soon opened them again.
There it is again... that feeling...
Ino sighed. She could not remember the first time she’d sensed it - most likely she’d thought she’d only imagined it - but then it began to recur with increasing frequency, especially in the last few months. And now, even during the daytime but especially at night, whenever she shut her eyes, if even for a moment’s rest... there it was.
A feeling of... looseness inside.
Ino couldn’t help wondering if this was a hidden, long-term side effect of practicing the mind-transfer arts. Although it had been years since she’d last employed any jutsu, the sensation was the same - she could feel something slipping free, an internal weakening as if her spirit was finding it difficult to keep its hold on her body. Now her will alone seemed to be holding it in place.
But then Ino’s will had always been a powerful thing.
Perhaps, were he still alive, Ino’s father would have rebuked her for such stubborn willfulness. So many of the Yamanaka clan had passed away like that, peacefully in their sleep, their spirits gone before anyone was aware of their leaving. Before his own passing, Inoichi himself had once said that for ninja who cheated and meted out Death so many times, it was a surprisingly gentle way to pay their final debt.
And yet... not for her.
The low-hanging bands of clouds were turning a pale rosy hue, and the chorus of birds was quickly building when Ino finally heard movement coming from within the house. There was the sound of a screen door sliding open nearby.
“So there you are,” said Shikamaru as he came out onto the porch. She listened to his footsteps come to a stop directly behind her. “Didn’t feel like sleeping again?”
He knew her so well.
“No,” replied Ino, still focused up on the sky. “...You couldn’t either, huh?”
She knew him, too.
Shikamaru sighed heavily, ignoring her comment. Ino heard him shuffle closer and then felt something heavy being draped across her shoulders. “I wish you wouldn’t sit out here all night. It’s too cold for you like this,” he scolded her mildly.
Ino smiled. Yes, she had rubbed off on him over time as well.
“Will you sit with me?”
Shikamaru said nothing, but Ino did not turn around. Without looking, she could see him rubbing the back of his head, appearing to think her proposal over. “Ehh... I don’t know. It’s so much work just to sit down these days.”
Ino tugged at the blanket in an inviting manner. “Come on, old man. I’ll even let you share.”
He groaned. “Troublesome woman,” Shikamaru finally murmured, but with affection, prompting yet another smile from Ino. Maybe some habits never died, but they grew more endearing over time.
With some effort, Shikamaru settled himself on the wooden floor behind Ino. Then he slowly scooted forward until his legs and arms slid around his wife, and he was able to enfold her within the frame of his body. As Shikamaru readjusted the blanket, Ino very briefly shut her eyes, enjoying the warmth of their intimacy. She couldn’t help it. Old as they both were, she always felt young again when he did this with her.
Several minutes passed as they sat together quietly, watching as golden bands began to paint the undersides of the clouds, until Ino spoke.
“Shikamaru, do you remember the very first time you held me in your arms like this?”
To her surprise, he snorted.
“No,” Shikamaru said. “As the story goes, we were both newborns. And it got me banned from your crib in any case.”
Ino laughed, recalling the old tale their fathers had once told them about their first day together in the Konoha hospital. “All right, fair enough - I don’t remember that happening, either. But after that?”
“Hmm... I think we were both in pre-school. I was peacefully minding my own business when out of the blue you tackled me in the sandbox.”
“Out of the blue? It was because you fell asleep and rolled over my sand castle.” Ino clucked her tongue with a long-practiced air of wry annoyance. “I worked so hard on that thing all recess, and it took you all of five seconds to wreck it - and I can’t believe you actually remembered that!”
“You’d be surprised at what I can recall, Ino. I remember all kinds of trivial things that’d embarrass you if I repeated them,” whispered Shikamaru teasingly in her ear. But then he suddenly dropped the playful tone, turning his voice gruffly husky. “And I remember all of the really important ones, too.”
“Do you really?” she wondered softly.
Shikamaru readjusted his grip on his wife.
“...The first time I really remember holding you was during our genin days. That day when Asuma told us we were going to become jutsu partners, and that we had to start practicing together. You were going to pass out - and I had to catch you.”
“I remember that,” said Ino quietly. “I was so upset about it... angry because you weren’t somebody else.”
“I know,” answered Shikamaru. “I wasn’t so happy about having to hold a girl myself. And I was nervous on top of that - I thought I’d wind up dropping you and then you’d clobber me.”
Ino laughed lightly. “I was nervous, too. I thought you wouldn’t even try to catch me and drop me on purpose.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
“I know - I found out,” Ino replied tenderly. “When I opened my eyes afterwards, you were there holding me up... I think I was so surprised that I actually said thank you.”
Shikamaru chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll always remember that moment. Somehow I’d never noticed before then how nice your smile was... when you aimed it at me.”
They fell silent. Feeling sleepiness starting to take over, Ino spoke up again.
“Was that really your favorite memory of holding me?”
“No. That was only my first memory,” answered Shikamaru. “My favorite is the first time I carried you over the threshold of this house. I held you a lot that night.”
“Mmm... you did,” she sighed, tingling with warmth. It brought a rush of fondly treasured memories, including one that occurred in due time afterwards. “My own favorite was the day I told you I was pregnant. We sat out here that night like we are now, and you wrapped your arms around my waist, and just held me...” She snuggled in closer to him. “We’ve had a good life, haven’t we?”
“Yeah...” agreed Shikamaru, sounding solemnly contemplative. “Even though things didn’t go the way I thought they would.”
Ino twisted her head up curiously at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Hmm. For starters, I was going to marry an average woman.”
“I see,” she said wryly.
“And then I was going to have two children. First a girl, and afterwards a boy...”
“But we had twins - and I was so fat!”
“So it was more efficient - and you never looked better,” said Shikamaru with amusement. “I was going to be an average guy and live an average life...”
“Well you really messed that one up, didn’t you?”
They laughed together softly. Lulled by the sound of her husband’s heartbeat, Ino blinked her eyes sleepily. The sun was nearly up now.
Where do all the days go, Shikamaru? It feels like it was only yesterday that I woke up in your arms for the very first time. Time goes by so fast... why does it have to end?
Shikamaru cleared his throat. His hands caressed her arms gently.
“And then... I was supposed to die first,” he finished quietly. “Less troublesome for me.”
Ino drew in her breath sharply.
He knew.
...But of course he knew. For so many years now Shikamaru had been her husband, her teammate, her best friend, her lover... He had known her for what seemed like forever. Indeed, in a sense, he had known her almost from the moment of her birth...
“I can’t close my eyes anymore,” confessed Ino, the weight of her exhaustion returning in full force. “I’m so afraid, Shikamaru.”
There. She finally said it. She waited anxiously as Shikamaru shifted forward.
“...Don’t be,” he murmured gruffly. “You don’t need to be.”
“I can’t help it. I don’t want to leave you.” Ino gripped his arms tightly, struggling not to shut her eyes. “I want to stay right here.”
Shikamaru said nothing, and a broken smile flitted across Ino’s face as she considered her own words. She half expected him to make a perfectly rational comment, to advise her not to ask for impossible things he couldn’t give her...
Instead Shikamaru buried his face in the back of Ino’s neck. His hands came up to enclose hers and pressed tight.
“I was born one day before you,” he said softly, rocking her gently back against him. “And when you leave, I’ll go out one day after. My life encircles yours, Ino - I’ll cradle you forever.”
Something broke.
Tears rolled down Ino’s face, but her heart felt as light as the mist steaming off the frosted ground. As the first rays of sunlight touched her face, she could sense her spirit unwinding slowly from inside, and she let out a grateful sigh. The long night was over.
“Kiss me, Shikamaru,” she whispered faintly. “Please kiss me once more and then... carry me to bed.”
With the greatest of care, Shikamaru leaned his wife back and reached up to cup her chin. Tilting her face towards his, he kissed her long and deeply - a kiss with all the familiar tenderness of a mature soulmate and the ardent passion of a young lover... a kiss composed of their many years together, released into the glow of the reborn day.
Sensing her husband’s arms drawing closed around her, Ino at last shut her weary eyes and felt herself slipping off into the gentle, waiting darkness.
She felt no fear. Her Shika always kept his promises.