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The silence in that room was deafening. The only thing filling the space was the constant, metallic sound of the heart monitors, beeping in a rhythmic, cruel way.
Thirty minutes.
It had already been thirty minutes since they turned off his machines — thirty minutes since, officially, he should be considered dead.
But, stubborn as always, Shikamaru Nara was still breathing.
Ino was there, sitting beside the bed, holding his hand. Her fingers trembled, her chest burned. She stared at that face so familiar, so serene, and yet... so empty. And even so, he was still there. Somehow, he was still there.
Ino couldn’t forget the war against the Ōtsutsuki. The images of that hellish battle remained engraved in her mind: Sai — her husband, nearly defeated, the entire world on the verge of collapse, and she, powerless, fighting from afar, praying that Inojin was alive — that he had survived it all.
It was three endless days of terror and despair. More devastating than facing a hundred Madaras together, those days had marked the end of the ninja world era.
When everything seemed lost, Uzumaki Naruto was brought back from another dimension — like a lighthouse in the darkness — and, with strength and determination, ended the war.
But even with victory, there were no winners, only survivors. That was the bitter truth echoing in her soul, and Temari's words resounded in Ino’s mind:
“There are no winners in a war, only survivors.”
Temari.
Ino would never forget that name.
At first, there was resentment. Temari, with those piercing green eyes, seemed to see right through Ino’s soul. Sometimes, she even imagined that Temari secretly possessed the Mind Transfer Jutsu.
But over time, resistance gave way to friendship. When Temari joined the Ino-Shika-Chō family, everything changed.
With her sharp humor and cutting words, Temari brought balance and strength to the group. Together, they were more than a team: they were a small family supporting each other amidst the chaos of the shinobi world.
But that family would suffer an irreparable loss.
Temari died.
A month before the war started.
She died on her way to visit her brother Gaara, who was fighting to survive after a cruel battle. The news arrived like a brutal blow that pierced everyone’s hearts.
Ino still remembers the emptiness she felt when she received the news — the cold sensation, the lump in her throat, the deafening silence as she looked at Shikamaru.
Temari was not the only one who left, but she was the first light to go out.
The cruel difference was that Shikamaru was still there — his body motionless, but with a heart stubbornly beating, still carrying a silent, deep pain.
Now, looking at him lying on that cold bed, Ino felt a bitter mix of gratitude and pain:
Grateful that Temari wasn’t there to see him like this — to witness her husband, that strong and brilliant man, reduced to a mere shadow of what he once was.
She couldn’t imagine her friend’s reaction if she had to face this scene — the man she loved, tied to machines, trapped between life and death, almost dead in what remained of himself.
Shikamaru had been the silent and essential force during the war, commanding troops with the wisdom and leadership worthy of the 8th Hokage.
But now, gravely wounded in battle, he faced his greatest fight — a battle with no chance of victory: brain death.
It was almost ironic — the brain that housed the brightest mind he ever had was now shut down, an absolute silence where once there was strategy, intelligence, and life.
Today marked thirty days since the end of the war, and the time to keep him alive had come to an end.
His machines were turned off.
But he didn’t seem to want to go.
It was as if, in silence, he was fighting against the inevitable, defying the fate that had already decided for him.
And there, in the silent room, Ino held his hand with a strength no one could see — a silent promise of love, of hope, of farewell, and, above all, of remembrance.
Everyone had already passed through that room. Everyone.
Friends, companions, brothers in war.
Choji, however... Choji practically never left.
Day after day, night after night, he kept vigil by his best friend’s side, as if, by the strength of their friendship, he could keep him tied to life.
But not even the strength of friendship was enough against the inevitable.
In the room next door, Shikadai was also fighting his own battle. Although his injuries weren’t as lethal as his father’s, they had still led him into an induced coma. An emergency surgery to repair a punctured lung. He was breathing, but... every breath felt like a victory.
It was cruel.
It was inhumane.
Fate seemed determined to crush every piece of that family.
“I’ve told you so many things, haven’t I?” Ino whispered, forcing a shaky little smile as she looked at Shikamaru. Her eyes were red, but the tears... they hadn’t fallen. They couldn’t.
“I know... I know you wanted to say goodbye to him...” her voice faltered, choking, almost fading. “But... Shikadai is still in a coma.” She squeezed her friend’s hand tighter, watching the monitor. The oxygen level... it should be low. It should... But it wasn’t. As if... as if he was still fighting.
She took a deep breath, searching for strength she didn’t even know she had anymore.
“Shika... I’ll take care of him, okay? He has me... he has Choji... he has his uncles... even Tenten, probably...” she forced another smile, trembling, almost broken. “I swear... we’ll take care of him.”
And then, the first tear fell.
Ino squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pull herself together. But how? How could she hold herself together, knowing what was about to happen?
She remembered. Oh, Kami, she remembered the screams.
Shikadai’s screams when he got the news of his mother’s death.
The pain, the despair, the collapse of a child who had lost the ground, the roof, the entire universe.
And now... now she would have to look into that boy’s eyes and tell him that his father... his last pillar... was gone too.
What would life be like without Temari and Shikamaru?
Without the dinners filled with laughter, arguments, and drinks.
Without the late-night talks.
Without the times she went to their house after fighting with Sai, and Temari welcomed her with that look that, years ago, scared her, but now had become a comfort.
None of that would exist anymore.
She wiped her face, trembling, and smiled. A hollow, desperate smile.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” she whispered, looking at that body that, even without a mind, still stubbornly remained. “Scared to go... scared to leave Shikadai alone.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath.
“But he’s strong... he takes after Temari.” Her voice faltered. And, for a brief moment, she almost swore she saw a faint hint of a smile on her friend’s inert face.
And then... the monitor beeped.
The oxygen level began to drop.
Ino held back a sob. She knew. Kami... she knew. He was going.
She squeezed his hand tighter and, among tears that now fell uncontrollably, she spoke:
“I promise, Shika... I promise that when we meet again, I’ll tell you everything.” Her voice was almost a whisper, drowned in sobs. “I’ll tell you how he did on missions... I’ll tell you about the trouble he got into... the laughter... his first date...”
She laughed. A broken, desperate laugh, soaked in pain.
“I’ll even tell you about his first heartbreak...” she smiled wider, but it hurt, it hurt so much it burned. “Although... honestly, I doubt that little genius will get disappointed by anyone.”
The sound of the monitor...
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...
The oxygen was plummeting. He was going. Going.
“I’ll tell him... every day... how much you both loved him.” Her voice was now pure sobbing. “Even though... even though he already knows.”
She swallowed hard, nearly choking.
“And... on his wedding day... if I’m still here, in this world... I swear, Shika... I swear...” she squeezed that cold hand once more, “I’ll bring the biggest picture frames with your photos and Temari’s... because, somehow, I know... you two will be there too.”
Ino gasped. Her whole body trembled.
She wanted to say it was okay for him to go. That it was okay to leave.
But deep down, a part of her screamed, begged, begged, that by some miracle, he would open his eyes and say, as always:
“What a drag...”
And, as always, find a strategy to cheat even death.
But... this time, it didn’t happen.
“You can go...” she whispered, her voice broken, “Temari is waiting for you... you both deserve to be together.”
The monitor screamed.
The line went flat.
The heart stopped.
Ino held tight. There was nothing else to be done.
She knew. Shikamaru was gone.
And for the first time in so long, she was sure... absolutely sure... that now, he finally felt alive.
There, on the other side. Where Temari was waiting for him.
And, as her fingers trembled and the tears wet her friend’s face, Tsunade’s words came back to her mind:
“Patients with brain death don’t feel, don’t hear... They don’t exist anymore...”
Lies.
Lies.
Ino knew. Shikamaru heard every word. He thought. He felt. And he left... in peace.
The door opened.
Shizune was breathless, pale.
“Lady Ino...” her voice was an urgent whisper, “Shikadai... Shikadai woke up.”
And it was in that instant that Ino understood.
Now... now she had to take care of the king.