It was Shikamaru's second day of recovery, and it hadn't even taken five minutes for him to communicate through body language how bored he was, judging by his fifth sigh.
"I could go buy you something to keep you entertained," she rolled her eyes jokingly the moment she heard him sigh. "The village is right around the corner."
"I'll come with you."
And so she found herself walking calmly next to Shikamaru, heading toward the village. He was wearing the only clothes he had, his ninja uniform, but had left the headband behind to go more unnoticed. She glanced at him sideways, shaking her head with a smile at how relaxed he looked.
"If you can walk on your own, why haven't you returned to your village yet?"
"Just because I can walk doesn't mean I won't be in trouble if I run into more enemies. I'm on my own right now, and I'm not in good enough shape to just head home like that."
"You think more guys like that might come after you?"
"Could be."
"I guess it makes sense for you to recover before you go."
"Trying to get rid of me already?" Shikamaru glanced at her with a small smile.
"Don't be ridiculous, Shikamaru."
"And what about you? Where are you from?"
"What makes you think I'm not from around here?"
Shikamaru looked at her more directly, saying nothing, and she knew he was analysing her. Judging by what little she knew of him, he had probably already picked up on a thousand little things that gave her away. She wasn't surprised. Even she felt out of place among the villagers. Clothing and language could go a long way in hiding you from untrained eyes, but it wasn't enough to fool a genius. If Shikamaru wasn't a genius, she'd eat one of her boots. She'd only spent a couple of days with him—most of that time in silence for one reason or another—but it was obvious Shikamaru was Smart with a capital S.
In some ways, Shikamaru reminded her of Hermione, but unlike her friend's well-documented brilliance, Shikamaru didn't need to read fifty books to prove he was smarter than average. Everything he did exuded intellect without him even trying. Maybe that was the biggest difference between him and Hermione: her friend had always felt the need to prove herself beyond all limits. She remembered first-year Hermione nearly in tears because she couldn't remember if she had written a name wrong on the history exam, and she knew she'd never see Shikamaru react the same way. It was clear Shikamaru had different priorities, and they certainly didn't involve being number one academically or militarily.
Still, his intelligence wasn't exactly helpful for her given the situation she was in. Shikamaru waited patiently, saying nothing, for her to answer his question.
"Fine. I'm not from around here."
"Yeah. I'd already figured that out."
"I'm from very far away. You wouldn't know the place I come from."
"Hmmm… You're not lying. That's interesting."
Harika sighed as she looked around at the stands and stalls selling all kinds of things, from food to toys. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shikamaru, hands in his pockets, gazing with a slightly melancholic smile at a board that looked like a chessboard, but clearly wasn't. He didn't make a move to pick it up or buy it, but it had clearly caught his attention. She browsed through the handmade porcelain mugs until her eyes landed on a white cup with a wavy shape, decorated extravagantly with lilacs and geraniums. It reminded her so much of Luna, with its bright colours and odd style, that it made her throat tighten.
"You like it?" Shikamaru asked, a mix of curiosity and confusion in his voice.
"It reminds me of something one of my friends would buy. I'll take it."
They said nothing more while she carefully stored her new mug in her backpack. Then she saw him looking at a clothing store a little further down.
"I think I'll buy some clothes. I only have this one set left intact."
"All right. I'll wait here."
Shikamaru nodded and walked down the street. She continued browsing the tables full of goods until her eyes landed again on the open-air stall full of carved wooden objects. The older man, with expert, calloused hands and a kind face, smiled when he saw her inspecting the board Shikamaru had been eyeing earlier.
"I knew that board would sell today," the old man said. "Is it a gift for your man?"
"He's not my- I was just looking. I've never seen a board like this before."
"It's a collector's piece. Anyone who works with wood would know that. A board like this is the kind that gets passed down from parent to child. Trust me."
"I'll take it."
She didn't even negotiate the price. It's not like she was short on money. She didn't know why she bought it, but she remembered Shikamaru's smile and the words he'd said the other night. What would she do if she couldn't decide what to do with her life? That's what he had asked her. He hadn't said it outright, but through his questions, Shikamaru had hinted at what he was feeling.
"And what would you do if you couldn't decide what to do with your life? What would you do if practically everything about your life seemed carved in stone, and you could only follow the path someone else had written for you?"
Those words had echoed in her mind more than once since she heard them, because in a way, Shikamaru reminded her of herself before she broke free and flew on her own. He hadn't said directly that he felt trapped, but he hadn't needed to. Something about his life didn't sit right with him, and it was clear he didn't know what to do about it. Harika realized that it was entirely possible that Shikamaru couldn't change his life, even if he knew exactly what was making him miserable.
She hadn't quite known how to respond to his deep question. She'd asked whether it was the expectations of his clan holding him back, or if there was something else stopping him from being happy. It had been a sincere, if naïve, question—one that had hurt Shikamaru enough for him to abruptly end the conversation. Not because her words had offended him, but because he had realized she believed he was unhappy. It had taken her hours to figure out what she'd said that upset him, and she'd finally realized.
Harika hadn't said directly that she could see his unhappiness, but it had been close enough. And if she, a total stranger, could see it, then it probably meant Shikamaru was even more unhappy than he admitted to himself. Being a genius, he had likely pieced that together in less than a minute. And to think she had spent hours chewing over every word, trying to figure out what she had done wrong…
She tucked the board into her backpack, realizing she felt a need to cheer him up, even if it was just with a board game. Maybe because that was all she could do. She didn't know anything about Shikamaru—not his life, not his preferences… She didn't know how to help him the way others had helped her out of her own depression. But what she could do was be there for him, for as long as they were together, and try to distract him.
She saw him come out of the store, holding a fabric bag likely full of new clothes, and wondered why she was doing so much for him. Yes, it upset her to see someone suffer the way she had been left to suffer, but Shikamaru was a stranger. Hell, was she doing all this because she liked him? No, she told herself, she just wanted to help him while she could. That was all. She tried to convince herself of her motives as they walked back to the cabin, in a comforting silence.
Shikamaru changed into new clothes, setting aside his only clean uniform for another day. She blinked when she saw him dressed in fitted black pants and a snug, high-collared sweater. Oh my god… She quickly looked away, scolding herself. At this rate, Shikamaru was going to figure out she was attracted to him… if he hadn't already. She felt her face heat up and knew she was turning as red as a tomato. She cursed silently, suddenly nervous, and began preparing some snacks with her back turned to him.
Thankfully, she calmed down just enough to go pale again as the kettle whistled with boiling water.
"Tea?"
"Yes, thanks."
She felt Shikamaru's sharp eyes on her face as she prepared his cup of tea. She avoided looking at him until necessary, not wanting her hands to tremble embarrassingly. She handed him the cup without meeting his gaze. Just as she was about to pass him the plate of pastries, he had the same idea, and their fingers collided. She accidentally looked up, meeting Shikamaru's alert eyes, which were already watching her.
"Sorry," he said easily, without elaborating, placing the plate between them.
She nodded, saying nothing about it. Better not to add fuel to the fire, she thought. Then she remembered the board she had bought. She saw Shikamaru raise the cup to his lips, now more distracted, so she cleared her throat.
"I bought something to keep you from getting bored," she smiled as he looked at her again.
She walked over to the bed, where she had left her bag, and turned her back to him as she pulled the board out of her backpack. She knew it was silly to try to hide something like that, but she hoped Shikamaru was distracted enough not to question her unusual behaviour.
She handed him the wooden box containing the board and the pieces, noticing Shikamaru blink in mild surprise. As soon as he lifted the lid and saw what it was, his eyes returned to her with something in them she couldn't identify. Surprise? Curiosity? She watched as he picked up a beautifully carved cherrywood piece, rolling it between his fingers with a small smile.
"A shogi board?"
"Is that what it is?"
"You don't know what it is?" Shikamaru asked suddenly, making her blink, observing her face with something she couldn't describe again. Then he cleared his throat. "So, you've never played?"
"No, although, if it's what I think, I've played something similar."
"If you want… I could teach you," Shikamaru offered, looking at her intently with a small smile.
"Sure! I can't wait to beat you!"
Shikamaru couldn't help but laugh, genuinely surprised now, before shaking his head. And so, she found herself listening to a more energetic, enthusiastic Shikamaru as he explained the rules of the game and talked about the times he had used this or that strategy against his father. Harika could only nod, pretending she fully understood, while trying not to smile too widely at how happy he looked.
"You can't make that move!" Shikamaru burst out laughing, sitting across from her on the other side of the board.
"Says who?"
"The actual rules of the game."
Harika snorted a laugh, tossing her piece onto the board. It was clear that shogi was harder than chess—or maybe she was just terrible at it. They played for hours while chatting about all sorts of things.
Shikamaru first told her about his father, who introduced him to shogi, and then about his teacher Asuma, whom he also played with often. He told her about his team, his ninja companions Chouji and Ino, and his academy friends. He spoke of Konoha and even laughed while recounting a couple of childhood missions that now seemed amusing to him.
Harika listened closely, smiling unintentionally when he smiled, or laughing alongside him as she imagined an 11-year-old Shikamaru going through those ninja adventures.
"My dad would love this board…" he finally admitted, moving a piece. "Thanks for the gift."
"You're welcome."
"Why did you buy it?"
Harika looked up at him, pondering what to say until she realized there was nothing embarrassing about telling the truth. She was tired of lies and half-truths.
"The other day, you asked me something… I've been thinking about our conversation and I realized there's little I can do to help you. I don't know you, not really, but maybe I'm starting now. I don't know what you truly feel inside… All I can do with what I have is cheer you up and distract you."
Shikamaru opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Clearly struggling to speak, he frowned. He stared at the board for a while, unfocused, holding a piece in his hand, until he finally spoke.
"I'm bored with my life," he said bluntly, "and yet… not. Since I was born, my path was to become a ninja. I'm the clan heir—what else would I be? The funny thing is, even though I like being a ninja, I also hate that I didn't get to choose it. When we graduated from the academy, Ino spent the whole day nervous and excited to see which team she'd get, but not me. You know why?"
"Because you already knew…"
"Exactly. I feel like my life is predestined. I like what happens in it most of the time, but I haven't chosen any of it. I became a chunin because my team entered the exams because the others in my class entered. I forfeited my match and still got promoted. You know why? Because it was obvious I'd be promoted eventually, so why not sooner—even if I didn't finish the match, right? I feel trapped… and guilty. Does that make any sense? I like my life, but I hate not being the one to choose what happens in it. And at the same time, I feel guilty for being unhappy when I like my life."
"…"
Shikamaru shook his head, taking a deep breath, while she listened silently.
"The other day you asked if there was something keeping me from being happy. I thought about it, too, and I figured out that the problem is me. I'm used to going with the flow, letting others lead me wherever without making big decisions. My dad does it with my mom at home, and I get it. I understand why. He uses all his energy keeping the village safe, so when he comes home, he lets her make all the decisions because he's tired. I've followed his example my whole life, letting others steer everything and that's what's led me here."
"But that's a good thing, isn't it? Now you've realized what's happening, and you can change it. Maybe it took you some time, but now you know what to do."
Shikamaru looked out the window for a few minutes before turning back to her, a calmer smile on his lips than the ones before.
"It's going to be troublesome… but yeah. I'll need to think more deeply about it, but strangely enough, I don't feel like I did two days ago," he said. She saw how tired he looked, despite his realization, and knew what to do.
"You know what you need?"
"What?"
Harika stood up from across the board and walked to his side. Shikamaru watched her curiously until she hugged him. He froze in her arms, clearly stunned, until he finally relaxed. His arms wrapped around her, first awkwardly, then firmly, pulling her close. She let him bury his face in her neck, hiding from the world for a moment. She stroked his hair, holding him tightly in return.
She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but she realized that even though she thought it was what he needed, it made herfeel better too. She might be far from home, but she wasn't alone, and right now, she was grateful for Shikamaru's company.
The only thing that made her reluctantly get up was the pain in her knees. Shikamaru didn't seem uncomfortable, but she wasn't a ninja.
"It's not that I want to stop hugging you, but my knees hurt," she whispered.
Shikamaru chuckled against her neck. He said nothing for a few seconds, though he had clearly heard her. Finally, he sighed reluctantly and raised his head. They looked at each other for a few moments, just inches apart. She resisted swallowing hard as she realized that, for a brief instant, it felt like they might kiss. She wasn't a ninja, but she had seen the way Shikamaru's eyes lingered on her lips as he studied her face. The moment passed. She felt his hand on her cheek just as he kissed the other one.
"Thank you, Harika. That was exactly what I needed."
He helped her up from the floor, and they put the board away.
That night, she went to sleep with her heart racing. He hadn't kissed her, but she'd seen the tenderness in his eyes. That should be enough, she supposed. A small part of her, though, wished he had kissed her…
The following days were a countdown to when Shikamaru would leave her. He seemed to have improved from his depression and showed curiosity about her, constantly asking her questions.
"And you say you're not from here?"
"No."
"Are you from a small country?"
"Uh… no. More like a faraway place. Extremely far."
"Far across the sea?"
"No. I don't know," she finally said, frowning. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, and she could practically see his brain working overtime. "The thing is, I got lost."
"You're trying to find your way back home," he stated with certainty. She nodded. "Any luck?"
"No. I've been searching for weeks, but nothing..."
"You'll find it."
"What makes you think that?"
"If there's a way in, there has to be a way out."
Harika stopped in her tracks. It was something she had thought of herself, but the fact that Shikamaru, without even knowing the whole story, had come to the same conclusion… it made her feel more confident. She smiled at her new friend, silently thanking him for giving her hope.
"You're a genius, Shikamaru." Surprisingly, she saw Shikamaru's cheeks turn slightly pink.
She spent the next few days telling him what she could about her life. She spoke about her friends, her enemies—she told him about Tom… She twisted her words to avoid mentioning magic, though it wasn't necessary when talking about the man who murdered her parents.
"In the end, I killed him. It was almost an accident," she confessed, "but I'm glad he's dead. That man ruined a lot of lives, mine included. I hope he rots in hell."
"But why would he go after a child?"
"Because of a prophecy."
"What?" Shikamaru asked, suddenly stopping mid-carrot slice. "A prophecy?"
"Yes. I don't really believe in them, but he did. He was so terrified that anything or anyone might kill him that he wanted to eliminate me before I became a threat."
"I see… He acted pre-emptively. Funny thing is, from what I gather, his pre-emptive strike led to his death, didn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"If he hadn't killed your parents or tried to hunt you down for years, what reason would you have had to go after him? You'd have just been another teenager. Maybe he would've been killed by a soldier or someone trained for it—but not you. The very thing he tried to prevent ended up happening," Shikamaru chuckled dryly. "Ironic."
Almost a week later, Shikamaru said the words she least wanted to hear.
"I'm practically healed now."
"…"
"You're going back to Konoha today," she stated, knowing it was true. He nodded. "Then let me prepare some food for your trip."
"Harika… why don't you come with me?"
Shikamaru's question hung in the air. Harika hadn't really accepted that he'd leave her, nor had she imagined she might go with him to Konoha. That ninja had kidnapped her because of her powers… What would happen if she walked into the lion's den? Would she be able to come and go freely to continue her research? Would someone discover her powers? What would happen if—when—she made a mistake and a ninja with hawk eyes caught her?
The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to travel to Konoha. She was worried about the fact that physically, she was weaker compared to a ninja. She still didn't have a strategy to defend herself, and until then, she knew it was a very bad idea to accept Shikamaru's request—even though she wanted to. Shikamaru seemed to understand this from her silence, since he sighed, looking sadder than before but completely resigned.
"I knew you weren't going to say yes."
"I'm sorry. I want to, but…"
"You can't."
"Not yet."
"Yet…"
The conversation faded away as Shikamaru slowly gathered his things, as if he didn't want to leave. Harika helped him with the food and water. She handed him the canteen once more, now full, and their fingers brushed just like days ago. Their eyes met, and this time Shikamaru didn't hide the way his gaze travelled across her face until it landed on her lips. She didn't move or say anything, like prey frozen and silent, waiting to be devoured—but he didn't do it. He swallowed visibly and then accepted the canteen. Harika stayed silent, although she felt a sting of disappointment and sadness that surprised her.
"Do me a favour and don't leave the Land of Fire," Shikamaru asked a while later, now fully dressed in his uniform with his backpack strapped to his back.
"I will."
"Promise me?"
"I promise, Shikamaru."
"We'll see each other again," he promised, raising a hand and caressing her cheek. "I swear."
Then, before she could realize what was happening, he hugged her—gently but firmly—as if he didn't want to let go. The hug was brief but intense. She didn't even have time to savor being in his arms before Shikamaru released her and turned away quickly, raising a hand over his head as he walked off. Harika watched him go, eyes full of tears, wondering why she was crying over a man she had only known for seven days.