This is an exert from a fanfic I hope to soon write. It dances around a major spoiler, so if you haven't read volume 328 yet, do not read this.

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It was troublesome really.

Not anything specific, Shikamaru had decided long ago, but life in general.

This was his mantra on the way back from the bounty station. He trailed behind Ino and Chouji and it really wasn't anything new. It was just walking back to Konoha after another mission.

But it wasn't another mission, Shikamaru mused silently, fighting the urge to chew on the filter resting between his lips. Distracting himself, he took a drag from the cigarette and the taste was still as he'd always imagined.

It was still raining. That wasn't so troublesome. It gave him a reason not to cry, which was far more troublesome than getting wet from the rain.

The gates were open when they approached the Hidden Village. For some reason, Shikamaru became increasingly nauseas at this.

Ino, who was now grasping Chouji's arm like it were her only anchor to reality, let out a noise that sounded as if it were caught between a realivedlaugh and a sob. Chouji glanced back, giving Shikamaru a quick nod. The brunette only dropped his cigarette, stepping on it before continuing on without a real destination in mind. His teammates didn't attempt a second good bye and took off towards the Yamanaka residence.

He had probably wandered around for close to an hour before finally reaching the Nara compound, so lost in trying not to think was he.

He slid in quietly, hoping desperately that his mother wasn't around. By now the news had to have gotten out and sympathy was far too troublesome, especially from such a woman as Yoshino Nara.

A lack of shoes near the door was registered in his brain immediately. No scents in the air associated with cooking either. A bowl of fruit sat on the table, looking a few days past ripe. Shikamaru sighed in relief when he realized this meant his parents were still out on their missions.

He headed for his room, stripping off his wet clothes on the way, fully intent on sleeping off the state of shock he figured he was in twenty minutes ago.

He had stripped down to his boxers when he opened his door and realized he wasn't alone.

Temari sat on his bed, arms and legs crossed, looking him up and down with out the usual raised eyebrow. There was no smirk, no playful tilt of the head. He refused to acknowledge the expression she did wear.

"Hey," he said and his voice broke.

He couldn't hold her gaze any longer so, instead, he walked to his dresser and fished around the top drawer. Normally he would just wear his boxers to bed, too tired by the time he stripped down to find any pajamas, but he needed to stall.

He wasn't sure for how long he looked, thinking logically it was most likely ten minutes, but it wasn't nearly long enough.

"Shikamaru."

A hand was placed on his shoulder and something in him swelled.

"I can't," he choked, and he refused to turn to her. "It's too damn troublesome. I can't."

She was able to pry him off the dresser, which was when Shikamaru realized he couldn't breathe.

Gasping, even though he knew, he knew, it wasn't helping, was probably just going to send him into panic as he continued to hyperventilate.

Temari had somehow guided him to his bed. He now lay curled up on it, his head in her lap. She smoothed his hair and rubbed his back all the while rocking them back and forth.

She didn't tell him that it would be okay, or that things would get better. He wished that she would say it, some where deep down, wished that she could say it and that it would be true. What she did say was better than any of the usual nonsense.

"I'm here," Temari murmured, pulling out his rubber band and combing through his hair. "This is real, this is now. I'm here."

She continued to hold him as his sobs took him past exhaustion and into his usually beloved sleep.