Don't ask. I just started writing this out while waiting to punch in for work. Waiting to work. Isn't that sad? Also, hello, hi! I am not dead. I'm very much still breathing. I still write, but I seem to have a knack for simply handwriting everything anymore.

I own nothing. The characters are not mine and I make no profit off this. The story, however, is mine.

When he'd opened his eyes, it was still dark out. First light was still hours away. He let out a quiet sigh, wondering what exactly had woken him up from a peaceful sleep. He thought for a moment, closing his eyes – knowing sleep was too far out of his reach – and came to the conclusion that he should see his father. He got out of bed, contemplated on changing, and then merely left his room to retrieve his shoes. Who was going to be out at this hour, anyway? Who gave a damn about the ANBU? Certainly not him at this hour. He just wanted to see his father. He slipped out quietly to avoid waking his mother.

The walk was a lonely one. It was too quiet for him. The bustle of the village wasn't around to calm his brain. He looked up at the sky and saw a countless amount of stars. Not a single cloud loomed in the sky to cover them. Idly, he thought about the meaning of that, and then decided there was none.

He reached his destination – a cemetery. Understandably, there were no children around to clean the graves, or to give them flower bands. He greeted one particular grave for a moment, then moved on to the original reason for his visit. He sat in front of the grave, saying nothing for a long moment. Finally, he spoke.

"Hi, dad. I couldn't sleep for some reason. I didn't want to wake up mom, so… I thought I'd visit you. I didn't think you'd mind too much."

He looked down at his hands, not realizing he'd shaped them together to make a box. Something must've been eating him up. He parted his hands and set them on his thighs.

"Who am I going to play Shogi with, dad? I only had you and Asuma-Sensei. And you're both gone. Doesn't leave many options for me."

He scoffed at himself. "I'm griping and being selfish, I know. It's just that there aren't many options of Shogi players. Everyone's either too busy, or they don't have any interest. Sometimes, I wish I could bring you back. Other times, I just wish I could play Shogi with you for a while before the sun comes up."

He stopped and looked at his father's grave. It was silent, just as he figured it would be. He let out a quiet sigh. Getting over his teacher's death had taken some coaxing. But… who would help him now? The one who'd managed to help him cope before was dead. He pursed his lips, feeling oddly disappointed. What had he been expecting rom this visit? He wasn't entirely sure.

He looked down at his hands, still clutching his thighs. He looked at his father's grave, silently pleading for some sort of reply. He waited, though his patience was fleeting. "Dad?"

No reply.

Finally, he relented and began to stand up. He stopped midway when he heard a familiar voice.

"Troublesome kid," the voice said with a chuckle.

His eyes were wide as he slowly looked up. The figure before him was a glowing blue figure of a man that was all too familiar. He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he tried desperately to will them away. "Dad?"

The man before him gave a reassuring smile and winked his eye. "I see things have calmed down since I left. Question is… what're are you doing out here with a bunch of bones instead of sleeping?"

Shikamaru looked away. "I… couldn't sleep. I dunno know why."

"Came looking for closure, I bet," the man suggested calmly, making his son look back at him. "During a war, there isn't much time to grieve for your losses. Things move so quickly that you have to swallow your pain and press on. And when it ends, you're left with all these unresolved pains because they were cast aside and you don't want to deal with them."

The young man felt a heavy load fall onto his shoulders. "Mom's been miserable with you gone. I know she tries to hide it by working around the house, but when she stops… it's like the world stops. And she's cried so much. I know she does because in the morning, her voice is so raspy and her eyes are puffy. I hate it. I try to help her as best as I can, but she always tells me no." He clenched his fists. "Maybe she's the one who should be seeing you."

"I will," his father said calmly. "I intend to. But not tonight. She'll come around and she'll be able to go without crying and without feeling pain. In some way, she knows I'll be there. But you like to stuff things away. You've always been that way. So," he said, folding his arms, "tell me how much you miss your old man." He smirked upon saying this.

His son scoffed, but the tears were threatening to fall. "This is so troublesome. I don't want to cry in front of you."

"I won't be in front of you," his father said calmly, his face somber. "I'll be beside you. This is something you need to do, or you it'll fester. Remember what I said before? Let it out."

The young man stared at his father with wide eyes, thankful that he was already sitting down – he would've fallen over had he'd been standing. He wrenched his eyes from his father and looked at his hands. They were clutching his thighs, almost causing pain. He surprised himself when he saw drops falling onto his hands. He almost thought it was raining, but realized the drops were coming from his eyes. He started sobbing, failing to notice his father move to kneel beside him. Neither did he notice the hand that clutched his shoulder, trying to convey love and a father's care.

His father sat beside him, holding his hand in place on his son's shoulder as the boy wept. He wasn't going to lie – hearing him in such a broken state was painful, but necessary. Eventually, the pain will subside, he told himself. He won't always be in pain.

After several long minutes, Shikamaru's tears had stopped falling, and his shoulders were starting to still. He was calming down and letting out smoother exhales of breath. With a calmer state of mind, he was able to register the hand on his shoulder. Silently, he brought his hand up to sit on top of his father's, clutching slightly before pulling away.

The father gave his son's should a squeeze before removing it. He felt a bit better seeing his son calmed down, and he imagined the boy had to be tired now. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

His son shrugged. "A little bit empty, but I don't feel so heavy anymore." He shook his head. "Crying is troublesome. Not to mention, it's draining. I'd rather train than cry."

The other man offered a small smile. "That's because training helps your physical strength. Analyzing everything around. Crying is your emotions spilling over. They're more intense than anything you could fire because they're raw. They'll always be that way. Sometimes, the smartest thing you can do is let them take over."

The younger Nara thought about his father's words for a moment. He could feel the tears on his face drying now, and he knew his throat was going to be sore after all the damage he'd put it through. "Emotions are a drag."

His father smirked. "Yes, well... without emotions, I'd have never fallen in love with your mother. And if you hadn't of let your emotions stand out to help you defend Chouji, you wouldn't have become friends until you became Genin. They're important, so don't leave them behind."

Shikamaru was silent. Yep. I'm gonna miss this man. He looked down at his hands. "Think they'd bring you back to life? Or at least let you come out to play Shogi?"

"No," his father replied quietly. "I don't regret my death – only that I had to leave you and your mother behind. Don't feel guilt. Don't be saddened by it. I promise I'll always be there to watch over you, but I can't come and go. Even I have rules to abide by. I knew you needed help, so they granted me a pass."

The other was saddened by this fact, but accepted it. "How will you see mom, though?"

His father smiled. "Don't worry a bout that. I'll reach her. Now," he said quickly, arms crossing, "you should go home and go to sleep. I think you've done a fairly good job at destroying your sleeping pattern."

Shikamaru chuckled. "Yeah, okay." He stood up slowly, though didn't move any more. He didn't want to leave. Didn't want to say goodbye.

Shikaku Nara sensed the hesitation in his son's body. "It's not goodbye," he said reassuringly. "I promise we'll see each other again. Just don't be stupid and get yourself killed." He smirked to his son, who just smirked back. "Well, it looks like it's time. I'll see you in the future, son."

The younger stood back and watched his father shift into a brilliant blue light before making his way back up to the sky. It quickly flashed as a star before fading. He smiled and whispered, "I'll see you."