the order in which things are broken

Summary: It is a perfect summer day, the salad is blooming, Sakura and Naruto are getting married and Shikamaru is losing his patience. Yes, you heard correctly: the salad. OneShot- Shikamaru, Ino. Humor, AU.

Warning: OneShot, humor, AU. Rated T for adult topics and mentionings of sex.

Set: Story-unrelated.

Disclaimer: Standards apply. Title and quotation from the poem "the order in which things are broken", by Desirée Alvarez.

The third day we met you gave me all your secrets

until I held an ocean in a cradle. Now all I ask for is more.

(Desirée Alvarez)

There was no cheese left.

Shikamaru glared at the refrigerator as if staring at the inanimate object would make some diary product appear from thin air. Quite predictably, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the constant humming of the old fridge stuttered, the light flickered and came back to life again and Shikamaru closed the door with an annoyed sigh. The electricity gave a choked cough and went on. On the table, his usual, steaming cup of tea was sitting next to a plate with two slices of bread and a piece of butter. If he remembered correctly, the last package from home had contained three troublesome jars of marmalade…

The doorbell rang.

It was a miracle something in this old apartment was working, after all, but the sound was loud and ear-drum-penetrating. Pressing the door-opener without even looking at it, his face contorted from the volume of the sound, Shikamaru shuffled head-first into the small storage room, determined to give up and eat the bread with nothing but butter shouldn't he find anything within twenty seconds. Forty seconds later, a jar of marmalade stood on the table, the jar-opener was nowhere to be found and Ino was standing in the kitchen as if she belonged there.

"What are you doing?"

Her sight was not unfamiliar. He had stopped counting how often she'd stood there a long, long time ago.

"Good morning to you, too," Shikamaru drawled over his shoulder, using a knife to let some air enter under the lid and then screwing it open easily. "Having breakfast, obviously."

"The ceremony is at eleven thirty," Ino returned with a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her voice. "I told you to be ready at ten."

"It's five to ten." Shikamaru buttered his bread and spread the marmelade over it. "You want one?"

"No, thanks."

Shikamaru reached into the cupboard at his left and handed her a cup, wordlessly.

Her smile was familiar, too.

Dropping her small handbag onto a chair, Ino took the offered cup and rummaged through another cabinet to find the tea. She helped herself to hot water and then turned to the fridge for some milk.

"Oh." The green jungle greeting her from behind the now-open door did look suspicious, he had to agree. Ino's face scrunched up. "What's that?"

"Salad," Shikamaru said, finishing off his first slice of bread. "Kiba's, obviously."

"It's blooming."

"Happens."

Ino snorted in amusement. "Why does he even buy vegetables? For you guys, green comestibles are for cattle, not for humans, right?"

"His girlfriend likes it."

"Give it to Chouji, he can stomach anything."

He grunted and she laughed, quietly. Shikamaru liked this Ino, the calmer, more quiet one. The one that wouldn't pull his hair, wouldn't scream at him like a banshee. In all fairness – the last time she'd done that, they'd been in High School. Sometimes he thought getting older wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be as a child.

They drank their tea in companionable silence.

"Nice dress."

"Thanks." Ino sounded vaguely surprised. She was looking nice, though. She was wearing a midnight-blue, knee-long silk dress and a shawl draped over her shoulders. "I'd say the dress was way too expensive, but I can't compare a police psychiatrist's income to the one of a lowly student."

Her hair was fastened in a high ponytail that left her white nape bare. Shikamaru forced himself to look somewhere else.

"The entire hospital will be at the party today, won't it?"

Ino smirked. "And the entire precinct, no doubt."

He felt her eyes take him in and looked down himself. He was already wearing the dark trousers with the sharp crease, but he hadn't yet put on his dress shirt. The white T-shirt he was wearing contrasted sharply with the black-black of the suit's trousers. Looking up again, he caught Ino's rare real smile. She was leaning against the counter, at home there even in a formal dress and high-heels. Despite the unusual clothes she was Ino all the way, from the small crinkles around her eyes when she smiled to the soft tapping of her shoes onto the kitchen floor. Suddenly, it hit him: how much he liked the sight of her in his kitchen.

"Come on, get ready. We don't have all day."

He went to do her bidding, grumbling a bit. Appearances had to be kept.

The sky was as clear as a mountain lake. No cloud was in sight.

It was a beautiful summer day, and Haruno Sakura married Uzumaki Naruto after years of passionate – and, in Shikamaru's opinion, often quite turbulent – courtship. The ceremony at the registrar's office was short and yet longer than it absolutely had to be, Shikamaru thought, and during the reception following immediately afterwards he was, due to his troublesome position as witness to the marriage, repeatedly hit in the head. First with rose petals (those did not hurt anything but his dignity), then with rice and finally, a misplaced shoe almost smacked him right in the face. Sighing, he caught the foot wear and dropped it on Naruto's head. The idiot was too occupied mooning over Sakura to even notice, though Shikamaru did catch a glare from Ino.

The festivities then shifted from the plaza in front of the registrar's office to a small restaurant in Leaf's outskirts.

The place was packed with people: Shikamaru could barely see the others among the huge gaggle of Sakura's family and Naruto's foster family, both of their friends and colleagues from Sakura's hospital and Naruto's precinct. He found Chouji, standing at a table and munching away at a bowl full of pretzels, he seemed content watching from over there. Kiba and his girlfriend were animatedly talking to some school friends of Sakura's and Sai was lurking around the buffet like the stalker he sometimes seemed to be. Neji looked like he would have preferred to have his nails torn out – one after the other, slowly and without anesthetics – instead of being here, but Hinata looked so radiant Shikamaru couldn't imagine Mister Ice Block would come to regret his rare streak of social behavior all too quickly. Tenten and Lee were in another corner, when he caught sight of them it seemed like they were setting up a laptop and a projector. Oh please, no embarrassing photographs! Shikamaru cringed at the thought. Judging from Tenten's evil smile, they were having something especially embarrassing in mind. Ino hurried over to talk to them, her smile positively devious, as well.

The bride and the groom were nowhere in sight.

"Ino's always busy," someone said at Shikamaru's elbow and he turned to look at Asuma. Their old tutor, for once, wasn't smoking, but his grin was the same. Cold cigarette smoke, the scent of baby milk and the memory of twelve kids, each one difficult and brilliant in its own right, clung to him. One down, eleven to go. "She outdid herself with the preparations, this time."

"True."

"She has a hand for it," Asuma agreed. "Once Ino does something, she does it right. She even called me to ask for – how did she call it? Something old, something new, this kind of stuff." He shook his head, as if in awe for his former students. "Those decorations are beautiful. Don't tell me she made them herself."

"Florist's daughter. She's good with that kind of stuff. Of course, she's also a good psychiatrist."

Asuma chuckled, then sobered. "I never thought the day would come that you would compliment her. The two of you used to disagree on everything. You've known each other since birth – one would have thought you'd learned to live with each other. Yet when I got to know you – how old were you? Seven? – you still were at each other's throats." He sounded nostalgic.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "We're not kids anymore, Asuma."

"No." The tall man shook his head, his gaze raking over his former student one last time. "No, I can see that very well." Then, he straightened. "Anyway, I have to excuse myself. Kurenai decreed that I would have to take care of Sara every second hour."

Shikamaru mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like henpecked, and Asuma cuffed his head fondly and with more force than necessary. "Watch it."

"That hurt!" Shikamaru complained.

"Grow up, Shika."

"Yeah, yeah."

They parted ways again and, since they'd just been talking about them, Shikamaru took a closer look at the flower decoration. Ino had combined white roses with baby's breath and lilies of the valley; the result was a stunningly simple but elegant wreath bound with dark-red ribbons and silver wire. Against the backdrop of the white table cloth, the red looked almost like spilled blood: strangely alive, and strangely fitting. Ino, too, had prepared the bridal bouquet which Sakura still was holding like it was the most precious thing on earth. No, Shikamaru corrected himself, she was holding on to Naruto's hand as if it was the most precious thing on earth, and so said her smile. How strange that those two were married now: and, at the same time, not strange at all. Not stranger than his and Ino's relationship.

Talking about Ino…

Shikamaru took a sip of champagne from his glass and scanned the room for the blonde woman. He spotted her almost immediately, across the room, the blue of her dress in perfect harmony with her silver-and-gold hair. She moved through the crowd and it parted for her, miraculously, until she had almost reached –

"Ino, dear," Sakura's mother said as she stepped into Ino's path. "It was so good of you to offer your help with the preparations! How can we ever thank you? I don't know what we'd have done without your help!"

Ino smiled and nodded, and Shikamaru watched the sun paint reflections into her hair.

"The train will depart at nine thirty," she reminded the bride's mother. "Sakura and Naruto will have to leave at eight sharp to catch it."

"Oh, but they're not even traveling to overseas!" Sakura's mother lamented. "The Islands are so pretty at this time of the year…"

Two men drifted into Shikamaru's line of sight, laughing loudly, obscuring his view and cutting him off from the conversation. He knew their faces from the precinct but didn't care to roam his brain for their names. Instead, he tuned them out.

"Shikamaru!"

A voice appeared from behind him and Shikamaru turned, slowly, to face his friend and flat-mate. Kiba was a good guy, as long as somebody watched out for the contents in his part of the fridge, and his huge tracking dog, Akamaru, was surprisingly well-behaved.

Shikamaru greeted his childhood friend and now colleague with a clipped nod.

"What a party, huh?"

Behind them, half a dozen detectives were chatting up some female physicians, their voices increased both to be understood over the music in the background and due to the amount of alcohol all of them probably had drank already. The women, in return, didn't look too unpleased by the company.

"So, who do you think will be the next to sail into the harbor?" Kiba continued. "Neji and Hinata? After they managed to get their family back on track there shouldn't be many objections left, right?"

"Never underestimate the power of an old clan," Shikamaru murmured.

"You would know, wouldn't you? The Nara family is as old as Leaf is, even older."

"Huh?"

Kiba frowned. "What?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh." The frown on Kiba's face deepened. "I just thought that your family is old and distinguished, as well, and that maybe Ino and you…"

When he saw Shikamaru's face, his words died away. "You've been together for such a long time. And Ino's an only child, so I thought…"

"We're not together," Shikamaru said, an instinctive answer so ingrained into him that he only realized what he'd said seconds later. The look on Kiba's face told him his friend and colleague didn't believe him.

"Come on, Shikamaru, you have to face reality one day. You've never had a girlfriend, and Ino stays over with you on a regular basis. You've known her since you were children. You go out together. You're clearly in a relationship."

"Yes, we are," Shikamaru said, enunciating carefully. "We're friends. That's a relationship."

"Friends with benefits?" Kiba snorted. "Denial much?"

Shikamaru knocked back his drink. "I'm not going to have this discussion with you now. Actually-" He glared at Kiba. "I have no intention of having this discussion with you. Ever."

Kiba looked at him almost pityingly. Akamaru whined, as if in agreement with his human.

Shikamaru left them standing there and went to pick up another drink. Suddenly, he felt like he needed something stronger.

When he came back Kiba had found some other people to annoy, so Shikamaru returned to his previous hiding spot again. It strategically well-placed: obscured from view by the long, silken leaves of a ficus, he was nevertheless able to watch almost every corner of the room.

From the moment Naruto'd come running; glowing; announcing that Sakura had finally agreed to marry him, and had asked whether he'd be his best man, Shikamaru had been worried he'd have to give a speech. But then Naruto had continued on with whether it would be okay if Kakashi would address the guests. Insanely glad, Shikamaru had agreed, partly because he really didn't want to bother standing up to the entire audience to talk about Naruto and Sakura's troublesome love life (which he'd experienced vividly when Naruto and he still had been sharing a room in the police training barracks, thank you very much), partly because a sudden streak of morbid curiosity had made him want to hear what Hatake Kakashi would have to say on the subject of his former student's marriage.

The crystal-clear sound of a glass being rung resounded through the room, and the guests fell silent.

Kakashi was wearing a grey suit, one that made him look ridiculously tall. As if he suddenly had changed from a person that used to scare kids into falling into the lake and was notoriously late to a person that had to be taken serious. Snorting, Shikamaru leaned against the wall a bit more comfortably to have a good look at the following events.

"Esteemed guests, dear family and friends," Kakashi started. "Dear bride, dear groom." He stopped, all attention on him, and blinked at Naruto and Sakura. "What are the two of you doing here?"

A small laugh ran through the audience. Shikamaru wasn't so sure Kakashi was joking. At least, he wasn't only joking.

"Ah," Kakashi continued, as if he'd just remembered. "Dear guests. On a July day some twenty years ago I was assigned a trio of elementary school kids for tutoring and supervision during summer camp. I arrived the first day – after having found another beautiful, scenic route to the camp – and found three brats who were just trying to make huge fools out of themselves…"

A flash of something ran over both Sakura's and Naruto's face. With sympathy, Shikamaru watched Naruto tug Sakura's arm a bit tighter around his waist, and his own arm encircled her shoulders protectively. Sasuke was dead almost fifteen years now. Sometimes Shikamaru wondered whether his loss had been the trigger that had prompted Naruto, him and Kiba into becoming detectives, and Sakura and Ino to study medicine.

"Those snot-nosed, foul-mouthed children screamed at me that I was two hours late, whether I'd lost my sense of responsibility as an adult, and what they would have to do in order to change their instructor. They then proceeded to glare at each other. The girl refused to sit next to the one boy, and the other boy refused to sit next to the girl, and the third one preferred not sitting to sitting and learning at all. We had a great time together."

A flash of a smile, devious, and Naruto and Sakura and everyone who knew Kakashi or had heard of him silently moaned in sympathy. Kakashi was notorious for his methods of education.

"Around the end of first year's summer camp," he continued, "They at least would talk to each other more or less normally, but they didn't say good bye to each other when they were picked up by their parents. However, they returned the next year, and the year after. And while I watched them growing up together, they started growing into each other, as well. They changed, both in height and in mind, though the girl still tended to react too hastily and the one boy was too detached and the other far too enthusiastic. But they balanced each other. They were good together."

Kakashi stopped, the audience holding its breath.

"I'm not going to continue on here. This is a day for happy memories, not for sad ones. We'll all miss Sasuke but if he were here today; he'd tell us to look towards the future. So I'm not going to dwell on the past for much longer. I could tell you a lot of embarrassing stories, instead. Like when Sakura, on one of the field trips, accidentally knocked Naruto unconscious. Or when Naruto, wanting to show Sakura how he could jump from a cliff into a lake, knocked himself unconscious. Or I could tell you what was the real reason why Naruto's hair was green as grass for two whole months. Or why Sakura, to this day, refuses to eat carrots."

The audience crowed. Naruto was grinning so widely it had to hurt. Sakura's eyes were flaming, directed towards her former tutor, and Kakashi grinned in her direction and waved cheerily.

"But I won't do that. Instead, I'd like to propose a toast." He lifted his glass, and the audience did so with him.

"To the groom and the bride, Ladies and Gentlemen," Kakashi said. "To two people who have a past and a present. May their future be a story, as well, one to laugh and one to cry over in joy, one full of old jokes and new tales, of old friends and new acquaintances, and one of new experiences made in the best way possible: together."

He smiled down at Sakura and Naruto, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Ladies and Gentlemen: to past tales and future stories!"

Shikamaru lifted his glass, quietly, and drained the content.

Who would have known stupid Kakashi would be able to give a speech like that.

The next conversation he overheard was between Ino, again, and Tenten and Lee.

"Oh springtime of youth!" Lee's trademark bowl-shaped haircut was perfect, not one hair out of place. His front teeth flashed as if lighting up his joy, not that that would have been necessary. Anyone within twenty feet could see how Lee felt about the wedding. "Aren't they perfect together? I always knew Naruto's endless energy and Sakura's heavenly beauty and intelligence were perfectly matched! In fact, I recall saying that…"

Shikamaru never got to know what Lee had said, because Tenten rolled her eyes and clamped his mouth shut with one hand. "I got it the first time, Lee."

Which, by no means, sufficed to silence Lee completely. He just changed track. It was amazing, really, how much energy a person could put into being optimistic and out-going.

"And the decorations! Ino, you are an angel, only a celestial touch could have resulted in these beautiful arrangements!"

"Thanks," Ino said, amused. "I'm glad you like them."

She and Tenten shared a wink over Lee's head while Leaf's Beautiful Green Beast bent down to examine the small wreaths more closely.

"Do you think you could show me how to make those?" He asked, his eyes shining. "I could teach the kids. It would be a splendid gift for Mother's Day!"

Tenten rolled her eyes. "It sounds so wrong when a grown man asks how to make flower chains."

Lee didn't hear her, focused on Ino completely who was smiling her consent. Shikamaru had the sneaking suspicion that Lee never heard people that were mocking him, be it intentional mockery or just friendly teasing. Tenten was right – it was strange, thinking of Lee as a kindergarten teacher, or, at least, it had been in the beginning. But anyone who'd ever seen the tall man letting himself be chased and finally toppled over by a crowd of laughing, yelling four-year-olds would be unable to deny that he had a hand for kids, utterly and completely. The way he tackled every day with endless enthusiasm and happiness and his incredible gentleness when it came to the sorrows and pains of little ones were nothing less but heartwarming.

Even though, to be honest, it was kind of weird. Lee was kind of weird. But he also was one of the most loyal and hard-working people Shikamaru knew.

"Are they really going to sneak out before the party ends?" Tenten asked.

Ino nodded. "They don't want a large fuss over their departure. They'll be gone for a week only, either way, then they have to get back to move out of Naruto's old flat and into their new apartment."

"And here I was, hoping I'd get to throw shoes once again," Tenten said, laughing. "You didn't even allow us embarrassing games, Ino! Where's the fun?"

"Complain to Sakura." Ino looked pensive. Shikamaru could tell that she did approve of her friend's choice but didn't want to say it. "She said she didn't want to have herself, Naruto or anyone made a laughingstock of. The photos were the only thing she would allow." Her smile turned evil, and the corners of Shikamaru's lips twitched. "You did a great job with the presentation, by the way."

"Oh, thank you," Tenten accepted graciously. "It was a lot of fun. I never thought there would be so many pictures, actually. And so many from summer camp days, too!"

"Kurenai always had her camera with her, remember? She must have made hundreds of pictures. She has boxes full of negatives."

"Splendid," Tenten crowed. "So, whose wedding is next? I found some pictures Neji would hate for us to see…"

Ino laughed. "Kiba and Risa?"

"Oh, but Risa's from Suna. We don't have many pictures of her, do we?"

"You'll just have to take all the more whenever she's here."

Tenten laughed. "Yeah, something like that." Without gazing over, she took the glass Lee had just plucked from a tray out of his hand. "That's champagne with orange juice, Lee, not pure juice. Careful there."

Tenten was one of the sharpest personalities Shikamaru'd ever met. The first time he'd encountered her, he'd mistaken her for a boy: granted, he'd only seen her feet in worn-out sneakers dangling from a tree, connected to thin, long legs with scraped knees. What other people would mistakenly have taken for a tomboy, however, was nothing like the typical one: without being overly girly, like Ino and Sakura at twelve, or incredibly shy, like Hinata, Tenten had managed to grow into a undeniably feminine woman without ever behaving like a stereotypical one. Even these days – working as a landscape architect, she could be surrounded by trees and plants, wearing a worn and faded jeans, her hands smeared with earth and dust and without any make-up – Tenten still was more a woman than other women ever would be. She'd had to be, he supposed, since he had no idea how anyone would survive every summer with team mates like Neji and Lee.

"Still can't hold your liquor, Lee?"

"You are right, Ino, I am a disgrace! I am not worthy to be set into the line of Leaf's ancestors! I swear that I will increase my alcohol tolerance until the next marriage, and if I don't, I will walk around the entire village on my hands! No – I will do the way twice, and on one hand, only! I-"

"Don't worry, Lee," Tenten interrupted him with the ease of years of practice. "You're not the only one. Speaking of it – where is your boyfriend, Ino?"

The question stirred Shikamaru up. Briefly, Ino's eyes wandered across the room, searching, but she didn't see him.

"You mean Shikamaru? He's somewhere, I haven't seen him since Kakashi's speech. But you know he's not my boyfriend."

Tenten sighed. "I don't know how you do it."

Ino shrugged and took the glass with orange juice and champagne up from where Tenten had placed it on a table.

"We're just friends."

Her tall friend snorted. "And everyone knows what that means."

"So what?"

Deliberately, Shikamaru turned away and focused on a different spot of the room. But he couldn't tune her out completely: Ino's words echoed in his mind, repeatedly, and left him wondering what exactly had caused the strange sensation in the pit of his stomach.

The dinner banquet was delicious and accompanied by another speech, this time by the bride's father. It prompted much laughter and a few cat-calls in between. The menu was lavish and when they finally reached the dessert Shikamaru wondered how he would be able to move in order to go back home. He wasn't the only one, obviously, here and there people were gesticulating decidedly slower than before dinner, and the atmosphere took on a note of sated contentment. Not for Naruto and Sakura, though. They probably hadn't eaten that much, given their distraction with each other, so when soft music suddenly floated through the room and the corner in which the dance floor was located lit up, Naruto leaned down and whispered something in Sakura's ear. Sakura blushed and stood to follow him, her hand small and delicate in his.

A waltz came up. A disembodied voice announced: Ladies and Gentlemen, Uzumaki Sakura and Naruto!

They danced.

Shikamaru was no great romantic, but even he could see how happy they were. They almost seemed to float. After the newly betrothed, other couples slowly drifted towards the dance floor. Shikamaru leaned back in his chair and watched the room. On the other side of the large table, Ino and Hinata were laughing about some thing or other. The petite head of the Hyuuga Clan, despite her young age, was wearing a colorful silk kimono and didn't look the least bit outdated. Neji next to her was watching over her with eagle eyes. The light threw shadows onto Ino's face. She looked older, sometimes, and alien. Then, she was Ino again: the girl he'd grown up with. She caught his glance over the table and waved, smiling, before returning to her conversation again.

"You should ask her to dance," Chouji said, now on his third helping of Cassis Parfait and Tiramisu.

"Hm?" Shikamaru wasn't really listening. Or, he was, but he'd realized long ago that sometimes it was so much easier to pretend to not have been listening.

"You should ask Ino to dance," Chouji clarified, around another spoon of dessert. "She loves it."

"Yeah, and we all know how much I like to dance," Shikamaru said, sarcastically.

On Chouji's other side, Shino listened to their conversation, watching silently.

"Come on," Chouji urged him on, good-naturedly. "Opportunities like this one are rare."

"I'm not dancing," Shikamaru insisted, not looking at Ino. Or at her shoulders, sharp porcelain edges under the billowy sleeves of her dress.

Not my boyfriend.

Where was Ino, by the way? He'd just taken a sip of his drink and –

"Shikamaru, let's dance."

Suddenly, she was behind him. In a knee-jerk reaction, he set down the glass harder than necessary. "What?"

"Don't break that." Ino looked at him, both amused and exasperated. "This is a wedding. Guests are allowed to dance, as well." She pointed at the stage where Naruto and Sakura were still dancing, whirling around and around. The music had changed, now was happy. Vivid. Naruto was grinning so widely it had to be painful, and Sakura – Sakura was laughing. Without restraint, her eyes wide open, and when Naruto reeled her in again and kissed her she kissed him back. The guests, especially the younger ones, hooted and clapped.

"Come on," Ino said, taking his hand and dragging him over as the next song began. "Just once."

And Shikamaru found himself on the dance floor, Ino's right hand warm in his and her left hand at his right shoulder.

Sighing, he recalled the steps, placed his hand on her hip and led her into the dance.

"Of course you still know the steps," Ino said, her eyes bright and her smile very real.

"As if I could forget the torture that was dancing school."

"Well, your partner wasn't particularly good-looking, I give you that. But it was fun, back in the days."

"Your partner, if I remember correctly, was Sai."

Ino laughed. The sound rang out like a clear bell and something within Shikamaru shuddered.

"Oh, yes. I think he didn't move a facial muscle even once during six weeks."

"You backhanded him in the face during prom and stormed from the room."

"It was the end of summer, I was sixteen and all of us were insane," Ino said, airily.

"You never told me what he did."

For a second he had the feeling that Ino froze; but their dance continued on without pause. He leaned back to look at her: she was a bit smaller than him. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Hmm?" He prompted.

"Can't you imagine?" She asked, composed again, and sent a smile towards him. This time, though, it was fake.

"You broke up with him the next day."

"Yes." She lingered on the word, as if it alone had revealed too much. "He's not quite … well, social, I guess, but he's sharp. Sai, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"He said I wasn't in love with him, so we might as well break up." Ino shrugged.

"Aha." Shikamaru frowned. "You weren't in love with him?"

"I was sixteen," Ino said, throwing back her hair. "I was in love with the idea of being in love, I guess."

Something was missing. "And?"

"Nothing, and. I hurt him, isn't that enough?"

"He doesn't seem to hold it against you."

"It's Sai. If he held anything against anyone of us, we wouldn't know."

"True."

She seemed… Subdued. Shikamaru hadn't wanted to unbox all those memories, and here he could see why. Ino had two kinds of smiles: the honest one, the one she showed only children and the people she trusted most. And the beautiful one, the one that hid more than it revealed, the one she wore whenever she tried to mask something else. This was the second smile and Shikamaru loathed it when she wore it in his presence.

The music changed, the beat quickening, and Shikamaru gripped her hand tighter and whirled her around. Laughing, Ino followed his lead and they stopped talking. He knew she loved dancing but seldom had the opportunity. Chouji was right: he could give it to her, at least.

But she kept up her promise: one dance, and she was gone again.

„What's going on?"

Kiba, who had ambled over to their table and had been amusing himself with a jojo and Akamaru, had suddenly lifted his head. His suspicious gaze flirted through the room. Shikamaru followed his glance: people dancing, people chatting, people laughing, and Sakura and her mother, slowly making their way to the middle of the room.

"Animal instincts," Shino commented without inflection.

Kiba threw him a hurt glance. "Please."

"Is that what I think it is?" Chouji asked, grinning.

With an almost audible sound, the room separated into male and female groups, the male group retreating as quickly as possible.

Shikamaru felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. "Look at that."

Voices rose, teasing remarks, shouts of exuberance. Sakura stood in the middle of the room, patiently, her smile wide. Her back was to the crowd of women. To their credit, not all of them were trying to push to the first row. Some looked uncomfortable, having been caught in the middle of a battle they had no interest in partaking in. They had no choice, however. The lights dimmed, the music rose, and, after counting to three, Sakura lifted the bridal bouquet and tossed it over her shoulder.

It flew.

Shikamaru calculated its trajectory in his head and followed the imaginary line. White-blond hair, a midnight blue dress – Ino. Her gaze was watching the flowers, as well, and something flashed over her face: too fast to read, too quickly gone for him to categorize. Something in the pit of his stomach dropped. Suddenly dizzy, he watched the flowers arch through the air, reaching their reversal point, and then drop – drop – drop –

And Ino stepped away fluidly; gracefully, even; so quickly it seemed like she'd never been there in the first place. With her gone, the bridal bouquet flew straight and true and dropped solidly into the hands of Naruto's foster mother.

The room fell death silent.

Sakura whirled around to see who had caught it and froze, seeing her boss with her bridal bouquet in her hands. All eyes went to her and back to the experienced heart surgeon and chief of staff, and then continued on to Jiraiya. The grey-haired, sturdy man blinked, and then smirked.

"Now that looks like a sign from Heaven to me. Couldn't have written it into a novel better myself. Never too old to tie the knot, Princess, eh?"

"Fuck off," was her eloquent reply, and Shikamaru saw Sakura hold back a verbal lashing with the practice of many years. "You may be old," Tsunade said, carefully lifting the bouquet and regarding it, "But don't speak for me, please."

Her comment and Jiraiya's mock-devastated face loosened the atmosphere, and the crowd broke into laughter and dispersed as the music was turned up again.

"Shikamaru," a sweet voice said next to his ear, and Shikamaru turned to find Hinata standing next to him. He gestured to an empty chair, but she shook her head.

"I just wanted to greet you," she said, a small smile lighting up her features.

Hinata was pretty, but in a different way than Ino. Her dark, dark hair fell over her shoulders, silky and smooth. It contrasted with her silvery eyes, a certain genetic defect the most pure-blooded Hyuuga still carried these days. Her kimono didn't show off her curves like other womens' dresses did, but the way all the more was left to one's imagination made it even more tantalizing. The softness in her smile and the kindness in her voice, her small stature and fragile figure often led men to believe that Hinata needed to be protected. In fact, however, she was the head of her family. The Hyuuga were famous for their real estate empire and Hinata had pulled them out of a deep recession when she'd only been nineteen years old. There had been a lot of rumors about tax evasion and corruption within the company, but she had managed to set it back onto the right track. It was admirable, what she had done already so young and without her father's approval. Shikamaru liked her a lot: Hinata was nothing like the ambitions career women he dealt with from time to time. On the other hand, only one brand of career women usually crossed his path: those that needed to be investigated, for one reason or the other.

"How are you?"

"Fine, thanks." She smiled, softly. "I trust you are well, too."

"Yeah."

"Ino said Naruto and Sakura will be leaving soon?"

"Yes, according to schedule."

"Good." Hinata smiled. "The hotel they chose is one of the better ones. They'll enjoy their time."

Shikamaru blinked at her. "Thanks for recommending it."

"No problem." She fiddled with the small bag that hung over her elbow. "I came to wish you a good night."

"Are you leaving already?" Kiba leaned around Shino to see her, and she gave both her friends a small wave.

"I am leaving for a business trip very early tomorrow."

Neither the detective nor the forensic pathologist seemed surprised. Both stood to give her a quick hug. Shikamaru left it at a firm handshake. Her grip was expressive.

"I already said good bye to Sakura and Naruto," Hinata said, "But I couldn't find Ino anywhere. Could you tell her I left, and that the party was wonderful?"

"Of course," Kiba said, grinning.

Shino, who had been staring out of the window, looked back at them, a frown on his face. "Are you going home all by yourself?"

Before Hinata could say anything Neji materialized from the shadow like a ghost, startling two other women passing by. "I'll accompany you."

Hinata looked up at him and shook her head, smiling. "I don't want to make you leave this early."

Shikamaru was a trained police officer and an experienced detective. His instincts had been honed by a multitude of cases, and he prided himself in his ability to read other people. But already as a child, Neji had been the type of person that was inevitably cast as the antagonist of a story: a mafia bosses' loyal servant, the right hand of the evil emperor. (A supporting role, yes, always. But never a minor one.) He had neither been a bully nor a troublesome child; in fact, his intelligence and relentlessness had made him stand out from his own peer group. Nevertheless, he'd had a dark aura. Shikamaru had only known him from the summer camp and there, still, the dark-haired boy had been unsocial and a loner. How Lee and Tenten had managed to crack his shell he would never understand. Years after Sasuke's abduction, long after the entire world had been looking onto a small village at the coast in which a child had disappeared so completely and utterly and had later been found brutally murdered, the rearrangement of the Hyuuga company had once again turned everyone's attention to Leaf. Following Hinata taking over the family business, the branch company was re-integrated into the main company. The new head of the family recognized Neji as her cousin and third-in-line to succession, and the deceased head of the branch company, Neji's father, was posthumously cleared of the charge of fraud. Which probably was the reason why Neji, instead of becoming Leaf's most successful villain, studied business management and began to work for Hinata's father. By now he was working for her, of course.

"They're leaving soon, either way," Neji said and lifted his arm, and they saw he had already picked up her cloak and scarf for her. "And I've got work tomorrow, as well." The way he held it for her left no room for misunderstanding. Hinata slipped her arms into the sleeves with a soft smile and a mumbled Thank you.

"Good night." Neji nodded to the circle, his face the same expressionless expression as ever. His hand, though, when he carefully led Hinata through the fray and towards the exit, was gentle. Shikamaru saw Hinata smile at him, and something unspeakable happened: Neji smiled back. Small, almost nothing more than the tug of a corner of his lips: but he smiled.

"Hell and high water." Kiba whistled under his breath. "Did you guys see that?"

"I don't know why you're surprised," Shino said. "You know he's been hers since she stood up to him that day in the camp."

"Yes, but!" Kiba seemed at a loss for words.

Shino sipped his drink and shrugged. "As long as he takes care of her."

"Ohhhhh, and if he doesn't, he'll have to deal with me!"

Shikamaru smirked and thought that Shino's single lethal glance in Neji's direction seemed so much more dangerous than all the loud, outspoken threats Kiba could ever make.

Naruto and Sakura left at eight, not without suggesting their guests stay a bit longer in order to enjoy the night. They were seen off with a lot of cat-calls and well-wishes when they got into the car. Naruto forgot his mobile phone and had to run back to get it, while Sakura exchanged a few last words with Ino and Tenten. When Naruto made it back, a shoe, once again, thumped against his head; he rubbed the sore spot sheepishly while grinning widely. In the car, Sakura pressed a kiss to his shock of blond hair as they finally left. The expression on Naruto's face was so full of adoration Shikamaru had to turn away.

Though some guests took their leave then, the party continued without them. At one point the music and lights and the late hour added an unreal, dreamlike edge to the atmosphere, and the dimmed light, the intermixing voices and the closeness made Shikamaru uncomfortable. At the same time, he was… fine. Lee and Tenten had joined him, Chouji, Kiba and Shino at one point, bringing a bottle of wine with them, and without that he could say when it had happened Ino had slipped into their small circle, as well. Silvery hair and blue dress and the real, small smile she only wore when she thought nobody noticed it: the girl he'd always known, always, since he could remember. He'd grown up with Ino. She'd been there when he'd taken his first steps and had followed him from there. They'd gone to school together and when her mother had died and her father had sent her to summer camp for the first time, he'd gone along. They had met Chouji there, who had completed their circle, and Naruto and Sakura and Kiba and Shino and Hinata and Tenten and Lee and Neji. Strange how even after all those years – after all those summers they'd spent with each other, heat and sunshine, closeness and antagonism and growing up – and all the things they'd gone through together: dead fathers and living ones, elder brothers, younger sisters and family inheritances, first loves and passionate rivalries and teenage troubles. Even after Sasuke's death; they hadn't broken apart. Even today, they still could sit together like that, spend time together like that: as if the only thing that mattered was that they were together.

Kiba laughed, his one hand stroking Akamaru's large head, while Shino smirked into his glass. Chouji was slowly but steadily finishing up the last snacks. Lee's grin split his face, his tolerance for alcohol never had been huge but he'd improved and he was now sharing a cocktail with Tenten, who was humming along with the music under her breath. A few strands of hair had escaped Ino's ponytail; they fell onto her collarbone in soft waves. Shikamaru forced his gaze away, but he couldn't ignore the warmth of her arm so close to his, or the scent of her perfume.

The last guests left at two in the morning, having shared the last open bottles of red wine between them before slowly ambling out. One by one, they took their leave, passing by Shikamaru and Ino to wish them a good night and to ask them to relay their best wishes – once again – to Naruto and Sakura. Kiba, Chouji and Shino were the last to leave. And then, rather sudden and unanticipated, the only thing that closed around them like a warm, heavy blanket was the silence.

The room was surprisingly un-messy. During the festivities, waiters had carefully carried away whatever empty bottles and used dishes they had found. A few glasses and some miscellaneous bottles of various alcoholic and non-alcoholic origin in different states of emptiness remained, as did some torn wrapping paper, napkins, one or two forgotten balloons, a few handful of crushed rose petals, Ino's flower decoration including the candles – and the ghosts of Naruto and Sakura. Tenten threw open the large windows and fresh night air spilled inside. Shikamaru thought he could smell the sweet scent of crushed rose petals mingling with it.

"That wasn't too bad," Ino decided, satisfaction and exhaustion both lacing her voice. She was surveying the room like a captain surveying his battle-marked ship, both her hands in her sides.

"What about the clean-up?" Shikamaru asked, yawning.

"The crew's coming in tomorrow. For now, we just have to remove anything that's ours."

Meaning: the decoration, the vases, the gift cards which had been left behind by Sakura and Naruto, some of the bottles of wine, the candles, tablecloths and so on. With a sigh, Shikamaru bent down to retrieve an argon-filled, dog-shaped balloon. The heavy noble gas kept the balloon bouncing on the ground just barely. It was wearing a real collar and a leash when Naruto was presented with it, and watching it follow the groom around the room, tugged on by the leash, had been one of the highlights of the evening. Ino was already folding the table cloths into boxes. The light caught in her hair and on the silk material of her dress. She looked tired, but she was smiling. He blinked, looking at her again – it seemed like she was fading at the edges, her shoulders dropping with exhaustion. Shikamaru wanted to touch her, to make sure that she still was there – and then she picked herself up again and continued on.

Together, they finished packing the things they had brought. The flowers, all in one place, had an overwhelmingly sweet smell, strong enough to get drunk on it.

"Lee and I have loaded the car." Tenten, who had stayed with Lee to help clean up the last things, pushed her head through the door. "You want me to drop you off at your place with all the things, or should I drop them off tomorrow?"

Ino smiled a little bit. "I'm tired enough to want to take you up on your offer," she said, "But I could use a walk. I'll be home tomorrow, just let me know when you come by."

"Will do," Tenten said, plucking her car keys out of her bag. "We'll be leaving, then, I'll throw Lee out on the way home. What about you, Shikamaru?"

He was tempted to ask her to take him home, as well, especially since he lived just a few blocks from her. But he couldn't just let Ino walk alone all by herself, could he?

"I'll take a walk, too," he drawled, instead. "Thanks."

"See you guys tomorrow!" Tenten waved, Lee grinned enthusiastically, and both of them disappeared towards the parking lot.

Ino locked the door behind them and sighed, her shoulders dropping visibly. "That was not as bad as I thought it would be."

"Hm-hm," Shikamaru hummed, non-committal, and fell into step next to her. Her heels clicked on the ground, echoing back from the walls surrounding them. In the darkness of the street, Ino's silhouette was almost invisible against the backdrop of the midnight sky. Only her pale skin and silver hair shone. Her shadowy figure next to his was painfully familiar: her thin shoulders, her lean body. The sharp angles of her face: he didn't need to see them to remember them. Blue eyes, blue as blue as blue. Something in the way her presence was as familiar to him as his own made his chest constrict.

(From the start it had been him and Ino, always together.)

"I saw you listening in on us earlier, by the way."

Shikamaru jerked up at her sudden statement. "When?"

Her face carried amusement, and perhaps a trace of accusation as she realized he had been doing so more than once. "You could have joined us for the conversation instead of leaving me alone with Sakura's mother."

He'd thought she hadn't seen him. "It was troublesome."

And Sakura's mother had the habit of asking him whether he and Ino would finally settle down and marry. She didn't seem to believe him when he told her they weren't together, just tut-tutted and shook her head as if scolding a child. Mrs. Haruno was a kind woman who loved Ino like the second daughter she'd never had – but Shikamaru could gladly do without one of her questionings which made some of the interrogations he subjected supects to look pale. And Shikamaru was good in doing what he did.

Ino snorted. In retaliation, she poked her index finger into his shoulder blade. Her long fingers with the familiar, round-filed and color-less nails were strong. He should have felt a stab of pain – her nails were sharp, too – but instead, a shiver ran down his neck and let goose bumps arise all over his arms. He turned his head towards her almost imperceptly and caught a whiff of her perfume: vanilla, apple and Ino. It was out before he could stop himself.

"Come to my place."

Her frown was pretty, even when she was tired and worn. "We're both exhausted."

"Doesn't matter." He knew her well enough to read the undercurrents in her tone, and he knew she was right. The only thing they'd do now was crash; that wasn't why Ino went home with him, or why he came to see her late at night. Still, he wanted to keep her to himself for a bit longer with an intensity that felt almost painful. Suddenly, he ached to touch her.

"Shikamaru," Ino said, her brows rising even higher. Just his name, and nothing more.

He's not my boyfriend.

Ino's lips were warm. She tasted faintly like wine and sweetness, mousse au chocolate, perhaps, and she didn't resist when his hands cupped her face and drew her in. Her warmth was intoxicating. Her hand came up and her fingers gazed his cheeks, danced through his hair like a ghost of a touch – but then, she dropped them again. Only the fiery traces of her touch remained. It was her missing response, or perhaps the faked half-smile she wore when he ended the kiss, that set something off in him that he couldn't define. Maybe it had been there the entire day – maybe even longer than that. He didn't know.

Suddenly, he didn't know anything.

"What are we doing?" The words were out of his mouth before he could check himself.

When he looked at Ino, she just stared, silver moonlight and dark night and he wanted to draw her in again and- "What do you mean?"

"This," he said, eloquently. "We."

"If I remember correctly, there is no we, exactly." For a second, he thought he'd heard an undercurrent in her voice – resentment? It was gone as fast as it had come.

"You said I wasn't your boyfriend."

Ino blinked. "You want to talk about our relationship?" She said the last word with an undertone in her voice that made something dark and ugly expand in his chest.

"We're not in a relationship."

Ino snorted. "That's what you keep telling me and everyone else. I guess you even believe it yourself. What is it, then, this something here, pray tell?"

He couldn't. He had no words.

"You said I wasn't your boyfriend." Repetition. Weak, but he had no other weapon at his disposal. This wasn't anything he – anything they had anticipated.

"I did say that. And I knew you heard me." Ino looked at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. "What should I have said instead? What do you want to hear?"

Shikamaru's mind was blank: it was a scary experience. Terrifying. "Are we really having this conversation now?"

Her eyes were mere slits as she regarded him. "Remind me again: who started this?"

Shikamaru rarely lost his patience. In fact, he couldn't remember having lost it in the past few years. Not since he, Naruto, Ino and Kiba finally had tracked down Sasuke's killer two years ago. "Don't try to shrink me, Ino!"

A crack in her armor showed when her voice rose in fury. It was visible in her eyes – always in her eyes. Cornflower blue turned to a dark blue so dark it was almost black. "Then don't talk down to me, Shikamaru!"

Growling with impatience, he spun away, then back to face her. "You're worse than my mother!"

That made her laugh, sarcastically. "Gee, thanks. Who doesn't like to be compared to a guy's mom."

A life-long habit of keeping his mouth shut when women became illogical and of observing his mother told him to relent, but he was too charged to give in silently.

"I just asked you to come to my place for the night. So we won't have sex, does that matter?"

"Yes, Shikamaru," she said, patient in a way she might have been with a traumatized police officer but not with him. "It does matter, because that's what it is about: sex."

She stepped aside and drew out her keys, and Shikamaru realized that they had reached her apartment complex. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Don't." Even to his own ears, he sounded angry. And he felt angry, too. Something was bubbling in his chest and spilling over into his head, something that silenced his rationality and only left raw feeling. He blamed the late hour, the busy day and the alcohol for making him lose his composure. And Ino. He hated it – hated the feeling of not being in control, of being subjected to this springtide of emotions. "You can't just walk away now."

"Why not?" She made no move to draw back her hand, and her voice was calm. But there was ice in her eyes.

"This is important."

"I can't see why. We agreed to keep this strictly professional. No feelings involved."

That's what they had agreed on, silently and mutually.

"I don't care."

"Do you even know what you're asking for?"

Her voice broke, halfway through the question, and suddenly something made sense. She wasn't half as disinterested as it seemed like, not half as cool as he'd thought she'd be. Shikamaru looked at her hand in his grip – Ino's small, delicate hands, her lean arms, white against the dark material of her dress. Looked at her shoulders, defiantly drawn up, and her face: pale and shadowed in the darkness. It was Ino, the woman he'd known since he could remember, but it also wasn't her: not the girl he'd grown up with, not the person he called his best friend. Not the woman he had slept with for the past… Months? Years? How long had it been? It didn't matter; the person in front of him was a stranger.

And, at the same time, it was Ino.

Maybe he just had never known her completely, and probably he never would. But it was Ino. Ino who laughed when he muttered under his breath, Ino, who would bully him into getting up so he wasn't late, Ino, who loved experimenting with sweets and cakes and would make him test her creations. Ino, who would touch flowers just for the sake of touching them. Ino, who hated it when his hair clogged the shower drain, Ino, who enjoyed his simple dinners even though she pretended she didn't. Shikamaru couldn't remember how often he'd woken up at night to the sound of her soft breathing and the warmth of her body: her face, when she was asleep, was so vulnerable. All those and so many more things only he knew, because he was the one who knew her longest and was closest to her, were parts of the person that was Ino, and Shikamaru didn't want anyone else to know these things.

Not now, not ever.

She was intelligent, sharp, annoying and beautiful, patient and impatient, strong and weak, and right now she was terrified.

"Troublesome."

Ino rolled her eyes, taking a step back and freeing her hand, and turned her back on him to unlock her door. Her hands were shaking subtly, bad enough to almost make her drop her keys.

"Good night, Shikamaru."

"Go out with me."

She froze, her foot halfway up the stairs. Shikamaru plunged forward, relentlessly.

"Officially. Let's go out."

"You're drunk." There was utter disbelief in her voice, but also an edge that sounded like hopelessness and loneliness and tears. "You're drunk and sleep-deprived, otherwise you wouldn't propose this."

"I'll propose to you, if you want it," he said, his head spinning but his mind steady. "And I'll do it after you've slept and had breakfast, so you can't say the lack of either of it is making you hallucinate. And I'm not - I'm dead serious. I've been stupid, Ino. I thought I was happy with the way my life was going, but I didn't see that you were the best part of it. That you already were a part of me-"

"Shut up!" Ino almost shouted. Her voice carried along the dark street and she froze in horror.

"Ino-"

"No, Shikamaru, shut up before you say something you'll regret forever. Why are you destroying everything? We were fine, we-"

"I don't want to be fine," he said, calmly. "I want to have you."

He could see her defenses crumble, slowly, inevitably. Her hunched shoulders spoke volumes.

"I don't know what you want from me, Shikamaru," she whispered, her hair obscuring her face.

You. The answer was easy, easier than he'd ever thought it would be.

Shikamaru stepped forward carefully, and, when she didn't bolt, wrapped both his arms around her. He kissed her hair, and her forehead, and finally her lips. She was unresponsive at first and then melted, lifting her head and then angling it so their lips could meet. Slowly, at first, and then increasingly passionate, until they were clashing in a way that wasn't proper to be shown on the streets.

When Shikamaru ended the kiss, Ino's breath was ragged.

"What do I have to do to convince you, troublesome woman?" He asked.

Her blue eyes were fixed on him, a mix of shocked disbelief and dawning realization clearly visible and for everyone to read. Her hand was gripping his arm, and gripping it too tightly: as if she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go.

"Tell Chouji. And Kiba."

"I'll tell Asuma, too," he offered, briefly wondering how much flak he'd get from their former tutor. Asuma was, on his best of days, super-protective. He couldn't be worse than Inoichi, though. "And your father. And Chief Morino, if you want. And-"

"Okay, okay," Ino said, hastily. "You don't have to tell the Commissioner. No, really, Shikamaru-"

Without letting her finish he drew her in, wrapping his arms around her again and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I think I'm in love with you."

Ino stiffened, but he didn't let go. And after a time that felt like an eternity but could have been a heart beat she exhaled, shakily, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her grip was almost too tight, but he didn't mind.

"Can I come in?"

He felt her tremble, maybe from exhaustion, maybe from the cool night air. She didn't react, but she didn't let go of him, either. Carefully, he picked her up and walked through the door into her apartment.

Even though Shikamaru was exhausted to the bone, he was wide awake that night: in the dim light of the moon, surrounded by the shadows of her bedroom, asleep and curled up in the blanket and her pillows, she was the most beautiful thing on earth he ever could have imagined. The uneven speed of his heart beat belied his calm thoughts.

Damn him. He'd really fallen for his childhood friend.

"Ino and I are going out."

Kiba dropped his coffee cup. He really, truly dropped his mug – sturdy porcelain as it was, it met the linoleum floor and didn't break. The last droplets of cold coffee spilled over the floor of the precinct's break room.

"You what?" He yelped, and at his expression Shikamaru felt a vague satisfaction.

"We're going out. Officially."

Shino sipped his black coffee without even moving a muscle in his face.

Chouji beamed. "Wait till Sakura hears the news."

"Ino will tell her, I'm sure."

"By the way, how are she and Naruto doing? One day married, what do you think how often have they fought until now?"

"That's not the point!" Kiba exclaimed, breaking into their conversation. "You can't do that, Nara!" His index finger was pointing at Shikamaru accusingly.

"What can't I do?"

"Just drop this bomb on us and continue on with the daily schedule!"

"Can't I?"

"Hell, no! When did it happen? How? Why? Sunday night, I presume? What next?"

Chouji grinned. "Worse than an old maid, Kiba, eh?"

Kiba glowered at the three of them. "I don't want to know details. Except that hell yeah, details, please, every dirty little one of them!"

Shino mumbled something into his tea that sounded suspiciously like chatty old maid, man.

Shikamaru sighed, deeply. "I asked her out, after the party."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing."

Kiba had just wanted to punch his shoulder, now he stopped. "Wait, what? She didn't say anything?"

"Nope."

"I always thought she was in love with you," Shino said, quietly.

Shikamaru poured hot water over his tea bag and shrugged. Chouji was smiling in a way that told him he knew more, but he didn't think this was the right time to ask.

"Well, whatever," Kiba said, blinking at his mug, deeming it clean enough, and refilling it with coffee. "Congrats, I guess?"

Manly as they were, they left it at that.

There was no marmalade left.

Shikamaru glared at the refrigerator as if staring at the inanimate object would make the jar he'd opened only a week ago appear from thin air. Quite predictably, nothing happened, except for the familiar humming and hissing of the refrigerator. Shrugging, he grabbed the cheese instead and turned back to the table, on which a cup of tea and two slices of bread were already waiting.

The doorbell rang.

Sighing, he bit into the buttered toast and walked into the corridor, chewing slowly.

"I told you to be ready at ten."

Ino's silver hair fell onto her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a cocktail dress this time, but a plain, black skirt and a violet top. From its collar, a thin golden necklace with an ocean-blue gemstone gleamed. He had to look away from her as to not keep staring.

"Good morning to you, too," Shikamaru said, swallowed the toast and took a sip of tea. "It's not yet ten."

Ino, predictably, rolled her eyes and helped herself to tea.

"Naruto and Sakura will be arriving in forty minutes, and we need to pick them up."

"Can't they move their stuff on their own?" Shikamaru complained. "Why do we have to help?"

"Because that's what friends do," Ino told him and smiled her small, real smile. When she caught him staring, she blushed. The red color rising into her cheeks made him want to-

He really liked the sight of her in his apartment.

"Shikamaru," Ino gasped into the kiss. "We can't-"

"Why not?"

"Because they're waiting for us!"

"I'm pretty sure now."

"About what?"

He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.

"I'm definitely in love with you."

She froze, completely. But just when he wanted to lift his head to look at her, he could feel the soft, soft touch of her hands on his nape, then on his shoulders. Her arms around him tightened almost painfully as she bunched his shirt in her fists.

"Shikamaru," Ino whispered. "Shikamaru."

His name from her lips sounded like a confession, made his breath hitch. The sound of her voice went straight to his brain. And to some place in his chest, and then, predictably, down to his groin, as well. Ino's lips were soft and warm and sweet, and the way she stretched towards him shut down any remaining thought process effectively.

Until she broke the kiss and pushed him back from where he had pinned he against the counter. The expression in her eyes was a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty. She swallowed, licked her lips, swallowed again, and Shikamaru wondered what she'd say-

"Get ready. We'll be late."

He went to do her bidding, grinning to himself. She was already halfway in love with him, as well, she just needed some time to adjust.

At the train station, waiting for Sakura's and Naruto's train to arrive, he ran his hand down and up her arm again, lightly, and pretended not to notice the shiver that went through her at his touch.

Appearances had to be kept, after all.