Disclaimer: Naruto and all its characters are belong to Kishimoto. Tragic, I know.

Note: Inspired by Chapter 613, quite obviously. And I honestly doubt Kishimoto will write Ino like I did, but whatever. I still see it as a possibility for her character. It's mildly ShikaIno.

Warning: Spoilers for Chapter 613 of the Naruto manga. This is one of probably many obligatory stories resulting from it.

How to Be Strong by HawkofNavarre

"Let us remember those who were lost in the war in this moment of silence."

Shikamaru lowered his head as stillness took over the surroundings. The war had ended and the memorial was now taking place near the northern border of Fire Country with the entire Alliance together for it. There were so many that had died, and the shadow-user hadn't left unscathed either.

He knew he was supposed to be mourning his father, or sending pleasant wishes to those who were no longer here, but all he could think about was the fact that Shikaku would have found this all so troublesome. The man wouldn't have cared for a memorial service—just the fact that they were alive largely because of something he'd done was probably good enough. He wouldn't have wanted tears, and maybe that was why these eyes were dry. Shikaku had only done what needed to be done, and Shikamaru had known that from the beginning.

Or maybe it just hadn't yet sunk in.

At that moment, a hand grasped his. He turned to look at his female teammate in surprise and it was a sight he utterly detested.

Ino's eyes were wound shut, tears streaming down her face as she struggled not to let her sobs out. She was shaking as her hold on him tightened, hunching her shoulders with Chouji's supportive hand on one. The pain was written all over her face.

Asuma's passing had been one thing, but Ino had always been daddy's little girl.

Shikamaru reluctantly returned her gesture, giving her hand a squeeze. He hated seeing her like this. They'd grown up together and he knew her better than anyone. He'd always found her loud, annoying, and horribly bossy, but she was also strong. Ino didn't like to cry, and though the shadow-user had been the cause of it a few times when they were children, it was never like this. He'd only ever seen this twice before: at Asuma's side and when Sakura had cut off their friendship.

The silence was too much. So many others around them were mourning and suffering, but all he could hear were the soft whimpers of the girl beside him. They were too loud. They were too goddamn loud.

She hadn't let go of his hand since the memorial. Well, as soon as they had began tree-jumping back to Konoha she had, but the moment they landed on solid ground in front of the gates, her hand was right back in his. Shikamaru didn't mind, mostly because she needed the support, and out of everyone that could offer it to her, he was the only one who could give it to her this way. He had spent his entire life with her, and though Chouji was his best friend, Ino had her own special place (as much as he hated to admit it). It was difficult to keep her from being important when her noisiness kept drawing back his attention. Even now, when she finally stopped crying, he couldn't possibly push her away.

The genius walked at a leisurely pace although he wanted nothing more than to go home and crash on his bed for the rest of his life. War was tiring, fighting was exhausting, and loss was completely draining. Still, he couldn't just leave Ino when she was so vulnerable. He had to bring her home first, and even when they got there, he wasn't sure if she was going to let go.

"…It's over, isn't it?"

"…"

Shikamaru glanced over at her, the blonde's normally bright blue eyes appearing dull and worn down. She looked solemn and hopeless, like neither of them had ever come out of the war alive. Her body was just as bruised as his and she'd probably only overcome the chakra exhaustion a couple of days ago, but it was the way she held herself that was so discomforting. The confidence and determination that she normally exuded was gone. This wasn't Ino. It wasn't her at all.

"The war…it's over, right?" she repeated softly.

"Yeah, it's over," Shikamaru replied, still moving forward.

"That's what I keep telling myself," the Yamanaka heir told him in a near whisper. "It's over, Ino, the war is over."

The war is over. Yes, it was, and this girl walking next to him…she was only a small result of the aftermath.

"The war is over…so why do I feel like it's not?" Ino asked quietly, biting her lip and stopping them both. "We won. It's done. We're putting our lives back together, so why do I feel like we haven't won anything?"

He thought she was out of tears, but he was proven wrong when he saw the water brimming in her eyes again. Damn it.

"It was never about winning, Ino. It was about survival. We're standing here, not under anyone's illusion, breathing," he explained dryly, glaring at the ground. He hated this. "Ino, they did what they had to. As a shinobi—"

"I know that!" she exploded angrily, clutching his hand almost painfully now. "Don't you think I know that? I knew that when Sarutobi-sama died, I knew that when Asuma-sensei died, and I may not be a fucking genius, but I know every risk that comes from being one of us!"

Shikamaru didn't say a word as she set her fiery gaze upon him. He could see the fury he'd unleashed with his tactless words, but wasn't sure what to do about. He'd never been any good with his own feelings; how in the world was he supposed to help with hers?

Her heavy breathing slowed, shaking her head to calm herself down. "This war may be over, Shikamaru, but I—I can't stop crying. I can't stop feeling the loss. I feel weak and hopeless and empty. I…I see kids playing on the street and I don't feel happy that they're going to grow up in a peaceful world; I feel jealous and angry and it's so wrong."

Ino choked out a sob and wiped her face with her free hand. "I don't feel like myself anymore. I think that…maybe a part of me died on that battlefield too, because I don't know how to be strong anymore. I don't…"

She wept gently as the genius contemplated her words, just now realizing why she held onto him. She didn't know how to be strong anymore, so she was clinging to him for support. Him, the only one who had gone through the same thing the she had and the only one who she allowed to see all her weaknesses. She needed someone and he was the one she trusted.

It was hard though, knowing that Ino was here to lean on him. Shikamaru didn't even trust himself to stay strong right now. How was it possibly considered strong when he hadn't even really accepted his own father's death? The moment he'd heard Shikaku's voice on that day just before it happened, it had shocked him, but logic worked its way into his mind quickly. His dad had done what was necessary when there was no escape, and there was nothing that anyone could have changed to prevent his father's fate. The facts were laid out in front of him, but none of it felt real yet. Watching Asuma die had forced him to see reality. Shikaku, though…he'd only been a voice saying goodbye.

God, he couldn't take care of Ino. He didn't even know what to do with himself.

"…I'll take you home," Shikamaru said hesitantly, still feeling that was the most rational thing to do at this point, but he immediately felt Ino resist. She shook her head vigorously, the look in her eyes practically begging him not to do what he had just said.

"Please, no, I can't," she whispered, pulling him back by the hand. He shot her a curious look as she shook her head again. "I can't be in the place where he tucked me in every night…! I…I can't go home knowing the only place I'll ever see him again is in a picture frame…"

The Nara heir swallowed, unable to say anything to that. She'd been Inoichi's princess and nobody else's. "Ino…"

"Please, Shikamaru. I can't…" The blonde seemed desperate and scared. "I can't go home and—and tell her I'm the only one coming back…"

He gritted his teeth. That's right, Ino's mom. His mom. Damn it, Shikamaru, how did it turn into this?

"You can stay at my house tonight. My mom likes to shop late, so she shouldn't be home right now," Shikamaru stated as he began to walk in the other direction.

"Thanks, Shikamaru."

The genius didn't reply. He really didn't seem to have any words today. It had been so much easier when they were fighting, concentrating on the battle, determined to survive and save this world; now he was forced with facing the reality of everything. He was not, by any means, an idealist or someone with wishful thinking, but he'd always liked to believe that peace meant he could lie beneath the sky all day, watching the clouds with nothing weighing on his heart or head. This kind of peace, however, was not at all what he'd had in mind.

"I'm sorry for being a burden," Ino apologized when they reached his room, her hand still firmly in his. Hearing that from her was the weirdest thing he'd probably heard in his life, because Ino did not apologize about anything. She was a proud person and spoiled girl who would never admit to being wrong. That coming from her…it was wrong how much she'd been damaged.

"You can go clean up in the bathroom. I have some old clothes in the left drawer," he told her, gesturing to the nearby door in his room.

She nodded, giving his hand a light squeeze before finally letting go. He watched her walk into the bathroom and close the door, peeking out at him for just a second with a meaningful look as it shut. For now, she was hurting, but Shikamaru was certain that she was going to heal. Today she just needed help and he was never going to deny her that.

Sighing, he sat on the floor against his bed, unwilling to lie on his blankets when he was so filthy. If he got his sheets dirty, his mom was going to make him wash them himself, and that was far too troublesome for his liking. It'd been such a long time since he had been back in his room, and he wanted to keep himself from becoming a slave for at least a little while.

Shikamaru curled the hand Ino had held into a fist, stretching out the stiff muscles. She had always been a drama queen, the emotions within her so much more potent than in others. She didn't know how to live with her father gone and it hurt. She cried so much and felt so much; he was almost jealous of her because he felt so numb.

Admittedly, the house seemed emptier without Shikaku. Granted, it was only ever loud when his mom was around, barking out orders and just generally being a pain, but his dad had always left a sort of presence wherever he was. He'd been so wise, despite being utterly whipped by his wife. He'd taught Shikamaru so much and saved so many people.

The male looked down when his hand hit something small beneath his bed. He reached for it, still unsure of what it was until it was within his grasp. He didn't look at it at first, trying to convince himself that it wasn't what he thought it was as he grazed over the surface of the object with his thumb repeatedly. He knew that shape better than anything, and he knew the word engraved in it like it was his own name. There was no way he could keep telling himself that it was something else.

Shikamaru pinched it between his index finger and thumb, lifting the item to eye level. It was a shougi tile. It was the most important tile in the entire game.

The king.

He clutched the game piece so tightly within his hand that it started to turn white, but it didn't matter. The numbness had drifted away and suddenly everything was overwhelming. His heart throbbed, his eyes burned, and he wanted nothing more than to scream. Memories hit him in a relentless attack as he finally felt the unfairness of the world pushing him into anguish. No teacher left, no one left to play shougi with, no more wise words…

No father.

Shikamaru wasn't even sure when he started to cry; he just knew he was. Being stabbed in the gut hadn't hurt this much, but at least letting his tears go seemed to help, sobbing with his forehead on his arm and wailing into his knees. Ino had come to him because she didn't know how to be strong anymore—irony; he couldn't even contain his own weakness.

He hardly heard the door click open in his state, but he heard the light footsteps coming across the room. Knees hit the floor as he felt Ino's arms around him, her cheek fixed against his and he knew that she was crying too.

The two of them had stayed together like that for a long time, though neither of them could really put a number on how long. Shikamaru just knew that by the end of it, the water from her wet hair had gotten his legs damp and his back was really sore. She was currently getting his shoulder damp as well, now leaning her head on his left arm while she lounged around in his old white t-shirt and black shorts. Troublesome woman.

At the very least, they weren't crying anymore and Shikamaru definitely felt somewhat better. Even the dullness in Ino's eyes had disappeared and he could see a gentle fire alight within them again.

"Do you…think we'll be okay?" she asked in uncertainty as they stared at the wall.

It definitely hadn't felt like it would be moments ago because he'd figured out what she meant by feeling empty, weak, and hopeless. It was her support that had helped, knowing that he could rely on her just as much as she was relying on him. They could lean on each other and heal each other. They could learn to be strong again together. It was never going to feel good knowing that his father was not going to be in his future, but maybe one day it would be easier to live with that fact when he had her here to hold him up.

"Yeah," Shikamaru answered. One day. "I think we'll be okay."