Joined at the sibling

by whiskeredschatz

Summary:

Shikato and Shikamaru Nara are siblings with an uncanny attachment to one another. No, they're not twins, but with the way they're almost glued to one another, they may as well be one person. It's weird, no one knows how to deal with it, and that's it. That's what the story is about - if Shikamaru had a younger sister, how would Konoha deal with it? Cause boy - they were **not** prepared.

Notes:

Wow. You're - here. Right. Erm, Hi, my name is Whiskers and I'm here to introduce you into the weird and wondrous world of Shikato and Shikamaru Nara.

Also, you read the tags. You know why you're here.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Why can't I write one-shots

Shikato and Shikamaru were siblings, the physical embodiment of the proverbial “joined at the hip”. One was never without the other - they shared a room, they often ate from the same plate, they had a common wardrobe, they refused to be separated on missions. In short, they were a bit of a nightmare. The running joke in the clan was that Shikamaru couldn’t have been born two years before his sister, because he wouldn’t have survived that long without her.

When Shikaku and Yoshino had tried to - ‘normalise’ their behaviour when they got older, it was impossible and the concession of separate beds proved pointless too, as they would always be joined into one. It was the most puzzling case of sibling codependency the Nara clan had ever seen.

“Get up already! You’ll! Be! Late! Move it!” That - was the thundering morning voice of Yoshino Nara, Shikamaru and Shikato’s mother. They loved her a lot, after 12 pm.

“Maru?” Shikato groaned from the bed closest to the window.

“Hmm.” Shikamaru grunted from the bed closest to the door. “If we don’t get up now, she’ll come in”, which was to be avoided at al costs. If Yoshino went past the ‘third warning’ and had to physically drag them out of bed, their ears would still be ringing well after lunch.

Shikato knew he was right but felt entitled to one last groan in despair once more before succumbing to the burdens of wakeful existence. Her hair was a jumble of hair ties and gravity defying matted poufs. Her eyes blinked and blinked, in vain trying to shake the call of sweet, sweet darkness. Shikamaru was no better, the picture of disheveled with one of his dad’s huge T-shirts hanging off his right shoulder. He too, groaned, because he remembered it was his turn to change in the bathroom and considered it to be ‘not fair’. The bathroom was always cold in the morning.

It was another rule - they could share a room as long as they changed separately.

“Why can’t I just change here? So troublesome.”

Shikato could empathise. “Mom and dad are paranoid. It’s a problem cause people talk.”

Shikamaru pouted. “People are stupid.”

Which, despite being very true, did not absolve him from his duty. Picking up a half-coordinated outfit, he crawled into the bathroom, before Yoshino dragged him out by the collar. Oh she’d know. They tried to trick her a few times, pretending they had respected the rule only to lazily change with their eyes closed. Who even thought eyes needed opening before breakfast? Yoshino would always figure it out and then they’d have to sleep with their parents and that was just annoying, with Shikaku’s snoring and Yoshino’s unnatural ‘wake up at first light’ business.

“Where’s Shikamaru?” Shikaku asked, peering at one half of his brood from behind the newspaper.

“Changing.” Shikato relied lazily, propping her head on one hand. Breakfast wasn’t even served yet, she could have been sleeping now, she thought through a yawn.

“Could you at least cover your mouth?!” Yoshino snapped, plates in hand.

Having just arrived, Shikamaru took their two plates and dropped bodily next to his sister. “Thank you for the meal!” The twins exclaimed in unison, before slowly picking up tamagoyaki pieces from whichever plate was closest. They’d stopped doing that, disregarding plate boundaries, for most other meals, but breakfast time was still an ongoing battle. Yoshino was about to tell them off for it, again, when Shikaku shushed her, mouthing “they’re adorable”.

She rolled her eyes at her sappy husband. Honestly.

When they stopped making progress on their food - which was about the time when they would almost drop their heads face down into it - Yoshino all but shoved them out the door so that they wouldn’t be late to the Academy.

“And don’t drag your feet! If you’re late again, you’ll be doing extra chores all of next week!” Their mother shouted at their backs.

Hand in hand, the twins nodded to each other and did their best to walk at a more normal pace to their midday nap area - Iruka’s classroom.

——-

“Oi! Are they really asleep?” Naruto shout-whispered, squinting his eyes in suspicion.

“Nah, I think they’re faking it.” Kiba dismissed.

“No one can sleep so much in one day. Why? Because at one point the body does not need sleep anymore.” Shino added.

“Wanna draw on their faces?” Naruto said. Of course he did.

Shikamaru and Shikato were sleeping in the back row, with their hands on the desk and their heads on their hands. Shikamaru opened one eye at looked straight at Naruto, who was focusing very hard, tongue peeking out, marker in hand. He was about to draw something on the Nara’s forehead. Shikamaru drawled a “Boo”, which caused Naruto to yelp and fall on his ass. “You’re supposed to be asleep!” He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Shikamaru.

“You’re not supposed to draw on people’s faces. It’s a drag to get the marker off.” Shikamaru pointed out, but took his bento out anyway, thinking it was about lunch time.

“So loud...” Shikato complained, peeking at the lively world around her with much disapproval. She didn’t even have to see where Shikamaru was pointing to know it was Naruto. “Narutooooo, why can’t you nap with us? You’re so nice when you sleep.”

“Hey!” Naruto pouted, but then he looked confused. It was hard to tell when Shikato - or Kato as everyone called her - was being mean or not. She was smarter than him and he didn’t always get her jokes. But he still liked the twins, cause they didn’t make fun of him and liked to share their lunch. They always complained they had too much food.

“What did your mom cook today?” Naruto asked, bouncing with excitement as he tried to peek at the not-transparent bento box.

Shikato didn’t trust his excitement. It looked too - effortful. “If I give you my box, will you let me sleep?” That was their trade - silence for food.

Naruto nodded in agreement, already reaching for Shikato’s box with one hand, and for her hand with the other, knowing he’d have to drag her outside to their tree. Shikamaru was already there, watching the clouds.

He should’ve entered the Academy a year ago - but since 1. their parents and the Hokage had yet to determine how to deal with two Nara’s in the same generation, 2. Ino and Chouji, the two other necessary ingredients for another Ino-Shika-Cho combo had been born a year after him, and, lastly, 3. Shikamaru had flat out refused to go to the Academy without Shikato and had promised to an ungodly amount of work to compensate for it, he started a year later, and Shikato, a year earlier. As such, the problem only developed and grew, along with the kids, and none of the adults had a clue how to deal with it.

Chapter 2: U serious tho?

Summary:

Maybe the adults thought it was about time to step in, but to what end?

Actions can have unintended consequences.

Notes:

Got some kudos! Super nice, thank you ^_^ If any feel inclined for some reviews... *leaves the words hanging awkwardly*

Anyway, shit goes down

“Ok. This has to stop.”

That was how Yoshino would begin her forays into the ‘issue’ that was the unhealthy codependency of her two children.

“Hn.”

That was how Shikaku would respond, signalling he was aware of the ‘issue’ and that his mind was, indeed, churning.

“What is the point of a clan of geniuses, if they can’t figure out how to deal with two children!?”

Shikaku looked at her pointedly. They had been over this many times and she knew perfectly well why the problem was there to begin with. It was their fault as parents who had not begun soon enough, and by the time the adults had realised the depth of the sibling connection, and its many, many, associated problems, said children had wizened to it. Fast. Because those two, Shikato and Shikamaru, were just as, if not more, capable to find clever ways to maintain the status quo than the adults.

In other words, they were not dealing with mere children. No. They were dealing with Miniature Geniuses. Worst of all, the two shared a common goal and that, my friend, is why the Nara clan is so feared by those who dare oppose them. Nothing worked better at stirring the lazy geniuses into work than a shared goal, a purpose towards which their restless minds could be channeled towards.

“Good moaaaaaaa-yawn-morning.” Shikato stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, her simple, clan-emblazoned, green tshirt, inside out. “Just morning then.” She amended upon seeing her parents’ grin demeanour. That woke her up quite well.

“I can’t wait to be allowed coffee.” Shikamaru more or less draped himself, half on his seat, half in his sister’s, head drooping towards her shoulder.

The motion was cut short by the slamming of breakfast plates and cups. The siblings shared a look. Their parents had been talking about them again. Shikamaru subtly slid his plate towards him and away from his sister. His arms tucked in, head hanging low, he ate the too hot miso without complaint. Shikato did one better and rushed to change her clothing, sitting next to father upon returning, opposite of Shikamaru.

The dance of morning anger avoidance successfully completed, they hurried towards the Academy.

“It’s the second time this week.” Shikato mused during lunch.

Shikamaru nodded, his deep frown an unusual sight on the face of a 7 year old. The pattern had changed - the morning discussion and ensuing discomfort becoming a more usual occurrence. “We need to make sure they see us with other kids after classes. Somewhere where they can find us by accident.” The boy murmured.

“The playground.” Shikato concluded. “And we need to play with the others. Actively.” The siblings gave a joined shudder at the thought of sacrificing the infinite relaxation of cloud gazing. Shikato shook her head with determination, bolstering Shikamaru as well.

“It needs to be done.” He concluded gravely, a sentence which sounded shy of death by hanging.

That evening, when Shikaku swung by the park to collect his wayward offspring, his slouching posture froze. He craned his neck and stared hard, but it was true. That was his son, Shikamaru, pushing the swing of Kiba Inuzuka and his pup companion, with the Nara equivalent of enthusiasm.

And that, even more shockingly, was his daughter, Shikato, trading hushed secrets with Ino Yamanaka, a whole 10 feet away from her brother. A fluke. It had to be.

Except it kept happening, in various forms, throughout the coming weeks. Only a few times had he seen them in their customary cloud gazing spots, and even then, the Uzumaki child had been right next to them, rocking back and forth and humming. And yesterday, Choji and Ino had joined them, the four of them entertaining a philosophical discussion about water vapour.

“Again? Are you certain?” Yoshino told him in a warning tone, for she was afraid of having her hopes of normal sibling interaction crushed.

“It wasn’t faked. I went by an hour earlier and double checked again.” Shikaku emphasised his point, because Yoshino had already asked him to 'make sure'. Several times.

Yoshino raised her palms defensively. “We need to be sure! I’ve started making changes to the guest bedroom, but we can’t do anything until we’re absolutely sure.”

“Absolutely sure about what?”

Yoshino and Shikaku shared a look of ‘oh shit’. They had been so caught up in the potential cause for celebration, they hadn’t noticed the two Nara menaces entering the living room, an arms width apart.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been spending more time with the other children at the Academy.”

Shikamaru eyed Shikaku with suspicion. “And?”

“Is that bad?” Shikato asked.

“Far from it! We’re quite relieved!” The words escaped Yoshino before she realised how they could be interpreted. Shikaku grunted to divert the two very interested pairs of eyes from their mother.

“How’s the Uzumaki kid?”

“He’s alright. Loud, but funny.” Shikamaru said.

“We bribe him with food and then he pretends to nap.” Shikato added.

“Hmm?” Yoshino asked, curious. “With what food?”

The cat was out of the bag. Uh-oh. Shikamaru and Shikato looked shocked and apprehensive, as understanding fell over the family. Of course they bribed Naruto with one of their bentos. Which could only mean they were sharing food again.

“I see. That’s it then. You two will sleep in separate bedrooms from now on.” They’d broken the rule. It had taken Yoshino weeks, no, months to make them sit on their own chair, eat their own food. Be appropriate in public, understand the meaning of boundaries. Families are close, and the love of one’s family is one of the greatest there is, but there are limits. No, not to the love, but to certain types of closeness. Many parents would no doubt be thrilled to have two siblings, a boy and a girl, so closely attuned that they would never fight, never make a fuss, soothe each other. And even though they would be lazy together and sometimes play instead of do chores, they would invariably help each other. When Shikato broke a plate, Shikamaru would complain of how he didn’t rinse the soap well enough and how that made the plates extra slippery. When Shikamaru ruined a batch of white sheets, Shikato was right beside him, insisting they had both been on laundry duty and they hadn’t noticed the green scarf.

But for Shikamaru and Shikato, it also meant that they never played with other children. One never ventured outside without the other. If they had a difficult topic to discus, they would both be there. And then when Shikamaru had to go to the Academy first, he didn’t. He flat out refused, as if he hadn’t even entertained the idea. No, child Shikamaru calmly explained, they had to go together. They had to enter at the same time. Yoshino had already been preparing for part time shifts at the hospital. Shikaku was a full blown Jounin commander. There was no way to make sure Shikamaru did go, even if they forced him. He was smart enough to know how to fail in such a way that he wouldn’t be disqualified from continuing, but simply required to repeat the first year. But that would be a waste of time, of clan resources. After all, wealthy clans were expected to contribute to the shinobi education funds, so that less fortunate shinobi enthusiasts could be supported regardless of their financial means.

The Naras were known to be exceedingly stubborn and in this case, both Shikaku and Yoshino were convinced that Shikamaru would not change his mind come rain or snow, because even if given time, the kid would never forget that one time him and his sister had been separated.

But this? This was war, in Yoshino’s books. Shikaku was watching the children closely. They were staring ahead, wide eyed, little gears spinning.

“Separate...” Shikato said.

“Bedrooms?” Shikamaru continued.

Acting as if shell shocked, but Yoshino paid them no mind. She was furious. Zooming out, they could hear her opening closets and drawers indiscriminately, stomping between the separate rooms.

They had done it now.

Notes:

told ya shit was about to go down

Chapter 3: Of parenting and blood

Summary:

I do believe The Parents have got some thinking to do.

Also shit takes the elevator to underground levels (ouch).

Notes:

There is this thing... called - self-preservation.

Mornings became a subdued affair. After school, Shikaku didn’t have to pick them up - they’d come home in time for dinner on their own. In fact, the siblings would be the first to finish, before going into the Nara forest, pruning the fruit trees, bonding with the deer, picking up herbs. The chores were done to perfection, in absolute silence. Not the comfortable Nara silence, the silence of lazy afternoons, cloud gazing or the soft clicking of a game of shoji. This silence felt empty. Sad.

Shikaku had expected some sort of comeback. A plan to regain Yoshino’s favour, to get the shared room ban lifted, but no such attempt was in sight. They did their chores, did well enough in school, and spoke to no one, as confirmed by their Sensei, Umino Iruka. They would now share some of each of their bentos with Naruto, but brought a separate box for him. Separate chopsticks. And they ate in silence.

“Have you seen them?”

Yoshino huffed. “Yes. They will get over it.”

Shikaku wasn’t so sure. If anything, they clung to each other more than ever. But all within the rules. No food sharing. No bedroom sneaking. No handholding. But no smiles, either.

“They haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. A month has passed.” Shikaku pointed out, frowning.

Yoshino’s steel facade was shaking. “It’s not right. It’s... unhealthy.” She drew the word out, as if it had done her some personal disfavour.

But it was difficult even for Shikaku to puzzle what the worried and conflicted mother mind of Nara Yoshino was referring to. Their behaviour had always verged on unhealthy. Arguably, the current events put things into perspective. Perhaps, what they had been doing before the fallout would have helped more than the Nara Cold-War. And both sides were just as stubborn, so who’d win?

“This is the worst they’ve ever been.” Shikaku concluded, because his kids looked dead inside, like they could never trust anyone ever again and that just wasn’t right.

----

“Next up: Shikamaru and Kiba!”

“I forfeit.” Of course.

“WHA?” Did Kiba have to shout?

Iruka frowned for the nth time that day, but it had to be the deepest one. What was going on with the Naras?! “Shikamaru, you know very well you can’t forfeit a spar. We’ve been over this before.”

While sullen, the boy didn’t try to logic-weasel his way out which was cause for great, great concern. Sporting a fittingly defeated look for the amount of effort he was about to input, Shikamaru stepped back into the circle. His sister was shadowing him a bit too close for Iruka’s liking, but it was within a safe distance so he let her observe. It took a couple of near hits for Shikamaru to get serious and use the skill Yoshino had pounded into him. That rouse Kiba’s interest.

“Heck yeah, it’s getting good!” And recklessness, because despite being taijutsu only, Kiba had the advantage of innate claws. Both Iruka and Shikato saw the exact moment Shikamaru was about to get a pretty nasty gash on his arm with the way he wanted to block the mid-air swipe.

“KIBA, STOP!” Iruka shouted and Kiba heard him but momentum carried him forward. One moment Shikamaru was looking at menacing claws and deciding which way to duck for the least amount of damage, and the other he was being flung to the side. His wrist twisted beneath him.

He was going to protest - Iruka didn’t need to pull him out like that. He could take care of himself. Except, it wasn’t Iruka, but Shikato, with a crooked smile and a bloody mess of a shirt. Iruka was maybe two paces behind her, staring in just as much shock as the children.

“Good thing I got your back, ne?” Shikato chuckled and then promptly collapsed.

----

Shikato had taken half a hand of claws along her back, twisting away but not fast enough. Kiba decided the only way to apologise was with a cat from Hana’s vet surgery. He came in all scratched up with a broken lip, thrusting the cat at Shikato.

“I’m so fucken’ sorry! Here, have ‘im! He doesn’t like me but maybe he’ll like you…” That much was clear from the crosshatching of scratches that adorned him. “I got excited and distracted ’n’ that’s not ’n excuse or anything’ but I didn’t fucken do it and then Iruka-sensei yelled ’n’-“

“Kiba. Stop rambling, it’s giving me a headache. It’s fine.” Like she’d already told him the last 10 times he apologised. To be fair, the gashes had only narrowly missed her kidney, so. “What’s his name?”

Kiba shrugged. “Ain’t got one. Came on his own, no collar, nothin’.”

“I thought I told you to scram, mutt.” Ouch. Shikamaru still hadn’t gotten it into his head the whole affair was an honest mistake. Kiba gave it about 2 seconds’ thought before deciding skinning wasn’t on his schedule for the day and left the hospital ward with a last mouthed “sorry”. Shikato was honestly impressed by her brother’s surge of - activeness?

“You’re too hard on him.” The way he looked at her, he most certainly didn’t think so. “It’s in his blood. Iruka-sensei should’ve given him gloves for practice a long time ago.” Kiba wasn’t allowed to use his claws, to the extent that he could control it, but no one had dared suggest he wear gloves for Academy spars out of a well-placed fear of Tsume’s barking.

Shikamaru dodged the uncomfortable topic by switching to one that was uncomfortable to Shikato. “You haven’t eaten much.”

“Not doing much.” Which was true, but she’d been having trouble eating for a while now.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Slow, steady reasoning. Shikato had been acting very strange since the Talk, when they’ve been forbidden to share a room. Not that Shikamaru’s had been doing any better himself, but Kato wasn’t eating enough. “You have to eat, Kato.” If nothing else worked: “Please.”

Shikato regarded him the air of someone sizing up a poker face. She gave in and tried to eat, small bites, because her brother’s worry was genuine, even though nausea was making it difficult. It hurt Shikamaru to use that never-failing ‘please’ card, but eating was crucial for her recovery. It was his job to take care of her, and he failed.

He wouldn't make that mistake again.

 

 

Notes:

*Someone* ain't got it - the self-preservation I mean

 

(why all my chappies so short I am incapable of posting longer ones cause I'm a feedback whore soz)

Chapter 4: It's not funny, it's depressing

Summary:

I'm sorry to say the going is getting tougher. And, as Yoshino comes to realise, it's the bad kind of tough (as opposed to the 'I'm a tough shinobi and I'll break your bones tough').

Notes:

angst, sad, I'm sorry the pixies were mean and sprinkled sad dust

And yet, he managed to let it get worse. Had Shikamaru been older and (arguably) wiser, he wouldn’t have placed so much blame on himself. On the other hand, perhaps he would have, because being a genius strategist curses one with the inability to understand the boundaries of one’s control over external factors. He had been so busy trying to figure out ways to convince Yoshino to allow Kato back in his room, at least until she recovered, that he neglected Kato herself.

He didn’t notice where the food went. Didn’t notice the long bathroom brakes, the persistent silence. The apathy.

Why did adults insist on praising his intelligence when he was so obviously stupid.

*

The whole of the main Nara family was awkwardly orbiting a physically healthy, but otherwise sickly looking Shikato. Shikamaru was brooding, not paying much attention to anyone. Yoshino was standing straight and tall, but her right pinky was twitching nervously. Shikaku was perched in the corner, observing the proceedings in silence.

“Ready?” Yoshino asked.

Shikato didn’t answer. She hadn’t answered any of the questions directed towards her over the past hour of packing, signing out and pre-discharge health checks. Everyone, except for Shikamaru, had noticed. No one, other than Shikamaru, had any idea what to do about it. It was easy to forget they were children, sometimes.

The two weighed in so often on clan politics or Konoha’s policies that it slipped both Yoshino’s and Shikaku’s mind they were ‘young’. Shikato was only 11, and Shikamaru 13.

Yoshino all but wrestled to get Shikaku off her back and convince him that *no*, carrying Shikato was *not* an option. Shikamaru was forgotten in the hospital. Shikaku went back to get him. Yoshino yelled at both of them for being men and being, by their very nature, difficult.

Finally, they made it to the compound, home, with a still silent Shikato. Where were the questions, the complaining, the whispering. Those two were always in cahoots, whispering about *something*.

But no, Shikato was quiet, yet obviously awake and aware, because she dragged herself to her own room, no questions asked.

“Shikamaru, come here.” Yoshino said, as soon as Shikato’s door clicked shut. He sat warily at the kitchen table, not liking the concerned adult parent face his mom was pulling. It usually spelled trouble. Shikaku agreed and was set on his escape, but got dragged back and shoved into his seat.

The situation spelled ‘intervention’ - a la Yoshino Nara.

“We have a problem.” Not expecting any sounds of agreement, she continued. “Shikato is not speaking. The doctors assured me it has nothing to do with the injury, but what do they know. Shikaku, I want you to get the deer ready. Shikamaru, you’re on berry picking duty.” She then shot up, straightened her clothing and nodded to herself. “I’m talking to Kato.”

*

The talk went - nowhere, because Shikato was unresponsive. It brought Yoshino close to tears. Her daughter just stood by the window, appearing lost. Her face seemed sallow, but the medic’s words rang clear: ‘Some parlour is to be expected after such an injury. She lost quite some blood for her age, but the tests have all come back normal. I have even asked my colleague here to confirm. You have nothing to worry about, Mrs Nara.’

What did they know, though? Her daughter wasn’t speaking.

No matter, the deer would fix it. They could sense illness, and heal members of the Nara clan in ways still undeciphered. You just had to feed them berries - lots and lots of them.

Shikamaru returned, bruised and bloody, but holding the juiciest, most luscious berries Yoshino had ever seen.

“Go wash your hands.” Shikamaru quickly left but Yoshino was following him. As he scrubbed the dirt off his hands with concentrated, circular motions, just like Yoshino taught them, he tried to still his heart. He was anxious. They were never allowed to touch the berries. Kami, the number of times Yoshino yelled at them for going *near* the red balls of doom. This was bad.

“Shikamaru, I want you to think very carefully about your answer. Is there anything, *anything* at all, that you want to tell me?” Yoshino said, her voice measured. Calm as a lake in the summer.

“I wanna take care of Shikato until she gets better. I’m her older brother, right? Isn’t it my responsibility to take care of her? You always go on about responsibilities and stuff.”

Yoshino nodded gravely. “I see. Is this why your sister isn’t speaking?”

Shikamaru was waiting for the sandal to drop and took his time drying his hands. He didn’t need to rub the towel *in between* his fingers. It was springtime. They’d dry in seconds. But he didn’t expect this sandal.

“What.”

It took a lot for Yoshino not to freak out, then and there. She’d been hoping it was a scheme, to make her bend the ‘each in their own bedroom’ rule. That they’d figured out the way to make her change her mind was to pretend Shikato was depressed. She would have been mad, furious if that were true, but it would have been normal. In fact, it would have been great, because the alternative - the truth, as it turned out, was that her daughter was, indeed, depressed.

Of all the shinobi ailments she had fervently wished but never worried her children would encounter, because they had each other, was those of the mind.

The deer. She’d have to put her hope in the deer.

Notes:

don't hate me, it'll get better but don't know when bc I have no idea where this is going. Hang on

stay strong.

(if you want more sad, I have original writes on albusandi.wordpress.com and some artsy stuff on insta @hindpaws but I ain't your guardian you do you)

Chapter 5: Now I'm kinda worried

Summary:

It's a new one. IT's - it's moving. But it's sad, so please have some snacks nearby. A napkin. A plushie?

Notes:

I have nothing to say about my writing consistency. It's been shit - my health - and I've been trying to deal with it - not well. Here's some more story. Hope you enjoy.

P.S. Is it moving faster than before? Does it feel rushed? Am I paranoid?
P.P.S. The answer to the last one is probably yes.
P.P.P.S. Now seriously -Enjoy!

You see, Shikamaru hadn’t been paying attention. Sure, he’d heard ‘doctors’ and ‘berries’ and berries earlier, so he scrambled and fumbled to get them. He got her the darkest, juiciest berries those doctors had seen since last Yoshino was pregnant. Never mind the brambles, the heat. He was on Kato duty. Yes, Yoshino couldn’t argue against that. Taking responsibility was respectable, a sign of an upstanding character. It was the behaviour that elicited trust. Trust. Yes. He needed to build back the circle of trust. Where to start. 

Those thoughts were there, making their rounds and twists and turns, when he caught wind of it. The news. The words that sliced his lungs and squeezed them dry. “Is this why your sister isn’t speaking?”. What. What - could that mean? Shikato wasn’t ‘not speaking’! She was - Shikato was recovering. She was more quiet, yes. More quiet than usual. Pain makes it hard to speak. It’s only natural to - he’d just spoken to her! Just. Wait. Had he? 

Shikamaru bolted up the stairs, left foot slipping, chin almost splitting, up, GET UP! Knocking frantically, he wondered why and then threw the door open. There she was, Kato, looking at the ceiling. At him. 

“Kato.”

There were tears in her eyes, silent, painful. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, the tears, and Kato didn’t tell him. She didn’t answer, but kept looking until their mother’s footsteps hesitated by the doorway. 

* 

“Is she?” It was to her son’s back that Yoshino asked the question, her son who was pounding berries as if he’d found them to be the enemy.

“What are you going to do about it?” Quiet, but furious. 

He had every right to be. She’d known it, she had, but it - ah, it stung. Because it was her fault, and Shikamaru knew it too. Worse, Shikaku would shoulder the blame and hide in a bottle, wondering why he hadn’t thought it through for longer. She was wondering herself now - was it so odd? So taboo? Amidst blood and politics, what did it matter. What did the happiness of two children matter. 

If only it had never mattered. She had simply wanted more for them. No, the best of lives, without jeers and sneers from any corner. Because they’d start out as words, but soon jobs, promotions, the better ones within the village walls. Their safety would have been compromised! Enclosed, close to her, she could help them. Be there for them.

Selfishness, then, as well as love, had guided her heart astray. Would she have done it differently? No. No, even now Kato might be - what. She was a child. An 11 year old child with a sadness profound and honest. Her Kato had been rejected by the very people she trusted. Of course Yoshino would take it all back in a heartbeat, how could she not. 

*

When animals do not speak a language shared with that of humans, they rely on other tongues or tails, hooves and paws, ears and noses. The cleaning of fur, the grooming of feathers, a rubbing of cheeks, a tapping of noses. The Aburame kikaichu, the Inuzuka hounds, the Nara deer - all had been derided on and off the battlefields. 

Yoshino held herself a healthy distance from them now - the Nara deer, even as her journey dictate she plead to them. Preposterous. A Nara in her adoptive clan’s forest. A Nara in their element, afraid of their deer. But the deer were huffing, circling. 

For all that their abilities were rooted in healing, their nature was unforgiving towards those who hurt the small and the weak. So Yoshino was free to plead for their help and in return, be cursed to wander their forest long after her mind failed and her body crumbled. But was that not better than getting drunk and waiting to die in a ditch, because you’ve failed your own child?

With the green of her robes lightly fisted in one hand, and a bottle of Soju to put Tsunade’s famous stash to shame in the other, Yoshino bowed. She bowed, but did not grovel. She had only wanted the best for her children; intentions must count for something.

* 

That was the last Shikamaru had seen of his mother, almost a week ago. Where was she? Shikato was sick, so pale and quiet. So very, very quiet.

“The scrolls” - Shikaku was at it again, mumbling on about those thrice damned scrolls. Yes, normally it took three days, but here they were. Six days later. 

“And there should really be sign, all the elders agreed” - Since when did dad start listening to the clan elders anyway.

Shikamaru couldn’t take it anymore. The worried nail biting, the hushed whispers, the hum. It their attempt at silence, their buzz of worry hummed throughout the house. It was maddening. And they were all ignoring one vital fact. Denial - typical adult behaviour. 

“This was the sixth sunset. That is the sign. Someone else needs to go.” There. The feared feline was out of the proverbial bag. Shikaku’s eyes widened, horror-stricken and bloodshot. 

“Let’s - ahem - let’s not be hasty, Shikamaru. That. That could be the sign, yes, but we can’t be rash. I - you know what that would mean.” Coward. Couldn’t even say it out loud. 

“Mom’s trapped, dad. Forever. She’s payment. Someone needs to pick up the treatment.” Shikamaru looked away from his father, from those eyes carved in disbelief. “I’ll do it. I’ll go.”

*

Notes:

This chapter's sad and that's it. Guilt ain't fun kids. It's catholic. *badum-tsssssss*

*Rushes out before the eggs start flying towards the rickety stage*

Chapter 6: Are we still worried?

Summary:

This chapter is dedicated to @background_chan, for whom I cannot fathom a good enough response given the lovely lovely comment you left for me. It spurred me into finishing this chapter, and posting it. I can't respond nicely to compliments, because I'm emotionally stunted, so I shall do what I do best: THROW STUFF AT PEOPLE I LIKE WITHOUT MUCH EXPLANATION IN HOPE THEY UNDERSTAND OK DON'T MAKE ME SAY IT OUT LOUD PLS

Also dedicated to literally EVERYONE who comments cause my brain FEEDS on that and then vomits words on the computer. It's a bit messy but I can't figure out how to fix it.

Notes:

Hello?

If Yoshino had to fend off one more overgrown cricket in this thrice Kami-damned deer forest, she was going to wring said deer’s necks dry - dry like hardened cotton left out in the sun! Oh sure, the deer were pissed at her for ‘mishandling’ her children. Fine. Fine! But sending her on a wild frog chase, when deer and frog had been declared mortal enemies since 300 years ago because of some stupid mistake made (predictably) by one of Jiraiya’s ancestors - that was in bad taste. The ancient Nara scrolls describing pilgrimages into the sacred deer forest spoke of rituals and offerings far more dignified than this. Usually one would be tasked with banishing some sort of scourge, or teaching the young fowl the intricacies of the shinobi way. No. This Sika deer elder, with all his nine tiers of horns, all filled with infinite wisdom, decided, in his great wisdom, to send Yoshino Nara on a frog hunt. He claimed he’d had “some vision” of one entering their forest not long ago.

Yoshino had a brief thought that being cursed to wander the forest forever would be preferable right about now. Her only consolation was that the deer elder had agreed to heal Shikato’s affliction.

*

Throughout ensuing seven days, since Yoshino’s departure, Shikato had become more withdrawn. She seldom reacted to Shikamaru, who spent more time in her room than anywhere else in the house.

Shikamaru, who oscillated between strings of arguments as to how, medically speaking, her recovery was being hampered by so and so, and bouts of silent crying by her side, like the 13-year old that he was. Tonight, it was the latter, as he allegedly tried to ‘help her to sleep’.

“I’m scared, Kato. Mum’s not back - Dad’s still going on about the stupid scrolls. I - I don’t know what to do.”

Truth be told, no child should have to figure that out. Shikamaru was torn. Having nowhere else to turn, but to the scant experiences he had to draw from, he’d tried to emulate his father, the way he’d seen Shikaku do when people came to him for advice.

“Give it to me straight, Shikaku. What… what do you think I should do?” The person would ask. Hesitantly. Always hesitantly, because everyone knew beneath the lazy, moderately approachable demeanour of the Jonin Commander lay a ruthless, straightforward man, whose logical clarity would swiftly dismantle any and all delusions of ignorance. More often than not, those who sought his help were privy to the answer already. They knew what they had to do. But just as many times, it was more comfortable to ignore the truth. It was more comfortable to build a cushy fort of ‘I’ll tell myself one more lie only, and then I’ll face facts’.

And so Shikaku would blow the house of cards away, simply by stating the facts. No lies, no fox shit. Once he did, people walked with their head a bit higher, their back a tad straighter. The heavy burden of ignorance thus lifted, they could go on to do what had to be done. It would still be hard, and just as unpleasant, but they’d be cure of dithering. They could focus on it, and get the job done, whatever that entailed.

Shikamaru tried to do just that last night, when he’d do abruptly and viciously laid out the truth on the table. It brought him no relief. No sense of clarity came with admitting that which he so desperately wished away. Saying it out loud, that his mother was unlikely to return after the six day mark had passed… That sharp pain he’d felt when he saw Kato fall to the ground, bloody. The pain in his chest? That’s how it felt.

“Kato, remember how I told you I’d go? I’ll - I’ll find another way.” Shikamaru admitted between sniffles. He promised himself he would. “I promise.” He promised Shikato he would.

The seventh sunset thus passed.

*

The next day, nothing seemed to change. Or the one before that, as stillness overtook the Nara household, griping its inhabitants in a malaise of silent dread and unease.

Except… Except for that slight squeeze Shikato returned when Shikamaru came to say good morning, breakfast in tow. The half-nibbled onigiri at lunch. Shikato ate that without prompting, while her brother went to fetch some water. She asked for something! Just water, but she asked. One word.

That night, Shikaku came to talk, as he’d made the habit of doing, about his day. Not about the hard matters of state and diplomacy, but the small things. The people he saw, the weather, whether or not he’d bumped into Naruto, who’d made his own routine of lurking around his office and accidentally bumping into him to ask about his friends. Shikato never said anything, not these days, but tonight, the third night after the seventh sunset, ten days after Yoshino had set out into the forest, she said Naruto’s name and smiled. Shikaku’s tears flowed freely at this, rarely having been as relieved to see such a simple sight.

That night, Shikamaru talked and cried himself to sleep on the side of her bed. He woke up with a nest in his hair the next day, Shikato having wound her fingers in, twirling it around. Shikamaru had never been more happy to brush the knots out of his hair in his life.

Fourteen days after Yoshino’s departure, Shikato was eating during all meal times. She spoke, little and quietly, and smiled, more than once a day. They were all in her room, Shikato listening to Shikaku talk while looking out the window, towards the forest. Shikamaru listened too, only at half capacity, having dedicated the other half of his brain to noticing any shift in Shikato’s behaviour for the rest of his life. Of his two hands, one was dedicate to his sister too, permanently attached to her hand, wrist, hair, shirt, cover, or rushing to get her that glass of water. Or make tea! He almost screeched with joy when she asked for a cup of her favourite tea.

“I feel compelled to bring Naruto over, unless I want my office to be completely covered by graffiti by the end of next week. When I said - I said that he could use a corner, not every corner...” Shikato complained, again, his jaw clenched tight in a show of discontent. His eyes were kind though, so Shikamaru didn’t even bother to point out he was lying and enjoyed Naruto’s company. There was no point to it if his father wasn’t fully committed to it.

“Can he come over? Kato, what do you think? Kato?” Shikamaru asked, frowning in concern. She usually answered direct questions these last few days.

Shikato was smiling, pointing at something neither of the other two Naras could see. When asked, she said: “Mom’s back.”

*

Notes:

consistent style? Who's she??

If you're still here, you're a champ. Good job. This chapter was a bit longer. I'm very proud. *puffs up chest only for it to deflate with a piteous sound in 5 seconds*