The Wishing Well

by AquaviriusMaggot

Summary:

Shikamaru thought he had practically everything under control. Being so intelligent was both a blessing and a curse. Almost everything was predictable if one had the necessary knowledge and a prodigious mind like his. Ino was predictable, Chouji was predictable, his friends were predictable, even his mother and, to a lesser extent, his father were predictable.

In the silence of his room, he stared at the ceiling with boredom, wondering if he would ever find something or someone that could pull him out of his monotonous lethargy, just as his father had seen something special in his mother. Perhaps he would have to toss a coin into the stupid wishing well and pray like a fool for something to change in his life.

What Shikamaru ironically didn’t know was that his wish was about to come true sooner than expected. For better or worse...

Chapter 1: Part I - I

The one who said the war would end with Voldemort’s death was a fucking idiot. His death merely marked the end of one phase and the beginning of another, even worse one. Harika had been very naïve to think that everything would improve, but the truth was that it didn’t.

As soon as Voldemort turned to ashes and they managed to capture several Death Eaters alive to be brought to justice, the only thing she could do—because she had nothing else to do—was to look back at the castle. Her first home, destroyed. She gazed at the black columns of smoke, the broken walls, the injured people crying in both pain and joy. She wasn’t particularly happy, despite having killed the murderer of her parents. When she entered the Great Hall and saw the line of bodies laid one after another, waiting to be tended to, her stomach turned, and a lump formed in her throat. For a moment, she had forgotten.

She walked slowly to where Fred, Remus, and Tonks lay, but on the way, she saw the corpses of other friends and acquaintances she hadn’t noticed before, like Colin or Lavender. She stood there, frozen like a statue, her heart breaking all over again. She had to turn away to keep from vomiting or bursting into tears. She saw Mrs. Weasley silently crying beside Fred, holding his cold hand in hers while stroking his hair. And George... She would never forget his vacant expression, as though he weren’t really there, as though he had died as well.

Harika had the bittersweet fortune of having lost her parents very young, of not having siblings, and of having known Sirius relatively little. She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to lose any of them if she had known them her whole life. It was simply unthinkable. For the first time, she felt like a stranger, surrounded by the Weasley family. Unlike her, Hermione didn’t seem out of place, clinging tightly to Ron while Harika stood just behind the grieving family. She swallowed hard, turned around, and searched for a bathroom that was as intact as possible.

Only when she locked herself in a somewhat broken stall, behind a silencing charm, did she break down crying. She was overwhelmed. She cried for Dumbledore’s manipulation and betrayal, for the dead children who had given their lives instead of being saved by the adults, for Fred who would never make her laugh again, for Remus and Tonks who had left behind their newborn son… She sobbed as she remembered her own near-death and how she had truly believed she was going to die.

In the days following that fateful day, the funerals began. Harika attended them all alongside the others, even though she was still emotionally drained. When Fred was finally buried, she realized she needed to let the family mourn him alone, so both Hermione and she disappeared for a few days to give them space. They went to Grimmauld Place, despite not being particularly eager, as it was the only place available.

"I prefer this to spending another night in that tent," she told Hermione. "If I have to step foot in that tent again, I’ll go insane."

"I know, me too. We should start cleaning this place again," Hermione said with a sigh, gesturing to the Black family home. "I wouldn’t want to stumble across any surprises."

And so, they began cleaning everything, this time using magic, to distract themselves. They both knew it was only temporary since Grimmauld Place wasn’t very spacious. Hermione, quieter than usual, spent the idle moments lost in thought, while Harika tried not to think about anything. But the truth was, she had things she needed to think about.

A few weeks later, she received a letter from Gringotts. She had to enlist the help of Andromeda and Kingsley Shacklebolt to face them. As expected, the goblins weren’t pleased.

"As you can understand, Miss Potter, we at least expect an explanation after you stole a dragon and destroyed half the bank," hissed a goblin she had never seen before. "We demand compensation for the damages!"

"It wouldn’t have been necessary if Griphook hadn’t betrayed us," she explained, calmer than she had expected to be. After the year and a half she’d had… the anger of a goblin was the least of her worries. "The deal was that I gave him the Sword of Gryffindor in exchange for the cup that was in the Lestrange vault. He didn’t fully keep his end of the deal, so we had to do what we thought was necessary."

The goblin silently regarded her over his tiny glass spectacles. He looked very irritated and angry but also somewhat intrigued upon hearing her explanation. He raised an eyebrow before speaking again. Andromeda and Kingsley remained silent, ready to intervene only if needed.

"...Why did you want that cup?"

"It was a Horcrux of Voldemort."

Andromeda gasped in surprise, while the goblin recoiled with a disgusted expression. Kingsley, meanwhile, seemed not to know what she was talking about. She felt a pang of envy for his ignorance, to be honest.

"I see."

"I hope that, knowing this, Gringotts will be more... understanding," Andromeda said indignantly, her voice heated. "After all, if it were revealed what Gringotts has been safeguarding all this time, the bank’s reputation wouldn’t look so good."

And so, Harika narrowly escaped unscathed. It was clear Gringotts didn’t want it known what they had been protecting there for so long without realizing it, but at the same time, they couldn’t let what had happened go unpunished. After several minutes of discussion, they agreed that Harika would withdraw everything that belonged to her within a week. She didn’t mind. The gold in Gringotts wasn’t invested in anything, so it wasn’t generating income. She didn’t care whether it stayed there or was removed.

She had 90% of her fortune, left by her parents and Sirius, converted into gold and silver bars for easier transportation. She also emptied Sirius’s vault of all the books and other items she hadn’t yet examined, even though years had passed since his death. On the advice of her companions, she purchased a bottomless satchel-style bag and a purse, both enchanted with every possible spell and charm—some of them illegal, on Andromeda’s recommendation. After all, she was carrying her entire fortune. The last thing she wanted was to have it stolen.

That wasn’t the last time she went back to Gringotts. Many people, deeply grateful for her killing Voldemort, sent her considerable sums of money and even other valuable items. Every few days, she received a letter from Gringotts to accept the gifts or inheritances within the one-week deadline they had agreed upon. She gave a good portion of the money to Andromeda, for Teddy, and to Hogwarts so they could repair the castle as soon as possible, but she kept what wasn’t money. When McGonagall stopped accepting her donations, she kept the gold. With the inheritance from her parents and Sirius, she wouldn’t need to work in her lifetime—or the next—if she spent the money wisely.

Still, once the Gringotts matters were settled, she was left with nothing but the tense monotony at Grimmauld Place. June arrived, bringing the news that Hogwarts’ full restoration was expected by late August and that, if she wished, she could return to the castle to resume her studies. Hermione smiled, reminding her of her pre-war self as she read the letter.

“I’m glad Hogwarts will be back on its feet so quickly.”

“Yeah…”

“Harika? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can set foot in Hogwarts again, Hermione,” she admitted, swallowing the tears stuck in her throat. “Not after everything that happened there.”

Hermione said nothing. She simply nodded. Her friend had fought beside her and had lost friends too, but she hadn’t died on Hogwarts grounds. She hadn’t seen Dumbledore’s memory talking about her death as if it were a mere formality, something he had planned for years. She hadn’t walked through the forest knowing she’d never see her loved ones again. She hadn’t woken up feeling broken because she hadn’t died. Sometimes, she envied Hermione’s resolve. Even now, they both knew she would return to Hogwarts to properly finish her final year.

“You’re going back to Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but first I want to find my parents,” Hermione confessed.

“Do you want me to help you?”

“…Ron offered,” Hermione said, her expression somewhat guilty.

Harika blinked, realizing Hermione wanted to go with Ron, not her. It didn’t surprise her. After so many years, they had finally taken the next step in their relationship. She understood their need to be together, alone, especially after the awful year they spent in a magical tent. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little to hear it. The silence stretched too long. Hermione seemed to realize she wasn’t very happy about what she’d just said because she started making excuses, but Harika didn’t want her to invite her out of pity.

“You can come if you want. I just thought we could use some distance after—”

“Hermione,” she interrupted, her voice sharper and more authoritative than she intended, “it’s fine.”

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something else, biting her lip, but once she saw Harika’s determined expression, she gave up. Three days later, Hermione and Ron left for Australia after promising to contact her if anything happened or if they needed help. Harika, sinking into a depressive stupor, couldn’t have cared less. In those three days, she realized life was moving on and that Hermione and Ron now had a life together where she didn’t fit. She wasn’t jealous because she loved them both as her best friends, but she felt… lonely. She felt a hole inside her she didn’t know how to fill.

She spent her days cleaning the house until it was spotless. She made repairs with her magic, organized the rooms… but every now and then, she had to stop to cry. It was a depressive cycle she couldn’t seem to break until one day Ginny showed up and dragged her to the Burrow.

“It’s not good for you to spend so much time alone in there,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Part of her was angry that someone thought they had the authority to tell her what to do. Another part was glad she mattered enough to the Weasleys for them to check on her. The atmosphere in the Weasley house was sombre, sad, melancholic… exactly what she needed to feel worse. Strangely, it was Fleur who noticed how bad she truly was. After lunch, she pulled her aside to speak privately.

“Harika,” she called, her accent much softer than it had been years ago, “are you okay?”

“I guess. As much as one can be,” she replied sarcastically, without much enthusiasm. “Why do you ask?”

“I think you should see a mental healer.”

“A what?”

“It’s like a psychologist, but in the magical world.”

“No, thanks. That’s the last thing I want—to tell my stuff to someone so the whole world can find out.”

Fleur muttered something under her breath in French that Harika didn’t understand. Then she let out a heavy sigh.

“I can recommend someone very good. My sister Gabrielle and I used his services during the tournament year. He’s a Muggle-born wizard, a mental healer and psychologist, and he uses confidentiality contracts… unlike most of the idiots in this country,” she added pointedly with a sneer.

Harika was quite surprised to hear about the confidentiality contract. That was one of her main concerns, considering she always seemed to end up on the front page of a newspaper.

“Can I think about it?”

“Oui. I’ll give you his address and the nearest Floo portal so you can see him, if you wish.”

“Thanks, Fleur.”

That day, she returned to Grimmauld Place under the pretence that there weren’t enough beds at the Burrow. She spent several days thinking about the psychologist, but when she broke down crying yet again over a random memory, she knew she needed help. She didn’t want to keep feeling this way for the rest of her life, and she knew she had issues that had nothing to do with the war. It took her a lot of courage, but she had to do it because she wanted to feel better. Even if she didn’t know if it would work, she was willing to try. That’s how desperate she was.

That’s how she started her therapy sessions with Armand the next day. Whatever he saw during that first consultation was enough for him to say she needed therapy twice a week, when the usual frequency was weekly or biweekly. She knew she wasn’t okay, but it hurt to think her situation was worse than she had expected. He gave her a diluted potion to help her sleep better, without nightmares, and strongly recommended she visit a hospital to address any health issues she might have.

It took a couple of sessions to convince her to get a check-up because part of her thought she didn’t have the right to seek medical help unless something really serious happened. Harika, who had never set foot in a hospital in her life except for the Hogwarts infirmary, ended up visiting a magical medical clinic, private, where they took clients' health—and especially their privacy—very seriously. Of course, since it was her psychologist’s recommendation, it wasn’t in the UK.

“How is this possible?” the doctor asked after completing her examination. “This is…! How did no one at Hogwarts notice you were malnourished? How is it possible you haven’t received any vaccinations? This is an atrocity!”

Harika listened, her stomach churning, as the doctor talked about her injuries, scars, her incorrect eyeglass prescription… even her menstruation, which she had thought had been irregular, turned out to be affected by stress. Apparently, stress was more dangerous than she’d realized. It turned out her cycle wasn’t irregular in the normal way but as a consequence of all the stress she’d been under since she started menstruating. She left with a box of potions, instructions on how and when to take them, several creams for her scars, and a potion to correct her vision issues, which, apparently, was common in the magical world. Yet, no one had ever thought to mention it to her. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she had seen anyone in the magical world wearing glasses besides herself?

She spent a week feeling depressed after realizing how much she needed to fix, both physically and mentally. Armand, however, seemed pleased.     

"It’s a step in the right direction, Harika. You’re showing the will to change for the better, and even though it’ll take some time, in the end, it’s what you need."

"I know, but I don’t like thinking about everything I have to do. I’d rather just forget it."

"And I understand that, but we both know that’s not possible."

"I know," she reiterated with a sigh.

In just a few days, she noticed the effects of the creams on her scars. The Muggle scars disappeared within a day, and the magical ones began fading gradually with the continued use of the ointments. Her vision also improved daily, though she knew it would take a few more weeks to fully rid herself of glasses. What she liked the least were the potions meant to combat the effects of her malnutrition. They upset her stomach so much that she was bedridden for hours and felt tingling in her limbs.

"It’s normal. Your body is rapidly recovering many essential nutrients through magical means in a very short period. You need to recover from multiple deficiencies, anaemia, and even nerve damage caused by torture curses."

"How long will this treatment last?" she asked, exhausted and slightly dizzy.

"I’m afraid it’s going to be a long journey. You’ve suffered malnutrition since you were almost two years old… not to mention everything else."

"But don’t you have an estimated timeline?"

"I’m giving you the highest possible dose. Judging by your new bloodwork compared to the previous results… I’d say at least six months."

Harika let out a dry, ironic laugh. Six months of daily potions. Even though she hated it, she didn’t want her health to deteriorate further, so she admitted defeat and kept taking everything prescribed to her. She also discussed her therapy sessions with Armand, and according to him, she had a long way to go to address everything wrong in her life, which was no small feat.

"You’re dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder, survivor’s guilt, and, frankly, a few other things," her psychologist admitted, proceeding to explain each condition. "It’s normal, considering everything you’ve gone through in your life. It’s treatable, of course, but it won’t be an easy path."

"Yeah."

She already knew it wouldn’t be. Was there anything easy in her life? Still, Armand was a good psychologist. He explained things in a concise and understandable way, and he wasn’t condescending. He was the one who made her question why she continued living in Grimmauld Place despite being able to sell the house and buy another, and he also made her reconsider if she truly understood as much about the magical world as she thought after seven years. He recommended hiring a good law firm to handle her legal affairs, such as preventing defamatory headlines in newspapers or stopping people from profiting off her name and image publicly without her permission.

In fact, that was something Dumbledore should have recommended to her years ago. Harika was starting to realize that Dumbledore hadn’t been the most competent person in the world, despite holding him in high esteem for years. Maybe he hadn’t mentioned any of this because he thought she wouldn’t live for many more years? Who knows, but every time she thought about the headmaster, she felt more and more angry.

"I wondered when you’d seek out a good lawyer," Andromeda said when she visited her and Teddy. "I thought you were waiting to receive your inheritance when you came of age."

"No. It never even crossed my mind, but I need a good one."

"I can give you a few names if you’d like."

"Really? That would be a huge help. I don’t even know where to start," she sighed.

"Are you okay?"

"No. I’m realizing I have no clue what I’m doing," she confessed, feeling overwhelmed. "Every time I take a step forward, I take two steps back the next day."

"Why do you say that?" Andromeda asked, her face full of sympathy.

She gave her a brief explanation of the potions she was taking to improve her health, her psychological issues, her growing desire to leave Grimmauld Place now that Armand had planted the idea in her mind, the fact that she hadn’t completed her magical education—or her Muggle one—how she still didn’t know many things about the magical world that were commonplace for others… She ended up crying from the stress. Andromeda hugged her for a long time.

"All of this has solutions. You’re just too stressed and overwhelmed to see them now, but they exist. For starters, if you don’t want to live in Grimmauld Place, sell it and buy something new that you like. We can find a real estate agency to handle the entire selling process, and in the meantime, you can stay here until you find a new home. As for your magical education, you can take the exams at the Ministry next year without having to attend Hogwarts. That’s what a lot of people who study at home do, you know?"

"Really? I didn’t know that," she said, surprised.

Although, now that she thought about it, it made a lot of sense. Considering the size and amount of space in the castle, it was obvious it was designed for far more people.

"Really. And you can even take exams for additional subjects. You can send a letter to the Department of Education to ask which subjects you can be examined in, what the exam schedules are, etc. Regarding your knowledge of the magical world, you can request the beginner’s book pack for Muggle-borns at the bookstore. They should have made you buy one, even if your parents were wizards."

Harika left Andromeda’s house feeling strangely lighter.

By the time July arrived, with Andromeda’s help, she was able to hire a lawyer to sue the Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly, the authors who had used her name to write fantasy books, and the people who had used her image to sell products. According to her legal team, it was an easy case since no one had been granted permission, especially considering she had been a minor until recently. Grimmauld Place was emptied after she bought a magical trunk that could store everything she owned, and it was put up for sale.

To her surprise, she sold it for an enormous amount of gold. Not only were the magical barriers on the property worth a fortune, but it was a house in central London. Additionally, its numerous floors, combined with the fact that it had belonged to the Black family—and her—had exponentially increased its value. She was paid three times the amount of gold that the Potter vault had held the first time she opened it at Gringotts when she was 11.

The magical house she purchased in Unapool, Scotland, had only two floors, but it boasted a grand backyard and front yard, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and magnificent views of a lake just a ten-minute walk away. Not to mention, it had no neighbours for miles. Moreover, it was far from cities and crowded areas, nestled in a forested and mountainous region. It cost her significantly less compared to what she had received from selling Grimmauld Place. She didn’t need to hire a team to set up magical barriers, as the first thing she did, with Kingsley’s help, was place it under the Fidelius Charm, making herself the Secret Keeper.

"I'm glad to hear that," Armand smiled. "The decisions you've made recently are very brave, and it's clear how much you've improved."

"Honestly, leaving Grimmauld Place felt like lifting a weight off my shoulders. Just like hiring those lawyers. I feel much more protected now."

"That's normal. You feel protected because you didn't have any legal protection before."

"I've also decided to take a sabbatical year to study at home and take the exams at the Ministry next year."

"That's amazing, Harika!"

They talked for a while longer. When she left the session, Harika realized that therapy was working. Even the potions she took to reverse her malnutrition and nutrient deficiencies no longer made her feel as dizzy. She no longer needed glasses, and her magical scars were almost invisible to the human eye. The most stubborn ones—the older scars, like the curse scar on her forehead or the basilisk fang wound—still needed treatment with ointments, but she had been assured they would fade in a few weeks.

It was incredible to think about what she could achieve with money—and magic. Nobody had ever mentioned these ointments to her because they were expensive, but it angered her to think that they existed and no one had even bothered to ask why she wasn't using them.

The nightmares, though less frequent, were still recurring. It was Andromeda again who gave her an extra idea to combat them.  

"Occlumency?" she groaned in dismay. "I'm terrible at it!"

"You're not terrible. You had a terrible tutor and Voldemort in your head. Anyone would struggle to maintain mental barriers under such stress," Andromeda said firmly. "I can teach you if you'd like."

"You know Occlumency?" she blinked in surprise.

"Of course! I might have been disowned, but I'm still a Black, and I was taught all kinds of things."

"Alright then."

That's how she started private Occlumency lessons with Andromeda, who was furious when Harika explained how Snape had taught her to build mental barriers. Essentially, Snape had only "tested" her barriers to see if they held up against an attack, but since he hadn't explained how to create a barrier, it was impossible to block any mental intrusion because her barriers were non-existent.

"That bastard! If he weren't already dead, I'd kill him myself," Andromeda hissed with a violent expression Harika had never seen before. "He couldn't have been more useless and incompetent."

Harika wasn't surprised to learn that Snape hadn't properly taught her Occlumency. After all, he had also been a terrible Potions teacher despite being a skilled potioneer. One thing was making potions; another was teaching how to make them. Andromeda, on the other hand, was patient and knowledgeable. She taught Harika several tricks for meditation until it became clear that silence didn't work for her. Andromeda gave her a cassette with nature sounds to help her focus and enter a meditative state.

It took days of practice, but by August—after a brief eighteenth birthday celebration at the Weasleys'—Harika finally managed to delve into her mind. As expected, it was a mess with no defences. Luckily, she had plenty of time to work on it.

"The idea is to build a mental palace with all kinds of defences. The more you have and the more creative they are, the better. Every time you access a memory, it will be like stepping into it," Andromeda explained. "That's why Occlumency is so hard to learn; you must face everything you've experienced—the good and the bad."

"It's going to take me a long time to put everything in order," she groaned with a weary sigh.

"The more you work on your barriers, the less time it will take. That's why it's usually taught to children early on—to make it easier for them to build these mental protections and to help them control their emotions more easily."

"Huh. Is that why so many pureblood children seem… like adults trapped in children's bodies?"

"Exactly," Andromeda laughed. "By adulthood, it’s not as noticeable, but it's evident during adolescence. That said, Occlumency is useful for many things—like memorizing faster, recalling everything you've experienced perfectly, protecting your mind from intrusions, constantly exercising your magic, and regulating mood swings to avoid… irrational behaviours, among other things."

Harika rolled her eyes, realizing once again how many advantages wizards had that they kept quiet about to maintain the status quo. With Occlumency, exams must have been much easier for purebloods, considering they could remember what they studied more easily. She wished someone had told her about it before her fifth year.

Still, she had started learning how to protect her mind, so she made it a habit to meditate every night to work on her mental barriers. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to enter her mind after everything she had suffered at the hands of Voldemort and Snape.

When Hermione and Ron returned from Australia in mid-August, Harika had another appointment with her doctor.

"You're officially scar-free. Congratulations," Dr. Baume confirmed with a smile. They had grown close after so many visits. "You can stop using the ointment."

"And the potions for malnutrition?"

"You've improved tremendously, but you still can't stop taking them," she avoided sighing at Harika's disheartened look, "but they don't make you nauseous anymore, do they?"

"Only occasionally. Now I just get itchy all over."

"That's normal. As for everything else…" she checked her documents. "You've gained weight as planned, and I see you've grown three centimetres."

Harika beamed at the news. She was no longer 159 cm tall—she had reached 162 cm! Incredible!

"Do you think I'll grow any taller?"

"Most likely. By the end of your treatment, you'll need a new wardrobe to avoid showing your ankles," the doctor laughed, glancing at the sliver of skin peeking out above Harika's sneakers.

She smiled again, realizing it was true. She had grown!

Chapter 2: Part I - II

Her reunion with Ron and Hermione was less awkward than expected. With everything she had been doing while they were away, she almost forgot about their absence. She received the owl at Andromeda's house, so she visited them that same day, at the end of August, at the Burrow.

"Harika!" exclaimed Hermione with a smile. "Where are your glasses?"

"I don't need them anymore," she smiled back.

"About time, mate," Ron nudged her. "Have you grown, or is it just me?"

"I went to the doctor, and I'm seeing a therapist."

Hermione seemed surprised but delighted to hear it. She briefly explained what she had been up to—how she hired lawyers who were about to go to trial due to her lawsuits, how she sold Grimmauld Place because she couldn’t stand it and bought a house far away from everyone, how she was improving her mental and emotional health with professional help, and how she planned to take her seventh-year exams at the Ministry.

"Wow. I'm impressed," her friend said, clearly astonished. "A lot has changed since we left, but I'm glad you're doing better."

"I'm glad too, Harika. Though you'll always be the short one of the group."

"Hey! I’m 1.63 meters now! I measured myself just this morning!"

Ron burst out laughing, and Hermione couldn’t hide her smile.

"And what about your parents?"

"..." Hermione sighed heavily. "I managed to reverse the spell, but they've decided to stay there. Apparently, they like it better than the UK."

"Not to mention how furious they were when they remembered everything," Ron whispered conspiratorially, as though Hermione couldn’t hear him. She promptly punched him in the arm. "Ow! Hermione!"

Harika shook her head at the sight of them. She wasn’t surprised her parents were angry, but she was glad they could at least remember Hermione. They talked about their time in Australia and their plans to return to Hogwarts and enrol in the Auror Academy.

"And when are you joining the academy?" Ron asked, munching on a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean. "Are you waiting for your exam results next year?"

"Eh… Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about it," she sighed.

"Really? I thought you wanted to be an Auror."

Harika frowned. She had thought it was her dream, but now she wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t even remembered Kingsley’s offer. She knew, from how well she knew herself, that this meant it wasn’t as important to her as she once believed. So why had she wanted to be an Auror for so long while at Hogwarts, yet now couldn’t even imagine herself working for the Ministry? In the end, she decided to consult Armand about it.

It took exactly one session to realize why she had wanted to become an Auror. Both her father and godfather had been Aurors, and during her entire time at Hogwarts, hunting down "bad guys" had essentially been her unofficial job at the castle. She had taken on that role for so long, since no competent adult seemed to be doing it, that she thought it was what she was supposed to do. Now, after the war, she was faced with a world full of possibilities and realized she didn’t want to risk her neck working as an Auror for the rest of her life. She hadn’t survived the Dursleys, Hogwarts, and a magical war just to die as an Auror, working for a Ministry that was corrupt with or without a war.

The very thought of it made her stomach churn now that she knew what she knew. In fact, when she left her therapy session, she realized she wanted nothing to do with the Ministry. The problem was she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. Armand advised her to get out of the house occasionally and find a hobby besides studying. When Dr. Baume recommended starting moderate exercise, she realized she should join a gym or something similar. That way, she could kill two birds with one stone. However, a hobby was still eluding her.

"Why don’t you try something artistic?" suggested Andromeda one afternoon while they were having tea.

"Like painting? I’m terrible at it."

"Or sculpture, photography, music—whatever. The important thing is to disconnect from your daily routine for a bit."

She thought about it for a while but realized her artistic talents were practically non-existent. She couldn’t draw or play an instrument, nor could she sing unless you considered screeching like a banshee as singing. Still, the idea of photography intrigued her. She ended up signing up for a short photography course in the Muggle world and bought a fairly expensive Muggle camera that the salesperson assured her was top-notch. It took her a few days to get used to applying what she had learned in her one-week course, but what helped her improve the most was simply taking photos and experimenting with the camera's settings.

Restructuring her life was challenging since she had always relied heavily on Hermione's persistent help, but she managed to establish a routine on her own. She started waking up at 7 a.m. every day and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast for an hour. Then, she Apparated to Aberdeen, the nearest big city to where she lived, and went to the gym she had joined. She spent a couple of hours there—one learning to swim and another using the machines. By 10, she was back home, studying for about three hours according to the schedule Andromeda and Hermione had helped her create. After lunch, she rested for a bit, studied for another two hours, and by 5 p.m., she wrapped up her academic routine to focus on her new hobby.

She grabbed her camera and went out. Sometimes, she returned quickly when it was too cold or started pouring rain, but other times, she lost track of time. She was surrounded by nature, and in Unapool, there were only 57 neighbours scattered across the vast region, so she rarely encountered anyone. It was strange to think that she now found herself entirely alone in some corner of the Scottish Highlands and yet felt more at peace with herself than she ever had before.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she had always been surrounded by people who, to varying degrees, wanted something from her or didn’t truly appreciate her. The Dursleys despised her, as did many people in the wizarding world simply because she "killed" Voldemort as a baby or because she didn’t defeat him "sooner" the second time. Others, though not hateful, sought to use her for their own gain. Not to mention the little to no privacy she had while living at Hogwarts. Often, she felt like an ant under a magnifying glass—helpless, exposed, and utterly unprotected. Even during summers with the Weasleys, she never felt the peace she now experienced because there was always someone around. It was... suffocating. She loved the Weasleys, but she longed for just a little breathing room to feel free and stop being everyone’s puppet. After all, solitude had been her closest companion during her time with the Dursleys on Privet Drive.

"I hope you’re not cooped up at home all day," Ron commented one day in September when they met up in the Muggle world. "You know what Hermione would say."

"Actually, I go out several times a day."

"Really?" Ron asked, surprised. "Good for you."

"Yeah. I spent so much time stuck at the Dursleys’ house that now, with the freedom to do whatever I want, I’m making the most of it."

"Can’t blame you..." Ron muttered something unintelligible about her "relatives."

"And how’s your training going?"

"Good. It’s harder than I thought. There’s more protocol than it seems."

They talked for a while. He told her how Ginny had decided to become a professional Quidditch player, how Percy had returned to his old position at the Ministry, how Bill and Fleur had resumed their work at Gringotts, and how Charlie was still in Romania with his dragons.

"And George?" she finally asked. Ron sighed, his expression sombre. "Is he okay?"

"He’s… He’s managing. We’ve gotten him to come out of his room more often, but sometimes, at night, he still cries, and I can hear him. Honestly, Harika, I don’t know how to help him. My mum doesn’t want him to go back to the flat he shared with Fred, and the shop they started together is still closed. I don’t know what’s going to happen with all of it."

Harika was startled to realize that George, while staying at his parents’ house, must be living in his old room—the same one he had shared with Fred. Her stomach churned for the umpteenth time just thinking about it. Looking at it that way, it was obvious why George wasn’t improving. Everything reminded him of his late twin brother. Even his job had been shared with Fred. Then, she had a great idea.

"Why doesn’t he come live with me, Ron?"

"What? Who? George?" Ron seemed a bit dumbfounded at first but then thought about it seriously. "Actually… that might be exactly what he needs. Getting away from all the memories of Fred but still having a friend around."

"Why don’t you come too? You’re living at your parents’ house, right?" she added. "You could both move in with me temporarily. I was thinking of offering it at Christmas, seeing as Hermione’s parents are still in Australia and I’ve got four bedrooms, but given the circumstances…"

"Are you sure you wouldn’t mind us living with you?"

"No. The house is fully paid for, and I don’t have any bills since it’s a magical house. The only expense is food, which we can split between us," she said, pre-empting Ron before he could say anything about “charity.” "This way, you can save more from the little they pay you as a recruit, Hermione would have a place to stay without the stress of living with your family—no offense—and George could recover without everything reminding him of Fred."

"I’ll need to talk to Hermione, but I’m 99% sure she’ll say yes. Actually, we talked about moving in together this summer, but since she won’t start working for a while and I don’t earn enough to buy or rent a place, we had to drop it."

They finished their conversation shortly after that. Ron seemed far more relieved than before, especially after she assured him she genuinely didn’t mind them moving in. The house was fully renovated and had plenty of space. There was a dining room separate from the kitchen, two living rooms—one with a fireplace and another with glass walls she had turned into her study. On the ground floor, there was a bedroom, a full bathroom, a study she didn’t use, and a small laundry room, likely where house-elves would have slept. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms and a small library with a balcony overlooking the lake. Her own room had a similar terrace. Outside, there was a sizable shed, now empty. Space was definitely not an issue.

"I’m sure getting a change of scenery will do George a world of good. It’s a great idea," praised Armand. "Though he might also need psychological help. This wasn’t a natural death—it was the result of the war."

"I’ll mention it to Ron, see what he thinks. Maybe we can convince George to at least give therapy a try and then decide."

By October, a week after her meeting with Ron in the Muggle world, Harika visited Hogsmeade to meet Ron and Hermione. Being of age, they could leave the castle as they pleased, provided they returned before the extended 11 PM curfew for eighth-year students.

"Ron told me about it in his letter, but I wanted to talk to you face-to-face," Hermione said as they sat in the Three Broomsticks. Since it wasn’t an official Hogsmeade weekend, several tables were empty. "Are you absolutely sure you don’t mind?"

"Of course not," Harika rolled her eyes. "I literally have three empty bedrooms. Plus, there’s a shed gathering dust. If George feels up to it eventually, he could use it for his inventions away from the house. Do you want to see the place?"

"Now?" Hermione asked, glancing at Ron, who shrugged.

"It’s not like we have anything better to do," Harika shrugged back.

"Alright."

Any doubts Hermione might have had about moving in vanished the moment she saw the house and its view of the lake surrounded by mountains and forests. When she saw the small library with its private terrace and those breath-taking views, she nearly burst into tears.

"Which room would be ours?"

"This one here," Harika said, showing them the spacious upstairs bedroom next to the library. "It has a full en-suite bathroom, and Hermione could set up a desk by the window to study with a lake view."

"It’s amazing."

"The downstairs room will be George’s. It doesn’t have an en-suite, but we can make sure the bathroom next to it is for him only."

"Of course."

"When should we talk to George?" Harika asked Ron, knowing he hadn’t mentioned it to his brother yet.

"We could go now, if you want."

"Alright."

"Is your fireplace connected?"

"No."

"Then we’ll meet you there."

The conversation with George was brief. When they presented the idea to him, he froze for a moment before saying he needed time to think. Then he disappeared into his room, leaving the three of them alone in Ron’s old room.

Mrs. Weasley, upon learning that Ron, Hermione, and possibly George would be moving out in a few days, nearly cried. After all, no one else was left at the Burrow except Ginny and Arthur.

"We’re not moving to the other side of the world, just to Scotland," Ron rolled his eyes. "Besides, it’s about time I start being independent—even if it’s with Harika’s help."

"But are you sure you’ll be alright?"

"If we managed to survive a year on the run with a tent, I think we can handle living in a house," Ron sighed in exasperation.

Soon after, Molly came around. The only one who didn’t seem thrilled with the idea of being left alone with her parents was Ginny. However, Harika wasn’t inclined to open her house to half the world. George just needed a push—and therapy—to get back on track. He’d return to his old flat eventually; Harika was sure of it. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione only needed to save money for nine months after Hogwarts to afford a place of their own. By then, Ron would earn more if he completed Auror training, and they’d no longer have to stay at her house. Besides, Hermione still lived at Hogwarts except during holidays, so she’d really only be living with two people—one of whom worked eight-hour shifts away from home.

A couple of days later, George agreed to move in with her and the others for a while. He packed his things, leaving Fred’s belongings in his old room, and quickly settled into the room she had assigned him. Ron, with Hermione’s help the following weekend, adjusted their shared room to their liking and organized their belongings in the wardrobes.

"I can’t believe how different it feels to live away from my parents," Ron sighed a few days after moving in permanently. "I love them, but Mum can be… stressful sometimes."

The three of them were sitting at the picnic table in the backyard, watching the sunset over the lake. No one else could be heard but them and the animals in the area.

"I think I’ll go to that therapist you mentioned," George said unexpectedly, his expression melancholy and a bit pale. "I’ve seen how much it’s helped you, and… I don’t want to feel like this anymore. At least I want to learn how to cope with my loss."

Ron said nothing, afraid of ruining the moment and making George change his mind, but Harika saw the hope and joy on his face, realizing his brother wanted to heal.

Thus, George started therapy with Armand once a week, while Harika’s sessions were reduced to one per week. Hermione, still at Hogwarts full-time, continued sending her notes and assignments so she could study remotely. Once a week, Andromeda tested Harika to ensure she was keeping up with her studies and used the visits as an opportunity to see Teddy.

Gradually, Ron and George adjusted to their new routines. George even joined Harika at the gym every morning. Everyone knew it was a distraction, but since it seemed to help him improve both physically and mentally, no one said otherwise. Life wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was steadily improving.

Chapter 3: Part I - III

When November arrived, George seemed to have improved significantly thanks to therapy. He no longer hid in his room as much, nor did he spend hours sitting in the garden staring into the distance. He started using the shed to create who-knew-what. Ron nearly cried when they heard the first explosion in months.

"I swear I thought it would take years for him to recover."

"Without help, maybe."

"As awful as it sounds, I’m glad my mother doesn’t know where we are and can’t visit us. If she did, she’d be here every other day, and I know George gets stressed when she’s constantly hovering over him."

"That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything," she smiled mischievously.

That, and because she didn’t want her new and wonderful private home to turn into a hotel reception. A part of her would have preferred to be alone, even though that would have meant Ron and George were still living with their parents. She had only offered them her home because they were her friends, and she knew they were truly suffering. Still, she resented having to share her space again.

"You had gotten used to having your own space, a refuge just for yourself, and now it’s being invaded again," Armand nodded. "I think you’ve realized that it weighs on you less than before because you were the one who offered your home. No one showed up uninvited, trampling over your boundaries."

"You’re right. Besides, I know it’s only temporary, but this has made me realize something… I need time alone with myself. One, maybe two years, where my space is just mine."

"And you’ll have it. It’s just a matter of deciding to be alone. No one can force you to live with someone or intrude on your home without your permission."

Just hearing it made her relax. He was right. She had opened the doors of her home, and she could also close them whenever she wanted. She wasn’t going to, obviously, but she knew that once everyone was okay, she wouldn’t share her home again until she found someone special she truly wanted to share it with.

At her usual biweekly appointment, the doctor examined her again.

"You’re progressing faster than expected with the treatment. It’s clear that physical exercise and some relaxation time have done you good," Dr. Baume smiled. "Your anaemia is gone, your vitamin D deficiency too, you’ve overcome malnutrition, and you’ve even grown eight centimetres since you started treatment. How do you feel?"

"So much better. I can tell I have more endurance and flexibility. Even my hair seems a lot less frizzy."

"Stress can affect your scalp and hair, you know? In any case, you can stop taking the potions for malnutrition and decalcification. The only thing left to treat is your nerves. Do your hands still tremble sometimes, or do you feel tingling in your fingers or limbs?"

"Sometimes. Mostly tingling in my fingertips."

"As expected. The Cruciatus Curse isn’t called unforgivable for nothing. Still, I imagine in a month, maybe a month and a half, you’ll be completely healed."

"From everything?"

"From everything."

Harika had to hold back tears of relief and happiness. After so long… she was finally about to recover. She had been vaccinated, her menstrual cycle was back to normal, she had treated her vision, and she had rid herself of scars and malnutrition, along with all its side effects. She had gained both weight and muscle by going to the gym, and now she was even 1.67 meters tall. She couldn’t believe it. For years, the Dursleys had tried to kill her passively. They hadn’t succeeded, but her health had never been comparable to Hermione’s or anyone else’s. It gave her immense satisfaction to know that, despite everything, she had managed to reverse the physical and mental damage inflicted by the Dursleys—whom she never planned to see again.

The first person to hear that she was in the final stretch of her treatment was Andromeda.

"Congratulations, Harika! I knew you’d make it," Andromeda smiled, giving her a strong hug. "I’m so happy you’ll be putting all of this behind you soon."

"And so am I. You have no idea how much," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Every time I think about the past, it feels like another life."

"Your life has changed drastically in just five months. So many radical changes—it’s no surprise you feel a little strange. Who would have told you six months ago that you’d be nearly 1.70 meters tall now, or that you’d have learned to swim, or that you’d have a completely Muggle hobby?"

"I know. It’s crazy."

"And to think you once said you weren’t good at the arts," Andromeda smiled, picking up one of the first photographs Harika had taken near her home in the Scottish Highlands.

"Did you know I bought some books to improve my photography? I’ve been trying out a few techniques. I’d love to see more places to photograph new things."

"Then why don’t you? It’s not like anyone is stopping you," Andromeda shrugged. "You have time, you’re young, and you know how to protect yourself. You could travel around Europe if you wanted."

"Don’t you think it would be dangerous? Not all Death Eaters have been captured."

"I know, but what’s stopping you from tweaking your appearance a little so they don’t recognize you? In fact, I thought you were already doing that to avoid being chased by your fans."

"Fans?" she asked in horror. "What do you mean?"

"Haven’t you read the letters people send you here?" Andromeda asked, confused.

"Yes! But I thought it would stop!"

The truth was, Harika hadn’t been replying to any letters. The people who donated to her did so directly through Gringotts, so she didn’t know who they were. Many preferred to remain anonymous for various reasons. The letters from people thanking her for what she had done—she simply read them but didn’t reply. She had no time or interest in writing handwritten responses to every person. And she didn’t even own an owl. As for the letters from people who wished her ill or sent cursed mail, she handed those over to her lawyers to deal with, pressing charges against them. She had even received a couple of marriage proposals, which she burned—just in case.

After the trial in early September, where many people had to publicly apologize to her, retract publications, stop manufacturing products with her image, remove books with her name from stores, and pay her hefty fines, few dared to go against her. Now that she had a legal team working to protect her… idiots thought twice before trying anything. Especially after her lawyers hired a team of investigators to track down the criminals sending her cursed mail. Saying she was delighted to have hired a competent law firm would be an understatement.

The funny thing was, many people had gone bankrupt after using her name for years without permission. She honestly didn’t care. They should have thought about it years ago or contacted her as soon as she set foot in Hogwarts. If they had, she might have agreed to let them use her image in exchange for a percentage. All the gold they returned to her—quadrupling her fortune—was turned into gold bars, protected under countless spells, and stored in a magical trunk that only she could open with a Parseltongue password, a drop of blood, and a touch of her magic. Yes, she had become very paranoid.

"I suppose spending so much time in the forest, being chased by Voldemort’s idiots, had to take a toll," George joked tiredly when he saw that everything she withdrew from Gringotts, along with her belongings—even her fortune chest—was always stored in her bottomless bag, which she had learned to summon without her wand after countless attempts.

"Considering I spent years without a home of my own and the last few months running around with nothing but the clothes on my back, I don’t want to be caught off guard."

"Caught off guard by what?"

"Anything," she shrugged.

"Could you convert part of your fortune into Muggle money?" said George.

"Muggle money is just paper. It has no value like gold."

It was clear that this was the last thing she planned to do. Andromeda was the one who occasionally exchanged some of his gold for Muggle money since everyone knew that if she showed up at the bank, they would give her much less than it was worth simply because of who she was. Yes, it was “arranged,” but the goblins would never forget what she had done for as long as she lived.

By the time November arrived, she decided to spread her wings a little and start traveling to new places. As soon as she mentioned it to her friends and Andromeda, they all raised their voices in protest when they realized she didn’t have a solid plan.

"But where will you stay while taking photographs in the wilderness?"

"And how will you travel? Do you have your Muggle identification?" asked Hermione.

"Besides, I can see your ankles with those pants. They’ve gotten too small for you," Andromeda told her. "You’ll have to renew your entire wardrobe before going anywhere."

Harika groaned as she realized she was about to be dragged from store to store, just as Petunia had done with Dudley while she silently watched, buying far too many things. And indeed, that was exactly what happened. First, Andromeda took her to the Muggle world, where, accompanied by Hermione, they bought her everything a person could need for summer, winter, or in-between seasons. From loungewear to casual clothes, sportswear, outfits for going out, and more. She spent far more than she had expected. And as if that weren’t enough, they then dragged her to the magical world in Paris so she could shop discreetly.

Having never set foot in the magical part of France before, she was in awe of what she saw. It was so different and so grand compared to the UK that Diagon Alley seemed almost mediocre in comparison.

"And in this colour," Andromeda told the seamstress. "What do you think, Harika?"

She observed the different coloured fabrics Andromeda was showing her and nodded. She wasn’t a complete disaster, but she wasn’t the most fashion-savvy person either. The various magical shoes, jackets, and a few dresses and robes Andromeda picked out seemed fine to her. Honestly, she wondered when she would even wear all of it. She had to convince Andromeda that she didn’t need so many witch hats—she hadn’t worn her Hogwarts hat in eight years, and she wasn’t about to start now. Despite everything, she was going to return home with so many clothes that she’d have to magically expand her wardrobe.

"When was the last time you cut your hair?" asked Hermione, browsing the shops ahead of them. "There's a hair salon over there. I wouldn't mind stopping in for a trim myself."

"Now that you mention it, Hermione, I wouldn’t mind either," said Andromeda, touching her long hair. "It’s been almost a year since I last cut it."

Harika said nothing when she realized why. The truth was, getting a professional haircut wouldn’t be a bad idea. The last time her hair had been cut—years ago—it had been an accident at the hands of Petunia. Naturally, it hadn’t worked, since her hair had grown back overnight, but the trauma had lingered for a while. At Hogwarts, she had gotten used to wearing her hair in a ponytail or various braids just to avoid having to deal with it. Not only did it frizz up whenever she brushed it, but it tangled easily and was always messy. In fact, she couldn’t recall a single day at school when she had worn her hair loose.

When she explained this to the hairdresser, the woman shook her head in horror.

"Curly hair cannot be brushed like straight hair. Never!" she scolded. "If you use a normal brush, all you’ll do is make it frizz."

"So, what should I do?" she asked. She had no idea about any of this, but if it was true, it explained a lot.

"For starters, we’ll trim your hair in a way that flatters both your face and your curls."

"The last time my hair was cut, it grew back overnight," she warned. "I don’t know if this is a good idea."

"Really?" asked Hermione. Andromeda looked up from her magical magazine in astonishment.

"Maybe you inherited a trace of the Black family's Metamorphmagus abilities," Andromeda mused. "Now that I think about it… You’re always the same shade of pale, no matter how long you spend in the sun."

"And I’ve never seen your hair grow longer or shorter," Hermione admitted. "It’s always waist-length."

"Even so," the hairdresser interjected, "I’ll give you a cut that lightens your hair and enhances your features. How about I keep the length the same?"

"That’s fine."

The hairdresser started with a moisturizing and anti-frizz treatment before trimming her hair here and there. Harika wasn’t sure what she was doing since the length remained the same, aside from the split ends she removed. By the time she was done, her hair no longer resembled a curtain hanging on either side of her face. Instead, it had shorter layers framing her features, and it had more volume. Even her facial structure appeared less elongated, revealing an oval-shaped face. Not to mention she now had some bangs—shorter strands on either side of her face that suited her perfectly. She hadn’t even realized her hair had curls, and now she saw that it did—beautifully so.

"I love it!" she said after examining herself in the mirror.

"If you’d like, you can buy our shampoo and conditioner. These are the ones I used on you today."

Harika left with a new hairstyle and plenty of hair care products. Not even the shopping that followed could dampen her spirits.

"Look," Hermione said, nodding toward something. "Maybe you should get one."

Harika turned to see what she meant. She barely suppressed a groan. "A magical tent, Hermione? I’m sick of magical tents."

"I know, but if you’re going to travel and photograph nature, don’t expect to always find a hotel or a comfortable place to stay," her friend pointed out with her usual infuriating logic. "Unless you prefer a Muggle tent and a portable toilet."

"Ugh. Why do you always have to be right?" Harika sighed.

"Besides, you can get a bigger tent—one that suits your needs," Andromeda consoled her. "It’ll be more expensive, but they last a lifetime. Think of it as an investment."

What convinced her most was realizing that some of these tents were the size of a house. It was incredible what magic could do. Inside one of them, she didn’t feel as claustrophobic as she had in the past. She spent 1,000 Galleons on a two-story tent with three bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, a study/library upstairs, and downstairs, an extra bathroom, a kitchen with a pantry, a medium-sized living room, and a small laundry area. It was literally like her house—only smaller.

"Now this is camping in style," she told Hermione, who nearly had a heart attack at the price.

"At least this way, you won’t have to spend money on hotels while traveling."

Shortly afterward, they returned home, exhausted but happy with their purchases. Her Muggle identification papers had to be arranged by her lawyers since, thanks to the Dursleys, she had no valid documentation. It took a week to get a birth certificate, an ID card, a passport, and everything else she needed. She wasn’t planning on using Muggle transportation, but it was always good to have everything in order.

"You should open an international Muggle bank account and get a debit card," Hermione suggested. "That way, you wouldn’t have to carry so much cash and could pay more easily in different countries."

"Is that what your parents did?"

"Of course, and it’s what I did when I went to Australia."

The first time she travelled outside the country was the first weekend of November. Her idea was to visit the capitals of European countries every weekend, whenever she felt like it, take pictures of everything that caught her attention, and sleep in a tent in one of the national parks. As soon as she set foot in Dublin for the first time, using a Portkey she had bought at a magical travel shop, she couldn't help but smile. She spent both days exploring and taking photos. Being alone, visiting another country, was something she had never imagined, yet she loved it.

She felt nervous, excited, happy... It was a whirlwind of emotions she wasn't used to feeling so frequently. Her visits to the psychologist had made her realize that a part of her always thought things were going to go wrong because that had always been her experience. It had always been like that—until now. She didn’t know how or when, but she had started learning to stand up for herself, something she had never done before. At Hogwarts and with the Dursleys, she had let them walk all over her out of ignorance and because she didn't want to destabilize her already precarious situation. What would have happened if, instead of keeping quiet, she had told people what she really thought sometimes? What if she had complained or reported the abuse she suffered at the hands of the Dursleys? If she had left Privet Drive instead of lowering her head and nodding when Dumbledore told her she had to live with the Dursleys every summer?

Now, looking back, she couldn’t imagine herself accepting that kind of treatment from anyone—not even her own friends. Therapy had helped her discover her own worth, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take advantage of her again. She intended to stand up for herself and her interests by any means necessary. That was why a simple trip to another country, even if only for two days, had been a turning point. Many people expected her to work at the Ministry, or return to Hogwarts, or stay in the country, or not complain about the things published about her in the newspapers. It had taken her 18 years to realize that she could tell them all to go to hell because now, they had no authority over her. She had done it. She was free.

Coming to that conclusion made her cry. She cried with rage because it had taken her so long to be free, she cried with resentment because no one had helped her get there, she cried with relief because now no one could treat her like a puppet, and she cried with happiness because she had her whole life ahead of her to live as she pleased.

"You’re realizing many things you hadn’t thought about before, or didn’t want to think about, and that stirs up old traumas," said Armand in another of their sessions. "It’s normal. Are you still practicing Occlumency?"

"Every night."

"Keep at it. It’s helping you a lot in regulating your emotions."

Harika nodded. The truth was, Occlumency was a very difficult art to learn. Not only because meditating was complicated considering the stress people felt in a modern society trying to fit in, but because it forced her to relive every memory. She started remembering things she thought she had forgotten, and most of them were not good experiences—especially those involving the Dursleys. Even so, her former mental pigsty was gone. She had created a replica of her home in her mind, where she gradually stored her memories, hiding them in cabinets and drawers. She still had a lot of memories to organize, but at least her mental house was protected by every type of Muggle and magical barrier she knew.

By the time December arrived, Dr. Baume officially discharged her, declaring her fully treated for all her ailments. To celebrate, Andromeda invited her over and prepared a cake with tea. Teddy, lying in his basket beside her, was awake but entertained with the magical musical toys they had bought him.

"Who would have thought how much you've changed in such a short time, right?" sighed Andromeda, somewhat nostalgic, observing her modern Muggle-style clothing combined with her black dragon-hide boots with laces and her silky, shiny curly hair. "If Sirius could see you… He’d be so happy with what you’ve achieved."

"I know. That makes me try even harder to succeed," she admitted.

"How are your studies going?"

"They’re going well. Hermione helps me a lot. Since I keep up with her pace, I know I’m not falling behind."

"That’s a good idea."

"By the way, Hermione told me that starting in January, they’ll be offering an extracurricular course for those who want to become Animagi."

"I know. McGonagall has been offering it for years to seventh-year students," Andromeda smiled. "Are you interested?"

"Actually, yes. Both Sirius and my father were Animagi, so I’d like to try."

"Then, if I were you, I’d start preparing the potion now. The Hogwarts students who attempt to become Animagi usually spend all of December letting it ferment before beginning the transformation stage."

"Is there a book about the process?"

"Yes. In the books you took from Grimmauld Place, or from Sirius’s belongings, you should find one called The Animagus Guide. I think that’s the one he used—or at least, that’s what he told Nymphadora."

So, what did she do for hours when she got home? She searched for that damn book. She carefully read through the steps, realizing that the entire process was long and tedious. To begin with, she needed a mandrake leaf that she had to keep in her mouth for an entire month, from full moon to full moon. The next full moon was in six days, so she decided to go for it. Luckily, the other ingredients, the moth chrysalis and the dew water, could be bought at the apothecary since they didn’t require her to collect them herself.

However, if she lost or swallowed the mandrake leaf, she would have to start over. Her father’s and godfather’s book, though, was a gold mine. The margins were filled with dozens of notes to make the process easier, like casting a permanent sticking charm to keep the leaf attached to her palate so she wouldn’t have to worry about it, or brewing the potion somewhere in the north where thunderstorms were frequent—like her home.

"Are you seriously going to do it?" Ron asked after hearing her talk about everything she needed.

"Why not? I might not succeed on the first try, but imagine if I do."

"Ugh. I think I’ll pass, mate. With my luck, I’d turn into something stupid like a salmon or an anteater."

Harika and George snorted with laughter at that. George didn’t seem very interested in trying either, though a part of her thought that if Fred had been there with them, he and George would have been the first to volunteer.

"I’m going to reopen the shop," George suddenly said. Ron and Harika fell silent. "I’ve been thinking about it… and I think it’s what Fred would have wanted. Besides, I don’t want all our hard work to go to waste, you know?"

"You’ve been paying the shop’s rent all this time, haven’t you?"

"Yeah. It’s time to go back."

Harika didn’t ask about the apartment he had shared with Fred, but Ron, when George went to bed, told her that their parents had taken all of Fred’s things from the flat and stored them temporarily in one of their empty rooms.

"Apparently, he stopped paying for the place a couple of months ago," Ron said in a low voice. "He couldn’t bring himself to go back and see Fred’s things there."

"Honestly, maybe it’s better if he moves somewhere else…"

After Christmas, George fully reopened the joke shop and found a flat near the Leaky Cauldron to move into. From what she heard from Ron and Ginny, he continued visiting Armand, even though he had regained some control over his life. Harika was truly glad he was doing better.

Chapter 4: Part I - IV

To her surprise—and Ron’s—she managed to complete the initial stage of the Animagus process on her first try at the end of January.

"Sincerely, I thought you wouldn’t be able to finish the potion," Ron said, tactlessly. She smacked him on the back of the head.

"Hey! I’m just being honest!"

"It’s not like thunderstorms are uncommon here in northern Scotland."

"No, I didn’t mean because of the storm. I meant because you actually did the potion right."

Harika punched him again. She had improved a lot in Potions without Snape! She had to drink it as soon as possible, so with Ron as a witness, she swallowed the disgusting, blood-colored potion. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at her heart, just as she had been doing since she started the process.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

She felt a sharp pain in her chest that quickly turned into an intense ache, just as she felt the double heartbeats within her again. They were so strong she thought she had two hearts. She let out a cry of pain that morphed into a high-pitched squawk. Slowly, she began to lose height. Her body shifted under Ron’s watchful, surprised, and slightly fearful gaze. When the transformation was complete, she realized her form wasn’t as small as she had imagined. Looking down, she saw—stunned and delighted—that her feathers were mostly white, with some dark gray and black ones. She noticed the magnificent black talons on her strong, sturdy orange legs.

"Uh… Harika? Are you in there?" Ron asked, startling her. "You’re gonna love this. Wait here while I get your camera."

Ron ran inside the house. He took a few pictures without really knowing what he was doing, but she thanked him with another squawk. He conjured a mirror in front of her so she could see herself. She startled again at her own reflection. She was a massive bird, one she had never seen before. White was the dominant color, followed by dark gray and black. Her eyes, of course, were green, and her orange legs had sharp black talons larger than Ron’s hand. Her curved beak made her think she might be some kind of eagle. The feathers on her head stood up slightly like a collar, except for a couple that stuck out vertically in a messy way, colored in a lighter gray. To be honest, her fierce appearance scared her a little.

"Merlin… You’re huge! I’ve never seen a Muggle bird this big. What are you supposed to be? I wish Hermione were here," Ron said aloud. "Can you fly?"

Harika tried but was completely uncoordinated after the transformation. Walking was easy, so she practiced that first, then tried flapping her wings. It was a strange sensation since they didn’t work like her human limbs. It took her a long time to get used to them—to Ron’s great amusement. Her first flight attempt was pathetic. She barely lifted off the ground before crashing onto the picnic table bench. Ron was doubled over with laughter as he watched her struggle, but Harika was determined. She could fly without a broom! It was incredible!

"WOOOOOOOOO!" she shouted when she finally managed to soar over the lake without falling.

She looked at her reflection in the water with excitement and joy. Some birds scattered in fear at her sharp, crystalline cry. She felt like the queen of the sky. She spotted Ron from afar, on the other side of the lake, as if she had binoculars for eyes. It was amazing.

"I can’t believe you got it right on the first try," Hermione said when she visited that weekend and Ron showed her the pictures. "I’m still waiting for a thunderstorm to happen."

"What do you think she is?" Ron asked. "Looks like some kind of eagle."

"I think she’s a harpy eagle. Let me check."

Ron snorted with laughter at that, while Harika just rolled her eyes. Hermione returned with a Muggle animal encyclopedia. It only took her three minutes to confirm her guess. She showed them a small printed picture and let Harika read the eagle’s characteristics. Harika was stunned to learn that its talons were the same size as a bear’s, measuring 15 centimeters.

"You’re not going to blend in very well," Hermione commented. "They’re not common in Europe."

"I don’t care. I can fly, Hermione! Fly!"

"I knew that’s all you’d care about," her friend laughed. "You’ll have to register with the Ministry."

"Ugh. Seriously?"

"Yes, unless you want to go to Azkaban."

"I don’t know if I should. As soon as I register, everyone will know my form."

"You should talk to your lawyers to ensure the Ministry respects your privacy with a confidentiality agreement."

By March, her lawyers had managed to get her registered without causing a stir, using confidentiality contracts just as Hermione had suggested. She had already visited Paris, Madrid, and Lisbon, but since her final exams were approaching, she decided to slow down on traveling for a while. She also finally read those introductory books on the magical world that she had never bothered with before, feeling like an idiot for not asking Hermione for them earlier. Now, she understood a lot more than before. In her spare time, she started reading about Metamorphmagus abilities, though she wasn’t sure if she had a trace of the gift or if her magic was just acting weird.

By April, Teddy turned one, and Hermione returned home for spring break.

"I finally did it!" she told them with a big smile. "I transformed!"

"Really?" Ron grinned. "What are you?"

"You won’t believe it… I’m an otter."

"Like your Patronus?" Harika asked in surprise. "Can we see?"

Hermione transformed after a few seconds. As soon as Harika saw her, so small and adorable, she had to suppress a squeal before picking her up. She heard Hermione’s high-pitched chirps as both she and Ron stroked her head.

"Isn’t she adorable?"

"Way more than you, for sure," Ron commented.

"Hey!"

"What? It’s true! Every time you transform and look at me, it feels like you want to eat me!"

"That’s just my face, you idiot!"

Hermione returned to her human form, beaming. Soon after, the final stretch before exams began. Harika kept going to the gym to keep from losing her mind but visited Andromeda less and went on fewer photography excursions. She had upgraded her camera with all sorts of Muggle and magical gadgets. The only one who didn’t seem stressed about exams was Ron, who was making great progress in his Auror training.

When exam time came, after locking herself at home to revise, practice potions, and perfect spells, she arrived at the Ministry along with far more people than expected. Most of them were Slytherins her age, whom she avoided. She had enough to worry about without having to look at Pansy Parkinson’s stupid face. For a whole week, she took exam after exam until she thought her brain would melt from so much writing and thinking.

"But you’re finally done!" Ron said on Friday when he greeted her with a huge smile. "We have to celebrate!"

"Maybe tomorrow. I’m exhausted."

They met up with Hermione and the rest in Hogsmeade. It wasn’t the first time they had gathered in the village, but it was the first time they were all together. Harika looked at the castle in the distance, feeling much less sadness than she had a year ago. Maybe because it was fully restored now, or maybe because she had healed enough to not break down in tears.

"So, what are you all planning to do now?" Seamus asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Professor Sprout offered me a Mastery program with her at Hogwarts," Neville said, blushing as his friends congratulated him.

"I’m going to join a Quidditch club."

She listened as everyone shared their future plans, having no idea what she wanted to do. To her surprise, Luna had a proposal for her.

"Mr. Scamander has accepted my request to teach me Magizoology," Luna began. "He has the resources for a new worldwide research expedition, but he needs a photographer to capture the new discoveries. I showed him some of your photos, and he really liked them. He wants to offer you the position if you're interested."

"Really?" she asked, astonished. "But how long would this… tour last?"

"At least a year. Maybe a year and a half."

Harika blinked. This had definitely caught her off guard. She didn't know what to say until Hermione smiled and said:

"Well, luckily, you already have a tent, don't you?"

"That's right!" Ron laughed. "And this one has nothing to do with the other one!"

Hearing her friends assume she would accept made her wonder why she wouldn’t. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, considering she didn’t want to work at the Ministry or as a professional Quidditch player. At least she’d be earning money while traveling the world—something she had wanted to do anyway—and she could figure out what to do with her life once Luna’s apprenticeship was over. The more she thought about it, the more excited she was to accept the offer.

Of course, she ended up saying yes. Hermione was also accepted into the Ministry due to her impeccable qualifications. Harika also got very good grades, though nothing compared to her friend’s. So, when July arrived, Hermione and Ron moved from her house to a Muggle apartment far from the capital, which they could comfortably afford with their combined salaries.

The expedition, set to begin in August, would depart from London. Harika had already met her companions: Newton Scamander and his wife, Tina, as well as their assistants, Alfred and Lenora. Their grandson, Rolf, who, like Luna, was also studying under Newt’s tutelage, would be joining them as well.

"Let’s begin this adventure, ladies and gentlemen!" Newt grinned as they toasted the night before their departure.

Harika and Luna had already said their goodbyes to all their friends. Harika had also locked up her house in Unapool, converted some gold into Muggle money, and packed all her belongings into her bottomless backpack. The last thing she wanted was to leave her fortune gathering dust in her house—or all the ancient and highly valuable magical books she had inherited from the Blacks and bought with her own money. Surely, she could use them in her free time to see if something caught her interest. After all, once this job was over, she’d need to figure out what to do next, right?

"It wouldn't be a bad idea to buy potion ingredients. You never know when you’ll need a potion," Hermione advised, tossing ingredients into the shopping basket as if there were no tomorrow. "Especially you."

"Hey!" she protested, slightly indignant. Hermione ignored her.

"And, most importantly, considering you’re going in search of dangerous magical creatures."

"I got it."

That’s how she ended up buying a portable apothecary with runes and spells to preserve a variety of ingredients. Harika didn’t think she would need them, but if Hermione, Andromeda, and Molly felt more at ease knowing she had them, who was she to argue? Obviously, besides already prepared potions and ingredients in case she ran out, she also carried an immense amount of clothing, books, and new magical supplies.

"Actually, your friend is absolutely right. That’s exactly what we carry, you know?" Lenora said one of the first nights when she overheard her talking about it with Luna. "You never know what you might encounter in the wild."

"Very true. You should review books on magical barriers to protect your tent while you sleep."

Alfred handed her a rather worn copy of a book, which she ended up skimming through that week. After listening to the experts, she decided to take their advice and start studying a few things… for her own safety. Luna, who had her own tent, already had some experience thanks to her travels with her father, so she advised her to read a couple more books on survival and spells that any magical traveller needed, such as a translation spell or an enchantment to determine whether a Muggle plant was edible.

"You have no idea how many times I’ve used these spells with Dad. Even more than magical barriers."

Harika, who hadn’t even considered that they might travel to places where English wasn’t spoken, felt rather embarrassed for not having thought of it. Since their journey began in China, she decided to start practicing translation spells. There were several. The simplest one allowed her to hear the translation in her own language but didn’t let her speak or read it. Another, more complex spell, would allow her to assimilate the language and learn it as long as people spoke to her in Chinese repeatedly. At first, she wouldn’t understand anything, but within a few weeks, she would have learned the language at the cost of a daily headache. However, these spells didn’t work for reading texts in another language.

"There’s an old enchantment that allows you to learn the written language," Rolf whispered, winking at her. "It’s illegal in the UK, but not in all countries."

"And where can I find this enchantment?"

"If I were you, I’d try this book."

Rolf handed both Luna and her a copy of a book on illegal enchantments. She quickly understood why it was illegal. First, if performed incorrectly, it could cause a stroke in the user. And second, if anyone could use the spell, language academies would cease to exist, so they had lobbied to ban it under the excuse that it was extremely dangerous. Was it dangerous? Yes. Was she going to try it? Also yes.

She bought an encyclopedia in Chinese and cast the spell. She quickly realized why so few people used it. Chinese, for starters, was not a language lacking in vocabulary. Adding to that the fact that it was completely different from English… The migraine she got that Saturday left her bedridden, unable to get up due to nausea and a pounding headache.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice her colossal mistake, and when she got up the next day, the third Sunday since they had started the expedition, she realized she could read the encyclopaedia and understand it perfectly. Another week of listening to Chinese while photographing the re’em, and she had finally learned the written and spoken language. She promised herself she wouldn’t learn another complex language this way for a very long time.

Fortunately, they spent a few weeks in China, so she practiced her new language at markets while buying plenty of potion ingredients that didn’t exist in Diagon Alley, as well as gifts for her friends, which she sent through a private owl service.

When they finished in China, they travelled through Russia. They spent an entire month crossing the vast country, so she used the illegal spell again to learn the language. She wouldn’t wish the migraine she got on anyone, but she recovered much faster. What was one day in bed wishing for death in exchange for learning a language that would take years to master?

"You study Occlumency?" Tina asked when she stepped out of her tent and heard her telling Luna that she was feeling much better than the last time.

"Yes, why?"

"Because Occlumency makes it much easier to learn languages with this spell," she admitted. "My sister is a natural Legilimens, so for years, I learned Occlumency to have some semblance of privacy whenever I was near her. When I started doing these tours with Newt and used the spells, I realized that once the mind knows where to store knowledge thanks to Occlumency, it becomes easier to learn new languages."

Harika considered it silently. It made a lot of sense, to be honest. She cast a spell against the scorching sun while watching her friend and the others crouched behind some bushes, spying on a creature. It was the last day studying that animal, so she had already taken every possible photograph. Tina, beside her, wasn’t as interested in Magizoology as her husband, so after a couple of days observing the creatures, she seemed a bit bored.

"Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband dearly, but I have no interest in spending ten hours studying the defecations of one creature or another," Tina said with the brutal honesty of older people. Harika let out a small laugh. "And I don’t think you do either."

"Not really. I’m not very interested, but I wanted to travel, and this job gives me plenty of free time to study and… to find something that truly interests me."

"Oh? You don’t know what you want to do with your life? That’s normal. Many young people are in the same situation."

"The thing is, it doesn’t feel that way… I think I’m the only one among my friends who doesn’t know what to do with their life."

Tina glanced at her contemplatively, seemingly pondering something, perhaps her next words.

"Maybe it’s because your generation was shaped by war. When you realize how quickly everything can end, it’s like you feel the urgency to decide what to do and how to live."

And in that precise moment, Harika understood why she found it so difficult to decide. Harika had already died. She knew better than anyone how easy it was to lose one’s life. A large part of her was unconcerned about choosing a future career because she had already lost that sense of urgency Tina was talking about. Therapy and her recent experiences had made her realize that what she truly wanted was to be free, not tied down to a damn Ministry job like Hermione. Why did she have to choose a job when she returned to the UK? With the money she had, she could live without working for the rest of her life.

She started smiling as she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She didn’t have to do anything if she didn’t want to. She didn’t give a damn what others thought. She was going to spend the next few years studying whatever interested her and traveling the world with her trusty camera.

"Ah! I like that expression much better," Tina smiled. "Can I ask what changed?"

"I just realized something very important," she said, proceeding to explain her thoughts.

"Not a bad plan. If you have money, why not? You’ve already given a lot to your country. Still, I’d think of a way to keep earning income. You never know when things might take a turn."

"Like what?" Harika frowned, realizing she had a point.

"Hmm… What most people with wealth do is buy and rent properties. Literally living off the income. Or maybe invest in a business or buy shares."

"That’s not a bad idea… I could generate income without having to physically manage anything."

"Exactly! And in the meantime, you could do whatever you wanted. Like studying Charms."

"What?" Harika blinked at Tina’s mischievous smile. "Why do you say that?"

"Haven’t you been doing that since we arrived in China? I saw Rolf give you that book. I know that besides the translation charm, you’ve been practicing others. And from what I’ve heard from Luna, you learned the Patronus Charm when you were just thirteen."

Clearly, nothing escaped Tina’s notice.

"You think I could achieve a mastery in Charms?"

"Why not?" Tina shrugged. "How about this? While Newt teaches Rolf and Luna, I could teach you Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Seriously?!" Harika asked in astonishment. "That would be incredible!"

And just like that, almost unintentionally, she started a double mastery with Tina and, to a lesser extent, Newt Scamander. The weeks flew by even faster. They traveled across Asia until they reached Africa, where Harika saw incredible things that broadened her perspective. She had never considered herself particularly intolerant, but she realized that traveling and seeing the world from another point of view was exactly what many people in her country needed.

Had she never left the UK, she wouldn’t have seen creatures almost no one knew about, nor would she have learned five languages—albeit illegally—nor would she have improved her photography skills to the point where she was beginning to realize she was becoming a professional.

She also wouldn’t have met Sofiane and Amari in Kenya when their travel groups coincided in search of one of Newt’s mysterious creatures, nor would they have told her about the magical school in Uganda where most African witches and wizards studied.

"At Uagadou, we don’t use wands in the upper-level courses," Sofiane said, to her astonishment. "Our ancestors practiced magic wandlessly. It was during colonialism that wands were introduced to Africa, though many remained sceptical of a tool created in the West."

"In the end, we decided to learn how to use a wand, but without losing the ability to perform magic without one."

"One of the biggest challenges at Uagadou is Animagus transformation," Newt said, nodding and jotting something down in his journal. "Here, many believe that a true wizard is one who can transform without a wand."

"That’s due to the tradition in some tribes where one is only considered an adult when they can transform," Amari explained, his white smile standing out against his sharp features and high cheekbones. He was as tall as he was dark-skinned, and incredibly slender. "That’s why most Transfiguration Masters have come from Africa."

"Transfiguration Master?"

"To become a Transfiguration Master, one must be an Animagus. There is nothing more difficult in Transfiguration than transforming oneself without a wand and returning to human form without losing one's mind to the animal. Of course, that’s not the only thing a Transfiguration Master studies, but by that point, most spells and transformations should be a breeze."

"Huh. I never would have thought… So, could I ask to be examined by a Transfiguration Master to see if I qualify for a mastery?"

"You can transform?" Newt looked up from his journal with childlike curiosity.

"Yes, and my friend Hermione, and probably more students from my old Hogwarts class."

"Actually, no, Hari," Luna interrupted. "The only ones who managed it were Hermione, Padma, and you. I tried, but I knew it was pointless. I’m not ready to discover my animal form yet."

"Really? I didn’t know that. Hermione never mentioned it."

The truth was that, once again, she had taken it for granted that since most of them had enrolled in that extra Transfiguration class, they had all managed to transform. She was quite surprised to realize that she had succeeded when the transformation rate was actually so incredibly low. Although… had she perhaps managed it because she believed it wasn’t that difficult? If she had known that only one or two people succeeded each year, she was sure she would have sabotaged herself. Maybe that’s why Hermione hadn’t told her anything.

During the two and a half months she spent in Africa, Harika was put in touch with a Transfiguration master who evaluated her knowledge. She wasn’t granted mastery right away, but she was assured that she would be ready before leaving the continent if she dedicated all her free time to studying and practicing Transfiguration. Seeing the great opportunity that had presented itself, Tina and Newt decided to help her by teaching her all kinds of tricks and testing her day after day.

On the second-to-last day before leaving South Africa, Harika stood before the panel of African judges. She demonstrated various transformations, conjured and vanished objects, passed the oral tests on theoretical knowledge, and finally transformed into her harpy eagle form. After nearly five hours of examination, the jury delivered their verdict.

"Congratulations, Transfiguration Mistress Harika Potter. You have achieved an understanding of Transfiguration that few in the West ever reach."

Harika couldn’t believe it. She— a Transfiguration Mistress.

Chapter 5: Part I - V

When she told Hermione, her friend reacted with a mix of jealousy, amusement, and arrogance.

"You didn’t really think the syllabus I sent you was the bare minimum, did you?" her friend said, smiling through the mirror. "You know I always study ahead."

"…Are you telling me you made me study extra for an entire year?" she asked in astonishment, with a hint of irritation. "Hermione!"

"What? Are you seriously going to complain, Harika? In just two months, you finished a master’s degree in Transfiguration! If you hadn’t studied the same material as me for a whole year, you wouldn’t have been able to do it."

"Ugh… I suppose I owe you one."

"And don’t you forget it!"

They continued talking for a while about their experiences and Hermione’s work at the Ministry. Damn Hermione… Since she hadn’t attended the classes, she didn’t know what syllabus had actually been given. Harika had assumed that what her friend sent her was the required material, but she had never realized it was just what Hermione was studying. When she ended the mirror connection, she had to smile, shaking her head at how her friend had tricked her without her even noticing. And people said Hermione was an angel. Ha!

It was already December, and the tour was following its planned route. They had started in China due to a creature that only appeared in July, so they had spent the entire month exploring the country and its immense diversity of both creatures and vegetation. In August and September, they had visited India and progressively moved westward, passing through Pakistan, Iran, Iraq… until they reached the African continent, which they had been exploring during October and November.

Now, they were in South America, and the plan was to spend two more months in the southern hemisphere of the Americas before moving north for another two months. Fortunately, she had only needed to learn Spanish once to be able to communicate verbally in most of the southern countries. The best part, besides how much she was learning, was the landscapes. From lush, warm, and humid tropical forests with their full rivers and stunning waterfalls to ice and rock deserts, and the vast, dark ocean stretching endlessly on the horizon. The world was immense and, at the same time, just a speck of dust in the universe. It was the dose of humility many people needed to realize that they weren’t even a grain of sand compared to everything around them.

"Hey, Hari," called Luna, appearing behind her.

"Luna. Are you done with your session?"

"Yes."

"How did it go?"

"Good. Better than expected," her friend smiled so genuinely that it brightened Harika’s day. "Look at all the information we gathered!"

Harika looked at her friend’s notes, returning the smile, while setting aside her own notes on enchantments. Tina was the complete opposite of Newt Scamander—strict, calculating, and stubborn. She was determined to teach Harika two more master’s degrees before the tour ended and had sworn she would succeed. Half thrilled and half terrified, Harika had nodded at the excited gleam in her teacher’s eyes. That meant that whenever she wasn’t working as a photographer, she was reading, practicing magic, and taking her own notes.

"Sometimes she gets bored on these trips with me," confessed her teacher’s husband one night in a low voice. "Having something to do, something she enjoys, has given her a new purpose. I’m sure you’ll earn that master’s degree. You know how stubborn she is!"

"I can hear you, Newton Artemis Scamander!"

Newt grimaced, shrinking back on the log he was sitting on with a guilty smile. Then, he winked at her and secretly handed her a small but thick, handwritten journal filled with enchantments and defensive tricks he had developed throughout his career. Harika nearly drooled at the sheer amount of secret knowledge he was gifting her without asking for anything in return. She swore she would learn it all. It wouldn’t take much effort—she was eager to practice those spells. Was this how Hermione felt all the time? No wonder she always had her head buried in a book.

She quickly realized that most of Newt’s spells were medical, hunting, capturing, or defensive in nature. It made sense. In his life, he must have encountered countless injured animals, and he had likely been wounded many times himself. Not to mention the times he captured creatures to heal them and the other times he had to flee from criminal gangs determined to get rid of him so he wouldn’t rescue the animals they held captive for their dirty gold.

One way or another, she was learning so many medical spells that she started considering becoming a healer. It had never crossed her mind before, but why not? She was good at enchantments and Transfiguration, and, despite appearances, she wasn’t mediocre at potions either. Her grades proved it. Without Snape breathing down her neck and with so much free time, she had been able to study at her own pace with Andromeda’s help.

Still, she couldn’t see herself working at St. Mungo’s for the rest of her life.

"You could open your own clinic," Luna shrugged. "You’d just need a place to set up your business and some employees. Clinics need a Ministry license to operate, but once you have that, part of your business is subsidized by the Ministry."

"Mmm… I don’t know if I want the Ministry involved in my supposed clinic."

"Another option would be to become a private healer," Rolf chimed in, eating dinner across from Luna. "You’d work for a few select families, or even exclusively for one. It’s very lucrative, though getting chosen among so many private healers can be tough."

"With who she is, I doubt she’d have trouble," Tina chuckled. "Especially with the two master’s degrees she plans to complete in less than two years."

"Though if you had a master’s in Potions, you’d stand out even without being Harika Potter."

"Yeah…" she muttered, frowning. "I don’t know if I want another master’s degree, especially in Potions."

"If I were you, I’d check out a few books before deciding," Luna shrugged after her advice and continued eating.

She blinked. Luna had never led her astray. A part of her thought she had some divinatory abilities, no matter how much Hermione insisted she was just eccentric. So, resigning herself to checking which Potions books she already owned and buying a few more updated ones, she avoided sighing as she realized she had a lot of work ahead. It wasn’t that she disliked Potions, but whenever she thought about them, Snape and that grimy, gloomy dungeon came to mind, along with all the times she had been humiliated and scolded.

Tina noticed her troubled expression and, without hesitation, asked her about it. Harika told her everything she thought and felt about Potions—something she could never have done without months of therapy. Before, she would have simply denied feeling anything at all.

"You’re letting one person ruin something that could improve your life," Tina said firmly, without mincing words. "You told me yourself that you had good grades in Potions, so you know that the grades you got under this man’s tutelage had nothing to do with being ‘stupid.’ What about that Slughorn fellow? He thought you were a prodigy in Potions."

"Because I was using a book with improved instructions."

"So what? Isn’t that what life is about? If something doesn’t work, we improve it. Why should we settle for something mediocre just because it’s conventional? Besides, if you had been mediocre or stupid, like that Snape claimed, not even an improved recipe would have been enough to brew a perfect potion. You followed the steps, like everyone else, and created something your Potions professor, a master of over fifty years, said was perfect."

"And believe me, Slughorn may be many things, but he’d never lie to someone about their Potions skills," Newt agreed. "I know from experience—I had him as a professor for years."

Harika mulled over the Scamanders’ words for days. Honestly, during her classes with Slughorn, she had started to believe that maybe she was better at Potions than Snape had told her, but it was Hermione who made sure she believed otherwise. She didn't know if she had done it on purpose out of jealousy or without realizing it, but that part of her that had begun to recognize her own worth had shattered the moment she hid that book at her friend's command. Now that she thought about it coldly, and objective people were telling her what they believed about the matter, what did the book and its instructions even matter? What truly mattered was that she had followed the instructions and created something extraordinary. Not just because the recipe had been improved, but because she had proven she could brew a potion on her own without messing it up.

She felt a small weight lift off her shoulders when she realized that it didn't matter what Snape or Hermione said. She wasn’t a bad portioner. From there to creating a potion from scratch—one that didn’t exist—just like inventing a spell… That was harder, but not impossible. It was precisely what she was studying with Tina for her Mastery in Charms: spell creation. It was the final requirement of the mastery, just as becoming an Animagus had been in her Mastery of Transfiguration.

She realized all this in the middle of a stop in California. She blinked behind her glass lens and smiled while clicking her camera. It was February, and they had started the North America tour. They were in the eighth month of the tour, meaning they had already passed the halfway point without even noticing. She adjusted her hat and gloves, despite being under several climate enchantments, and then continued following the dugbogs with her camera.

It was the first time she had seen them in person: a creature that looked like a dead log when it remained still. She had to hold back a laugh when she saw it move, crawling all over the Madrona swamp. She imagined a Muggle sitting on one, only to scream in terror when they saw the log hobbling out of reach. Still, when it emerged entirely from the ground or water, it looked more like a giant toad.

"Oh, look how it devours the mandrakes," Luna whispered beside her, watching with bright eyes as the enormous dugbog devoured a shrieking mandrake.

"Fascinating," she said almost sarcastically. She liked magical creatures, but not enough to dedicate her whole life to them.

She saw Tina’s cheerful face beside her husband, who was happily ignoring them while watching the creature like a child—just like Luna or his grandson.

In the following weeks, they travelled through more states in the U.S. before moving on to Canada, where they helped Newt and his assistants rescue a group of Graphorns that had been illegally brought in from Northern Europe. Harika couldn't contain a smile at the rush of adrenaline as she duelled a hooded man.

"Stay alert!" Tina shouted, though Harika wasn’t sure if she was talking to her.

Harika didn’t even glance away. She chained together a series of spells, curses, and transfigurations that ultimately knocked her enemy unconscious.

"Retreat!"

"Oh, not a chance!" she muttered to herself and quickly raised a barrier against Apparition and Portkeys, leaving more than one of them stranded in the middle of the forest.

She heard the screams of a few who had been trapped mid-transport and saw that some were missing a limb or two. Rolf and Luna quickly knocked them unconscious, while Tina and she took care of the others who were left alive and intact. She glanced over at Newt and his two assistants, who were freeing the animals from their miserable cages, using spells to heal their wounds.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, so she jumped to the side just in time to dodge a strange greyish curse flying past her.

"Lumos Solem! Stupefy!" she cast the spells silently. Someone screamed in pain at the blinding light and was immediately knocked out.

Silence fell as everyone tied up and secured the criminal gang they had stumbled upon in the middle of nowhere.

"Are you all right?" Tina asked, rushing to her grandson’s side.

"We're fine, Nana."

Then she looked at Harika, inspecting her from head to toe, unsurprised to see her unharmed. Finally, she turned to her husband. Harika levitated the unconscious bodies alongside Luna and Rolf, following Tina's instructions.

"We'll put them in the suitcase and hand them over to the authorities."

"I'll have to return these Graphorns to their natural habitat," Newt frowned. "Unfortunately, it looks like they’re in the middle of their breeding season."

Harika listened to them think aloud while securing the perimeter with barriers and enchantments. That night, after they had managed to fit the magical creatures into Newt’s fantastic suitcase, they set up camp much farther away. They didn’t know if they had caught them all and didn’t want to be ambushed near the scene while they slept.

"We’ll have to stay here for a few more days—longer than expected," Tina told her a few hours later. "This issue has to be resolved with MACUSA before we can move on."

"I don’t think a few extra days will hurt us."

"That’s what I said too. You can take this time to rest while I accompany Newt."

"I think I’ll visit Central Alley. That’s what it’s called, right?" she asked, referring to New York’s equivalent of Diagon Alley. Tina nodded. "I want to buy a few things."

In fact, she wanted to buy Potion books and stroll leisurely through the shops, buying whatever caught her eye. That’s what she had done in Brazil, Argentina, and Peru, where she had literally bought almost 200 books on Herbology, Curses, Weather Enchantments—especially against the heat—and many others that had piqued her interest. She had also purchased several potions that were illegal in the UK and potion ingredients that would have cost her a fortune in Europe.

When she set foot in New York’s alley, she was stunned. Like everything in the U.S., it was enormous and relatively new. There were the typical shops she could find anywhere, like the wand shop, the seamstress, the apothecary, the bookstore… but there were also others she hadn’t seen in the UK, like a massive beauty salon, a two-story jewellery store, or what appeared to be a shop selling magical Muggle items.

"Come in, come in!" greeted a woman slightly older than her with a big smile. She wore Muggle clothes except for her boots and a short, simple violet robe over her outfit. "I’ll be with you in a moment."

Harika nodded distractedly. She looked at all sorts of gadgets: televisions, miniature cars, radios, DIY tools, stuffed animals, picture frames… She had no idea where she had ended up, but she was delighted by what she was seeing.

"Impressive, isn’t it?"

"Yes. How is this possible? I thought magic destroyed all Muggle devices!"

"Yes and no," the voice answered. Harika turned to look at the girl. "I’m sure you’ve seen a magical radio at some point, haven’t you?"

"Well… yes. Now that I think about it."

"Exactly. The truth is that in some parts of the world, anything non-magical is frowned upon. Judging by your use of the word ‘Muggle,’ you must be from the UK, am I right?" Harika nodded. The girl rolled her eyes in exasperation. "The British Ministry loves restricting certain technologies, but here it’s different. Oh, by the way, my name is Eve."

"Nice to meet you. I’m Harika."

Eve blinked, and her eyes inevitably landed on the nearly faded scar. She said nothing, but Harika knew she had recognized her. Eve gestured for her to follow.

"If you think the radio is amazing, you’re going to love this," she said, showing her a square television that wasn’t as large as the ones Harika had seen. It was more… flat, about the thickness of one or two encyclopaedias.

"No way!" Harika exclaimed, realizing what she was looking at.

"Yes! And with thousands of movies available!"

Harika was stunned as she watched the test television play a relatively recent movie called Good Will Hunting. The television was connected on the side to a small black box, about the size of a box of chocolates, which supposedly contained hundreds of recorded movies. She couldn't believe it. Hermione would have a meltdown when she told her.

She finished her day of freedom by restocking the few potions she had used, buying more ingredients, books, and even magical clothing with a Muggle appearance that she couldn't find in the UK. She even allowed herself a visit to the hairdresser, where she acquired a few bottles of magical products that swore to leave her hair glossy and silky. Before leaving, she caught sight of what seemed to be a trunk shop. She hesitated at the door, wondering whether to go in, but eventually, she did. Her bottomless backpack was great, but if she planned to experiment with potions, she would need plants and herbology materials.

"Welcome to Smith’s Trunks! How can we help you?"

"Hello. I'm looking for a very sturdy trunk with protective enchantments and such."

"We've got plenty of those," the shopkeeper chuckled.

He showed her a variety of trunks. Some were extremely luxurious, others were simple, some were already designed for special circumstances—like that library trunk—while others were practically a house inside.

"Aurors usually buy this type of trunk," he commented, patting the house trunk. "Unlike a magical tent, trunks take up much less space and don’t need to be set up. Simply opening and closing the suitcase after placing it on a flat surface makes it easy to use."

"I see… I suppose if you need to leave quickly or hide, it's much better than a tent."

"Exactly. That’s precisely why Aurors request these beauties so often."

Harika considered buying one, but since she had Newt’s fantastic journal, she knew she could create whatever she wanted inside it. With that in mind, she preferred to invest in a magical trunk without compartments but with all kinds of spells, enchantments, and protective and concealment runes. She spent nearly 20 Galleons on a black leather suitcase with camouflage spells, but she knew it was a worthwhile investment.

"Look at what I bought," she said with a smile, showing the trunk to the others.

"Oh! It's packed with protection enchantments!"

Harika nodded at Tina’s words. She explained her idea of creating a suitcase similar to Newt’s, where she could build a home tailored to her needs, as well as a greenhouse. Her plan was to grow her own plants so she wouldn’t have to keep buying ingredients constantly while learning potions on her own.

"That’s a great idea!" Newt assured her. "You have no idea how many times my suitcase has saved my life in the middle of nowhere. Just by opening it, I could shelter from the snow or the scorching desert heat and get some rest."

"Then, will you help me with my project when you have time?"

"Of course, though Tina knows all the spells I’ve used over the years."

And so, Tina, Newt, and, surprisingly, Luna started helping her with her new herbology and potions project. The first thing she did was cast the expansion charms that enlarged the space inside her new suitcase. Then she built a wooden staircase and conjured temporary lights, which she would later replace with real magical ones.

"It would be nice to create a hallway from the entrance at the stairs that connects to your house and then to the greenhouses."

"I’d like to build a potions area separate from my house, just in case."

"With this much space, you can literally do whatever you want," Tina laughed, spreading her arms as if she could embrace everything within them.

Time flew by between taking photographs in snowy Canada, studying enchantments and offensive magic, and the slow but steady construction of her new suitcase-home. The easiest part was building the structure, considering she had plenty of materials in the wilderness. She raised walls, laid wooden floors, created rooms, and furnished her new home with more magical furniture. The house now had four bedrooms, a large living-dining room, a kitchen with a pantry, a laundry room, and a library connected to a private study.

In the distance, she built the potions laboratory with a huge pantry filled with potions and ingredients, and connected to it were enormous greenhouses with separate sections. This was, without a doubt, the largest structure inside the suitcase—one she couldn’t have fit inside her magical tent.

"Not all plants have the same requirements," Lenora reminded her. As the potions master of the team, she knew a great deal about plants. "But luckily, we can easily fix that with magic. How many plants do you want to grow?"

"As many as possible, obviously."

Lenora gave her a wide smile before shaking her head. Beside her, Tina let out a chuckle.

"That’s exactly what my husband would say."

March passed in a blur, consumed by her renovation project. Meanwhile, Newt, Luna, and Rolf continued studying the strange yet fantastic creatures they kept finding. With each passing day, she became more convinced that someday they would discover a wrackspurt or perhaps one of those gulping plimpies Luna always talked about.

"It’s beautiful, Harika," Newt praised her when he saw her latest photograph of a yeti. Yes, a yeti. "Our latest book is going to look spectacular with such images."

"Every kid will want to be a magizoologist," Alfred laughed, combing his beard with a tiny comb.

She closed the album where she stored her collection of high-quality photographs—the ones she printed instantly with magic—with a delighted smile on her lips. Who would have thought? She pictured her younger self, locked in the tiny cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys’, and realized she could never have imagined doing something like this. Something as exciting and fascinating as traveling the world taking photographs, getting paid for something her relatives would have dismissed as nonsense. And yet, who was the one who had already travelled to dozens of countries, for free, staying comfortably in her luxurious magical tent? Oh, if only Aunt Petunia could see her now—her stomach would churn with envy and jealousy.

She didn’t want anything to do with them. Not because they had any power over her or could hurt her again, but because they were completely irrelevant to her. When she said goodbye to her cousin, the only one who seemed to have done some self-reflection in his short life, she knew she would never see them again. The only thing she wished for them was that Dudley would continue to become a better person.

"Alright, let’s go!"

"Everyone grab the boot, guys and girls."

Harika grabbed the frayed lace of the Portkey and let it whisk her away to their next destination, watching as Alaska disappeared behind her in a white and grey whirlwind. The Australian coast came into view beneath her feet. The contrast was so stark that it took her breath away. Not only was it hot, but the sun blazed overhead, and the breeze carried the scent of the ocean. She saw the shimmer of the waves in the distance, and the sound of the sea reached her ears, growing closer by the second. They landed on a beach with crystal-clear waters and white sand.

"Wow. It’s beautiful."

Harika could only nod at Luna’s words. With a silent flick of her wand, she removed her winter clothes and cast another protective charm against the sun.

"I can’t believe we’re about to see a Bunjil," she heard Rolf say, with the same excitement as a child opening Christmas presents.

"This will be the second time in my life that I see a Bunjil in the wild."

Harika shook her head with a smile, listening as the magizoologists and their apprentices eagerly discussed the next creature they were about to see—the Bunjil, a magical bird similar to a brown eagle. Unlike its Muggle counterpart, the Bunjil was significantly larger, with mostly golden feathers on its inner areas. It also had control over the wind and, according to the Aboriginal legend Newt had explained to them that morning, could even breathe life into clay figures.

"On our list, we’ve also noted the Barramundi, the Currikee, the Coonerang, and the Bogai," Alfred informed them, cleaning a gadget that could detect minute traces of magic—an incredibly useful tool for tracking creatures in the middle of nowhere.

Harika had no idea what half of these creatures were, as some had only been included in the appendix of Newt’s book due to a lack of images. The new book was going to be much more complete and valuable for future studies—she was sure of it. Suddenly, she realized she was helping future witches and wizards learn, and she felt proud of her work.

"How's the greenhouse coming along?" asked Lenora, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I've planted the first seeds and cuttings."

"I can take a look at it later if you’d like."

"Great! I put the runes you told me about, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to check them over."

She hadn’t studied runes until recently, so she was still quite a novice. Luckily, she had all sorts of books from the Black family and her personal library, so she had started reading in her spare time. The runes were going to be essential for her greenhouse, as they would allow her to provide each plant species with the climatic, nutritional, and water conditions they needed. Every day, she was more amazed at what magic could do. She felt like she had only scratched the surface, just barely touching it with her fingertips—and she loved it.

Chapter 6: Part I - VI

The plan was to spend part of April in Australia and finish the month in Indonesia, but Australia was a much bigger and vaster country than Newt had anticipated. Especially because they stopped every two steps to investigate any little thing or trace that caught their attention. More than once, he saw Tina roll her eyes with exasperation filled with affection before conjuring a hammock and lying down to wait with a sigh. Harika, after taking the necessary photographs, joined her with her books on enchantments and defence.

"We’ll try to see Indonesia after we finish our stop in Japan," Newt sighed as they packed up to leave Australia. "I have a commitment in Tokyo that I can’t skip."

The others didn’t mind visiting Indonesia later, so no one complained. The stay in Japan was supposed to last three weeks before they departed for Russia. What excited her the most was realizing that she had the first six days free while Newt, Alfred, and Lenora handled a magical creatures matter with the Japanese Ministry. Tina, along with Rolf and Luna, would also be very busy that week accompanying Newt to give lectures at Osaka’s magical university, so they practically left her alone.

She found herself wandering through the most famous places of the Muggle world, photographing everything with her trusty camera. She stopped to try Japan’s delicious food, which was much richer and more varied than the English food she was used to, and she also bought gifts. The most interesting thing was the difference between London, where she had lived most of her life, and Tokyo. Despite being a metropolis, Tokyo had something special… something ancient. Maybe it was the deeply rooted traditions of its people, or perhaps the old buildings that stood among the tall, modern ones that swayed from time to time with Japan’s frequent earthquakes. She didn’t know what it was, but something about it took her breath away.

"Nobody gives you a second glance while you go about your life here," Luna shrugged when she mentioned her observations in amazement.

"They didn’t say anything to me in Canada either."

"Because they didn’t know you. Here, some might know who you are, and yet they won’t bother you."

She realized Luna was right. Reflecting on it that night, she understood that the difference between her homeland and Japan was respect. In the United Kingdom, she had often been treated like an object—by the press or even the Ministry. Here… things couldn’t be more different. She felt at home, like in Scotland, but the difference was that she hadn’t had to run away from people to be respected, to be left alone. She felt exasperation and a flicker of anger realizing that her own people had driven her to live in the middle of nowhere just to be able to breathe. She had even felt the need to hide her address because otherwise, she knew they would have tried to enter her house or take pictures of her through the windows while she showered or ate. It was so… pathetic. That was it. The United Kingdom was pathetic compared to so many other countries, and the funniest part was that her fellow countrymen thought it was the other way around. And to think they believed they were superior when other cultures excelled in so many things…

"I’m going to Tokyo’s magical alley," she told her friend. "Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks, Hari. Though, if I were you, I’d explore the alley thoroughly. I’m sure you’ll find something interesting that doesn’t exist back home…"

Harika raised an eyebrow, watching Luna’s dancing back as she walked away without another word. Luna had never given her bad advice, so she decided to follow it.

Tokyo’s magical alley was hidden behind a little-frequented temple. To enter, one had to ring a bell that Muggles couldn’t see, and then the alley’s entrance appeared beneath a red torii gate. It was as magnificent as the rest of Tokyo. There were people from all over, even humanoid creatures she had never seen before. Japan, despite being strict, was also tolerant of magical beings—or at least, magical Japan was.

Just by seeing how large the alley was, branching into two other alleys, she knew she would need a couple of days to visit each store. Still, she bought new potion ingredients, new seeds and plants, a much more modern and complete telescope that promised to let her see the sun itself, rolls of fabric she might use someday and couldn’t resist buying, modern Muggle-style clothing with all sorts of protections and enchantments, and even five kimonos that cost her a fortune but were the most majestic pieces of craftsmanship she had ever seen.

What surprised her the most were the cosmetics store, which was as big as George’s shop in England, and a sort of wand shop that didn’t sell wands.

"Welcome to Suzuki Artifacts," the shop attendant said with a bow. She was dressed in a professional dark yukata, her hair impeccably styled as if she were in a fashion show. "My name is Akane Suzuki. How may I help you?"

"What do you sell here?" she asked, utterly confused as the shop looked like a jewellery store, yet the window display read ‘artifacts.’

"Our business specializes in magical artifacts. You use a wand, correct?"

"Yes."

"In Japan, as in other Asian countries, centuries ago, it was frowned upon for women to wield a wand. Some believed that such an object—some even considering it to have phallic connotations—tainted noblewomen, which was seen as a stain on their family’s honour. A mere excuse, of course, to control women, who were just as powerful as men," Akane explained. Harika felt a pang of resentment hammering in her head at the thought of a man forbidding a woman to use magic for such a stupid reason. Akane seemed to notice her indignation because she smiled. "Of course, the women of old weren’t going to let men forbid them from using magic, but it was never customary in Japanese society for a woman to openly rebel against her family or husband."

"And what happened?"

"As you might guess, women had certain… tricks to continue using magic without men realizing. It is believed that Rika Ootori created the first artifact—a device capable of channelling magic, essentially equivalent to a wand." Harika glanced at all the artifacts on display and noticed that most were objects typically worn by women, such as rings, bracelets, hairpins, or even fans. "As you can see, jewellery was common and didn’t attract much attention. Rika noticed this and crafted a pair of rings—one for herself and one as a wedding gift for her firstborn daughter, which are now displayed in the Women’s Museum in Himeji."

"Wow… Now that’s a wedding gift."

"It was both a gift and a lifeline. Her daughter’s husband… was not a good man."

Harika couldn’t help but frown as she realized why that woman from so long ago had created something out of nothing for her daughter. A mother’s love was the most incredible thing in the world. And to think that now many people, both men and women, could use magic with a ring when that woman had only created something like this to protect her daughter from an abusive marriage…

"And how do they work?"

"First, we conduct a compatibility study and then use blood magic to link the artifact to the buyer. This way, no one else can use it, so stealing it would be useless."

"I think I’ll take more than one, if possible. You never know when you’ll need a backup."

"Of course. What type of jewellery or object do you prefer?"

"I’d like something I always have on me, like a ring. I wouldn’t want to be searching for a fan in a moment of need."

"I see. Good thinking. In that case, you might also be interested in a bracelet or a bangle."

She left Suzuki Artifacts a couple of hours later. Unlike a wand, which cost an average of seven Galleons, each piece of jewellery cost ten times more. Still, paying nearly 100 Galleons per piece seemed like a good investment, and it was pocket change to her. She bought a couple of rings, a bangle, and a bracelet. She looked at the blue sapphire and aquamarine ring with tiny diamonds set in a thin white gold band on her right index finger and smiled like a villain with a new toy.

The rest of the day was spent taking more walks through the alley, buying a little bit of everything. She spent so much money that Hermione—and Ron—would have had a heart attack. She now had so many clothes that her wardrobe had transformed into a 16-square-meter room where she barely had space for all her robes, dresses, sweaters, pants, skirts, kimonos, oversized shoes, heels, sneakers, and more. Not to mention the cabinet she had to buy for her multiple creams, lotions, shampoos, gels, bath salts and bombs, essential oils, enchanted combs and scissors, perfumes, exfoliants, etc. Yes, thanks to Andromeda and Fleur, she had developed a taste for certain luxuries that she no longer considered leaving behind.

She loved the confidence her new clothes and self-care routine gave her. During her time at Hogwarts, her routine had been to wash her hair with Muggle shampoo, wear charity clothes or her cousin’s old clothes from when he was much smaller and less bulky, and tie her hair in a braid or ponytail so it wouldn’t get in her eyes. She couldn’t believe how little she had taken care of herself. But, of course, if no one had taught her how to, how could she have known? Maybe she should have looked up hygiene or beautification spells, but Aunt Petunia had crushed her self-esteem so much that she had never even considered it.

She stopped at a half-empty Japanese café on the Muggle side. She smiled as she ate her pastry and drank one of the most popular Japanese teas. She took a couple of pictures through the window, watching people pass by in varying states of hurry, feeling that familiar excitement that always flooded her whenever she wanted to go exploring. She paid her bill and stepped out into the street with her camera hanging around her neck and held in her hands. She wasn’t about to miss a good photo that afternoon.

Tokyo was so vast that she walked and walked and walked, and it seemed endless. The alley wasn’t in the city centre, so her walk took her to the outskirts, where skyscrapers were mere shadows in the distance and residential houses dominated the scenery. She crossed a bridge over the river, pausing for a while to capture the sunlight glistening on the water and a couple of young cats playing on the riverbank’s green grass. On the other side of the bridge, she took photos of several abandoned houses that pleasantly surprised her with how well-preserved they were. She continued down the street, taking more pictures of another abandoned house when she noticed something. It seemed like the entire street was deserted. It was at that precise moment that she realized there was no one around, even though the houses were in good condition—empty, but well-kept—and the streets were clean. She looked around with growing curiosity.

"Why is there no one here?" she wondered. "Could this be a neighbourhood abandoned in favour of central Tokyo?"

Most of the houses were covered in vegetation, so she assumed it had been a long time since anyone had lived there. The deeper she ventured into the neighbourhood, the stranger it all seemed.

"A temple?" she asked aloud to herself, spotting a small shrine—one of many—at the top of a flight of stairs.

It was hidden at the end of a narrow alley between two apartment buildings of only three or four floors. She lifted her camera, taking another photograph of the section of the temple, surrounded by trees except for the front, which she could see between the empty buildings. Looking through her lens, she thought she saw a golden light, like sparks jumping from a switch. She raised her head to look with her own eyes, but there was nothing. Something about it gave her a bad feeling, considering the empty, abandoned neighbourhood, so she was about to turn around and leave when she heard it.

She spun around abruptly, looking back at the tiny brown temple with worn-out red torii gates. She could have sworn she had just heard the sound of a bell—so faint that she almost thought she had imagined it—coming from the temple. Then she heard it again: the high-pitched chime of a small bell, carried to her ears by the breeze. She hesitated several times, knowing this could be dangerous, but her curiosity was greater than her desire to turn around and run. She had never been able to leave a mystery unsolved, and this time would be no different.

She walked toward the temple, her wand hidden in her sleeve, but nothing happened. She dodged a few broken stones on the stairs while keeping her eyes fixed on the temple as it got closer. As soon as she stood in front of the door, she realized it was half-open, as if someone had abandoned it in a hurry. She opened the door with magic, observing the dark interior from the outside. She sent a couple of Lumos spells inside to see what was in there without exposing herself, but there was nothing—no one, nothing unusual. Just a short hallway leading to an empty room with what seemed to be wallpapered walls.

She used a few more spells to check for any danger before stepping inside. She saw a bell hanging above her head and another hallway to the left, but first, she wanted to look at the room in front of her. The floor wasn’t tatami but wood, and the planks creaked loudly under her feet. She avoided stepping on broken boards to prevent injury, but curiously, the temple was in good condition. Especially considering that the entire neighbourhood seemed to have been abandoned for decades. She walked to the centre of the room, noticing how some wooden planks wobbled beneath her feet, until she stopped in front of a medium-sized painting that caught her attention. She took a picture before examining it with her own eyes.

It was a horizontal painting seemingly divided into two scenes, oddly connected by what looked like a stone well in the middle of a grassy field. On the left side of the painting, where the sun was setting, there was a meadow of yellow flowers with a deer grazing at the foot of some trees and a person floating backward away from the well and the rest of the painting, arms raised and stretched as if about to do a somersault in the air. On the other side of the well, where it appeared to be full daylight, there was another flower meadow—this time violet—more trees, though without the deer, and the same person wearing the same clothes, but now depicted diving headfirst into the ground, arms extended in front of them like a swimmer.

She observed it for a long time, intrigued as to why something so strange would be hung in a sacred place. Then she noticed that the wall behind the painting had scuff marks. She traced them with her finger to the frame. Could there be something behind it? Just as she was about to move the painting, she barely touched the frame before it tilted sharply, hanging askew on the wall. She realized where the scuff marks had come from when she heard the scraping of the frame against the wall. Surprised, she turned the painting over, just as countless people seemed to have done before, until it was completely flipped. The well was now at the top, and the scenes had switched places—now sunset was on the right, and morning was on the left.

The strangest thing about all of this was that viewed this way, it looked as if the person on the left was diving into the well and emerging from the other side again. A wild idea came to her, but her intuition told her to try it. She gripped the frame firmly and gave it a push. She expected it to fall to the ground instantly, but the frame spun several times on the screw that held it to the wall. The picture, now that it was in motion, made even more sense. The person was—

Ding!

Harika spun around, heart pounding, as she heard the bell behind her. Wand in hand, she checked that she was still alone, but now she wasn’t enjoying this anymore. Then, while taking a deeper look around, she realized that the walls weren’t wallpapered, as she had thought, but covered in thousands of Japanese characters. Kanji. They seemed to be prayers for protection and concealment. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she decided to leave immediately. She walked quickly, determined to get out of there, when the wood beneath her feet groaned loudly and collapsed beneath her.

She let out a terrified scream as she fell through a hole in the floor, losing her wand as she instinctively opened her hands to stop her fall. She tried to grab onto the stone as the hole beneath her feet seemed endless, but she couldn’t. The only thing that worked was using her feet to slow her fall. It was working! What she hadn’t accounted for was the camera that had been hanging around her neck, floating above her head. She looked up just as she was slowing down, only to see the camera plummeting toward her face at full speed, hitting her forehead with a solid smack that knocked her out. She felt her body go limp as she lost consciousness...

...When she came to, it was night-time, and she had a splitting migraine. She stayed on the ground, lying there, catching her breath to think. She touched her body, realizing she was mostly fine, and then struggled to pull out her prepared medical potions kit. One vial later, and the migraine was gone. As soon as she could think more clearly, she noticed the pain from her injuries: the burning in her palms from trying to grasp the stone, the throbbing in her forehead, and the sharp pain in a couple of fingers on both her hands and feet. When she looked at her right hand, she saw she was missing a fingernail and had to fight back a gag.

She averted her gaze while thinking of the necessary healing spell. Her hand trembled when she looked back to aim her wand. That was when she realized she didn’t have it. She searched frantically, feeling around the ground in desperation until she remembered the magic ring on her finger.

"Accio wand."

Her wand returned to her after a couple of tries, during which she feared she had lost or broken it in the fall. As soon as she had it in hand, she healed her missing nail and the broken toe. She applied a disinfectant potion to her palms, watching as smoke rose from her wounds when the violet liquid touched her raw skin. After that, she used essence of dittany to help her skin grow back. She repeated the process on a few scratches on her head, feeling a sharp sting as the wound on her forehead closed up. Exhausted but fully healed, she stood up and used her wand to clean the blood, dirt, and grass stuck to her clothes. Fortunately, her enchanted robes remained spotless thanks to their protective charms.

She touched the leather bag that always hung at her hip, sighing in relief, and repaired the camera when she saw it was covered in scratches and dust. She tucked it into her bag while looking around, completely out of place in her luxurious-looking outfit in the middle of the forest.

"Where the hell am I?"

No one answered, of course, but saying it out loud made her feel better. At least, she told herself, she was safe and had all her belongings. With her wand in hand, she tried to find the most direct route to Tokyo, but her wand kept spinning aimlessly in her palm. She froze as she realized what that meant: either Tokyo no longer existed, or she was in a place where Tokyo had never existed. She tried London and Paris— nothing. She was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

A distant wolf howl made her realize she couldn’t just stand there like an idiot in the middle of nowhere at night. She cast a few spells to make sure she was alone— and she was— before transforming into her harpy eagle form. She soared above the trees surrounding her, trying to get her bearings, but all she could see was forest upon forest. There wasn’t even a distant light to guide her to a city or village. The only things in sight were a vast forest, a few mountains, and a stream.

She looked up at the sky and only sighed in relief when she saw the familiar constellations and stars. She didn’t know where she was, but somehow, she was still on Earth. A small spark of joy lit up inside her as she realized her studies were paying off— if she hadn’t reviewed astronomy, she wouldn’t have known that, and she would have felt even more lost.

She searched for a hidden, elevated spot to place her new suitcase. She could use her tent, but that would attract more attention and require more space. After setting up a few subtle barriers, she entered her mobile home. Exhausted, the only things she could manage were a shower, dinner, and going straight to bed. Maybe things would be clearer in the daylight…

...

Unfortunately, they weren’t clear at all. She had spent the morning flying upriver in search of a city, but no matter how far she flew, there was nothing. She ate a meal, thanking the heavens for having stocked her pantry weeks ago, and meditated.

The last thing she remembered was falling through a circular hole which, thanks to her preserved memories through Legilimency, she now recognized as a well. Inevitably, she recalled the painting she had been studying. Could it be that rolling the painting had activated some sort of mechanism or portal? The bell had rung right after. Coincidence? Then again… wasn’t it a bell that had first caught her attention at the temple? Maybe she was overcomplicating things.

The fact remained that she didn’t seem to be in her… dimension, so to speak, but she was still on the same planet. Which meant that somewhere, there was a portal that could take her back home.

"The place where I fell!" she exclaimed, quickly gathering her things.

She transformed into an eagle again, but everything seemed the same. Trees and more trees. Fortunately, the stream could guide her downstream, back to the place where she had appeared. It took her hours to reach the area where she believed she had first arrived, and then more hours on foot, searching the ground for bloodstains or disturbed earth from her weight. Magic wasn’t much use if she didn’t have a target to look for, so she had to do it the old-fashioned way. She searched for anything that could resemble a well, a door, an arch… anything! But there was nothing. Nothing!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" she screamed in frustration, unleashing her fury upon the world. "WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?! FUUUUUCK!"

Panting, she rested her hands on her knees, feeling better after a good scream. She spent a couple of minutes breathing, trying to clear her mind and think of nothing, when she felt eyes on the back of her neck. She froze, pretending she hadn’t noticed anything, thinking about what to do. Her wand slipped discreetly into her hand at the exact moment she turned, sending an explosive spell behind her back. She saw a shadow darting through the trees at a speed that made her dizzy. She heard breath against her back and turned again, wand in hand, when— for the second time in less than a day— she lost consciousness.

She woke up a while later, this time without a headache, and immediately knew she was slung over someone’s shoulder, judging by her body bent over something hard but warm and moving. She noticed her wand was missing from its holster, though she wouldn’t have been able to use it anyway, considering her hands were tied up and wrapped in rope from her wrists to her fingertips. Luckily for her, she still had her invisible ring.

"Stupefy!"

The spell shot out. Her hand was close to her captor’s body, so they didn’t see it coming. They tumbled to the ground, crashing against a tree and then onto the dirt. She heard a snap and then pain. It wasn’t the first time she had felt that kind of pain, so she knew she had broken a bone from the impact against the wood at such speed. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming and alerting anyone else.

She vanished the bindings on her hands and legs and examined herself. The moment she tried moving her right arm, she saw stars and knew she had at least broken her humerus. She couldn’t hold back the tears of pain as she rummaged through her bag for her medical potions kit. Again. With trembling hands, she took the Skelegro.

If she could have aimed at her own arm with her right hand, she would have tried using Brackium Emendo, but considering she couldn’t move the limb without feeling a sharp jolt of pain, she decided it was better not to risk it. The potion took effect almost instantly. A painful tingling spread through her bone, forcing her to bite down on the leather strap of her bag to keep from screaming. Even so, within a few minutes, the pain decreased exponentially until it became bearable. It still hurt, but not enough to make her scream.

Once she managed to stop focusing on her arm, she wiped her tears with her sleeve and looked at the man she had knocked unconscious. He had injuries from the fall, like she did, but he seemed more resilient than a witch displaced between dimensions. He was tall, muscular, dressed in what appeared to be a military uniform, judging by the weapons and the greyish vest. He had a kind of silver band on his forehead with four diagonal bar-like markings, two above and two below. She tied him up with magic after stripping him of his clothes. Seeing nothing unusual on his body, she figured he must have stored her wand in his backpack— if he hadn’t thrown it away.

"Accio wand."

With a sigh of relief, her wand shot out of the backpack, just as she had suspected. It was still intact, so she tucked it into the holster on her right forearm as best as she could, using her non-dominant hand. She grabbed the backpack by its base, dumping everything inside onto the forest floor. She saw some triangular silver knives, bandages, a small medical kit, ropes, wires, a few needles, a small canteen, a roll of what looked like parchment, a quill and ink, some food wrapped in cloth, and what appeared to be some kind of brown pills.

She stood up, looking around, trying to figure out where she was, but she was still just as lost. Still, she thought she could hear the sound of water nearby, so maybe they had followed the river downstream. Or upstream. She wasn’t sure yet. Then, she realized her stroke of luck. Even though they had tried to kidnap her, she now had someone she could interrogate.

This man, however, had some sort of power because he had been able to move at an incredible speed through the trees, too fast for her to track with her eyes. She needed to prepare to interrogate him. She couldn’t afford another mistake. The only reason he hadn’t taken her ring or her bag was that they were charmed against Muggles— which meant that this man was a Muggle who, somehow, possessed powers.

This adventure was getting more and more interesting.

Notes:

The updates are twice a month, approximately every 15 days.

Chapter 7: Part I - VII

 

It took a while for her to get everything just right, but she achieved what she wanted. The man, completely naked, was bound from head to toe with metal chains created by her magic. She also tied him to a tree so he couldn’t jump or move, even though she believed it was practically impossible for him to do so. She blindfolded him and temporarily sent his belongings far away, just in case he could summon them somehow. Only then did she revive him.

"Ennervate."

The man stirred slightly before going still. Anyone else would have thought he was still unconscious unless they had been watching him, like she was, or knew exactly when he would wake up—which she did. He tried to fool her like a scoundrel, but this time, he was the one at a disadvantage. Since she had ended up in this new dimension, displaced from Japan, she decided to speak to him in her freshly learned Japanese.

"Who are you?"

"…"

The man didn’t answer, so she kicked him with her black dragon-leather boot. He didn’t flinch, despite her lack of restraint.

"I know you’re awake because I was the one who woke you up. Speak, or I’ll have to think of another way to make you talk… Who are you? Why did you try to kidnap me? Where were you taking me?"

The man scoffed but said nothing. Harika rolled her eyes and raised her wand. She could use Veritaserum, but she had limited reserves and preferred to save it for situations where other… methods wouldn’t work. There was no one around to object to what she was about to do, and after everything she had seen and done in the war, she had very few scruples left. So, she didn’t hesitate.

"Imperio. Answer my questions with complete honesty," she commanded aloud, watching as her almost-kidnapper relaxed in his chains. "What’s your name?"

"Mamoru Homura."

"What are you? How were you able to move so fast?"

"I am a ninja. Extreme speed is a common trait among ninjas, achieved by channeling chakra through the lower limbs."

Harika blinked in surprise. A ninja? Curiosity pricked at her—what exactly was a ninja, and how did they use this ‘chakra’ he spoke of? Still, she had more pressing questions to ask before indulging in this new mystery.

"Why did you kidnap me, and where were you taking me?"

"I kidnapped you because your powers could be a valuable asset to the Kiri rebels. I was taking you to our hideout in the Land of the Sea."

"Kiri rebels?"

"The Kiri rebels are ninjas who have been exiled, voluntarily or involuntarily, from the Land of Water, whose ninja capital is Kiri. They operate covertly to put an end to the legacy of Yagura, the Mizukage of the Land of Water."

Harika interrogated him relentlessly for a long time, as every answer led to five more questions. In the end, she discovered that there were five great ninja countries, each with a ninja capital and a civilian capital where the Kages—ninja leaders—and the daimyo resided, respectively. At that very moment, they were in the southern part of the Land of Fire, near the border with the Land of the Sea.

Apparently, there were also smaller ninja countries, but on a large scale, they held little power compared to the great nations. This was mainly because ninja wars between the major countries tended to take place in “neutral” territory—small nations that couldn’t defend themselves and were periodically devastated by the great nations' conflicts. As a result, even when these smaller countries tried to recover and improve economically, they never managed to catch up with the great powers—something that worked perfectly in the larger countries’ favor, as it meant fewer enemies and competitors at their borders.

"The Land of Fire itself, at the center of the map, has strategically surrounded itself with uninfluential countries," Mamoru explained in a monotonous voice. "It is bordered by eight minor nations, completely encircling its borders in a strategic manner."

Mamoru also spoke at length about the countries and the ninja and civilian villages within each nation. According to him, he was a jōnin—a high-ranking ninja—so he had a great deal of useful information.

He told her about Kumo, the most isolated and militaristic country of all, full of ninjas who thrived on war to keep the nation’s economic machinery running. He spoke of Iwa, a country that used mercenary terrorist groups to cover up its dirty dealings. The only countries that seemed to hold any value for her were the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, considering that the Land of Water was currently in the midst of a silent, covert civil war.

When she could think of nothing more to ask about this new ninja world and its inhabitants, she shifted to a completely different question:

"If you were a civilian with powers like mine… what would you do?"

"I would hide my powers but use my abilities subtly to survive. The most efficient approach would be to live in a great country, far from the ninja capital. That way, I would only have to worry about the ninjas of the country I reside in, as their enemies wouldn’t easily cross their borders, giving me a considerable level of protection—something a small country couldn’t provide. At the same time, I would try to get close to the daimyo by making myself useful with my powers, which would add another layer of defense against the country’s ninjas."

"So… you're saying the daimyo holds more influence than the Kage?"

"In certain situations, yes. The daimyo have a sworn ninja guard, they own most of the civilian businesses that sustain the country, and they control a civilian army. Attacking someone with that much economic power is frowned upon by the noble class, so Kage often consult their daimyo on major events, despite being the country’s undisputed military power."

"Mmm… I see," she murmured aloud. The ninja remained unbothered by her words since they weren’t a direct order. "Where is the nearest place to find an updated world map and travel supplies?"

"The Land of the Sea."

"Where is it?"

"To the south."

"Is it far? Do they have ninjas who might detect me?"

"It’s not far. The Land of the Sea has no ninjas of its own, but there could be ninjas from other countries."

"Great. Obliviate. Stupefy."

She left him unconscious again after erasing his memories and summoned his clothes back onto his body. She packed his belongings into his backpack with another spell before removing the chains. Then, she transformed into an eagle once more, feeling one of her wings still slightly sore despite the hours that had passed since taking the potion, and flew southward. She saw the sea in the distance, a triumphant feeling swelling in her chest—one she hadn’t felt in hours, maybe days. Finally, something was going right.

It took her nearly an hour to reach the first cit—the first town. It was clearly not a city. There were barely fifty streets, but it did boast a large port and an extensive market where fish was the star product. She observed the villagers carefully, silently realizing that she would have stood out like a sore thumb if she had appeared in her velvet, silk, and leather magical garments. She was going to have to change her outfit, at the very least, to avoid drawing attention. She would also use a few spells to divert prying eyes and transfigure some leaves into local currency. She didn’t want to stand out by flashing her gold and silver coins in what seemed to be a humble fishing village filled with traveling merchants.

She transformed her clothes into a dark yukata and swapped her boots for brown leather sandals. She conjured some money, examining it discreetly from the tree line, then transfigured a few leaves into banknotes. She walked into the crowd as if she belonged. No one seemed to give her more attention than usual, thanks to her spells, so she wandered through the market, eating an ice cream and browsing stalls.

"Excuse me," she called to a jeweler. "Where can I find a map shop?"

"Maps? At the village office. It's in the port."

"And how do I find it?"

"You’ll see it right away—it’s the only government building in the village."

Harika didn’t insist, seeing that he seemed more inclined to keep selling and making money than to answer her questions. She walked towards the port when she caught sight of what appeared to be another ninja, but this one looked different from Mamoru Homura. His vest was green, and his pants and sweater were navy blue, almost black. He also wore a headband with another ninja symbol, which she saw from a distance thanks to her enhanced vision. It was a kind of whirlpool ending in a sharp point that looked quite a bit like a leaf, so she knew, based on the description she had received from her interrogated captive, that he must be from Konoha.

"Sensei!" called the voice of a girl. "We found him!"

"Oh? It only took you two hours," the man said sarcastically, but he ruffled the hair of a girl who, to Harika's horror, also wore a ninja headband.

She could only be twelve or thirteen years old at most, and yet... was already a ninja? Mamoru had told her about the academy and the missions, but she didn’t know why she had assumed that genin didn’t carry out missions outside their village. According to Mamoru, D-rank missions consisted of painting walls and cutting grass or other equally trivial tasks… What the hell was a team of rookies doing so far from home? The Land of the Sea didn’t have its own ninjas, so logically, they had to be on a mission. She shook her head, looking away. The last thing she wanted was for them to notice her watching them from afar and try to interrogate her.

She still couldn’t believe the number of skills that were normal for a ninja: extreme speed, brute strength, supernatural reflexes, the ability to manipulate elements… Some even had hereditary gifts, like the Yuki clan, exiled from Kiri, which Mamoru had told her about. Honestly… could she defeat them in combat? Mamoru had captured her and knocked her unconscious effortlessly. In fact, he hadn’t even bothered to hide while stalking her because he thought she was a civilian. Maybe, in a ninja’s eyes, she was one…

It stung quite a bit to realize that a mere muggle could incapacitate her despite her being a powerful witch. Fortunately, it seemed they weren’t immune to magic, nor could they bypass her magical barriers. That would be a great help in surviving in this crazy world while she tried to figure out how to get back home.

The ding of the town office’s bell sent a shiver down her spine. It reminded her of the cursed bell that had led her to that temple. Oh, how she hated having set foot in that temple. It felt like weeks had passed since she fell through that magical well, even though it had only been yesterday at midday. If it hadn’t been for the ring—

She stopped dead in the middle of the street. The ring. Why did she have the feeling that the ring was exactly what Luna was talking about when she advised her to search the Japanese magical alley from top to bottom? If she hadn’t had the ring, she wouldn’t have escaped her kidnapper, and if it weren’t for Luna’s advice, she wouldn’t have entered the artifact shop and wouldn’t have bought the ring.

She was more convinced than ever that Luna, if not a true Seer, had at least a glimpse of that gift. Did that mean Luna knew what was going to happen and let it happen for some reason instead of warning her of the danger? Or did she simply sense that something was going to happen but not know exactly what? Either way, Harika silently thanked Luna, because the ring, even though she still didn’t fully control it, had saved her life.

"Welcome to Gin no Umi. How can I help you?"

"I was told I could buy a map here."

"Maps are free," corrected the youthful-looking boy sitting behind a desk. "Would you like one of the area or a more complete one?"

"All the maps you have."

The boy didn’t even blink at her request. She wondered if civilians had become desensitized to anything remotely strange, considering that anyone could control the elements with chakra and a little training. She took the maps, examining them closely, and saw that Mamoru hadn’t lied. The country she had come from was the Land of Fire, and now she was in the Land of the Sea. Further southeast was the Land of Water, and eight small countries surrounded the Land of Fire, one of them with a name as absurd as the Land of Sound. Was there a lot of noise there or what? She wondered mentally, with incredulity, amusement, and a hint of madness.

This couldn’t be happening… She really wasn’t in Tokyo anymore. She wasn’t in Japan. She wasn’t even in her own damn dimension or reality or whatever this was. Where was she? How was she going to get back? She began to despair as she admitted, for the first time in hours, that she was lost. She didn’t even know where to start investigating. The only place that had made sense to search was where she had fallen from the sky, and yet, there was nothing interesting there, and to make matters worse, she had been kidnapped in that patch of forest.

She sat on the beach sand, watching children play in the distance and some fishermen mending their nets while sitting in their boats, and looked at the white horizon. She had nowhere to go, no idea where to start investigating, no way to contact her friends, and knew practically nothing about this world… She was alone. Completely alone. She could no longer rely on Hermione, or Luna, or Andromeda. What was she going to do?

"Are you okay?" asked a boy with childlike curiosity, picking up the ball that had rolled near her.

"Yes."

"Are you really, really sure?" he asked again, approaching her with big, bright eyes. "My mom sometimes says she’s okay, but she’s not."

"… You’re very smart. What’s your name?"

"Enzo."

"Nice to meet you, Enzo. I’m Harika. And no, I’m not okay. I got lost, and I don’t know how to get home. I don’t even know if I can," she confessed. It was the truth, after all.

"Yeah…"

Enzo seemed to ponder her words but didn’t know how to comfort her. He bounced his ball on the sand a couple of times while thinking, but Harika ended the conversation abruptly.

"Don’t worry. When one door closes, a window opens."

"Huh?"

"It means that bad things also bring good things with them," she reassured the boy. If only she could believe her own words… "See you, Enzo."

She got up, wanting to be alone. The boy didn’t follow her but instead ran back to his friends after watching her back for a couple of seconds. She walked up the beach, leaving the people behind, while thinking.

"Bad things also bring good things…" she repeated, calming down a little. "What’s the good in this?"

She quickly realized that her greatest advantage was that no one here knew her or her powers. That meant that if she was smart, she could go completely unnoticed. After all, she had no chakra, so to a ninja, she was just another civilian—weak and therefore insignificant. They wouldn’t pay much attention to her unless she flaunted wealth or something that made her stand out above the average person. If she approached the daimyo as her captor had suggested, she would be putting herself in the crosshairs of many people. She realized then that Mamoru’s plan was a good one for a civilian with powers, but it had been thought out from a ninja’s perspective. Mamoru didn’t know what she was truly capable of, so he had only advised her based on the assumption that she had powers but he didn't know how diverse they were. However, despite what he thought, she was not technically a civilian or a ninja. She was a witch.

She smiled as she realized she had the start of a plan: she wouldn’t go to a ninja village or a civilian capital. Avoiding those places would leave her vulnerable to the civilians or ninjas she might encounter along the way, yes, but it would also keep her far from the watchful eyes of ninjas and the civil nobility of this dimension. That would give her more time to investigate what had happened to her without anyone noticing. Thus, her first step was to live inside her suitcase for as long as necessary.

Harika returned to the market, stopping to buy a large amount of food and look for a hostel where she could remain unnoticed. She could venture back into the forest with her suitcase, but knowing there were ninjas nearby, she preferred to act like a civilian. Fortunately, she found what she was looking for with relative ease, though, now, being accustomed to luxury, her room without a bathroom felt like a hole in the wall. She set up a few barriers to ward off both ninjas and civilians alike, then conjured a couch in the middle of the room, which had slightly worn tatami floors.

"Incredible," she sighed, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. "A world full of ninjas and child soldiers."

After a few days of resting and indulging in more self-pity than she would have liked, she started packing her things to leave the hostel and return to the Land of Fire. Her investigation wasn't going to conduct itself, and judging by the circumstances, she had a long journey ahead before she could find the first clue leading back home.

Not wanting to run into more ninjas, she decided to use her animal form to fly over the forest. Her first stop, of course, was the place where she had fallen. While she hadn’t found anything the first time, perhaps it was because she hadn’t searched thoroughly enough. She planned to scan a radius of a few kilometers, hoping to find something—anything—of interest. At this point, anything was better than nothing. Plus, now that she had maps, she could mark the areas she had already searched to avoid repeating them in the future.

As she flew, she pondered other ways to investigate her predicament. The image of Hermione in a library flashed through her mind. Perhaps Hermione wouldn’t be so far off the mark. Maybe she could find something valuable in one of this world's libraries. After all, if she had used a portal to travel between dimensions, surely someone else had done the same before her. She mentally noted to examine the photograph she had taken of the painting. She didn’t expect it to yield much yet, but she preferred to thoroughly investigate the object that had brought her here. She felt better having a solid plan to start with, no matter how fragile it seemed.

It took her a while to reach the exact location, but fortunately, she remembered it thanks to the river.

"To think that I was kidnapped here," she murmured, feeling odd speaking to herself while looking at the traces of her fall and the impact of her spell against a tree.

Thanks to the daylight, she could easily observe everything around the small clearing where she had woken up a few days ago. It wasn’t particularly spacious, and there were no marks other than those they had left on the ground. It didn’t seem like anything special. Just another spot in the middle of the forest. And yet, it was clear that something about it was unique—she just didn’t know what yet. She marked it on her map as accurately as possible and then began circling the area outward.

She used her magic to camouflage herself, avoiding detection by ninjas, and also to aid in her search for clues, but she found nothing. A part of her had expected this, so she wasn’t as discouraged as before. Though she still wanted to go home, she was no longer as desperate, because a voice inside her reassured her that, sooner or later, she would find a way back. It wasn’t so much that she missed the wizarding world—other than its comforts—but she did miss her family. In fact, if she didn’t have loved ones waiting for her on the other side, she might have been tempted to settle down in this place where no one knew her. Especially since she had all her belongings inside her bottomless backpack.

"That means I need to stay calm," she reminded herself. "It’s only a matter of time before I find something."

Time flew as she expanded her search, making wider and wider circles around her point of entry. There were no markings, no temple—but she hadn’t expected there to be. She stopped by the riverbank to eat one of the bentos she had bought before leaving the village in the Land of the Sea, gazing absentmindedly into the crystal-clear waters. She had to admit that the air in this dimension was pure and fresh. The pollution of large cities seemed nonexistent. She wondered about the society of ninjas and civilians—were they advanced, or did they live as they had in the past? She hadn’t seen a single car, though she had spotted ships, which seemed more medieval than modern.

As she finished her meal, she pulled out the map of the Land of Fire. The most sensible course of action was to find a place with ancient records, which meant heading to a larger city where she could locate such archives or at least someone who could guide her. She had already decided not to approach Konoha or the civilian capital, so she would try another major city. If she found no leads, she would have to reconsider visiting the capitals, despite her reluctance.

The largest city on the map that wasn’t Konoha or Keishi—the latter being the civilian capital, also called Hi no Kuni Shuto—was Mukambe, located to the west. North of Mukambe lay Keishi, so she would have to be cautious in that region, given the apparent ninja presence in the Land of Fire.

She decided to fly to the nearest city. Based on her calculations, it would take several hours to leave the outskirts of Joryoku—a village she hadn’t visited—before reaching her destination, so she set off immediately. Despite her eagle-sharp eyesight—literally—she didn’t see anything until midday. To her surprise, she spotted what looked like railway tracks in the distance, which completely caught her off guard. She followed the rails, knowing they would lead somewhere, and before long, she found the city. She had seen it from afar, but she knew she still had about an hour of flight left, and she was already exhausted.

She landed outside the city, in the middle of the forest, to rest for a while. She cast as many concealment spells as she could before slowly approaching the city's perimeter. She was so close to the people that she could almost touch them. Most were coming from the direction of the railway, so she assumed the station was nearby. The townspeople laughed and chatted as they strolled through the streets. Strangely, there were no ninjas, no guards, no registration office—nothing of the sort. Did that mean people could come and go freely? It seemed odd and unsafe, considering this was a ninja country… Still, it worked in her favor.

Her first priority was to confirm whether identification documents or passports existed, and if they did, forge one. With a bit of magic, she could create a false identity, so that wasn’t a major concern. She was more worried about standing out due to her clothes or money. She had two options: either acquire real money somehow or use conjured money in small amounts so that no one could trace it. Conjured money would disappear after a few days, making it seem lost or stolen; as long as she didn’t spend too much at once, no one would be able to track it back to her. Now that she thought about it, it might also be safer to change her facial features from city to city to remain unrecognizable.

Minutes later, a young woman of average height, with brown eyes matching her straight, short hair, entered the city without drawing any attention. Harika moved with confidence, knowing that nervous behavior was the quickest way to stand out. She browsed shops and observed the locals like any other tourist. If she set aside her investigation, she really was a tourist in a foreign land.

She searched for a library but only found a small bookstore. When she asked a local, he directed her to a government building that housed the city’s archives.

"Books are maintained by the government, so they’re kept in the mayor’s building."

"Could you show me where that is?"

"Of course. It’s that red brick building over there."

"Thank you very much."

"Don’t mention it. Have a good day."

"You too."

No one stopped her from browsing Mukambe’s single-floor library, so she spent the rest of the afternoon reading books, scrolls, journals, and even examining black-and-white photographs and newspaper clippings. It was fascinating. Just by reading journals, she gained a much deeper understanding of where and when she was compared to her original dimension.

This ninja world was a blend of the ancient and the modern; cinemas, televisions, radios, trains, and medical devices existed, yet airplanes, massive cruise ships, cars, and printers did not. She couldn't quite understand why some technologies existed while others did not, but she assumed there must be an economic reason behind it. After all, if manufacturing cars were profitable, she was sure they would be produced.

Of course, since she had no luck whatsoever, computers and the internet were nonexistent. That would have been too much to ask for. Luckily for her, despite growing tired just thinking about it, she was used to conducting research with quill and parchment. It would take much longer, but she wouldn’t be discouraged by unfavorable conditions—especially now that she had a goal in mind.

Chapter 8: Part I - VIII

Her journey through the Land of Fire in search of libraries, secret archives, or bookstores was slow. Mukambe helped her learn more about the world, but offered not a single clue about her mysterious dimensional displacement. She found nothing in the next town either, nor in the small villages she discovered between cities as she flew over massive forests, mountains, and rivers.

The days went by. Then a week passed, and another... time flew, and she didn’t feel any closer to returning home. Although she wasn’t as desperate about being alone in an unfamiliar place—now that she had the knowledge to blend in—that didn’t mean she wanted to stay much longer.

She spent sleepless nights wondering if Luna, Tina, and the others were searching for her through the streets of Tokyo. If they had found anything—a clue, a trace, or anything that could lead them to the damn abandoned temple that held the portal to the unknown. She wondered if Hermione, Ron, and Andromeda already knew she had disappeared, if they had dropped everything in the UK to join the search. She didn’t know what was worse—thinking that her friends were suffering because of her disappearance, or imagining that if she didn’t return within months, they would assume she was dead and move on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

That thought drove her to stay up late into the night, poring over the copies of documents and books she had secretly made, looking for something she might have missed—something she hadn’t written down in her endless-pages diary where she was collecting all the information she thought might be important or useful.

"At least I don’t have to worry about having a place to live…" she sighed, speaking aloud to herself as she looked at the greenhouses she had set up weeks ago.

When she bought the tent and suitcase-house, she never imagined how much relief they would bring. She had bought them to live outdoors during the Scamanders’ magizoology tour, but now that she was in a place where she didn’t even have Muggle money, having her own home felt incredibly comforting.

"I need money," she told herself. "I wonder how much they'll give me for a gold Galleon."

The next day, she left the forest again to head into Shukuba. She had been staying in the outskirts, avoiding the need to convert more Muggle money, but it was time to start blending in with the locals. She was seeing more and more ninjas around, and she couldn’t afford for anyone to notice her walking in from the forest every day and wandering through the city—anyone might start asking uncomfortable questions about why she wasn’t lodging like a regular tourist.

Shukuba was a city filled with shops—mostly bars and casinos. Because of that, there were also several pawnshops and gold exchange stores, which suited her perfectly. She entered one of them, noticing how more than a few people were browsing gold jewellery or selling earrings for easy money to spend on slot machines.

"Welcome to the South District Gold Exchange. How can we help you?"

"I’d like to exchange this gold medallion."

The Gringotts gold coin had been slightly modified. She knew from her travels and reading books and newspapers that gold coins didn’t exist in this world. It was odd, considering this dimension seemed to share similarities with an Edo-era Japan. Apparently, they used bronze, copper, and occasionally silver. So, a Galleon as a coin would stand out immediately. Gringotts gold could be transformed, but no one did it—on the one hand, using gold in Muggle stores was forbidden, and on the other, what was the point of altering a coin just to spend it in a magical shop? Thanks to that legal loophole, Hermione had been able to enchant a Galleon for the Dumbledore’s Army, and now she would do something similar to exchange her gold for Muggle money.

The clerk looked at the medallion—with a hole for a chain and everything—and whistled. He turned it over in his fingers with a critical eye before weighing it.

"About 31 grams of 24-karat gold... a fine piece of jewellery," the man said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to part with it?"

"Absolutely sure."

"Alright then. Let’s see... A gram of gold of this quality is 400 ryo, so for this medallion you’ll get... around 124,000 ryo. What do you think?"

"Perfect."

The transaction was quick. She was surprised they didn’t ask for ID or anything similar. Not that she had a passport or ID, but she was prepared to confuse him with a spell. She left with several bundles of bills, which she stored in her magical purse. She had eaten a bowl of ramen in Mukambe for 5 ryo, so she knew the money would last her a long time. She would try not to eat her suitcase rations, dine at restaurants instead, and blend in more by staying in cities.

Shukuba, of course, had no important documents that could help her. Part of her had already expected that, so she only sighed with a hint of disappointment and went to an onsen to relax. People ignored her, except for a few glances. It was refreshing to be a nobody. The only thing keeping her from treating this like a vacation was knowing she couldn’t contact her loved ones to tell them she was looking for a way back. It was like a thorn in her side that sometimes made it hard to breathe.

"Are you alright?"

The voice of an old woman snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked at her, a few meters away, and nodded.

"You don’t look like it, dear. Love troubles?"

"No," she chuckled a little. "I can’t go home."

"I’m sure it’ll work out sooner or later. Everything eventually works out."

"...And if it doesn’t?"

"Then what’s the point in worrying about something you can’t change?"

"Yeah. I suppose that’s true," she replied reluctantly. It might be true, but that didn’t mean she liked admitting it. "Thanks."

The old woman and that boy meant well, but their words weren’t much help. What she needed was beyond the reach of most people. Even her own, and she had supernatural powers.

...

The days passed slowly as she combed through libraries and bookstores in the nearest villages on her way north. She didn’t find anything useful, but she did spend a bit of the gold she had turned into Muggle money. Thinking about Hermione’s Galleon made her realize she might try to send a message to her friend—and she tried—but it didn’t work. It was disheartening to realize Hermione didn’t seem to be receiving her message, but she had already suspected it would be difficult or nearly impossible. Somehow, it felt like this dimension was completely sealed off from her original one.

She couldn’t use locating spells, couldn’t send a message with the Galleon, not even her Patronus message worked. Either way, it seemed the only way to travel between dimensions was physically—through a portal. One that had vanished. It had been almost a month since she disappeared from Tokyo and appeared here, and she was still just as lost when it came to returning. Even so, though she was eager to go back, she hadn’t lost an ounce of hope. Somehow, she knew she would return—she just didn’t know how yet.

Her path from Shukuba took her farther north, to Naga, another provincial city in the Land of Fire. She had expected it to be like before: walking, occasional chatter with a traveller, city and library exploration, disappointment, and a day of comfort to lift her spirits. In fact, that last part was what had consumed most of her money over the month, since onsens, casinos, and spas weren’t free. Still, the cost of living was so low that she hadn’t used up the ryo she got from that single Galleon, even though she hadn’t been frugal with food or services.

But things didn’t go as she expected. As she neared Naga—passing through a small village first—she began to hear crashes and screams in the forest. She looked around, but no one was nearby. It didn’t surprise her—she usually wandered into the woods, though staying relatively close to the paths, when she needed solitude. Even so, this was the first time she sensed someone even deeper in the forest. She doubted they were civilians—it had to be ninjas. Especially with those screams of pain.

She hesitated, but once again, her curiosity got the better of her. She found herself flying toward the source of the noise, hearing the screams grow louder through the underbrush, until she came upon what looked like a battle between rival ninjas. After only a few seconds of watching, she realized how serious it was—four ninja corpses lay on the ground, covered in blood and with holes in their torsos. Her stomach turned as she noticed, on second glance, one of them had been stabbed through the eye.

The only ones still alive were two men, though calling them both “men” was generous—one of them looked more like a teenager or young adult than the bearded man who was his opponent. She couldn’t see them well, as their high-speed movements meant they barely stood still before vanishing again. But she heard the metallic clash of kunai and what sounded like deep, tired breathing. Then, she saw a tree trunk flying out of nowhere, dragged by what seemed to be a translucent black cloth. It hit one of the ninjas, and the fight ended abruptly.

From her perch on a tree branch, hidden among the leaves, she watched the two ninjas. The older one—a rough, aggressive-looking man with a terrifying scowl—was lying on the ground. The trunk that had struck him was across his legs, as if he couldn’t get up under its weight. Judging by what she knew about ninjas, she doubted he really couldn’t remove the trunk, and she wondered what was really going on.

The other ninja—a boy likely half the age of the older man—panted a couple of times but quickly caught his breath. She couldn’t see his face, as he had his back to her, but he was clearly taller than she was. His brown hair was tied into a short ponytail, and she saw a silver earring in one ear. He wore the same Konoha ninja uniform as the one she had seen in the Land of the Sea, so she figured he was from Konoha too. The only parts of him she could see besides his back were the sweat-soaked nape of his neck.

"Konoha ninjas, always sticking your noses where they don’t belong," growled the older ninja, still lying on the ground.

Harika blinked, realizing that while she had been watching the younger boy, the older man hadn’t moved a muscle. He remained exactly where he had fallen, which only piqued her curiosity further. The younger ninja let out a deep sigh—not from exhaustion, but exasperation. Everything in his posture screamed how bored he was and how little he wanted to be there. He glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the corpses, and sighed again, though this time it seemed tinged with sadness.

"Exiled ninjas like you give us all a bad name," the young man said, walking toward his fallen enemy with confident steps. "Of all the things you could’ve done, you seriously thought kidnapping civilians for trafficking was a good idea?"

"Ha! As if you care! You’re only here because you were ordered to be—and paid for it. Otherwise, I’d like to see if you’d lift a finger to help those civilians."

"There’s no point in talking to you anymore. Either way, you’re my prisoner now," he replied, his voice growing increasingly monotonous and bored. "You’ll pay for my comrades’ deaths in prison, that’s for sure."

The other ninja, apparently an exile, said nothing. Harika watched everything from her branch in silence, feeling anger that the man lying on the ground had used helpless people for trafficking, and a flicker of gratitude that the other boy had saved them. She realized that, even though she didn’t particularly like ninjas due to their... flexible morals, some of them seemed to have principles. A tiny voice in her mind—one that sounded ridiculously like Hermione’s—wondered whether he had truly saved them out of compassion or if what had forced his hand had been money. She didn’t want to think about it more deeply at that moment, but she wouldn’t forget it.

The young boy approached his fallen enemy with what seemed to be a kunai in one hand and large, sturdy handcuffs that bore Japanese kanji she could read from a distance. Ninjas were strong, so she doubted anything as flimsy as metal handcuffs could be of much help. Unless they were enchanted—or whatever people called it here—to restrain the enemy somehow.

The Konoha ninja said nothing as he confidently walked up to his still-prone enemy. The exiled ninja looked at him with disdain, but remained silent, waiting for his fate. Only when the young boy reached out a hand, very close to his body, did he smile with bright eyes and spit something at him that Harika couldn’t quite see. In less than five seconds, a series of events unfolded that took her a moment to understand: the young boy gasped as he brought a hand to his neck and pulled out what seemed to be a tiny needle, the black cloth binding the exiled ninja unravelled, and the latter leapt from the ground, brandishing a kunai toward the young man.

Harika could only watch as he stabbed the man in the side before he had time to react. Despite having been attacked twice in under a minute, the young man managed to counterattack, stabbing what looked like a kind of shadow or fabric—she wasn’t sure—into his enemy’s neck. Both fell to the ground: the older man dead, and the young one on the verge of death. The moment she heard their bodies hit the ground, she blinked, snapped out of her shock, and shifted into human form as she glided the few meters down to the ground.

The exiled one only had a couple of seconds to look at her with clouded eyes before dying, bleeding profusely from the deep wound in his throat. The other man… wasn’t even conscious.

Right there on the ground, she covered the wound with her magic and ran to grab a blood-replenishing potion from her potion kit. Within minutes, the bleeding slowed significantly and some colour returned to his previously pale face. Still, she had no idea how to heal the wound in his side.

“It’s better if I get out of here as soon as possible,” she told herself, seeing the corpses scattered through the undergrowth.

She shrank all the bodies and levitated her half-dead patient. Then she disappeared to a nearby but more remote spot, where she had spent the night outdoors. There, she pulled out her tent—one she no longer used and didn’t mind breaking in case the ninja woke up earlier than expected—and entered with the levitating body floating behind her. She laid him down on a stretcher she had transformed from her dining table.

“Damn it, again!?” she exclaimed when she saw that he had paled once more and the wound was still bleeding slowly.

Then she noticed the small purplish wound on his neck. That had to be whatever the guy had stabbed him with. Surely it was a needle or something similar. She didn’t have time to look for a diagnostic spell, so she made him swallow a bezoar with her magic, just in case it was some kind of poison. Then she gave him another blood-replenishing potion, undressed him down to his underwear, and cleaned him with magic. She didn’t want him dying from an infection after using so many valuable potions on him.

Once he was more or less stable, she knew she had to hurry and find those medical books. She had no idea what was wrong with him or what to do to keep him from dying, but considering they were in the west of the Land of Fire, far from any large cities or the ninja village, it was clear that this ninja’s best hope for survival was her. She almost laughed out loud at the realization.

“Let’s see... Diagnostic spell, diagnostic spell,” she murmured over and over while scanning the index of the healing book. It was a large compendium, so she hoped to find something quickly. “Aha! Diagnosio.”

The spell summoned a scroll that gradually began to fill. She quickly realized it was a complete medical history since birth—something she wasn’t interested in right now. She waited a minute until the scroll finally reached the end and read the technical terms describing a stab wound to the side. What worried her most, after decoding the medical jargon, was that the spleen seemed affected and there was a slight internal haemorrhage. Luckily, the diagnostic spell also indicated that the haemorrhage appeared to be subsiding, or at least stable. That was probably thanks to the two potions she had given him. And, just as she had suspected, he had been poisoned with an anticoagulant toxin.

Had she not been there, the stab wound would have been enough to kill him slowly. Fortunately for the Konoha ninja, fate had placed him in her path.

...

Her improvised rescue underwent a few changes as the hours passed and she realized what she had done.

On one hand, the ninja would wake up sooner or later. Harika had sworn not to get involved with ninjas and to keep her powers hidden from them, so unless she wanted to throw her plans out the window, she couldn’t let him see her magical tent. She had no choice but to go to the nearest village—a small one called Zanjo with barely 2,000 inhabitants—and look for a cabin or something similar to rent. Fortunately, money always opens many doors, and it only cost her a few thousand ryo to acquire a wooden cabin on the outskirts—one that had once been used as a ranger shelter and was now rundown.

On the other hand, she left the dead ninjas’ bodies where she had found them, though covered with a sheet. She could have kept them shrunk and transformed, but that would raise too many questions. It was better to tell her patient she had found him badly injured and had moved the bodies to prevent animals from eating them or something like that while he was unconscious.

As for the healing itself… the less said about it, the better. It was clear that if she wanted to become a healer in the magical world, she was going to need a lot of practice and study. Fortunately, she had plenty of books and potions—and one wounded person to practice on. It took a long while, but eventually her diagnostic spell confirmed her patient would live.

The bad news was that he still hadn’t woken up. She didn’t know whether it was because of the poison or simply due to exhaustion, but he had been sleeping for a whole day and still hadn’t opened his eyes. If it weren’t for her magic keeping him nourished and vanishing his urine... She didn’t even want to imagine how she’d catheterize someone without any medical knowledge. She shuddered just thinking about it.

She cleaned his clothes, but didn’t repair them. She prepared a bed for herself, a single one placed parallel to her patient’s, and lay down. The magical barriers would alert her to anything, so she relaxed on her bed, which she had transfigured from a couple of rotting wooden planks. She wasn’t sleepy, nor could she do anything else for the ninja, so she simply stared at the ceiling, her gaze unfocused, while thinking about everything that had happened in less than twenty-four hours. It was at that precise moment that she realized all that time had gone by without her thinking even once about going home, and although now she was thinking about it because she’d remembered it, strangely, she felt less sad. Ironically, feeling less sad for not having thought about her disappearance made her feel guilty. If Armand could read her mind right now, he would schedule another therapy session.

She sighed quietly, turning to her side to rest her aching back, and immediately her eyes fell on the man lying barely five feet away. She hadn’t paid much attention to him, considering he’d been nearly fatally stabbed, but now that he was out of danger and there was nothing to do, she found herself studying him with growing curiosity. He was the first ninja she’d seen this closely who hadn’t wanted to kill her upon meeting her.

She had to admit he was handsome. Not in a runway-model kind of way, but there was something strangely attractive about him. She had never been into men with long hair, and yet here she was, looking at an unconscious, half-naked man covered only by a sheet and a thin blanket. She had to admit that his brown hair, brushing freely against his muscled shoulders clearly shaped by training, his fine yet masculine features, and his lean but well-toned body were a gift to the eyes.

No one could deny that ninjas had impressive physiques—and this one had to be a very young adult. Like her. She couldn’t even imagine Draco Malfoy training his body day in and day out to the point of looking like an Olympic athlete, like the boy in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing, Harika?" she asked herself mentally, tearing her eyes away from her patient and returning her gaze to the ceiling.

She was acting like a schoolgirl. Just as she was scolding herself for her strange behaviour, the magical barriers alerted her that he was waking up. Without thinking twice, she turned her head to look at him. She lost her breath when her green eyes met a pair of hazel ones. They stared at each other without saying a word. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t have looked away. It was as if those almost feline eyes had her trapped. She saw in his expression almost the same surprise she herself was feeling. He didn’t even blink as he studied her like—... she didn’t know what, or what he had seen in her eyes, but something had happened.

Then, she thought she saw a flicker of pain on his face and realized the potions must’ve worn off. She jumped up, aware that he was watching her the entire time. She rummaged through her potion kit and offered him the appropriate vial, but he didn’t take it.

"I’m not going to poison you. Look," she said, taking a sip of the potion herself. "See?"

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything until he tried to sit up to take the potion. Before he could hurt himself further—considering the stab had been to his side—she was at his side, sitting on the bed and carefully lifting his torso. It was the first time she had touched him while he was awake, and not with the intention of healing him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders to help him sit up, placing her hand on his left shoulder to support him. The moment she touched him, a tingling sensation spread across her skin, and their eyes met again. This time... just inches apart.

She avoided swallowing nervously. She held out the vial, wondering whether he would accept it or try to inspect it first. To her surprise, he took it gently and drank it without flinching. Clearly, ninjas were built differently; it had taken her nearly eight years to get used to the nauseating taste of potions.

As soon as he drank it, he exhaled. His expression relaxed slightly, and she noticed, realizing he must’ve been in pain this whole time without her knowing. Maybe she frowned more than usual, or maybe her eyes gave her away, because to her astonishment, he seemed to have figured out what she had just realized, and comforted her with barely two words.

"I’m better."

Harika didn’t startle, though she’d be lying if she said her heart hadn’t skipped a beat or two at hearing his voice so close. Curiously, he slowly lay back down, facing the ceiling just like before, but with his right arm brushing her knees on the bed. She tucked him in with the sheet and then the blanket, adjusting the covers on each side to keep him warm. When she looked up, she realized he’d been watching her with increasingly heavy, but bright, eyes—as if he was thinking about something. She smiled with amusement when she noticed he was fighting off sleep.

"Sleep," she whispered. "I’ll take care of you. I promise."

His eyelids slowly closed over the eyes that had been staring at her until, finally, he drifted off again. Harika realized she was still sitting on his bed, beside him, watching over this stranger like he was a lifelong friend, and once again, it hit her that she had forgotten—again—about her small, big problem. If he hadn’t closed his eyes, if he hadn’t broken the spell of his gaze on her… would she have remembered again that she was a stranger in this world? She lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what on earth was happening to her...

Chapter 9: Part I - IX

The man's name turned out to be Shikamaru. It was the first thing he told her when he woke up the next morning, feeling much better than the day before, though still sore from his wounds. Harika gave him another potion and he drank it without hesitation, despite her raised eyebrow.

"If you had wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it already. And if you needed something from me, you wouldn’t kill me."

"Hmmm…" she murmured, surprised by his composure. He was completely confident in his deduction. "You’re smart."

Her guest’s upper lip stretched into a small smile that made him look even more attractive, if that were possible. There was nothing more intriguing than a man confident in his abilities.

"I get that a lot."

"Do they also tell you you’re humble?"

Shikamaru laughed out loud for a second. Then he stopped abruptly, as if surprised that he had laughed. Still, his lips twitched briefly as if trying to suppress another laugh. Shikamaru’s hazel eyes seemed much brighter when he laughed, and she, who couldn’t help but notice every little detail about him, told him so.

"You should laugh more often."

He blinked, considering her honest words. He mulled something over for a few minutes. She wasn’t sure what about her comment had struck him so deeply, but it was clear he was thinking hard. Finally, he sighed. It was the same sigh she had heard in the clearing, when he had been fighting that other ninja surrounded by the bodies of his teammates. Then, as if it pained him to admit it, he spoke in a low voice while staring out the cabin’s open window.

"There’s often nothing to laugh about."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, curious and surprised.

"For no reason."

Shikamaru’s slightly bitter expression surprised her even more. He seemed truly worn down by something he didn’t want to share. She wasn’t surprised—they were still strangers—but even so, she wanted to distract him from whatever it was.

"My name is Harika."

"...Harika," Shikamaru whispered under his breath, then looked at her intently. "Thank you for saving me. And for healing me."

"You’re welcome. I told you I’d take care of you."

Shikamaru examined her carefully once more. Then he tried sitting up again, and she helped him. He opened his mouth for a second, then closed it. Harika had the strange feeling he had been about to refuse her help, but in the end, he allowed her to lift him by the shoulders as she examined the reddish wound at his side. When she looked up from the wound, she found herself face-to-face with Shikamaru’s hazel eyes, which were once again fixed on her with an unreadable expression. Only then did she realize he was still half-naked and cleared her throat to speak. This time, she composed herself much faster than the day before.

"I washed your clothes. There’s only cold water, but I can heat some if you want to clean up a bit."

"Thanks."

She nodded. She got up from the bed to turn around when a hand caught hers mid-motion. She turned to look back at him over her shoulder, surprised, and saw his serious face.

"You saved my life, but you put yourself in danger. Why?"

"Do you think I could let someone die if I could do something about it?"

"You could’ve helped him. We’re both, or were, ninjas."

"He was trafficking humans," she hissed at the memory. Shikamaru seemed to understand everything from that one phrase.

"And what makes you think I wouldn’t do the same, if paid and ordered?"

"Would you?" she asked, turning fully to face him with her full attention.

"...No."

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Shikamaru blinked, surprised, and let go of her hand. Harika sometimes hated Dumbledore, but some of his wisdom was undeniable. Shikamaru and the other ninja were both shinobi, but clearly with different morals. She had seen it in his expression when he looked with sorrow at the bodies of his teammates, or when his words brimmed with determination as he spoke of the criminal facing justice in prison rather than vengeance. She didn’t know Shikamaru, but actions spoke far louder than words. He could’ve killed that man when he had him pinned with his powers, but he didn’t—because Shikamaru was just.

She left him to wash while she finished preparing the food. She knew it would take time for him to recover from his wounds, especially since she hadn’t healed him completely. It would be hard to explain how a stab wound had vanished overnight, so she had to use a stitching spell to make it look like the work of a civilian. She liked him and found him attractive, but Shikamaru was still a stranger.

"What happened to my teammates? To the other ninja?"

"I left them in the clearing, covered up. I imagine they’re still there."

Shikamaru nodded seriously, once again dressed in his uniform and armed, except for the stiff green vest. It probably didn’t sit well against his wound. A part of her felt disappointed to see his hair tied up again, but she had to admit that the tight black turtleneck sweater was just as attractive. In fact, now that she saw him dressed like the ninja he was, she realized just how handsome he truly was—like it had slapped her in the face.

She sighed, pushing aside the strange thoughts, and sat across from Shikamaru on her own bed. She handed him a tray with food, having another one for herself, and they began to eat. She wondered what would happen now, what had led to the deadly confrontation, what had happened to the trafficked people... She burned with curiosity but knew how irritating it was to be questioned and have people pry into her business, so she bit her tongue.

She looked at him with interest, but silently. Still, that seemed to be enough for Shikamaru because he looked up from his food, as if he knew she was staring, and locked eyes with her. Then he smiled a tiny smile and gave a soft snort of laughter.

"At this rate, steam’s going to come out of your ears."

"That’s not true!"

"Whatever you say..." he snorted again, eating another bite of chicken and rice. "I know you’re dying of curiosity."

"Anyone would be curious."

"I assure you, most civilians would’ve run for their lives instead of asking how I ended up stabbed in the side."

"Most civilians," she agreed with a shrug. She was a witch. "I’m not."

Shikamaru watched her silently for a few seconds and nodded as well.

"Yeah. I’ve figured out you’re not like the others. No civilian would’ve cared, or bothered... or been stupid enough to spy on my fight and then drag my half-dead body hundreds of meters through the forest."

"Hey! Let’s see who patches up your next stab wound."

"Who says you’ll be around for the next one?" Shikamaru smiled, amused by her words.

"Who says I don’t know how to use kitchen knives?" she shot back with scorn and amusement. "I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I know where you sleep."

Shikamaru laughed again, a short chuckle. Unlike before, this time he didn’t immediately stop, surprised at himself for laughing. Instead, he kept laughing quietly. He looked at her with something in his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher before turning his gaze back to his plate.

They finished their food in a comfortable silence, with nothing else to say. Harika picked up the trays and stood with the intention of taking them to the tiny wooden kitchen. Before she could take a single step away from the bed, a hand grabbed her shoulder and another her waist. She let out a small gasp as she was pulled down onto her back on the bed. She instantly realized what had happened when she saw Shikamaru’s face just inches from hers, his arms on either side of her head.

"I know where you sleep too," he challenged, unblinking. "You should be more careful."

Harika didn’t scream or move, stunned. They had been joking, but this... Shikamaru was warning her. No. He was tempting her, like a predator. He was underestimating her. She swallowed a smile. She raised her left hand, brushing Shikamaru’s clothed torso with her fingertips, watching as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at her touch, until she cupped his face. For a few seconds, they looked into each other's eyes without saying a word. Shikamaru didn’t move away from her hand, nor did he lean into it. He simply... accepted her touch. Her other hand...

She slowly lifted her head. Their faces drew closer and closer, so close that her nose brushed his just before her lips hovered beside his right ear.

"I’m not afraid of you," she whispered.

She felt Shikamaru’s erratic breath—something she would’ve missed if her lips hadn’t been so close to his ear. She would’ve liked to keep playing with him, but she was going to punish him for his audacity. Her other hand pinched the flesh near his side wound. The effect was immediate. Shikamaru let out a small cry of pain before rolling off of her. She saw him lie on the bed with a pained expression. After all, she hadn’t been gentle.

She stared at him, still lying on her bed, with a small smile. Eventually, Shikamaru caught his breath and turned to look at her. Only then did she get up and pick up the trays that had fallen to the floor.

"Maybe I was stupid for saving your life as a... civilian," she said, smiling and trying not to laugh at the thought, "but it looks like I’m not the only idiot around here."

She washed the dishes and stepped out of the cabin. She wasn’t angry or worried, but she needed to get away for a bit to pull herself together. The moment she questioned why she felt the need to distance herself, she realized it was because she was aroused. It didn’t take her long to realize it: her trembling legs, dry mouth, racing heart, and goosebumps made it obvious.

She really wasn’t right in the head. Who gets turned on after being grabbed like that? When it wasn’t even flirting but more like a display of danger? She thought of any regular civilian—one of the many she’d met in her travels—and imagined spending the night with them. And she realized she didn’t feel any excitement. Was it danger that aroused her—or was it Shikamaru himself? A voice in her mind answered instantly... both.

She sat in the grass, leaning against the wooden cabin’s facade, and gazed at the darkening sky. Soon she’d see stars overhead, and night would fall. But in the meantime, she meditated as she watched the clouds. At least, she tried to until the door opened a few meters away. She didn’t turn to look at Shikamaru, but she heard his slow footsteps.

Then, surprisingly, he sat beside her, just inches away. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he was also staring at the clouds with a contemplative expression and unfocused eyes. Since he didn’t meet her gaze, she turned back to the sky to continue her meditation. Strangely, despite everything that had just happened, she didn’t feel uneasy sitting beside him. Even knowing how fast he could move—and how easily he could hurt her, even wounded. In silence, they watched the sunset side by side for a long time.

"About earlier..." Shikamaru admitted eventually, without looking at her. "Maybe I am an idiot. I’m sorry."

"It’s fine as long as you don’t do it again."

"Got it."

Harika turned her head to look at him more clearly, seeing that he was suppressing a smile—when suddenly, the distinct smell of blood hit her.

"Are you bleeding?" she asked, alarmed.

"...Just a little."

"Let me see the wound."

Shikamaru sighed wearily, but he turned to sit in front of her and lifted his dark blue sweater, showing her the bleeding injury. She saw he had replaced the gauze she had given him with a new one, probably while he’d been alone in the cabin. She removed the gauze and saw that one of the stitches had torn—exactly where she’d pinched him. Realizing she had hurt him, despite defending herself, she felt a sharp pang of guilt.

"Hey. It’s not your fault," Shikamaru said with a shrug. "I deserved it."

Harika met his gaze, shaking her head, but realizing that Shikamaru had expected the pain.

"If I had wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have healed you."

"…"

She felt Shikamaru’s contemplative stare on her face as she fixed the mess she’d made. Luckily, it was just one stitch. She disinfected the wound and rebandaged it, wiping away the dried blood on his side. Shikamaru let her work in silence, though he didn’t miss a single detail. Paranoia had to be an intrinsic trait in a ninja as she felt intensely observed.

"Take off the sweater. I’ll wash it again. In the meantime, I’ll leave you one of my biggest hoodies."

And that’s how Shikamaru undressed in front of her—or at least tried to. The moment she saw the slight grimace of pain as he raised his arms, Harika quickly helped him pull it off. He let her, saying nothing, so she tried not to blush seeing his bare torso. Again. Although this time, he was awake.

"I need to go retrieve the bodies," Shikamaru said abruptly.

Harika sighed, knowing it was true.

"I imagine you remember where I found you," she said. He nodded with a faint smile. "Of course you do…"

"I’ll be back. I’m not in any condition to return to Konoha with this wound. I’d like to stay a few more days... if that’s okay."

"Of course."

She avoided telling him that she’d bought the cabin specifically to take care of him. She didn’t know how he’d react—or if he’d ask why she’d done such a thing for a stranger. She wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated, so she kept her mouth shut and went back inside the cabin. She rummaged through her things for a sweater and discreetly enlarged it so Shikamaru could wear it. She didn’t have any men’s clothes on hand, so he’d have to make do.

The moment she turned around, she jumped slightly to find him standing right behind her, still as a statue. He was staring at her, studying her with a neutral expression but intense eyes. She swallowed hard, realizing he would need help putting the hoodie on. She pulled it over his head, and he managed to get one arm through, then let her help with the arm on his injured side. She accidentally brushed her fingers against his side and felt his skin goosebump instantly.

She turned away so he wouldn’t see her swallow again, picking up the trays she hadn’t washed earlier during her tactical escape from the cabin.

"I’ll be back later," Shikamaru said behind her.

She heard him step out of the cabin and disappear into the forest. She glanced sideways at the vest he hadn’t put on and saw his ninja headband as well. Had he left them behind to blend in? While thinking about everything that had happened that day, she leaned on the sturdy wooden counter, eyes fixed on the metal faucet, breathing deeply, only to realize she probably wasn’t the only one feeling that strange pull. It was obvious from the way he had looked at her a few times, even if she had doubted whether he was attracted to her or just analysing her as a stranger. But when she felt his skin bristle under her fingers just minutes ago—only for a second—she knew she’d been lying to herself.

"Perfect…" she muttered in her native tongue. "The first guy who isn’t one of my fans that seems attracted to me and that I’m attracted to and he turns out to be from another bloody dimension. Ugh!"

She threw herself onto the bed, barely holding in a frustrated squeal. Why was she even thinking about this? Why was she wondering if they were attracted to each other when her main goal was to get out of here? She was definitely losing her mind. And yet... she remembered how normal and comforting it had felt to sit beside Shikamaru in silence while watching the sunset. She almost blushed at the memory, and then immediately felt guilty for enjoying it when she should be researching how to return home.

What the hell was she thinking? There could be nothing with Shikamaru because she had to go back. She couldn’t let her loved ones think she had disappeared or died for the rest of their lives. She didn’t want to leave her family in another dimension forever. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her days in this world not knowing what would become of them.

Besides, she had just met Shikamaru. Not to mention he represented everything she’d been trying to avoid: he was a ninja, a citizen of a major nation, and, based on what she’d seen, smart enough to suspect she wasn’t entirely a civilian. She was screwed. Just thinking about spending a few more days together while he recovered...

Her wards alerted her before she could hear him.

"Are you done already?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed, with nothing else to do.

Shikamaru nodded with a sigh. She wondered how he had... handled the situation, considering he didn’t seem to have brought the bodies or their belongings. Her curiosity must have been obvious because Shikamaru lazily lay down on his bed, carefully, and looked up at the ceiling.

"I sealed them inside some ninja scrolls."

"...You mean you can put all kinds of things, including corpses, inside scrolls?" she asked in astonishment.

They were muggles but somehow had used chakra to create something she would consider magical. Wow. If Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy—or any of those snobs who thought themselves superior for being pure-blooded wizards—had known, they’d probably foam at the mouth from sheer rage. Just imagining it made her burst into laughter, and once she started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until she cried, picturing it.

"What’s so funny?" asked Shikamaru, a small smile on his lips, propping his head up on one arm to watch her laugh like a lunatic.

"N-nothing, nothing… I just remembered something."

Shikamaru chuckled, and she calmed down. She wiped away her tears, realizing it had been a long time since she had laughed that hard. She looked at Shikamaru again, who was watching her with a peculiar light in his eyes and a small closed-mouth smile, and cleared her throat.

"I’m really sorry about your teammates."

"Thanks. Being a ninja is dangerous, but still… it always hurts when a comrade dies."

"Why did you choose to become a ninja?"

"..." Shikamaru looked up at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze, and seemed to think carefully. "My clan is a ninja clan. I never really considered doing anything else."

"Expectations suck."

They looked at each other for a second, understanding one another, and then Shikamaru sighed.

"They do."

"It took me a long time to be able to do what I want," she confessed, lying back on her own bed. "For a while, I barely knew what to do with my new freedom."

"And now?"

"Now maybe I don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life, but at least, whatever I choose, it’ll be my choice," Harika smiled, staring up at the wooden ceiling.

They stayed silent for a long while. The sun had completely set, but moonlight streamed in through the open windows. She was too lazy to get up and light the lamps, so she didn’t. It wasn’t like they had anything to do. Shikamaru must have thought the same, because he stayed on his bed, meditating with his eyes closed. She knew he wasn’t asleep by his breathing. That, and the barrier she had placed around his bed. She wasn’t completely stupid.

"And what would you do if you couldn’t choose what to do with your life? What if it felt like everything in your life was already written in stone, and all you could do was follow what someone else had written for you?"

Shikamaru’s question caught her off guard. She could only make out his silhouette in the dim light. She didn’t know if his face was serious or blank, but his voice sounded… tired. Defeated. It reminded her of herself years ago—though she had felt angrier and more frustrated than tired. Shikamaru, unlike her, seemed to have given up in a way. She didn’t know how or why she sensed that, but she remembered that morning when he had laughed at something silly she said, then seemed surprised he had laughed at all.

Was Shikamaru tired of living the way he did? If his clan was full of ninjas, she could understand why he felt the need to become one, even if he hadn’t explicitly said he hated it. It would be like her, a witch from a magical family, burning her Hogwarts letter to go study at Smelting’s. Unthinkable. Even so, she didn’t think her situation was the same as Shikamaru’s: for her, Hogwarts had been an escape from the Dursleys. If Shikamaru’s family loved him, he probably wanted to be like them—and that meant being a ninja.

On the other hand, was Shikamaru talking about being a ninja… or something else entirely that she hadn’t guessed yet?

"Are you talking about your clan’s expectations for you to be a ninja? Or is there something else that’s keeping you from being happy?"

"...Good choice of words," said Shikamaru, not answering her question, in a carefully neutral voice. "I think I’ll try to sleep."

"Good night, Shikamaru."

"Good night, Harika."

Incredibly, Shikamaru fell asleep. Harika watched him for a few seconds before looking out the window. Something about her words had hurt him—or so she thought. She hadn’t meant it that way, but it was clear that Shikamaru had a few issues only he could solve. Even if it meant asking for help. What comforted her was that, somehow, he was aware of his problems. Otherwise, why ask something like that to a stranger?

Before falling asleep herself, she promised to try to help him in the short time they had together. It’s not like they could do much aside from talking, reading, or playing cards while he recovered before heading back to Konoha. Maybe Shikamaru’s presence would help her learn something about this world—something only a ninja would know—that could help her return home. Because one way or another, she was going to get back to her dimension, and Shikamaru to his home. No matter how weirdly sad that thought made her feel.

Chapter 10: Part I - X

It was Shikamaru's second day of recovery, and it hadn’t even taken five minutes for him to communicate through body language how bored he was, judging by his fifth sigh.

"I could go buy you something to keep you entertained," she rolled her eyes jokingly the moment she heard him sigh. "The village is right around the corner."

"I’ll come with you."

And so she found herself walking calmly next to Shikamaru, heading toward the village. He was wearing the only clothes he had, his ninja uniform, but had left the headband behind to go more unnoticed. She glanced at him sideways, shaking her head with a smile at how relaxed he looked.

"If you can walk on your own, why haven’t you returned to your village yet?"

"Just because I can walk doesn’t mean I won’t be in trouble if I run into more enemies. I’m on my own right now, and I’m not in good enough shape to just head home like that."

"You think more guys like that might come after you?"

"Could be."

"I guess it makes sense for you to recover before you go."

"Trying to get rid of me already?" Shikamaru glanced at her with a small smile.

"Don’t be ridiculous, Shikamaru."

"And what about you? Where are you from?"

"What makes you think I’m not from around here?"

Shikamaru looked at her more directly, saying nothing, and she knew he was analysing her. Judging by what little she knew of him, he had probably already picked up on a thousand little things that gave her away. She wasn’t surprised. Even she felt out of place among the villagers. Clothing and language could go a long way in hiding you from untrained eyes, but it wasn’t enough to fool a genius. If Shikamaru wasn’t a genius, she’d eat one of her boots. She’d only spent a couple of days with him—most of that time in silence for one reason or another—but it was obvious Shikamaru was Smart with a capital S.

In some ways, Shikamaru reminded her of Hermione, but unlike her friend’s well-documented brilliance, Shikamaru didn’t need to read fifty books to prove he was smarter than average. Everything he did exuded intellect without him even trying. Maybe that was the biggest difference between him and Hermione: her friend had always felt the need to prove herself beyond all limits. She remembered first-year Hermione nearly in tears because she couldn’t remember if she had written a name wrong on the history exam, and she knew she’d never see Shikamaru react the same way. It was clear Shikamaru had different priorities, and they certainly didn’t involve being number one academically or militarily.

Still, his intelligence wasn’t exactly helpful for her given the situation she was in. Shikamaru waited patiently, saying nothing, for her to answer his question.

"Fine. I’m not from around here."

"Yeah. I’d already figured that out."

"I’m from very far away. You wouldn’t know the place I come from."

"Hmmm… You’re not lying. That’s interesting."

Harika sighed as she looked around at the stands and stalls selling all kinds of things, from food to toys. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shikamaru, hands in his pockets, gazing with a slightly melancholic smile at a board that looked like a chessboard, but clearly wasn’t. He didn’t make a move to pick it up or buy it, but it had clearly caught his attention. She browsed through the handmade porcelain mugs until her eyes landed on a white cup with a wavy shape, decorated extravagantly with lilacs and geraniums. It reminded her so much of Luna, with its bright colours and odd style, that it made her throat tighten.

"You like it?" Shikamaru asked, a mix of curiosity and confusion in his voice.

"It reminds me of something one of my friends would buy. I’ll take it."

They said nothing more while she carefully stored her new mug in her backpack. Then she saw him looking at a clothing store a little further down.

"I think I’ll buy some clothes. I only have this one set left intact."

"All right. I’ll wait here."

Shikamaru nodded and walked down the street. She continued browsing the tables full of goods until her eyes landed again on the open-air stall full of carved wooden objects. The older man, with expert, calloused hands and a kind face, smiled when he saw her inspecting the board Shikamaru had been eyeing earlier.

"I knew that board would sell today," the old man said. "Is it a gift for your man?"

"He’s not my- I was just looking. I’ve never seen a board like this before."

"It’s a collector’s piece. Anyone who works with wood would know that. A board like this is the kind that gets passed down from parent to child. Trust me."

"I’ll take it."

She didn’t even negotiate the price. It’s not like she was short on money. She didn’t know why she bought it, but she remembered Shikamaru’s smile and the words he’d said the other night. What would she do if she couldn’t decide what to do with her life? That’s what he had asked her. He hadn’t said it outright, but through his questions, Shikamaru had hinted at what he was feeling.

"And what would you do if you couldn’t decide what to do with your life? What would you do if practically everything about your life seemed carved in stone, and you could only follow the path someone else had written for you?"

Those words had echoed in her mind more than once since she heard them, because in a way, Shikamaru reminded her of herself before she broke free and flew on her own. He hadn’t said directly that he felt trapped, but he hadn’t needed to. Something about his life didn’t sit right with him, and it was clear he didn’t know what to do about it. Harika realized that it was entirely possible that Shikamaru couldn’t change his life, even if he knew exactly what was making him miserable.

She hadn’t quite known how to respond to his deep question. She’d asked whether it was the expectations of his clan holding him back, or if there was something else stopping him from being happy. It had been a sincere, if naïve, question—one that had hurt Shikamaru enough for him to abruptly end the conversation. Not because her words had offended him, but because he had realized she believed he was unhappy. It had taken her hours to figure out what she’d said that upset him, and she’d finally realized.

Harika hadn’t said directly that she could see his unhappiness, but it had been close enough. And if she, a total stranger, could see it, then it probably meant Shikamaru was even more unhappy than he admitted to himself. Being a genius, he had likely pieced that together in less than a minute. And to think she had spent hours chewing over every word, trying to figure out what she had done wrong…

She tucked the board into her backpack, realizing she felt a need to cheer him up, even if it was just with a board game. Maybe because that was all she could do. She didn’t know anything about Shikamaru—not his life, not his preferences… She didn’t know how to help him the way others had helped her out of her own depression. But what she could do was be there for him, for as long as they were together, and try to distract him.

She saw him come out of the store, holding a fabric bag likely full of new clothes, and wondered why she was doing so much for him. Yes, it upset her to see someone suffer the way she had been left to suffer, but Shikamaru was a stranger. Hell, was she doing all this because she liked him? No, she told herself, she just wanted to help him while she could. That was all. She tried to convince herself of her motives as they walked back to the cabin, in a comforting silence.

Shikamaru changed into new clothes, setting aside his only clean uniform for another day. She blinked when she saw him dressed in fitted black pants and a snug, high-collared sweater. Oh my god… She quickly looked away, scolding herself. At this rate, Shikamaru was going to figure out she was attracted to him… if he hadn’t already. She felt her face heat up and knew she was turning as red as a tomato. She cursed silently, suddenly nervous, and began preparing some snacks with her back turned to him.

Thankfully, she calmed down just enough to go pale again as the kettle whistled with boiling water.

"Tea?"

"Yes, thanks."

She felt Shikamaru’s sharp eyes on her face as she prepared his cup of tea. She avoided looking at him until necessary, not wanting her hands to tremble embarrassingly. She handed him the cup without meeting his gaze. Just as she was about to pass him the plate of pastries, he had the same idea, and their fingers collided. She accidentally looked up, meeting Shikamaru’s alert eyes, which were already watching her.

"Sorry," he said easily, without elaborating, placing the plate between them.

She nodded, saying nothing about it. Better not to add fuel to the fire, she thought. Then she remembered the board she had bought. She saw Shikamaru raise the cup to his lips, now more distracted, so she cleared her throat.

"I bought something to keep you from getting bored," she smiled as he looked at her again.

She walked over to the bed, where she had left her bag, and turned her back to him as she pulled the board out of her backpack. She knew it was silly to try to hide something like that, but she hoped Shikamaru was distracted enough not to question her unusual behaviour.

She handed him the wooden box containing the board and the pieces, noticing Shikamaru blink in mild surprise. As soon as he lifted the lid and saw what it was, his eyes returned to her with something in them she couldn’t identify. Surprise? Curiosity? She watched as he picked up a beautifully carved cherrywood piece, rolling it between his fingers with a small smile.

"A shogi board?"

"Is that what it is?"

"You don’t know what it is?" Shikamaru asked suddenly, making her blink, observing her face with something she couldn’t describe again. Then he cleared his throat. "So, you’ve never played?"

"No, although, if it’s what I think, I’ve played something similar."

"If you want… I could teach you," Shikamaru offered, looking at her intently with a small smile.

"Sure! I can’t wait to beat you!"

Shikamaru couldn’t help but laugh, genuinely surprised now, before shaking his head. And so, she found herself listening to a more energetic, enthusiastic Shikamaru as he explained the rules of the game and talked about the times he had used this or that strategy against his father. Harika could only nod, pretending she fully understood, while trying not to smile too widely at how happy he looked.

"You can’t make that move!" Shikamaru burst out laughing, sitting across from her on the other side of the board.

"Says who?"

"The actual rules of the game."

Harika snorted a laugh, tossing her piece onto the board. It was clear that shogi was harder than chess—or maybe she was just terrible at it. They played for hours while chatting about all sorts of things.

Shikamaru first told her about his father, who introduced him to shogi, and then about his teacher Asuma, whom he also played with often. He told her about his team, his ninja companions Chouji and Ino, and his academy friends. He spoke of Konoha and even laughed while recounting a couple of childhood missions that now seemed amusing to him.

Harika listened closely, smiling unintentionally when he smiled, or laughing alongside him as she imagined an 11-year-old Shikamaru going through those ninja adventures.

"My dad would love this board…" he finally admitted, moving a piece. "Thanks for the gift."

"You’re welcome."

"Why did you buy it?"

Harika looked up at him, pondering what to say until she realized there was nothing embarrassing about telling the truth. She was tired of lies and half-truths.

"The other day, you asked me something… I’ve been thinking about our conversation and I realized there’s little I can do to help you. I don’t know you, not really, but maybe I’m starting now. I don’t know what you truly feel inside… All I can do with what I have is cheer you up and distract you."

Shikamaru opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Clearly struggling to speak, he frowned. He stared at the board for a while, unfocused, holding a piece in his hand, until he finally spoke.

"I’m bored with my life," he said bluntly, "and yet… not. Since I was born, my path was to become a ninja. I’m the clan heir—what else would I be? The funny thing is, even though I like being a ninja, I also hate that I didn’t get to choose it. When we graduated from the academy, Ino spent the whole day nervous and excited to see which team she’d get, but not me. You know why?"

"Because you already knew…"

"Exactly. I feel like my life is predestined. I like what happens in it most of the time, but I haven’t chosen any of it. I became a chunin because my team entered the exams because the others in my class entered. I forfeited my match and still got promoted. You know why? Because it was obvious I’d be promoted eventually, so why not sooner—even if I didn’t finish the match, right? I feel trapped… and guilty. Does that make any sense? I like my life, but I hate not being the one to choose what happens in it. And at the same time, I feel guilty for being unhappy when I like my life."

“…”

Shikamaru shook his head, taking a deep breath, while she listened silently.

"The other day you asked if there was something keeping me from being happy. I thought about it, too, and I figured out that the problem is me. I’m used to going with the flow, letting others lead me wherever without making big decisions. My dad does it with my mom at home, and I get it. I understand why. He uses all his energy keeping the village safe, so when he comes home, he lets her make all the decisions because he’s tired. I’ve followed his example my whole life, letting others steer everything and that’s what’s led me here."

"But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Now you’ve realized what’s happening, and you can change it. Maybe it took you some time, but now you know what to do."

Shikamaru looked out the window for a few minutes before turning back to her, a calmer smile on his lips than the ones before.

"It’s going to be troublesome… but yeah. I’ll need to think more deeply about it, but strangely enough, I don’t feel like I did two days ago," he said. She saw how tired he looked, despite his realization, and knew what to do.

"You know what you need?"

"What?"

Harika stood up from across the board and walked to his side. Shikamaru watched her curiously until she hugged him. He froze in her arms, clearly stunned, until he finally relaxed. His arms wrapped around her, first awkwardly, then firmly, pulling her close. She let him bury his face in her neck, hiding from the world for a moment. She stroked his hair, holding him tightly in return.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but she realized that even though she thought it was what he needed, it made her feel better too. She might be far from home, but she wasn’t alone, and right now, she was grateful for Shikamaru’s company.

The only thing that made her reluctantly get up was the pain in her knees. Shikamaru didn’t seem uncomfortable, but she wasn’t a ninja.

"It’s not that I want to stop hugging you, but my knees hurt," she whispered.

Shikamaru chuckled against her neck. He said nothing for a few seconds, though he had clearly heard her. Finally, he sighed reluctantly and raised his head. They looked at each other for a few moments, just inches apart. She resisted swallowing hard as she realized that, for a brief instant, it felt like they might kiss. She wasn’t a ninja, but she had seen the way Shikamaru’s eyes lingered on her lips as he studied her face. The moment passed. She felt his hand on her cheek just as he kissed the other one.

"Thank you, Harika. That was exactly what I needed."

He helped her up from the floor, and they put the board away.

That night, she went to sleep with her heart racing. He hadn’t kissed her, but she’d seen the tenderness in his eyes. That should be enough, she supposed. A small part of her, though, wished he had kissed her…

The following days were a countdown to when Shikamaru would leave her. He seemed to have improved from his depression and showed curiosity about her, constantly asking her questions.

"And you say you’re not from here?"

"No."

"Are you from a small country?"

"Uh… no. More like a faraway place. Extremely far."

"Far across the sea?"

"No. I don’t know," she finally said, frowning. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, and she could practically see his brain working overtime. "The thing is, I got lost."

"You’re trying to find your way back home," he stated with certainty. She nodded. "Any luck?"

"No. I’ve been searching for weeks, but nothing..."

"You’ll find it."

"What makes you think that?"

"If there’s a way in, there has to be a way out."

Harika stopped in her tracks. It was something she had thought of herself, but the fact that Shikamaru, without even knowing the whole story, had come to the same conclusion… it made her feel more confident. She smiled at her new friend, silently thanking him for giving her hope.

"You’re a genius, Shikamaru." Surprisingly, she saw Shikamaru’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

She spent the next few days telling him what she could about her life. She spoke about her friends, her enemies—she told him about Tom… She twisted her words to avoid mentioning magic, though it wasn’t necessary when talking about the man who murdered her parents.

"In the end, I killed him. It was almost an accident," she confessed, "but I’m glad he’s dead. That man ruined a lot of lives, mine included. I hope he rots in hell."

"But why would he go after a child?"

"Because of a prophecy."

"What?" Shikamaru asked, suddenly stopping mid-carrot slice. "A prophecy?"

"Yes. I don’t really believe in them, but he did. He was so terrified that anything or anyone might kill him that he wanted to eliminate me before I became a threat."

"I see… He acted pre-emptively. Funny thing is, from what I gather, his pre-emptive strike led to his death, didn’t it?"

"What do you mean?"

"If he hadn’t killed your parents or tried to hunt you down for years, what reason would you have had to go after him? You’d have just been another teenager. Maybe he would’ve been killed by a soldier or someone trained for it—but not you. The very thing he tried to prevent ended up happening," Shikamaru chuckled dryly. "Ironic."

Almost a week later, Shikamaru said the words she least wanted to hear.

"I’m practically healed now."

"…"

"You’re going back to Konoha today," she stated, knowing it was true. He nodded. "Then let me prepare some food for your trip."

"Harika… why don’t you come with me?"

Shikamaru’s question hung in the air. Harika hadn’t really accepted that he’d leave her, nor had she imagined she might go with him to Konoha. That ninja had kidnapped her because of her powers… What would happen if she walked into the lion’s den? Would she be able to come and go freely to continue her research? Would someone discover her powers? What would happen if—when—she made a mistake and a ninja with hawk eyes caught her?

The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to travel to Konoha. She was worried about the fact that physically, she was weaker compared to a ninja. She still didn’t have a strategy to defend herself, and until then, she knew it was a very bad idea to accept Shikamaru’s request—even though she wanted to. Shikamaru seemed to understand this from her silence, since he sighed, looking sadder than before but completely resigned.

"I knew you weren’t going to say yes."

"I’m sorry. I want to, but…"

"You can’t."

"Not yet."

"Yet…"

The conversation faded away as Shikamaru slowly gathered his things, as if he didn’t want to leave. Harika helped him with the food and water. She handed him the canteen once more, now full, and their fingers brushed just like days ago. Their eyes met, and this time Shikamaru didn’t hide the way his gaze travelled across her face until it landed on her lips. She didn’t move or say anything, like prey frozen and silent, waiting to be devoured—but he didn’t do it. He swallowed visibly and then accepted the canteen. Harika stayed silent, although she felt a sting of disappointment and sadness that surprised her.

"Do me a favour and don’t leave the Land of Fire," Shikamaru asked a while later, now fully dressed in his uniform with his backpack strapped to his back.

"I will."

"Promise me?"

"I promise, Shikamaru."

"We’ll see each other again," he promised, raising a hand and caressing her cheek. "I swear."

Then, before she could realize what was happening, he hugged her—gently but firmly—as if he didn’t want to let go. The hug was brief but intense. She didn’t even have time to savor being in his arms before Shikamaru released her and turned away quickly, raising a hand over his head as he walked off. Harika watched him go, eyes full of tears, wondering why she was crying over a man she had only known for seven days.

Chapter 11: Part II - I

His return home was incredibly anticlimactic. He had sent the scroll with the corpses of his dead squad days ago, so he had missed the funerals while he “recovered.” It was the first time he had lied about his medical condition, and he had done it to stay with her a little longer. It was also the first time a woman had intrigued him.

His walk through the forest was slow and tedious. He was nearly dragging his feet. He stopped abruptly when he realized it was because he didn’t want to leave the cabin in the middle of the woods. He looked back, even though he could no longer see it, and thought about her. It had only been seven days, but everything had changed. He felt strange, renewed… awake. It was as if, until that very moment, he hadn’t been aware of his own life, and now he found himself with the reins in his hands, not knowing what to do with them. He knew why he felt this way.

As he had confessed to Harika, he had always preferred to go along with the decisions of others, emulating his father. His father was his idol, so it made sense why he had used his image as a guide, but a part of him hadn’t realized that living his life this way, while easy and comfortable, also limited him. His life was a copy of his father’s or at least it was starting to dangerously resemble it. Why was he so bitter if he was just imitating someone he admired and respected? Now he knew the answer. It was because Shikamaru, unlike his father, didn’t want to settle. And that was exactly what he had been doing for years.

He hadn’t realized how non-conforming he really was. In fact, he was still surprised to find such a trait in himself. He had always thought he was lazy and easily content, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. He had been wandering through life because he didn’t know what he wanted from it but now he did.

He recalled those emerald eyes set in a pale, delicate face, smooth as silk. In just seven days he had memorized as much as he could about her, correctly deducing they would have to part—at least for a while—within a few days. He had studied her shiny, black, curly hair; he had admired her elegant, feminine form under the sheets as she slept, the curve of her full lips, the long lashes casting shadows on her high cheekbones...

He had opened his eyes that night and been instantly captivated by her gentle, curious gaze. Harika would never know how hard he fought sleep the first time he saw her, desperate to keep looking at her. He was surprised to realize that a civilian woman, a stranger, had cared so much about him that she risked her life and opened her home’s door. Her concern for him had been so obvious, so genuine, that he couldn't help but comfort her with a few words before falling unconscious. It was the first time he had ever felt the need to comfort someone.

He remembered her promise with a smile, now knowing that Harika had meant it when she said she would take care of him. He also remembered how he had pushed her onto the bed, trapping her between his arms for a few intense seconds… He had wanted to show her she couldn’t be so naïve, that she needed to protect herself and yet she hadn’t even blinked when their eyes collided violently. His intention had been to warn her about danger, but as soon as he had her beneath him, with his hands on either side of her face, he completely forgot what he’d been thinking. He, a genius, with a blank mind.

He could almost feel those ghostly lips brushing his cheek, reaching his ear.

"I’m not afraid of you."

His body hair stood on end again at the memory of the electricity he had felt in that moment. If she hadn’t pinched his wound in rebuke, he would have kissed her. No. He would have devoured her lips, just like he had wanted to from the first moment. A weight settled in his chest, and he realized he was feeling need. He almost turned back. Only after breathing deeply a few times, closing his eyes and forcing himself to stop thinking about that bittersweet moment, could he restrain the urge to run in the opposite direction of Konoha.

Harika had helped him realize what he wanted and what he didn’t want in life, something he had never been able to discover until now. He didn’t want someone to control his life like he was a puppet, he didn’t want someone stubborn and domineering, he didn’t want his personal life to be a constant battle for his independence, he didn’t want yelling or headaches. That was exactly what his mother represented—to his father and to him, to a lesser extent—and it was exactly what he had assumed he’d have in the future. It was what he had expected. And he had expected that because he had been emulating his father. The cycle was finally complete. He finally saw everything clearly. He had never seen the light at the end of the tunnel before but now he did.

He wanted someone to laugh with, someone to watch the stars with and sleep under the clouds. He wanted someone with whom he wouldn’t have to fight for personal space, someone who could speed up his pulse with just a look and soothe his sorrow with a smile. He wanted someone genuine, someone he could talk to about everything and nothing, someone he could tell all his secrets to, someone who understood him… He wanted someone who could shake his whole world with a hug.

Harika had bought a shogi board without even knowing what she was buying. Simply because she had intuited it was important to him somehow. In that precise moment, another puzzle piece clicked into place, one that told him even more about her: Harika was the kind of person who risked her neck for strangers because she hated seeing them suffer, the kind of person who bought a ridiculous mug just because it reminded her of a friend or a shogi board to lift the spirits of a depressed stranger.

Understanding what kind of person she was, the woman he was completely smitten with, had driven him to confess his feelings of bitterness and guilt. And as he had guessed, she listened without judgment. She hugged him to give him strength. It was exactly what he needed. He remembered, smiling, the euphoria he had felt holding her in his arms, the feel of her soft neck skin against his lips and cheek. He remembered the floral and slightly spicy scent, her incredibly delicate perfume filling his nose. He wished he could have held her the entire night, and the moment he wished it… he wished for something even better: to fall asleep holding her in his arms.

That night, he fell asleep imagining what it would be like to return home to her every night, talking over a glass of wine or maybe tea before seeking refuge in bed for the rest of the night until the next dawn. Almost without realizing it, his mind fantasized about the scene. He pictured them eating dinner while talking about everything and nothing, sipping that glass of wine with her on his lap, stealing kisses when he couldn’t hold back… he pictured himself carrying her in his arms to their shared bed, undressing her, admiring her slender body on their white sheets before making love to her. That day he was thankful she had been asleep because his erection had been impossible to hide.

Shikamaru sighed, breathing unevenly. These were the most intense feelings he had ever experienced. He pitied his past self. The one who had stared at his bedroom ceiling countless times, bored to death and increasingly bitter. Now that he was free, he would never go numb again.

…

His return home brought with it a mountain of paperwork, an interrogation, and Naruto’s return to Konoha. Shikamaru had almost forgotten Naruto was coming back. Almost.

"Shikamaru!" Naruto shouted, waving his arm back and forth with way too much energy.

Curiously, his friend’s exuberance—something that had always exasperated and tired him—now felt almost comforting. Naruto hadn’t changed a bit.

"Hey, Naruto. Did you get back from your trip today?"

"Yeah! You're actually the first one I’ve seen."

"That’s lucky. I also just got back this morning from a mission."

"How’s everyone? Are they in the village? Did they miss me?" Naruto asked, blushing slightly as he bombarded him with questions.

"Why don’t we meet up this afternoon and you can find out for yourself?"

Naruto blinked, eyes wide at the suggestion. Shikamaru smiled. Until just a few days ago, he never would have proposed meeting up with friends himself, even though he deeply cared about them, but things had changed. He didn’t want to keep being the same old him, following the same patterns, so if things were to change, he logically had to act differently. Starting with his friends.

He had been thinking about it while chatting with Harika about their respective friends, and he realized he hadn’t been the best friend in the world. He only ever met up with them because Ino or Chouji dragged him to a restaurant or the onsen. His father had two best friends—Inoichi and Chouza—who were also his teammates, so seeing them required no effort. As Shikamaru didn’t want to keep blindly imitating Shikaku Nara, that meant he had to put in some effort to maintain his friendships.

That same afternoon, while walking to Chouji’s restaurant to reunite with Naruto and the others, he thought about what he needed to start doing in the short term to change. His first thought, of course, led straight to Harika. Incredibly, she had become something that occupied his mind constantly, either in the foreground or the background. He found it almost amusing to realize that nothing and no one had ever concerned him or, better said, occupied so much mental space.

Harika had promised she wouldn’t leave the Land of Fire, but Shikamaru knew that didn’t mean much on a larger scale, since she hadn’t promised not to leave the cabin. The same cabin that Harika had suspiciously bought the same day she found him poisoned and unconscious, according to the clothing shopkeeper he questioned when he’d separated from her for just ten minutes. It was clear the cabin wasn’t Harika’s home. If she bought that place, it was because she, very logically, didn’t trust taking him to her actual home. Harika had clearly taken more precautions than he had initially thought.

Judging by her clothing and high-quality belongings, it was easy to deduce she had money. Probably a lot. He didn’t care too much, except that it comforted him to know she could take care of herself. Still, the fact that she had money was inconvenient for him, because he knew she could move more easily across the map in search of clues to return home.

And that led to his real concern. Where was her home? Where did Harika come from? She wasn’t a ninja, but her behaviour, her actions, and her body language proved she wasn’t a civilian either. When faced with the danger he posed, she hadn’t reacted nervously or shown fear. No. In fact, she had smiled while stifling a laugh when he called her a civilian. It was obvious she found it amusing that he thought she was one.

Then there were the small and mysterious inconsistencies he had mentally listed as enigmas. Like the woman’s sweater—clearly hers—but suspiciously in a man’s size. Or the shogi board she had bought in the village, which somehow had reappeared in the cabin. Where had she kept that box of that size while they travelled back? The only thing she had carried was a small leather bag. So, either she had stored it there or carried the box invisibly… or had somehow shrunk it. He knew she hadn’t gone back to the village to buy the board because she had given it to him as soon as they arrived.

The mystery that Harika represented was the most interesting thing he had discovered in years. It was clear she had some kind of power or ninja knowledge. Her chakra was present, but she hadn’t used it when they were together. At least, he hadn’t detected it. That meant either she didn’t use chakra, or her understanding of chakra was greater than he had initially thought. He leaned more toward the former, judging by her interest when he spoke to her about his life as a ninja.

Not to mention the most intriguing thing of all. How had Harika managed to spy on his fight that day without any of the ninjas present noticing? Shikamaru knew what kind of poison those people used, so he should have bled out within 15 minutes, considering he had a stab wound in his side inflicted at the same moment he was poisoned. That meant either he had the luck of a lifetime and Harika had found him at the precise moment in the exact place to save him from certain death, or Harika had already been there, watching everything unfold.

He didn’t believe in coincidences. In fact, if he thought about the probability of Harika just randomly passing through that place, it was clearly slim to none. No. It was clear she had been spying on them. And it was also clear that none of them had sensed her. How, then, had she done it? Everything pointed to Harika having powers capable of distorting a ninja’s perception. It wasn’t entirely unusual, considering many people had unique abilities, but all of them were based on chakra, as far as he knew.

He would have to keep what he knew a secret because the last thing he wanted was to put her in danger. Especially when his intention was quite the opposite. He wanted to protect her. Just like she had promised to protect him. One way or another, the fact that she had powers both eased his worries and, somewhat ironically, worsened them. As long as Harika remained unnoticed, everything would be fine, but he needed to see for himself that she was safe.

That meant that, somehow, he had to find her again. Which brought him back to the first part of his plan. He needed to leave the village again so he could search for her. He needed a solo mission. As soon as he was assigned one, he would make sure to complete it as quickly as possible to have enough time before having to return to Konoha.

Which brought him to the second part of his plan… Helping her return home. It was obvious that Harika’s greatest concern was getting back home. That was one of the main reasons she hadn’t returned to Konoha with him. Still, Shikamaru believed that if she had been able to come and go freely, she would have accepted his offer. That meant that until she could see her family again and figure out how to return home, she wouldn’t be able to truly give herself to anyone. Not even to him.

However, Shikamaru wasn’t going to give up. He didn’t like relying on hunches, preferring logic, but something in his heart told him she was worth it. He had the strange feeling that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t at least try. He trusted logic, but he also wanted to trust his heart. It was time to finally listen to himself.

Even so, Shikamaru wasn’t the kind of person who made spontaneous decisions or stepped out of line. That was more Naruto or Ino’s style. He realized, as he listened to his friends heading to the restaurant, that maybe Naruto or Ino were much braver than he was. For the first time in his life, he was about to break the rules, or perhaps bend them a little, to pursue a selfish wish, and he was actually nervous. But even nervous, he couldn’t wait to start his new plan.

The sound of the paper door pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Wow! You’re the first to arrive," exclaimed Ino, quite surprised to see him already sitting at the large table, waiting for Chouji. "I thought I’d have to come get you."

"You mean drag me."

"I wouldn’t have to drag you if you moved your ass yourself!"

"Isn’t that what I did?" he sighed, with a smile that left Ino in shock.

"Well… yeah. Now that you mention it. You’re not dying, are you?"

Shikamaru let out a chuckle. "Not yet."

The room slowly filled until there was no more space at the table. If things had turned out differently, Sasuke would have been sitting between Sakura and Naruto. Unfortunately, things didn’t always go well.

"How was the trip, Naruto?"

"Did you learn much from Jiraiya-sama?"

"Bet you just slacked off the whole time!"

"HEY! That’s a lie! Why don’t we head to the training grounds later and I’ll show you?" Naruto grinned, pointing at Kiba.

Shikamaru let out another chuckle as he watched his friends chat with the newcomer. The meal passed quickly. There was a lot to talk about, memories to relive, things better left unsaid… It had been almost three years since Naruto left, and for better or worse, life had moved on.

He had become a jonin, alongside Neji, more than six months ago. The others had passed the chunin exams a year earlier. Gaara had become the Kazekage. Hard to believe that just three years ago they had tried to invade them…

"How everything has changed…" Naruto said with a melancholy smile.

"It’s been years."

"But now you’re here," he said, suddenly drawing everyone’s attention without meaning to. "Life moved on, but we didn’t forget you."

"That’s true!"

"Thanks, guys."

"I propose a monthly meal!" said Ino, with her usual exuberance. "That way we can all keep up to date."

Shikamaru nodded. Hours later, when everyone had things to do, they said their goodbyes at the restaurant door. He was about to find a place to reflect on his plans when Naruto approached him.

"Hey, Shikamaru. Thanks for today’s meal."

"I just suggested it. It was all Ino’s doing."

Naruto smiled, as if amused by his words. He didn’t contradict him, instead watching him silently for a few seconds, as if seriously considering something.

"I never thought you’d change so much by the time I got back."

"My change is recent," he confessed with a laugh, walking aimlessly down the street.

"Oh? Got tired of being lazy already?" Naruto laughed. Then he blinked and nudged him playfully with his elbow. "Don’t tell me… there’s a girl, isn’t there? That’s gotta be it!"

"…"

"Wait a minute! No way! I’m right, aren’t I!?"

Naruto stopped in the middle of the street when he realized Shikamaru wasn’t denying it. His stunned face, marked by total surprise, made Shikamaru laugh. It was clear that Naruto had been joking, and even if it were true, he had expected him to completely deny it. Like he would have before. He could almost see his old self clicking his tongue, murmuring with exhaustion or exasperation, brushing the whole thing off.

The thing was, he couldn’t brush it off because the change had been radical. Not just on the surface, but deep inside. Shikamaru hadn’t just changed his clothes; he had changed his feelings. His life goals had changed, and so Shikamaru was no longer the same as a week ago. That’s why it was easy to distinguish his old self from his new one. That’s why he wasn’t going to deny what had happened to him—and it was all thanks to Harika.

Shikamaru grabbed Naruto by the arm, pulling him toward a more secluded spot when he saw him open his mouth to shout again.

"Shh… Not so loud, man."

"B-but… I’m right?"

"… Yeah."

"Do I know her?"

"No."

"What? But-"

"You don’t know her, Naruto."

They reached a bridge crossing over a small stream and stopped there. Or rather, Shikamaru stopped dragging Naruto and sat down on a stone bench. Naruto remained standing, watching him with a confused expression, until he finally shook off his invisible thoughts with a quick head shake. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the red railing, freshly painted by the look of its shiny surface.

"Is she from the village?"

"No."

"What’s her name? How did you meet her? Since when…? You know."

Shikamaru smiled automatically. He hadn’t even thought about it, but just remembering everything that had happened these past few days—remembering her—it was impossible for his lips not to curl into a smile. Suddenly, he felt the need to talk about it. It was the first time in his life he felt like sharing what he felt with someone else. His father always pulled his thoughts out of him through a few shogi matches, and then Asuma had done the same, though with more difficulty. To this day, those two, and Chouji, were the only ones who knew more than what he usually showed others.

"Her name is Harika, and I met her only eight days ago. She saved my life on my last mission and... I guess she caught me off guard."

"Whoa... So, you like her?"

"You know, Naruto," he said, staring at him with a serious expression, "I think she could be the love of my life."

Naruto looked surprised by his words. A part of Shikamaru was surprised at himself too, but after knowing how he felt in just seven measly days, and after reflecting deeply over the past week, he was convinced. He had never believed in love at first sight, but the chemistry, the connection, and how good he felt around her was something he had never experienced before. And he didn’t want to let it go.

If she felt the same, and he believed it was very possible, and if they both fought for something real, then why couldn’t it work for the rest of their lives even if they’d only known each other for a week? It was crazy, but for the first time, he wanted to do something straight from the heart. Could it hurt? Yes. But what if he was right?

"If she doesn’t live in the village, what do you plan to do?" Naruto asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts.

"That’s the thing..."

"Wait a minute. You’re planning something, aren’t you?"

Naruto’s mischievous smile overtook his serious look until he reminded Shikamaru of that Academy kid dressed in blinding orange with goggles on his forehead that he didn’t use except to hide when the world got especially cruel. Shikamaru forgot he was a jonin for a moment and smiled mischievously too.

"Of course," he looked around to make sure they were alone, "Harika is traveling through the Land of Fire, so my best bet is to try and find her every time I get sent out on a solo mission."

"And your goal?"

"She’s trying to find a way back home," he confessed. "I don’t know where she’s from or why she can’t return, but it’s clear she’s not from here... Logically, if I want this to work, I need to help her find a way to return and a way for her to travel between her home and here."

"...And if that’s not possible?"

"Right now, there’s no point thinking that far ahead. First, I need to find her again. We’ve only known each other for a week. I need to know if what I felt these past few days means something. If I didn’t just imagine all of this, then I can move on to the next step."

"Helping her get back."

"Exactly. For that, I’ll need more detailed information about her problem, and I think I’m going to need some time to earn that kind of trust."

"Why do you say that?" Naruto asked with curiosity, having listened intently.

"Because she’s not a civilian, nor a ninja. She’s something else. She has powers. That much I’m sure of. I offered to bring her back with me to Konoha, but she refused."

"You think she’s afraid her powers will be discovered?"

"Yes. And honestly, I think she’s right to be so cautious. That’s why I said I need to earn her trust."

"Alright. I’ll help you!" Naruto said with a grin. He gave a thumbs-up, reminding Shikamaru of Lee, and then pointed to his chest. "I promise!"

Shikamaru sighed, caught somewhere between exasperation, fatigue, and comfort. Naruto hadn’t changed one bit despite all the time that had passed.

"Naruto, one day you’ll offer a hand and someone will take your whole arm," he scolded. "You need to take better care of yourself."

"You’re my friend, Shikamaru, and I’m not going to let the love of your life slip away."

Strangely, they talked more than they ever had before. It was the first time he’d had a deep conversation with Naruto that didn’t end in training, a mission, or a fight. He’d never imagined that Naruto—the class clown Naruto—would be the one comforting him after he shared such a wild idea. But then again... who better than Naruto to talk about wild ideas?

Still, telling him about Harika meant also revealing his personality shift. One that he himself had noticed instantly. Shikamaru had never imagined the first person he’d open up to about what was happening in his personal and family life would be Naruto. He’d thought he’d end up telling Chouji. Maybe, surprisingly, even Ino. But Naruto? And yet, once he’d opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop.

He explained the conclusions he had reached over the last few days. He spoke about his family, his parents, and even his career as a ninja.

"Naruto... I’ve always wanted to tell you this," he cleared his throat, feeling a bit odd and vulnerable about what he was about to say, "Back at the Academy, I always wanted to help you. I wish I’d been your friend sooner."

"We were friends at the Academy, Shikamaru. You don’t need to worry about it."

"But I mean before that. I saw you alone and I didn’t say or do anything. I was a coward. I wanted to approach you, but I didn’t. That regret will always stay with me. What I wanted to say is that I’m sorry for not reacting sooner. I’m sorry for leaving you alone when you didn’t deserve it."

"…"

He saw Naruto swallow hard, his face serious and eyes shining, and suddenly Harika’s voice popped into his mind.

"You know what you need?"

Shikamaru sighed at the memory, a bit exasperated. "For the love of-. The things this woman makes me do…"

Embarrassed, he practically lunged at Naruto to give him a hug. One he should’ve given him long ago. Naruto froze for a few seconds before returning the hug. Not knowing what to do with it, he just patted Naruto’s back a bit awkwardly. Naruto laughed as soon as he felt it.

"You’re a smart guy, but hugs are not your thing."

They both pretended they weren’t as affected as they seemed. Shikamaru looked away, scratching his head, while Naruto raised a hand to wipe the corner of his eye.

"So... when do we start looking for her?"

"Looking for who?"

Shikamaru froze when he heard that voice. He instantly felt himself pale. He had completely forgotten. He turned around almost against his will. There she was, one eyebrow raised and arms crossed. The last person he wanted to see.

Temari… His girlfriend.

Chapter 12: Part II - II

Shikamaru sighed. Naruto, beside him, hesitated but said nothing. He wasn’t surprised. He had told him he was nearly in love with a woman who turned out not to be his girlfriend. The truth was that he had forgotten about Temari since returning to Konoha, but he did remember her when he was with Harika. It embarrassed him to think that Temari had only been a fleeting thought, someone he remembered only when he was about to kiss another woman. That was one of the reasons he didn’t kiss her.

The truth was, he knew what he had to do. He had known it even before meeting Harika. He had to break up with Temari.

"Can we talk, Temari?"

She frowned upon hearing those dreadful words. Shikamaru nodded toward Naruto, and he left them alone after staring at him for a few seconds.

"We'll talk later, Naruto," he assured him, so he would know he hadn’t been joking about what they’d discussed.

"Alright. See you."

Temari and he waited in silence for Naruto to go, to walk far enough that even his ninja ears couldn’t eavesdrop. He looked at the stone bench, debating whether to sit, but decided that what he had to say wasn’t worth sitting for. Ironically, Temari sat down. She seemed to think they were about to have a serious talk. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

"So? What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to end it."

"End it…?" she said, leaning back abruptly as if he had slapped her. Her serious face showed surprise and a flicker of pain. "You mean… us?"

"Temari…" he sighed heavily. "We’ve only been seeing each other for a little over a month. We’ve seen each other three times during this so-called relationship, if we can even call it that."

"And what would you call it then!?"

"We’ve had three dates. Three dates don’t mean we’re in a real relationship… We were just trying to see what we might be like as a couple."

"But you said yes when I brought it up."

"No. You proposed a relationship, and I said I wasn’t sure I wanted one," he reminded her, firmly. "You asked me to give it a chance to see where it could go. We’ve had three dates since I agreed to start something I already wasn’t sure about, and now I’m telling you I want to stop."

"So what we had meant nothing?"

"What we had, Temari? We haven’t taken a single step forward."

"But we were on the right track! All relationships start like this! Or are you expecting me to spread my legs from the very beginning!?"

"Don’t put words in my mouth that I didn’t say," he hissed coldly, instantly angry. "You know I’d never ask something like that."

Temari immediately deflated, staring at the ground. An uncomfortable, tense silence fell between them, giving both of them time to calm down. He saw her take a few deep breaths, clearly trying to compose herself, before she looked up again.

"I’m sorry. I know you’d never pressure me."

"I think you already know what I mean, right?" he sighed, suddenly tired. "Our relationship hasn’t changed since we started seeing each other. We’re still friends who’ve had a few dates. That’s what I mean when I say we haven’t taken a single step."

"But why don’t you want to keep trying? A month is too short to know if we could be a real couple. How do you know we’re not a good match? Why can’t you just wait, give us time? See where this leads?"

"This is the same conversation we had when you brought it up that day."

"And you promised you’d give me time! Of course we’ve only had three dates! We live in different countries! But I’ve been making an effort every time I visit!"

"I know, but I never asked you to," Shikamaru reminded her gently. He knew he had to be clearer, even if he didn’t want to hurt her, so he took a breath. "Temari… I only like you as a friend. I’m not in love with you, and I won’t be in the future, no matter if we go on fifty dates or date for a year. I don’t want to see where this leads because I know it’s not going anywhere. I don’t want to waste your time or mine. You deserve someone who loves you the way you love them, but that’s not me. Please… try to understand. We’re done."

Temari nodded, once again looking at the ground. Shikamaru sighed again. He felt sad about what had just happened, but also relieved. That alone told him he had made the right decision. Whether or not he would end up with Harika in the future didn’t matter. He didn’t like Temari romantically. Maybe if he had given in and agreed to date her for a year or two, he might’ve started to like her, or at least the idea of her. But the truth was, Shikamaru didn’t want that kind of relationship. Not when Harika had made him feel so much more in just seven days.

He imagined a hypothetical two-year relationship with Temari and compared it to a possible three-month relationship with Harika, and he knew there was no comparison.

"Alright," Temari said suddenly, standing and turning around. "We’ll talk later."

Shikamaru said nothing as he watched her walk away quickly, though something told him it had been too easy… Finally, he sat down alone on the stone bench, trying to shake off the bad feeling. He didn’t feel like going home. He needed to be alone.

…

The first time he met Temari, when he was only twelve, he thought she was arrogant, overly confident. Maybe arrogant wasn’t the right word. Maybe condescending fit better. She had come to Konoha ready to invade and hadn’t bothered to hide the way she occasionally looked down on them. Shikamaru was lazy, but observant.

When he fought her, he gave up for three reasons: he was running out of chakra, he was bored, and Temari irritated him beyond belief. What happened after confirmed his hasty impression that Temari was an idiot. Did she really think they could invade with genin, chunin, and a few jonin teachers from the Suna escort? Later, once it was all over, he thought it through and realized Temari wasn’t as smart as he was, but that didn’t mean she was a complete fool. She was just… a kid. A cocky kid.

Luckily, Temari seemed to change quickly and for the better. He didn’t witness her growth up close, but the few times they saw each other over the years, she seemed less irritating and arrogant. Maybe because she matured. Everyone did, after all. Still, he couldn’t deny that she exasperated him most of the time.

Once, years after the Suna invasion, Temari came back to Konoha for the first time in a long time. Unfortunately for him, he ran into her just as she was entering through the village gates.

"Well, well. We meet again, Nara," she smiled, crossing her arms and walking up to him. "It’s been a while."

"Temari," he greeted, suppressing a sigh.

"Why don’t you show me around the village? I didn’t get a good look at it last time, and now I’ve got time."

"… Troublesome," he sighed to himself.

He swallowed the words that had been dancing on the tip of his tongue. Why don’t you show me around the village? Maybe because I don’t want to.

"Hey! Stop saying everything’s troublesome! Don’t be like that!"

He started walking with his hands in his pockets, ignoring Temari’s teasing words, thinking how troublesome it really was. The problem wasn’t showing her around the village. The problem was what would happen if he refused to do it. He felt a sharp sting of irritation seeing that, once again, Temari was putting her own wishes above everyone else’s. Words sometimes gave people away without them realizing it. What had Temari said? That she had time now. Had she considered whether he had time to waste on her ridiculous request? No. Why? Because deep down, Temari was still a little arrogant. Not as much as years ago, thank goodness.

The thing was, Temari cared about what Temari cared about. So, he swallowed his irritation and did what his father would’ve done with his mother. He sighed and gave in. That happened a few more times, whenever he ran into her in the village during her diplomatic missions. He quickly realized it was Temari who was seeking him out. After all, it would be hard to find him by chance in a labyrinthine place like Konoha, especially when he never walked the same route twice, just to avoid patterns.

He tried to ignore her, but she was persistent, and he didn’t want to hide inside his own village. Eventually, he found himself spending time with her, eating or walking around Konoha. Not because he looked for her, but because she joined him every chance she got. Shikamaru wasn’t an idiot. He knew Temari wanted something. But he didn’t truly understand it until his father brought it up during a game of shogi.

"Are you dating that girl?" his father asked out of nowhere.

"What g- You don’t mean Temari, do you?"

"Who else would I mean?"

Shikamaru said nothing. Temari always acted the same. She never showed even a hint of affection toward him, aside from her persistence in spending time together when she was in Konoha. He had never imagined it as that kind of situation. But the moment he pictured Temari as his girlfriend, he felt exasperated and uneasy.

"Temari wears me out."

"Then she’s a lot like your mother," his father chuckled, joking.

That conversation stuck with him. He didn’t know why at the time, but it was because he had interpreted it as his father’s approval in his own way. If Temari was like his mother, and his father loved his mother, then that must mean Temari was a good match, at least to him.

Yeah. He realized how much he had misread everything. That wasn’t a blessing from his father, just a casual comment. And him? Sometimes he was dumber than he thought. He was so fixated on following his father’s footsteps that he even considered swallowing his unease and asking Temari out until he remembered how much she irritated him and immediately dropped the stupid idea that hadn’t lasted more than two seconds. Fate, however, had other plans.

It was Temari herself who asked him out just a couple of weeks later when she returned to Konoha on a diplomatic mission.

"Shikamaru… Have you ever considered starting a long-distance relationship?"

"Relationship?" he asked, playing dumb. "No."

His answer had been blunt, but Temari didn’t seem fazed by his cold, stoic rejection. She just shrugged and kept talking. Maybe he would’ve admired her determination if it had been about anything else but this was about his consent. Here he was, saying no firmly, and Temari just shrugged, as if his opinion didn’t matter or as if, deep down, she was determined to change his mind just because she wanted it. Again, he found himself deeply irritated.

He knew Temari wasn’t a bad person. But that didn’t mean her personality didn’t fray his nerves every time he spent more than thirty minutes around her. As he’d suspected, she tried again a bit later.

"Shikamaru, I want to tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully before saying anything."

"…Alright," he sighed, defeated. "What do you want to say?"

"Look, I know you’re smart and probably saw this coming, so I’ll get straight to the point. I like you. I think we could make a great couple if we gave ourselves a chance."

"I’m not so sure about that."

"But I am," she said confidently. He held back an eye-roll, already irritated. "I just want us to give it some time and see if it works."

"I’m not sure I want to be in a relationship right now, Temari."

"Come on, Shikamaru. What have you got to lose? Imagine if we gave it a shot and found out we were perfect for each other."

Shikamaru sighed heavily. He looked to the sky, praying for patience while Temari waited silently, her eyes bright and a triumphant smile already forming like she knew he’d give in. They both knew he would, simply because they both knew how persistent Temari could be. In the end, just to get her off his back, he gave in to her proposal.

"Alright," he raised a hand before she could cheer. "But if I change my mind in a few months, don’t come crying to me."

"You won’t regret it, Shikamaru! Just give me time, and I’ll prove it to you."

And that was it.

The three dates they’d had were more like friends meeting up than anything else, especially since they hadn’t even kissed and he hadn’t shown her any affection. Temari had taken his arm a couple of times, but she wasn’t particularly affectionate, so that was it. More than once, he caught her eyes lingering on his lips, but he pretended not to notice.

From this perspective, their relationship was barely a relationship. In fact, he barely considered her his girlfriend, aside from the fact that, technically, he was seeing her in a way he wasn’t seeing anyone else. Was it understandable that he forgot about Temari so easily after meeting someone like Harika? Maybe. Was it fair to Temari? Definitely not. That’s why he had ended things the moment he saw her. It was the least he could do to avoid digging himself even deeper.

Temari was hurt, of course, but she’d get over it. It comforted him to think it had all been incredibly brief, that she hadn’t fallen in love with him after years of dating. The more he thought about it, the more relieved he felt for both of them. Like he’d told her, she deserved someone who truly loved her. Someone who could accept all her flaws and strengths. Someone whose dominant personality matched hers. But that someone… wasn’t him.

…

Days later, it seemed like fate had aligned in his favour. Or so he thought.

"I told you I’d help you, Shikamaru," Naruto said, elbowing him in the side with a grin.

Shikamaru looked at him in surprise. He looked around and saw they were alone.

"Are you telling me you got this mission?"

"Who else would it be?"

He stared at his friend in disbelief. Still, he gratefully accepted Naruto’s favour. Clearly, his connection with the Hokage had helped a lot. If he had tried the same thing, he was sure it wouldn’t have worked so quickly. He shook those thoughts away. The important thing was to leave the village and find Harika again as soon as possible. It had been nearly five days since he left her, and with each day, he grew more restless and worried.

He looked at the mission documents. It was a solo escort mission, which meant he’d have time to search for Harika once he dropped his client off at home. He calculated it would take four days traveling at a civilian pace to reach the destination, so he planned to send a clone ahead to look for clues. That way, he’d gain time by not having to do it himself after completing the escort. Once he knew which direction Harika had taken, and the mission was done, he’d go after her himself.

"Minamoto-san?" he called out to his client, who turned around. "I’m Shikamaru Nara, your escort for this mission."

"A pleasure to meet you, Nara-san."

Shikamaru nodded, a little impatient. Apparently, the man was a merchant who lived near the Land of Rivers and owned a cattle farm. His meat business was starting to overshadow his competitors so much that he’d received death threats. Fortunately for Minamoto, they seemed to be just threats and not actual plans. To be safe, he had requested a ninja escort.

"I’d like to get there as soon as possible," the client requested. "I was delayed longer than expected in Konoha and want to make it in time for my daughter’s birthday in two days."

"Traveling at civilian pace takes four days… If you want to get there on time, we’ll need to make very short stops and walk for hours. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Of course."

Shikamaru said nothing else, but inside, he was smiling. That meant he’d have two completely free days—days he was supposedly meant to be guarding the client—that he could use to look for Harika. That left him with roughly four free days, considering he could stretch the return trip to Konoha to two more…

The first day went by quickly, considering that his client was rested and prepared for the trip, so they covered more than half the distance. As they approached the area where he had last seen Harika, he created a clone to begin investigating. His first goal was to return to the cabin where he had left her. He didn’t expect to find her, but maybe there would be a clue about her whereabouts.

His clone dissipated at night, hours later, bringing back all the possible information. Beside him, the client slept while he smiled in the middle of the night. Harika had left him a map. It didn’t mark her destination, but it did show the places she had been. Judging by the route, it was obvious she was heading north and would likely comb through the east afterward, visiting the nearest villages. If he estimated Harika’s pace, considering it had been around seven days since he last saw her…

"There," he muttered to himself, looking at the map and circling a specific village.

At the next dawn, Shikamaru eagerly woke the client. They had agreed to arrive at his home that same morning, and he was excited to start the first part of his plan.

"How much longer until we reach Iwaki?"

"About two hours on foot," he admitted, slightly irritated at wasting time walking at a civilian’s pace.

"Perfect."

They walked in silence for quite some time. Shikamaru passed the time thinking about what he had to do and sharpening his senses to avoid being surprised by bandits or enemy ninja. He didn’t believe the threats to the client posed any real danger, more like a cry of rage from an angry civilian. Still, despite his plans, he was on a mission, so he took it seriously. The boredom, however, grew stronger, as did his desire to finish the mission.

When he finally saw Iwaki in the distance, he had to hold back a huge sigh of relief. The client beside him smiled and quickened his pace.

"We finally made it! I thought I was going to miss the party!"

"We’ll be there in 15 minutes at this pace."

They arrived in 10. Shikamaru accepted the client’s thanks impatiently, nodding politely.

"It’s been a pleasure to escort you. You can contact Konoha if you have any other problems."

"I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Nara-san."

He turned and left. Shikamaru exited the village in long strides, and once he passed the gates, he started running. For the first time in days, he felt alive again, a wide smile spreading across his face. He was surprised to feel this way when just two weeks ago he would never have imagined running back toward Konoha, eager to return home. The urge that pushed him to be by her side again was overwhelming. He had never felt anything like it before. Maybe he was so shocked by what he felt for Harika—despite barely knowing her—because his former self had merely been surviving. That meant the difference between who he was now and who he had been a month ago was enormous.

The journey through the Land of Fire in search of the possible love of his life felt almost short. He sent a clone to visit the villages he believed she had already passed through, just in case, but he himself ran toward the destination he had calculated the night before. Unfortunately, Harika wasn’t there. He headed to the next village with a heavy heart. What if he had calculated wrong? What if she had strayed from the villages, contrary to what her map suggested? What if something had happened to her along the way? What if she had—

Shikamaru stopped in his tracks when he felt her presence in Deiri, the closest village to Suiro—right where he had estimated she would be. He caught his breath in seconds, feeling strange and excited to see her again after a week.

There she was, dressed in discreet clothing but with a white hat shading her from the sun. He watched her as she browsed some books at a mobile stall, a small smile on her lips. Then, as if she sensed it, Harika slowly lifted her head from the book until their eyes met, almost like magnets. He saw the surprise on her face as she realized he was there, standing by a lamppost, watching her with crossed arms, holding back the urge to scoop her up and carry her away. The surprise quickly turned into a smile. She set the book down and walked toward him; first slowly, then a bit faster, and finally, with a laugh, she broke into a run, closing the last few meters between them.

Shikamaru didn’t even think, he closed the distance between them in a few strides. He caught her in his arms, laughing too, and pulled her tightly against him. He ignored the stares and smiles as he hugged Harika firmly. He used his chakra to vanish quickly, reappearing in a nearby park he had spotted from the corner of his eye half an hour earlier. They reappeared beneath the shade of a tree, suddenly hearing children shouting nearby, unaware anyone else was now there.

"I can’t believe you’re here," Harika whispered, her lips brushing the skin of his neck, sending a shiver through him.

"Where else would I be?"

Harika lifted her head to look him in the eyes. Her face, inches from his, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He got lost in those green, radiant eyes for a few seconds before his gaze drifted down to where he wanted most… her lips.

"Harika… I’m going to say something crazy, but… I can’t stop thinking about you. Since I met you, it was like something inside me shifted, and now that I know it, I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to be the person I was just 10 days ago," he confessed in a low voice, nervous, yet filled with strength for the first time in his life. Harika listened in silence, her eyes soft. "If you could find a way to return home and then come back here… would you come back to me? Or… am I the only one feeling this?"

Harika was quiet for a few seconds that felt eternal, studying every inch of his face until their eyes met again and she smiled.

"If I could, I would come back to you."

Shikamaru couldn’t help but exhale, his heart pounding. It felt like his chest might explode from hearing, in her own words, that she would return to him. It was the first time he had risked something so important and luckily for him, it had gone well. The woman he was starting to love, loved him too. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. In that moment, he understood why everyone spoke of love and risked everything for it, exposing themselves to someone who could hurt them.

Harika raised a hand and cradled his face with such tenderness that his eyes closed in pleasure without him even realizing it.

"If you don’t want me to kiss you, you’d better say so now," he whispered, leaning in with trembling hands.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" she whispered back, laughing.

Their lips met right there. He felt one of Harika’s hands on his jaw and the other on his back, pulling him close. He couldn’t help but bury one hand in her long hair, feeling how soft and silky it was. He longed to feel that hair on his bare skin someday, but for now, he was content holding her tightly.

Her lips, soft and velvety, parted beneath his. He kissed them again and again, unable to let her go, cherishing the fact that she seemed just as hungry for him as he was for her. He ran his tongue along her lip, begging for more, anything. He felt her tongue touch his, and as soon as they made contact, it was like being electrocuted. A shiver ran through him, and he felt her skin react under his hand, responding to him.

Suddenly, they were no longer just kissing. He felt the need to devour her, and unable to stop himself, he gave in. Harika kissed him back with the same urgency, devouring and being devoured at once. It was like they were one, their tongues dancing, breathing as one. He kissed her face, her lips, her neck… feeling her tremble with desire beneath his touch.

"Shikamaru…"

He had to swallow hard, his pulse unsteady, as he realized he was becoming inevitably aroused. He buried his face in her neck, sighing, loving the way her hand tangled in his hair.

"You deserve more than this," he said, recognizing the truth. He wanted to make love to her but not like this.

"I know… but you’re torturing me."

"Me?" he chuckled, nibbling her neck gently, hearing her moan, a sound that aroused him again. "You’re the one who keeps tempting me."

"How about we admit we’re tempting each other?"

Shikamaru pulled away from her, unwillingly. He rested his forehead against hers, feeling that same connection he’d felt with her from the beginning. Harika kissed his lips once, twice, three times, making him smile. Shikamaru cupped her cheek, beginning another soft kiss before pulling away completely.

"The sooner you return home, the sooner you can come back to me."

"Will you help me?"

"Of course. I know you wouldn’t live peacefully by my side, even if-... even if you love me, if you couldn’t see your family. I’m greedy, possessive… selfish, even, but I want you with me. And I want you to want, with all your heart, to be by my side. I won’t settle for a part of you. I want you to give yourself to me completely, without any doubt," he confessed, seeing the growing desire in her emerald eyes. "I want you to be mine in every way. I want you to choose me. Do you think you can handle that kind of need, Harika?"

Harika smiled, breathing unevenly, her pupils dilated. Shikamaru clenched his fists to stop himself from devouring her again.

"Will you give yourself to me the same way you expect me to give myself to you?"

"Have you not realized I already belong to you? Yes."

"Then… when do we start investigating?"

Shikamaru smiled triumphantly. "Now."

Chapter 13: Part II - III

The beginning of his investigation alongside Harika was going to last relatively little, considering he had to return to the village, and he told her so.

"We only have four days before I have to go back," he admitted reluctantly. Harika nodded, unsurprised. "But first... I have to ask you a few questions."

"I figured as much."

They were sitting under the tree that had witnessed their first kiss. The children were already home, eating with their families, so they were alone. The chaotic and frantic energy that had pushed him to run through the forest had calmed the moment he held her in his arms. So much so that he had to sit down to regain his strength. Clearly, he wasn’t used to such emotional swings. As soon as his back touched the trunk, he couldn’t help but grab Harika’s hand and pull her closer. She laughed as she fell into his arms again.

"If you feel like I’m crossing a line, tell me," he warned, kissing her cheek. "Otherwise, I won’t be able to let you go."

"Shikamaru, you might not have realized this yet, but I’m greedy and possessive too. For a long time, I was taught that I couldn’t be selfish, that what was mine wasn’t really mine..." Harika confessed, sitting between his legs and resting against his chest, looking at him through her long lashes. "At least until I told them to go to hell."

"And now?"

"Now I want to be selfish."

Shikamaru observed Harika’s determined expression, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he instantly understood that Harika wanted to be selfish when it came to him. The thought of her being possessive over him thrilled him. That was what he wanted, after all. Someone who would love him as intensely as he did.

"Sounds good to me," he said quietly, leaning the short distance to kiss those red lips again. "Perfect, actually."

They kissed for a few seconds that felt far too short. Damn, if this was what being in love felt like, he totally understood why some people went crazy. It was like half his brain disconnected the moment her lips touched his. Interestingly, disconnecting like that was actually comforting.

"What questions do you need to ask me?"

"You have powers, don’t you?"

"...," Harika looked at him, sighing, unsurprised once again. "Of course... Yes, I have powers."

"Are those powers related to why you can’t go home?"

"What I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy, but it’s the truth."

Shikamaru nodded, seeing that she meant every word. He could feel her steady heartbeat under his fingers which assured him she wasn’t lying. Not to mention her serious, stern expression and sincere eyes. Yes, there was no doubt she was telling the truth. He said nothing as she took a moment to figure out how to begin. He stayed quiet and gently stroked her hand, unable to stop himself from comforting her.

"This past year, I’ve been working as a photographer on a world expedition. At one of our stops, the researchers had to leave the tour temporarily, so I was left exploring the city on my own for a few days. On one of my walks, I unknowingly wandered into an abandoned area where I found a temple. I wouldn’t have even noticed it if not for a bell ringing," Harika sighed, turning her gaze toward him. "I got curious and..."

"And you went to explore."

"Yes. It was an abandoned temple. No one was there. I checked with my powers," she assured him when she saw his raised eyebrow. "Anyway, there was a painting. Actually-"

He watched as Harika rummaged through her leather bag and pulled out a camera that must have taken up half of it. Clearly, her bag had some kind of spatial seal, like the ones scrolls had. He said nothing, simply noting that down mentally. He took the camera she handed him. There was a small screen showing what appeared to be one of her photos. It was the temple she’d spoken of, lost between what looked like two large buildings. Harika pressed a button, moving to the next image. Shikamaru observed everything with full attention.

"That’s the painting I’m talking about."

The painting itself was more rectangular than square. It was divided into two scenes centred around a well. On one side, a person was emerging from the well; on the other, a person was entering it. If Harika was mentioning this painting, it was because it was important, and if she saw what happened in the painting as a warning rather than just a piece of art... it wasn’t hard to connect the dots. Now, did the well actually exist as a portal, or was the portal more metaphorical? He looked at Harika.

"You fell through a portal?"

"...Yes. The well was real. It was hidden beneath the rotten wooden floor. It gave way under my feet and I fell in."

"I see."

"I hit my head on the camera during the fall and lost consciousness, so I can’t tell you what happened next. I woke up at night, in the middle of a forest," she pulled out a map and handed it to him. "Here. I searched the area in expanding circles, but nothing. At least, nothing I could find."

"And I’m guessing you tried using your powers too..." he murmured, assuming as much as he studied the map. "You bought this map in the Land of the Sea?"

"Yes. I bought all the maps. Mainly because I quickly realized I wasn’t in-"

Shikamaru looked up from the map when he heard her choke on her words, as if she was struggling to admit the truth. Harika swallowed hard. He set the map aside and hugged her tightly, wanting to protect her from something he couldn’t even fight. Harika buried herself in his neck, clutching his vest tightly.

"I realized I wasn’t in my own dimension," she whispered.

He said nothing as he absorbed those words. He hadn’t known what to expect when wondering where she came from, but this... A different dimension? What did she mean by that? Why was she so sure?

"How do you know it’s not the same dimension?"

"Same stars and positions, but I couldn’t find the cities from my dimension."

Harika’s report was almost military. Despite needing comfort, she hadn’t cried or screamed or hesitated. Clearly, she wasn’t a civilian. Maybe there was some sort of in-between rank in her... dimension that would explain why she didn’t feel like a civilian but wasn’t exactly a ninja either. In fact, did ninjas even exist in that dimension? Or was it just people with powers who weren’t civilians but not quite military either? The questions kept piling up.

"I also heard that same bell again before I fell into the well. I heard it after picking up that painting and flipping it over like an idiot."

"Could be that was what triggered the mechanism. But you heard the bell before that, right?"

"Yes. I’ve come to the conclusion that either there’s more I don’t know about the bell or the portal was used minutes before I fell into it. I didn’t see anyone enter the temple, but who knows."

Shikamaru thought about everything he had learned, his mind racing, connecting the dots and solving mental equations while staring blankly into the distance. No matter how he looked at it, he kept coming to the same conclusion based on the limited information they had.

"So?" Harika smiled, kissing his cheek and reviving his thoughts with her touch. "What has that genius brain of yours figured out?"

"Well, I think it’s possible the portal was used... but in the opposite direction."

"What? You mean someone used the portal from here to there?" Harika asked, surprised.

"You said the well—the portal—was gone when you woke up, right?"

"Yes."

"It seems the portal hides once it's used. Maybe it needs time to recharge… I don’t think traveling between dimensions is exactly easy, energy-wise. However, you found an access point in the temple. If someone used it to travel to your dimension, I believe it would have vanished too. I have two hypotheses. The first is that the place where you fell had two portals: one leading to your dimension, which had been used before you arrived and therefore disappeared, and another leading to this dimension, which disappeared after you used it."

"And the second hypothesis?"

"That there's only one portal, but it can only make one trip in each direction before it disappears to recharge. If someone used the portal before you did, in the opposite direction, it means you 'used up' the last trip. And that’s why the portal in this dimension wasn’t there—it had already been used."

"So, since I used the portal to come here… the well in the temple should have disappeared too, right?"

"Exactly."

"But why wasn’t there anything where I fell? If there had been a temple, I’d understand. Or a mark, anything."

"Maybe the portals for traveling are inside temples, but the exit is random. That would make more sense than finding another portal in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe we’re just missing key information that would explain the coordinates of where you landed."

"Either way, I’ve been combing the terrain for documents or clues, but nothing. I’ve made copies of everything," she admitted, smiling mischievously at her confession of theft, "just in case I need to go over something again."

"I see… It was a good idea, but I think you’ll find more in key locations like villages, the capital, or even temples."

"Yeah, but that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid," Harika sighed, admitting what they both already knew.

"I figured, but the truth is, small villages aren’t going to have anything important. It’d be a potential risk for them to hold key documents that could affect a ninja country, and interdimensional travel is definitely serious business."

"Mmm… So, where do we start?"

"Honestly, I’d use these days to come up with a plan for when we’re not together. First, we need a way to communicate. Then, I’d focus on what you can do alone and what I can do while I’m in Konoha. Since you’ve already searched part of the Land of Fire, I’d keep going and see if you find anything important. I don’t think you will, but we can’t rule it out until you’ve checked all the villages," he admitted reluctantly. "If you were short on time, I wouldn’t recommend sticking to this plan."

"The truth is, I’d like to go back as soon as possible, but I’ve been going through every village just in case. What if I skip one and it turns out it had what I’m looking for?"

"I know, but you also need to factor in the time you’re spending."

"I know…" Harika sighed, frowning.

Shikamaru gently lifted her chin with a finger.

"Hey, we’re going to figure this out, okay?"

They spent the next few hours going through documents, but to no avail. They didn’t know exactly what they were looking for, but as Harika had said, none of her copies seemed to contain a single clue. Despite their search, they didn’t limit themselves to just research, they also talked about everything, more openly than they had a week ago, now that he had acknowledged knowing about her powers and shown he wouldn’t betray her.

"So, you don’t use chakra?"

"No. I have no idea what it is or had no idea until I came here."

"And how do you have powers if it’s not chakra? What kind of energy is it? Does it come from within or from nature? How does it work?" he asked. He couldn’t deny that this mystery had kept him up some nights, and it truly intrigued him.

"In my dimension, as far as I know, there are only civilians without powers and people with magic. Magic comes from within us, so each person has a different potential: some are stronger, and others are practically ‘muggles,’ as we call those without powers. Since the magical source inside us is limited, that means we can only cast a certain number of spells, among other things, before we collapse. But with food and rest, we recover quickly."

"Like chakra, then… Magic, huh? Interesting. From what I’ve deduced, you can do some things with your magic that we can do with chakra, so it’s possible people might mistake you for a ninja."

"You’re telling me. In fact, the first day I arrived here, I got kidnapped."

"What?" Shikamaru asked, suddenly feeling cold. He should’ve guessed, but just the thought of something happening to her while he hadn’t been there… "Who was it? How?"

"Well," she laughed, blushing, "I started yelling in frustration in the middle of the forest, and a ninja from Kirigakure heard me. Before I could protect myself, he knocked me unconscious and carried me for a while. Fortunately, I woke up in time and disabled him. Once I had him down, I interrogated him. It was pure luck, really, because with his knowledge, I figured out where I was. After that, I bought the maps to orient myself and started investigating how to get back home."

"What happened to the ninja? Did you kill him?"

"…I erased his memories," she confessed after a tense second, watching him with a worried expression.

Shikamaru, however, didn’t react as she seemed to expect. In fact, if she had killed that ninja, he wouldn’t have thought it monstrous. It’s exactly what he would have done in her place. He relaxed when he realized Harika had done what she needed to, but with more mercy than he would’ve shown. She could’ve killed him but instead, she chose to erase his memories. This woman… she was kinder than he could ever be. Still, the fact that she could erase memories was both fascinating and concerning. He didn’t even want to imagine what a ninja village would do if they found out about that ability.

"It’s better if you don’t tell anyone else what you can do."

"I know. Somehow, I know I can trust you."

"If I didn’t feel the same way, I’d say you’re crazy," he laughed softly, "but strangely, I also know I can trust you."

Maybe it was a mix of what he had deduced and what he irrationally felt for her, but he knew Harika didn’t want to hurt him. If she had, she would’ve done it already. It was clear they could have an amazing relationship if they both worked at it. The connection they felt was surprising,  stronger than anything he’d ever experienced, and he didn’t want to let it slip away without trying. He had tried. He’d taken the first step, and now he knew she felt the same. That meant he had to do everything he could not to screw it up moving forward, so he had no choice but to tell Harika something he’d wanted to forget. He had to talk to her about Temari.

It wasn’t that he wanted to bring her up, but it was obvious that if he put it off or didn’t tell the truth, it would backfire eventually, because Harika would find out anyway. He also knew that the longer he waited to tell her, the more she might distrust him, and he didn’t want to give her any reason not to rely on him. He wanted to be able to tell her anything, and he wanted her to feel she could do the same with him. Communication. It was something he’d rarely practiced with others, but Harika truly mattered to him and he didn’t want to lose her.

He realized this was the first time he was actively working toward something. Until recently, he’d always let others carry the weight of his relationships or friendships, but a romantic relationship was something else entirely. If he wanted things with Harika to last, he had to do his part, especially because Harika wasn’t someone he’d just see once or twice a week like his friends. If things went how he hoped, she would be his woman. He’d live with her every day for the rest of his life. Maybe one or two kids would depend on them. No, it was clear he needed to put in much more effort than ever before. What surprised him and, strangely, made him happy, was realizing that he wanted to make that effort. He was excited to do it.

"Harika, there’s something I need to tell you that you’re not going to like. When I’m done, you can ask me anything you want, but just… let me tell you first," she nodded silently. "Until recently, I was dating someone. Her name is Temari, and she’s a ninja from the Wind Country. I’m not in love with her, and I never was. I’m telling you that before you can even start thinking otherwise. We only dated for a month, and it was because she asked for a chance. At first, I refused, but Temari isn’t the type to take no for an answer… Once I met you and realized what it’s like to feel truly attracted to someone… Well, I knew I couldn’t keep seeing her because I wasn’t doing either of us any favours."

"So… when we met, you had a girlfriend?"

"If you can call someone you only saw three times in a month a ‘girlfriend,’ then yes. As soon as I got back to Konoha and we ran into each other by chance, I ended it with her. I swear."

Harika watched his face with a neutral expression. She didn’t look sad or angry, but she didn’t seem happy either. He wouldn't be, if he were in her place. That’s why he hadn’t tried to sugar-coat it. He had to tell her right away that he wasn’t in love with Temari and never had been, that they had only been together for a month, and that he had ended it as soon as he could. He felt nervous while she seemed to think things over, her eyes gleaming but not distant. Finally, she nodded.

"How were you supposed to know that we’d meet?" she shrugged, sighing. "But I’m glad you told me so quickly. I don’t like it, obviously, but I know it’s irrational to feel bad about something that happened before we knew each other. The fact that you were honest really puts me at ease, to be honest."

Shikamaru sighed, relaxing against the tree trunk. Damn. He hadn’t even realized how tense he was until Harika showed she wasn’t mad. Harika laughed when she saw him slump against the tree like a lifeless rag. He hugged her tightly, savouring the fact that he hadn’t messed it all up on their first day together.

"How could I be angry about something that was out of your control?" she whispered against his neck, as if reading his mind. "I would’ve been mad if you were still with her or if you’d hidden your past relationship for weeks."

"I’ve never really dated anyone before, so I’m learning, but it was clear that if I didn’t want to hurt you, I had to tell you as soon as possible."

"And I’m glad you did, Shikamaru. I’m glad you were honest, even if it hurt me or even if you didn’t want to talk about it because it’s uncomfortable… or annoying."

"Are you sure you’re not reading my mind?"

"Who knows?" Harika replied with a mischievous smile against his skin as she traced his hand with the tip of her fingers.

Shikamaru savoured that moment of peace, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and watched the sunset in the distance. He still had another couple of days with her, but even that wouldn’t feel like enough. He could already imagine himself back in Konoha, worried again, wondering if she was okay, if she had found anything, if someone had discovered her… He was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t deny the concern.

"Don’t think about it, Shikamaru," Harika interrupted his thoughts, squeezing his hand. "Everything will work out. You’ll see."

"How do you know?"

"Are you going to let it not work out?"

Harika tilted her face up to look him in the eye, and with just those few words, she managed to silence his worry completely. Harika had saved herself from an attack before, so she clearly could do it again, and she was also right in saying that if he wanted to, he’d find a way to fix this. So, what was the point in worrying?

Then, like a blow to the chest, he realized something deeper. Harika, even without saying it directly, was showing him just how much she trusted him. She knew the answer to her question was “no,” and she was also implying that she believed he would find a way to make things right because she trusted him. He swallowed hard as he understood it. Harika, unlike his friends and ninja allies, had no idea of his actual skills or talents, but she trusted him instinctively. Because somehow, they had deeply connected days ago in a way he had never experienced with anyone.

"You’re right."

Harika would continue her route through the Land of Fire while he searched for clues in Konoha, and sooner or later they’d find something valuable. But before parting ways, he needed a plan to stay in touch.

"Leave that to me, Shikamaru," she said with a mischievous smile, inspecting a gold coin with bright eyes. "I have an idea."

"Then let’s find a place to sleep so we can talk," he said, feeling like he could trust her. He stood up from the ground, offering her his hand. "How about we go have dinner?"

"A date? You're not wasting time, huh?"

"I don’t want to lose a single second."

Harika’s expression softened, more tender than playful, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Then she kissed the corner of his lips, which involuntarily curled into a smile, and finally kissed him on the lips. Shikamaru couldn’t help himself. He brushed her lips with his tongue, gently bit her lower lip, and kissed her deeply, their tongues intertwining again and again.

He was going to savour every second they had together before they had to part ways. After all, he didn’t know when they’d see each other again.

Chapter 14: Part II - IV

They spent their first date in a tiny restaurant with tables out on a plant-filled patio, talking. Shikamaru had never paid so much attention to a conversation in his life. He was realizing that with Harika, he seemed to be having a lot of firsts. Strangely enough, he wasn’t worried about messing up or not being good enough, because when he was with her, everything just flowed. He’d never met someone with whom just being was as easy as breathing. Maybe his father, when he wasn’t in one of his inquisitive moods.

He found himself talking nonstop, way more than ever before. They talked about their hobbies, their favourite foods, what they liked to listen to when they were happy or sad, the places they had visited for work or pleasure... They even talked about their future goals, which was of particular interest to him, and about the past.

“So, you wanted to be a photographer?”

“Not really. My friend Luna suggested it. It was a year-and-a-half-long tour, so I said yes while I figured out what to do with my life. Photography’s a hobby, and they were paying me for it, so it sounded like a great idea.”

“And do you know what you want to do now?”

“I know what I don’t want to do, which I’ve realized is just as important,” Harika admitted, taking a spoonful of her frozen dessert. “I don’t want to keep fighting. I’ve had enough of war.”

“War?”

“Well, it wasn’t a war exactly. I don’t know what I’d call it, but there were definitely two sides. And a lot of dead people.”

“And the leader of the other side… was he the man you killed?” Shikamaru asked, watching her expression, which said it all. Harika nodded silently. “I see.”

“Magic is wonderful, but it can also be terrifying. I imagine chakra is similar, so maybe you know what I mean. I’ve seen people heal from the brink of death… but I’ve also seen people die and come back as ‘zombies’, or resurrected as monsters from the bones of the dead. I guess that’s why magic scares some people.”

Harika stared at the doodles on the tablecloth as if pondering what she’d just said. It was clear that some people close to her hadn’t reacted well upon discovering she was a witch, judging by her body language. That made him angry. How dare people judge someone just for their abilities? Some civilians looked at ninjas the same way, it wasn’t the first time it happened, but it still irritated him to think people could be so… prejudiced and hypocritical. The last thing he wanted was for Harika to feel like those people had any right to hurt her for something she was born with.

“Any kind of power depends on how you use it. Look at this knife,” he said, holding up his dinner knife. “I used it to eat, but I could also kill everyone in this restaurant with it. Does that make the knife ‘bad’? No. People are, if they choose to be. The knife is just a tool. Like chakra. Like your magic. You shouldn’t feel guilty for having a gift.”

“…It’s not our abilities that show who we are, but our choices.”

“Exactly.”

Harika looked out the glass window, eyes distant, thinking about those words. Finally, she turned her gaze back to him, and there was a mixture of restrained anger and sadness in her eyes.

“That’s what the headmaster of my school told me years ago. He’s dead now. Sometimes I wish I’d killed him myself. And other times… I just wish I understood why he did what he did to me,” she said softly, as if speaking about it hurt. He simply reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “I’ve never had to tell my story because everyone already knew it. But still, there are things people don’t know. Things that happened recently… I want to tell you, if you want to listen.”

“Of course, I do. I want to know everything about you.”

“Then we’d better find somewhere to stay tonight. It’s not going to be short.”

Shikamaru paid for their dinner. He knew she had money, but he wanted to pay for their first date himself. If she wanted, she could pay for the next one. Harika let him, standing patiently at his side, and then took his offered hand. They walked hand in hand in search of an inn, which wasn’t too hard to find. Luckily, it was low season, so there were several rooms available.

“One room or two?”

“One,” Harika answered before he could even open his mouth. She winked at him.

“Are you sure you only want one, miss?” asked the receptionist, an old woman with a bitter-looking face and a hint of disdain in her voice.

Shikamaru felt his blood boil when he saw how the woman looked at Harika, but before he could say something in her defence, or drive a kunai into her throat, Harika spoke.

“Oh. I didn’t realize I had to ask permission to share a room with my husband.”

The woman’s face turned beet red, clearly having not considered they might be married. She looked at their intertwined fingers, and Shikamaru could tell she had assumed the lack of rings meant they weren’t. He didn’t care what some random civilian, in a village in the middle of nowhere, thought, but hearing Harika put that woman in her place without raising her voice, and calling him “husband” with that possessive tone, drove him crazy.

He felt a flutter in his chest, a tightening of desire in his gut, and a pulse of arousal below the belt. Another first time, right there. And since he couldn’t resist…

“Oh, and before you ask whether we want one bed or two… One bed, please,” he added, holding back laughter with a smirk. “We’re trying for a baby. Or two. You know?”

Harika laughed out loud, not caring about the woman’s now crimson face. Shikamaru pulled her into his arms possessively, and she wrapped herself around his side, resting her cheek on his chest and placing her hand on his stomach in such a suggestive way that it nearly made steam come out of the receptionist’s ears. A man emerged quickly from the back room, apparently having heard part of their conversation. He shot a sharp glance at the woman behind the counter and politely took over, charging them and handing over a key without another word.

Shikamaru picked her up bridal-style, laughing, and heard Harika gasp in surprise. He strode upstairs, ignoring the glare on the back of his neck and the whispered reprimand behind them in a male voice.

“Shikamaru!”

“What? Didn’t you say you wanted to share a room with your husband?”

Harika blushed, even though they were now alone, and briefly buried her face in his neck. But he knew she wouldn’t back down. He saw how she tilted her head just enough to look up at him through long curled lashes. Just one glance into those seductive eyes, and his mouth went dry.

“Well, if we’re supposedly trying for a baby… we should share a bed, right?” she whispered, biting her lip.

He shut the door behind them without even setting her down. He would have opened and closed it with his leg if necessary, but there was no way he was putting her down while he didn’t have to. Ironically, the room didn’t have a traditional bed, just a large futon, folded in the corner. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Harika seemed to read his mind. She shifted in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist the moment his hand tangled in her hair and his lips crashed onto hers in a deep kiss.

He found the futon by memory, eyes closed, and knelt on it with her in his arms. He had no idea how long they spent kissing, breathless and hungry, their bodies pressed together—her seated on his lap as he knelt on the soft mat. He felt her tug his ponytail loose, her fingers running through his hair. He nibbled her lips, tangled their tongues, kissed her deeply while her feminine moans were swallowed by his mouth.

When he felt a sharp pang of desire and a growing erection, he knew they had to stop. He stroked her back, knowing they weren’t ready to take that step—not here, not now, not like this. They hadn’t even finished talking. He hadn’t even properly asked her to be his girlfriend yet. Still, it was hard to pull away from those lips that drove him wild. He sighed against her mouth, kissing her again and again, his hand cradling her jaw gently.

“We should talk.”

“I know,” Harika whispered against his lips, forehead to forehead.

“I want to hear everything you had to say. All of it.”

They stayed silent for a few minutes, breathing into each other’s space, still tightly wrapped in each other’s arms. Shikamaru stroked her arm, feeling her do the same. He sat more comfortably on the floor, letting her recline just a little so he could see her better, and listened to everything she had to say.

She told him about her parents’ deaths, the abuse she endured in her aunt and uncle’s home, what had happened year after year at Hogwarts until she was finally forced to flee and to kill her parents’ murderer. She told him about the horcruxes and Dumbledore, about her sudden death and resurrection. And how afterward, she had to fight to recover from everything she’d gone through.

Harika cried while remembering certain moments, but Shikamaru could see that, although painful, it no longer haunted her silently. She could speak about it without faltering in a way he knew well. Harika was healing. He’d seen it in other ninjas after traumatic missions. That was the only reason he wasn’t even angrier than he already was. The only thing he could do, since he couldn’t fight the past, was hold her and listen. He didn’t like it, obviously, but he knew he couldn’t fix what had happened to her with a jutsu. He wished it were as simple as stabbing someone.

“I’m really sorry for what you went through. You didn’t deserve any of it,” he said at last. “If you ever need to talk about it again… I’ll listen.”

“Talking to you about it helped me, Shikamaru. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Seeing how tired she seemed, he opened the futon and let her lie down in front of him. He removed his weapons and vest, got comfortable, and watched her closely, unable to look away. They talked for a while about lighter topics, leaving the darker ones aside, until Harika had fully regained the light in her eyes and he no longer felt so bad. He was surprised by how deeply her sadness had affected him. It was the first time it had ever happened to him, the first time he had empathized so much with someone. The first time he wished he could carry someone else’s pain instead.

He stroked her hair slowly, kissing her forehead while she spoke softly against his chest, eyes closed, about what she had seen on her photography trip. Shikamaru listened attentively, but he also thought about what he was experiencing in that very moment. He thought about how incredible it was to be with her like this: talking, kissing, in silence… He wasn't even disappointed that they hadn’t had sex, because although he would’ve loved to, just talking to her was deeply satisfying. It was… strange and surprising.

He realized at that exact moment that breaking up with Temari had been the right decision. In fact, his real mistake had been not rejecting her from the start. Every time he went out with Temari, he felt exhausted and uncomfortable, even before meeting up, and when he was with her it wasn’t long before he was itching to go home. On their last date, the third and final one before they broke up, Shikamaru had silently prayed that a genin would show up and tell him he had a mission.

And yet, here he was with Harika. They were together and he was already looking forward to being with her again. He didn’t quite understand why he felt this way or what it meant. It was irrational, but the most intense thing he’d ever felt.

"Harika," he whispered when he saw her enjoying the moment with her eyes closed, saying nothing more. "I need to ask you something before you fall asleep."

"Mhmm…"

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Shikamaru watched as she opened her eyes, as if she needed to look him in the eye instead of whispering yes against his chest. Harika raised a hand, placing it on his face, and stroked his lips.

"I do."

He smiled without being able to help it, leaning in to kiss her.

…

"And how does this work?" he asked, flipping the gold coin. Real gold. He knew she had money, but this… It was clear her fortune far exceeded that of his clan.

"I basically connected these two coins so we can communicate. I want to see if you can use your chakra to interact with the magic in this coin so you can use it. If it doesn’t work, I’ll try something else. I’ve got a few ideas."

Shikamaru inspected the magic coin, full of enchantments, that Harika had given him. It had a dragon design on one side and the face of a wizard with a hat on the other. The engraved letters read “Gringotts Bank” on one side and “Unum Galleon” on the other. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel a sort of tingling, but it was so faint that if he hadn’t known the coin was enchanted, he wouldn’t have noticed.

He watched as Harika picked up her coin and used her powers in front of him. Again, he felt that tingling sensation he was starting to associate with her magic. It was like feeling a feather brushing against his bare skin. He watched as the letters on her coin changed, forming new words.

"I got it," he said, reading the question on the coin. "I’ll try sending something back."

He was curious to know if he could interact with Harika’s magic using his chakra. In fact, he was eager to try because if it worked, that meant Harika could also use chakra, however rudimentary. When it came to chakra, Harika’s reserves were only slightly above an average civilian’s. That didn’t surprise him since she never used chakra for anything, preferring to use her other energy. Still, if she could at least use chakra to enhance her physical abilities, he knew that would be a great advantage for her. Shikamaru would be satisfied if she could just run away, rather than engage in hand-to-hand combat.

It took him a few minutes to figure out how to connect his chakra to the magic, but he realized the magic felt very similar to shizen energy—or, as some knew it, sen chakra. He wasn’t used to working with that energy, but he could perceive it, and after a few attempts he was able to link up with the magic. He felt a sort of click, as if the two energies had merged. He wasn’t using a jutsu per se, but it seemed like the magic somehow understood his intentions, allowing itself to be transformed by his chakra and altering the words on the coin.

He was amazed to discover that, in one way or another, he was doing magic. He wasn’t using his chakra in a methodical way like he did with jutsu. Magic was almost instinctive, as if it had a mind of its own. Was this how Harika felt when she used her power? Like she had a true force of nature beneath her skin, ready to be unleashed with a snap of the fingers and a thought? Honestly, he wasn’t surprised she didn’t bother with chakra when she had power like this inside her. Shikamaru had only used the magic she had embedded in the coin, but just being able to manipulate that little bit with his chakra and mind… it was euphoric not having to use jutsus, but imagination.

"I want to teach you to use your chakra," he said suddenly. Harika raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. "That man who captured you… Maybe if you’d known how to use chakra to improve your physical condition, he wouldn’t have kidnapped you."

"You mean enhancing my speed, endurance, strength, and all that?"

"Exactly. You can even temporarily heighten your senses: hearing, sight, taste…"

"…And touch?" she asked with a mischievous smile, making him swallow hard as he realized what she was implying.

He felt his pulse shake and his stomach flip. "…That too."

"Then I want to learn."

Shikamaru let out a small laugh but couldn’t deny that he was curious too. He had never used his abilities in bed. He had never been interested in sleeping with anyone. Maybe because he had never been in love, or because no one had physically excited him. People had advised him to lose his virginity with someone he trusted, or with a village civilian, but he had ignored it out of laziness.

When he started dating Temari, he knew that if he went through with it, he would eventually lose his virginity to her. It wasn’t something that excited or disgusted him, it was just… going to be another item crossed off a list. Goodbye to his first tooth, goodbye to his first kill, goodbye to his virginity. One day he’d be a virgin, and the next he wouldn’t. Simple as that. Even the times he had masturbated, thinking about fantasies instead of real people, were fairly… boring. He’d gotten physical relief, but nothing else.

Now things had changed by 180⁰ degrees. For one, he was falling in love, and Harika set his blood on fire like no one ever had. It was ironic to think that less than a month ago he thought of his virginity as something ordinary and even dull, and now he wasn’t thinking about losing his virginity, but about making love to the woman he’d fallen for. It was also ironic that he, who almost never had spontaneous erections because everything felt troublesome, was now constantly having to control himself because it seemed like his dick had developed a mind of its own overnight. The funniest part was that his romantic feelings seemed to be directly wired to it, which amused and surprised him in equal measure, and occasionally, it was poorly timed.

He imagined using his chakra to make love to Harika. Oh, the things he wanted to try. How he wanted to make her scream, beg, say his name, crave him… He had to hold himself back, feeling once again that inconvenient erection, breathing deeply to regain control. Harika must have noticed, because she winked at him, her red lips stretching into a wicked smile like a villainess. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t resist answering her teasing. If Harika wanted to play, he’d play with her…

He caught her by surprise, using his ninja speed to have her in his arms in an instant, her back pressed against his chest covered by his dark navy high-neck sweater and their hips pressed together. He placed a hand on her stomach and his lips on her neck, watching her goosebumps rise at the feel of his mouth. He licked slowly along her skin up to her ear, using his free hand to gently grab her hair and tilt her head back. He heard the gasp of surprise and desire escape her lips, feeling her tremble in his arms. As soon as his mouth was by her ear, he whispered far less than what he truly wanted to say.

"If you keep teasing me like this… I might not be able to hold back."

"Maybe I don’t want you to," she confessed softly, resting her head on his shoulder blade, leaving her neck exposed.

Upon hearing how much she desired him, he couldn’t stop the erection he had been fighting from returning. He knew she must have noticed it, since his pelvis was pressed tightly against her hips, supporting her weight. He swallowed hard, torn between following logic or giving in to instinct, but as soon as Harika placed her hand on his hip, pulling him even closer, and tilted her head to seek out his lips… every thought vanished.

Their lips met like magnets in a deep, anything-but-innocent kiss. A wave of euphoria struck him as her hips rubbed against his erection, grinding slowly while he devoured her with his lips, their tongues tangling again and again. Almost without realizing it, his hand moved up her body, caressing her torso until he noticed he had her right breast in his palm. Harika arched into him with a moan, and Shikamaru couldn't stop himself from responding.

It was too much after so little. She was there, in his arms, giving and seeking pleasure in such a way that Shikamaru’s mind went blank. All he could do was devour her and accept her surrender. He pulled her close again, flipping her over after only a split second of separating their lips—though that second felt like an eternity. Harika seemed to be waiting for him, placing her legs around his hips and pressing her hot centre against his erection just as their mouths reconnected in a wild, frenzied kiss.

She grabbed his hair, burying her hand in the dark strands without resistance, as if he had any desire to pull away. They rocked together, seeking climax, for minutes that felt far too short. He kissed her lips, her face, her neck…

He searched for her green eyes, half-lidded with pleasure as she moved her hips against his cock, and silently asked a question as he kissed her chest. He saw her nod, pushing her chest toward his mouth. Shikamaru violently tore open the buttons of her shirt, sending them flying in all directions. For a second, he admired her breasts wrapped in delicate lace that probably cost a fortune, and then he unclasped the bra with one hand while the other squeezed one of her cheeks. When he saw her delicate, pink nipples surrounded by flawless pale skin, his mouth watered.

He kissed, licked, and sucked them like a man possessed, barely hearing Harika’s moans inches from his ears as he lightly bit down on one nipple. Suddenly, he felt cool air on his bare skin and her hands scratching down his back, then his arms, then his head.

"Sh-Shikamaru!" she cried, on the edge. "More, please!"

He gave her exactly what she wanted. He laid her down on the tatami, still covered by the double futon, and ground his hips into hers with force, drawing more moans until she finally screamed his name. Shikamaru watched her, holding onto the pleasure until he couldn’t anymore and bit down on her neck, groaning, coming in his underwear. He panted for a few seconds, recovering from the most intense orgasm of his fucking life. He sought out her open, gasping mouth, her eyes clouded. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him back down. They kissed for a long time, gently, tenderly, like they couldn’t help but get lost in each other all over again.

Until he started feeling the uncomfortable wetness in his pants. He sat up, looking at her bare torso, her hair completely dishevelled, the mark of his lips on her chest, the bruise forming on her neck, and her swollen lips. He felt another jolt in his groin and knew he had to get up once and for all, or he never would. Harika looked at him too, lying on the floor with her breasts exposed, like she wanted to burn his image into her memory. The feeling of knowing she wanted him just as much as he wanted her was priceless.

"Shit, I tore your shirt," he said as he tried to button it back up after closing her bra.

"It’s fine."

He raised an eyebrow when the buttons flew back from all directions and stitched themselves in place. Harika buttoned up the shirt herself under his watchful gaze. Then she raised a hand toward him and, suddenly, he was completely clean. He lifted his other eyebrow, impressed.

"Very useful."

"If you think that’s useful..." she chuckled, eyes teasing.

"If we keep this up, we’re never leaving this room."

"Sounds good to me."

"Harika..." he sighed, smiling a smile that fooled no one. "I’m this close to throwing you over my shoulder and taking you home with me, so unless you want me to do that, we’d better get out of here."

Harika laughed, getting up and complying. He pulled his sweater back on, leaving the ninja vest aside to avoid drawing attention, and they stepped out for a walk through the tiny village.

"Now that we have a way to communicate and know what we each need to do, we should use the time we have left to get you started with chakra training. I’ll try to request another solo mission so I can come back, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to sneak away again."

She nodded. He didn’t want to talk about their goodbye, but they had only a day and a half left, and there were things that needed to be said. The coin would let them write to each other, but not speak. From what he’d seen, Harika was trying to enchant a pair of mirrors, so far without much success, to make communication easier, but who knew when she’d have that ready. He had no idea what those symbols and formulas meant, but it clearly wasn’t simple.

"What’s the first step in chakra training?"

"Well, I should explain the theory a bit more first, so you know what we’re working with."

Shikamaru and Harika sat on some logs outside the village where no one would bother them, and there he began explaining everything he knew about chakra, just as he had learned it at the academy. Harika took notes in a black leather journal with a clearly enchanted crystal pen as it didn’t need to be dipped in ink even once. After a while, once he’d explained all the essentials and she had asked every question she could think of, they stood up to start practicing.

"Why don’t you try sensing your chakra? I think it’ll come easily to you since you already use energy every day."

"Could you try touching me with your chakra?"

"Sure."

Shikamaru took her hand, happy for any excuse to touch her, and pushed a bit of his chakra toward her. Harika noticed immediately, gasping in surprise. He watched silently as she closed her eyes and focused, trying to sense her own chakra, awakened by their connection. Shikamaru felt a couple of tugs coming from her, realizing with joy that she was succeeding. He didn’t want to say anything and distract her, but he couldn’t help squeezing her hand.

"I think I’ve got it," Harika murmured. "It’s strange, but now that I know it’s there, it’s like it’s impossible not to feel it. Does that make sense?"

"More or less. Why don’t you try sending it to your ears?"

Harika spent hours practicing. Shikamaru watched closely, letting her explore on her own while he occasionally gazed at the clouds, leaning against a log. Unlike before, they didn’t speak, but interestingly, they didn’t need to. Just feeling her chakra, her presence, was as comforting as a hug. He almost wanted to close his eyes and nap, but he knew their time together was limited and he could always sleep on the way back to the village.

Still, he couldn’t stop his eyes from drooping slightly with comfort as he watched his girlfriend play with her chakra for the first time, laughing like a little girl on Christmas morning. Shikamaru couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

His girlfriend.

Notes:

I'm going on vacation for a month, so this will be the last update until mid-August. Have a great summer!

Chapter 15: Part II - V

The return to Konoha was inevitable and painful. Shikamaru didn’t want to leave, and she didn’t want him to go. It was as if his heart was being torn in two. On one hand, he had to return because that was his home, but on the other, he wanted to stay with her because Harika was becoming just as important to him as the village itself. The only reason he knew he would go back to Konoha was that he might find information there about her peculiar case. That, and because he knew they would see each other again sooner or later. The fact that he could communicate with her now had lifted a weight off his shoulders.

Despite everything, or maybe because of it, they spent their last day together glued to each other. Sometimes literally. He hugged her like a plush toy, needing his dose of her before leaving, and Harika did the same. She buried herself in his neck as if she didn’t want to face reality, and he did what he could, which was little compared to what he wished he could do.

"I have to go," he admitted, knowing he couldn’t wait any longer.

"I know."

"I promise we’ll see each other again as soon as possible," he promised. Harika nodded against his chest, melancholic, and he took her face in his hands so he could look her in the eyes. "Hey. I promise, okay?"

Suddenly, he felt those two words at the tip of his tongue. They appeared out of nowhere so strongly that it surprised him. Still, something stopped him from telling her he loved her, and when he thought about it for a moment, he realized it was his brain silencing his tongue. Until now, he had been led more by his heart than his mind when it came to Harika, but now part of him was rebelling. His mind urged him to protect his heart a little longer. It was too soon to tell her he loved her, his brain insisted, and he sighed but obeyed. Still… he wasn’t stupid, and he knew that sometimes words weren’t necessary to show affection and love.

He put all the love he felt into his goodbye kiss, taking her lips with a devotion he still couldn’t profess out loud for fear of what it meant. He caressed her chin with his thumb, savoring her delicate kiss, so different from the ones they shared the night before, yet just as incredible.

"You’ve promised me, Shikamaru. See you soon."

"See you soon," he agreed, nodding and turning around.

He ran into the forest without looking back. Barely a thousand meters in, he already felt that knot in his throat from leaving her behind. As he ran toward Konoha as fast as possible, trying to convince himself not to turn back, he realized one of the things that worried him most about leaving her was her lack of protection. If she had been living in Konoha and he was the one leaving the village for a mission, he knew he wouldn’t feel this worried because the village would offer her a safety she didn’t currently have.

That’s why he needed to pave the way for her to move in with him as smoothly as possible. Maybe, at worst, he could convince her to return with him to Konoha on one of his next visits while they kept investigating her return home. Distracted by these new plans, the journey felt lighter as he thought about everything he had to do once back in Konoha. Because there was a lot to do.

His return home was silent. It was nighttime, and everyone was sleeping. As he walked through the spacious house his family occupied, he realized something very important: he needed to move out. Until now, he hadn’t minded living with his parents because he had privacy in his room when he was in the village, and it wasn’t like he had a relationship or anyone he wanted to bring home. Now, however, things had changed.

Harika would eventually move to Konoha. Whether she did so permanently in the distant future or temporarily in a few weeks before returning to her home and then coming back again, he would need a place of his own. Maybe Harika would prefer to rent or buy something in the village independently before agreeing to live with him, which he would understand and even find logical, considering their relationship was still very, very new. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t visit him whenever she wanted.

He didn’t want to throw her to the wolves right away, nor did he want to have to explain himself to his parents every time she came over. No. He needed his own space, even a small one, where she could feel comfortable without having to pretend in front of parents she didn’t know.

The next day, instead of lazing around and postponing it as he would have weeks ago, he found himself talking to his father at breakfast. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, so his mother was still asleep, which suited him perfectly for having this conversation privately.

"I want to move out," he said bluntly, making his father choke on his first coffee of the day. They both knew he wanted something, but it was clear this wasn’t what Shikaku Nara expected. "I wanted to know if there’s any clan house I could move into."

"Where’s this coming from?"

"For privacy, obviously."

His father stared at him silently, calculating. Shikamaru knew he was weighing the reasons why he’d make such a request and that he’d arrive at a partially wrong conclusion. His father didn’t know he had broken up with Temari, unless Naruto or Temari herself had said something, so he was probably assuming correctly that Shikamaru wanted a house to invite his girlfriend over, but incorrectly assuming that girlfriend was Temari. No one knew Harika existed except Naruto, so the possibility of his father thinking he’d met someone he liked on a random mission was practically zero.

He didn’t correct him, knowing that doing so would trigger a barrage of questions he wanted to avoid at five in the morning. Still, he knew he had to tell his friends and allies that he’d broken up with Temari because he didn’t want them thinking he was disloyal or that Harika was “the other woman” or anything like that. Besides, he wanted to control the narrative in case Temari decided to… do something about it. Only six days had passed since he’d broken up with her, so his friends wouldn’t be alarmed that he’d waited a few days to tell them, especially since he’d been away on a mission in the meantime.

"Alright. I’ll have them find you a house near the forest, on the other side of the property. Does that sound good?"

"Perfect."

One problem solved. Worst case scenario, if he couldn’t access clan resources, he’d rent a house himself. He wasn’t worried about the money, given his savings and salary, but he preferred the clan’s security over any random apartment in the village.

"Heading out?" his father asked when he saw him get up and wash his cup.

"Yeah, I need to talk to Ino and Chouji. See you later."

He left home, heading toward the training grounds. He planned to train alone for a while before facing the beast. He didn’t even want to imagine what Ino would say, the questions she’d ask, her yelling… Ugh. Just thinking about it exhausted him.

He trained for a long while, clearing his mind for once, when he heard the familiar footsteps of his friends and teammates approaching. As soon as they saw him, doing kata repetitions with weights on his legs, they froze on the spot.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Shikamaru Nara?" Ino asked, folding her arms suddenly. "I’m serious. First this, and the other day you actually showed up first at the restaurant, without me dragging you!"

Shikamaru sighed, physically and mentally tired, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He removed the weights, giving himself a moment to respond, then sat on a fallen log.

"That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… I broke up with Temari."

"Seriously?"

"What!?" Ino screamed, stunned. "B-but I swear… I thought you’d end up marrying her!"

"Why?"

"Well… because… Actually, now that you mention it, I don’t know."

"I do," he cut in. "It’s because she reminds you of what my parents have, right?"

Ino thought about it, frowning, until her expression shifted to surprise again as she realized he was right. Chouji offered him some food, comforting him, before speaking much more calmly than Ino.

"I always wondered why you agreed to date her. It was obvious that half the time, when you were together, you were just tolerating her. Last time I saw you on a date, you looked like you were praying for it to end."

"I agreed to date her because she was very persistent, and you know I’ve always tried to emulate my father but not in this. I like Temari, no doubt about that, but I’m not in love with her. And it’s true that whenever I went out with her… I just wanted to go back home."

"Then you did the right thing breaking up with her," Ino nodded. "It’s not fair to her or to you to keep going like that."

"I know."

"And how did she take it?"

"Suspiciously neutral… It’s clear she didn’t take it well, but… I don’t know. She accepted my decision way too quickly for someone who’s always been so persistent, even when I rejected her the first time. Either way, my relationship with Temari is in the past."

"Are you going to tell the others?" Ino asked, watching him sigh. "Or do you want me to hint at what happened?"

"Would you do me that favor?"

"Of course. You know I love gossip. Leave it to me."

…

The following days were more chaotic than usual. His mother had raised hell when he told her he was moving into another clan house, but once she saw he wouldn’t budge and that his father wasn’t taking sides, she simply gave in and accepted his decision. Not that she had much of a choice, considering it was the first time he’d been just as stubborn as she was. It was clear his father was thinking something about all this, judging by his curious and interested looks, but he said nothing once he saw his son refuse to yield to his ever-determined wife.

The house her father had given her was small. It had a single floor, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a couple of bedrooms. The most interesting thing about the house, and he believed it was the reason why his father had given him this particular one, was the large backyard, surrounded by cedars and poplars, and the wooden pergola full of lush lavender-colored vines that separated the back porch from the garden. He needed some outdoor furniture where he could sit to have dinner or chat, but he could already imagine himself there with Harika, alone and away from the world.

He didn’t have many things to move into his new house, so in less than a day he finished bringing everything he needed, which basically consisted of clothes and not much else. He had to buy utensils and some furniture, but with a ninja scroll and a few clones, he managed to set it all up in less than a couple of hours. He even bought several cookbooks to start cooking on his own now that he was living far from his mother. He didn’t feel like dropping by her place every day to eat unless he wanted to starve.

What he really wanted to do, in truth, was find Naruto. Since he had free time, that’s exactly what he did. He had to walk around the village a couple of times, but he finally found him with Sakura at Ichiraku.

"Shikamaru!" exclaimed his friend as soon as he saw him appear. "Did you get to see her?"

"That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Naruto."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, curious, but didn’t say anything while Naruto quickly slurped his noodles and got up from the stool. He left a small bundle of bills next to his plate and said goodbye to his friend, who looked utterly confused.

"See you later, Sakura-chan."

They left the restaurant wall-side in an indefinite direction. He didn’t say anything while waiting for Naruto to lose what little patience he had, which he calculated would happen in 3…2…1…

"What the hell was that the other day?" asked Naruto, making him laugh at how predictable he was. Naruto frowned at him.

"Not here. I need a private place to tell you what happened."

"Let’s go to my place, then. There’s no one there."

Shikamaru felt a pang of compassion at hearing that. Naruto hadn’t meant it that way, but the fact that he said so casually that there was no one to bother them or waiting for him… Honestly, it hurt Shikamaru to know Naruto had no one in his life. And since Harika was becoming his moral compass, right alongside his father’s figure, he knew what she would do.

"You know, Naruto… I’ve moved. My new house is on my clan’s grounds, but I live alone, and I’ve got a guest room. If you want to come over from time to time… that’d be nice."

Naruto stopped dead in the middle of the street, just a few meters from his building’s entrance. He turned to look at him, just like he had the other day, and they stared at each other. Finally, Naruto nodded with a smile and a joke that hid more than Shikamaru had thought. It hurt again, realizing how lonely his friend felt. Considering how many friends Naruto had, there was no reason for him to feel this way all the time. Clearly, they were failing as friends.

Naruto’s apartment was small but clean and well-kept. He’d been there a couple of times before, but he promised himself he’d visit more often. They sat down on a couple of chairs around the small round table that stood between the L-shaped kitchen and the sofa.

"So? Why did you make that face when Temari showed up? You looked like a dead man walking."

"Temari was my girlfriend. I broke up with her that same day. I only dated Temari for a month, and that was because she convinced me. The thing is, I met Harika on a mission. I got injured, and she healed me. I stayed with her for a few days and, well…"

"You liked her?" Naruto smirked, half-joking, half-serious.

"‘Liked’ is an understatement," he laughed abruptly. "Being with her made me realize a lot of things. One of them was that I couldn’t stay with Temari because I don’t love her."

"I see… Now everything makes sense."

"What does?"

"Sakura told me, who heard it from Ino, that you told her you’d broken up with Temari. Something about not being in love with her and not wanting to repeat your parents’ mistakes."

"That’s true," he admitted, realizing that Ino had understood more than he had said. "Knowing how I feel about Harika, it was obvious I couldn’t stay with Temari."

"And what’s she like?"

Seeing Naruto watch him attentively, genuinely interested in what he had to say, broke his resolve. He found himself reciting everything he knew about her: what he liked, what amused him, what excited him. He talked about how they’d spent the last few days together thanks to her help, how they’d become a couple without hesitation, how they’d discussed returning to Konoha, and why he’d moved.

With every passing minute, Naruto’s eyebrows climbed higher while he clearly suppressed a smile.

"Damn, Shikamaru. You’re totally gone. You were right when you said she might be the love of your life. If you already feel like this… I can’t imagine how you’ll be in a few years."

"Neither can I, but I’m looking forward to finding out."

"And this whole personality transplant of yours, is that her doing too?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you’d never have invited me to your house before," Naruto admitted. "Maybe you wouldn’t have minded if I came, but you’d never have initiated it. Not because you didn’t want to see me, but out of laziness. You didn’t used to have this much… initiative, let’s say."

"…Sorry for taking so long to offer, Naruto. Really… You know we’re friends, right? You’re one of my best friends, like Chouji and Ino, like the others. I’m sorry it took someone like Harika for me to realize it."

"So the personality transplant is her doing," Naruto laughed, eyes bright with unshed tears. Shikamaru said nothing, hearing the emotion in his voice.

"I guess things are different now, yeah. Now, whenever I’m at a crossroads, I think about her and what she’d do. She’s so different from me in some ways, but I care about her so much that she helps me think differently. My father has always been my role model, but since we’re alike, it’s obvious I’d be prone to making the same mistakes because we think similarly."

"Either way, I’m glad. You used to seem so distant, and now it feels like you’re actually living your life."

"That’s true."

"Well, what’s the next part of your plan? You said you wanted to know if she felt the same, and she does. So now what?"

"Now I need to figure out how to get her back home… and also how to make sure she can return," he admitted with a sigh.

He knew that if he wanted help, he needed to reveal a key piece of information, but Harika hadn’t given him permission… Still, Naruto had influence with the Hokage, so he’d need him to get access to classified documents and maybe adjust his missions to see Harika. Plus, Naruto was his friend, and he knew he could trust him. Thinking about it that way, he hoped Harika would understand that he needed to tell Naruto the truth if he wanted to move forward with his plan to get her home.

"What I’m about to tell you is a secret," he said as sternly as possible. Naruto raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. "You can’t tell anyone, got it?"

"I promise."

"Alright. The thing is… Harika isn’t from around here, let’s say."

He proceeded to explain enough for Naruto to understand the full context. Naruto didn’t call him crazy; instead, he seemed curious and amused by what he was hearing. Finally, he nodded when Shikamaru explained what Harika had been doing these past few days to find clues about how to return home.

"So you’re going to investigate here in Konoha while she works outside, right?"

"Yeah."

"Makes sense," he nodded again. A few seconds later, a mischievous smile crossed his face. "So… when do I get to meet her?"

Shikamaru stared at his friend in exasperation. He knew Naruto was going to ask something like that. Naruto was far too curious not to try after everything he’d told him about her.

"As you can imagine, I can’t just leave the village whenever I want."

"Leave it to me. I’ll get us a mission, and meanwhile, you check for clues in Konoha’s library and archives. With a little luck, you’ll find something useful."

"If I don’t, I’m going to need access to restricted documents," he warned, knowing he’d need Naruto’s help for that. "I’d rather not have to ask my father."

The last thing he wanted was his father’s piercing gaze following him everywhere in the village. That was one of the reasons he hadn’t explained the real reason behind wanting his new house. He knew it was inevitable that his father would hear rumors about his breakup with Temari, which meant he’d realize Shikamaru had no real reason to move. That alone would make his father keep an even closer eye on him than usual, but if he could avoid it, even for a few days, all the better.

"I’ll handle it."

…

Just a few days later, he found himself back in the Hokage’s office. The moment he saw Naruto’s sly grin, who had, curiously, arrived before him, and noticed Sakura and Sai were present, he knew Naruto had done it again. He had to contain his excitement as he figured out the reason for their visit to the Hokage’s tower.

"Now that everyone’s here. Shizune, the documents," Tsunade-sama ordered.

"Here you go, Shikamaru-san."

Shikamaru read through the relevant documents, ignoring Naruto snooping next to him, and considered what he could do to carry out his mission and see his girlfriend again. He was certain he’d need Naruto’s help, but that wasn’t going to be a problem. After all, Naruto had secured this mission to meet Harika himself. The real issue would be Sakura and Sai. Fortunately, he could now communicate with Harika, so they could meet at specific coordinates without him needing to search for her. The less time he spent away from his team, the less suspicious they’d be.

It wasn’t that he wanted to keep his girlfriend a secret, but… part of him worried about overwhelming her by introducing her to his not-so-normal friends, and another part wanted to keep her to himself a little longer. What? Yeah, he was more possessive than expected.

"Are we heading straight to the attack coordinates?" Sakura asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. I want to investigate the area. They probably have a base somewhere nearby."

The mission was a rescue-and-capture type. Rogue ninjas, now acting like bandits, had attacked several villages in the Land of Fire, up north. They’d kidnapped civilians and raided armories, which had brought the matter to Konoha’s attention. He was certain they’d expect an attack, and Tsunade-sama surely thought the same, so it made sense to send a team like his. Naruto might be a genin on paper, but he had jonin-level skills, Sai had been trained as an ANBU since the start, and Sakura was the team’s medic; though he hoped they wouldn’t need her abilities.

The journey was relatively short, partly because they were fresh, just out of the village, and partly because they were getting closer to Harika. He’d already sent her a short message with the coin. She knew where he was headed, so he hoped she could get as close as possible without putting herself in danger. He’d also warned her to stay safe, considering the bandits roaming the area. Still, something told him she could protect herself easily. He hadn’t yet seen her use her abilities beyond crafting the coin or turning a stone into a bird, but he was eager to find out what else she could do.

When they arrived, it was already midday, so they took a break to eat and talk.

"How are we going to proceed?"

"We’ll split into two groups: Sakura, you go with Sai, and Naruto comes with me. I want to investigate the last raid site and the abduction area. Even if it’s unlikely, if you encounter the enemy, avoid engaging without the whole team present," he said. The others nodded without protest. "With a little luck, we’ll find a lead or even a trail to follow."

"I’d like to examine the abduction site. Maybe I can figure out the civilians’ condition and prepare for any eventuality."

Shikamaru nodded, accepting Sakura’s reasoning. He doubted she could deduce much about their condition from the site alone, but it was never a bad idea to try and anticipate things. After their improvised meal, they split up in the middle of the forest.

When he was finally alone with Naruto, he saw him start grinning from ear to ear.

"You’ve already talked to her, haven’t you?"

"Yeah."

"Is she nearby?"

"I’ll send her the coordinates of the last raided village. That way I can see her while investigating the crime scene," he answered, trying to sound as professional and serious as possible, even though he was bending the rules.

He sent Harika the coordinates as they started running toward the village. They arrived quickly and wasted no time questioning locals and searching for clues. He almost forgot she was coming, almost,  when he felt her presence brushing against his senses. Shikamaru turned slightly, nodding absently at the information the armory owner was giving him, but his gaze drifted toward Harika standing beneath a tree’s shade in the distance. He had to summon all his willpower not to leave the man talking to himself. All he wanted was to run to her and kiss her. Damn it, who would’ve thought being in love felt like this?

He noticed Naruto approaching, keeping his girlfriend firmly in his peripheral vision as he spoke to his informant, and watched as he went up to her.

"Excuse me, are you a local resident?" he asked, assuming she was another villager.

Harika, still smiling, looked at Naruto. The moment she saw his ninja headband, he knew she’d figured out he was part of Shikamaru’s world. No, Shikamaru was sure his girlfriend already knew who Naruto was just from his descriptions of his friends. When she smiled at him, he knew he was right.

"You must be Naruto, right?"

"Huh? But—wait a sec!" Naruto quickly turned to Shikamaru, grinning wider by the second, then spun back to Harika with the excitement of a child. "You must be Harika, dattebayo!"

"That’s right."

"I can’t believe it. Shikamaru was telling the truth."

Harika laughed, and for a moment, Shikamaru couldn’t focus on anything but his girlfriend’s bright eyes and beautiful smile.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, Naruto. Shikamaru told me that thanks to you, we were able to see each other the other day," Harika said. Naruto, hearing her genuine gratitude, blushed.

"It was nothing. Shikamaru’s my friend."

"Then I hope we can be friends too."

"Of course!"

Shikamaru shook his head with a smile, watching how quickly Naruto and Harika connected. If he didn’t know Harika loved him, he might even have felt jealous…

Chapter 16: Part III - I

Naruto was exactly as Shikamaru had described him, and yet different; or perhaps Shikamaru’s descriptions lacked those little nuances that seemed like “trivial details” but turned out to be the key to truly understanding something or someone. Either way, Naruto had won her over from the very first moment. He reminded her of a mix between the Weasley twins, Neville, and Hermione: cheerful and playful like the twins, shy and insecure in some things like Neville, but with Hermione’s same unshakable determination and willpower.

It was a shame that Shikamaru was somewhat distracted interrogating someone, but at least, thanks to that, she could give Naruto, the first friend she’d met from her brand-new boyfriend, her full attention. She still couldn’t help the little excited smile that appeared every time she remembered that Shikamaru was, in fact, her boyfriend. She still couldn’t quite believe it. Who would have imagined that her first boyfriend, not just a fling but a real boyfriend, would be a “muggle” with special powers that would make plenty of pure-bloods cry with envy?

She had spent the last few days seriously thinking about it, which is why she’d been able to give Shikamaru an answer during their second meeting. The truth was, she had felt a connection with him from the very first time they met, so when he left during those sad days, the only thing she could do was think. She thought about him, about their connection, about her old world, about this new one… but everything always came back to one question: could she leave the magical world behind to stay with Shikamaru in this ninja world? The answer was yes.

She’d debated the pros and cons with herself, not even knowing if Shikamaru would return to find her, realizing she was jumping ahead of herself because she really liked him, more than she’d ever liked anyone before. The fact that she could see herself, imagine herself, with Shikamaru made her think about everything she’d be leaving behind if she was right and he liked her back.

And what would she leave behind? The magical world, the muggle world, and her family. She would miss the comfort of the magical world with its instant travel and enchanted homes, its mind-blowing magical inventions… and from the muggle world, perhaps she’d miss exploring new cultures. But essentially, there was nothing in the muggle world that captivated her more than magic did. Most importantly, of course, was her family as they were irreplaceable. The real question was: if she could easily travel between dimensions, would she choose to live with Shikamaru? Again, the answer came easily: yes. If she could travel freely, it would be like having her family in England while living in another country. She would miss them every day, but she’d always have the security of being able to visit them whenever she wanted.

But… what if she couldn’t return home? Or, on the other hand, what if, after managing to return to her dimension, she couldn’t come back to this one, this world where Shikamaru lived? That was the question that kept her up at night. If she couldn’t travel between dimensions, that would mean losing something important: either her family or Shikamaru. She didn’t want to imagine having to choose, because a large part of her was already questioning her sanity. How could she even think about staying with Shikamaru, a boy she’d known for only a few weeks, instead of choosing her family, the people who had fought by her side for years? And yet, she knew that leaving Shikamaru behind would break something inside her. What, exactly, she didn’t know.

Fortunately, something deep down told her there had to be a way, and she knew that with Shikamaru’s intellect and her sometimes uncanny luck, they’d eventually find it.

"Do you mind if I make a few clones to get my work done?" asked Naruto, interrupting her deep thoughts.

"Not at all."

Harika watched in fascination as he created five identical clones, all of them greeting her before disappearing in a burst of speed. The original Naruto stayed behind with her so they could keep talking.

"So, you’re Shikamaru’s girlfriend… You must be a little crazy," Naruto said with a mischievous smile, making her laugh. "No, seriously… Shikamaru’s told me a lot about you. Probably because I’m the only one who knows the truth."

"You must be pretty special, Naruto. I’m still getting to know Shikamaru, but I know he’s a very private person. I’m sure he wouldn’t tell just anyone all of this so easily."

Naruto blushed, scratching the back of his head as if he wasn’t used to receiving compliments, then chuckled. Harika noticed Shikamaru nodding from afar, their eyes meeting briefly again before he finally finished his interrogation and came back, leaving the civilian behind.

"And what exactly has Shikamaru told you about me?" she asked.

"He said you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen," Naruto replied, surprising her and making her blush. Did Shikamaru really say that? "And that you saved his life, and took care of him for days like an invalid."

"I was not an invalid, Naruto!"

Shikamaru sighed in exasperation, shooting his friend a look that reminded her of Ron arguing with his brothers, before turning his gaze to her. As if his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn toward her, his expression softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, much to Naruto’s obvious surprise.

"Harika."

"Shikamaru," she replied, suppressing a laugh when she saw the hesitation in his eyes, wondering whether to kiss her or not. When she raised an eyebrow, almost challenging him, Shikamaru shoved Naruto aside and pulled her into his arms.

She felt his hand in her hair just before their lips met again. She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her chest firmly against his. Being in his arms felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Before they could deepen the moment, a forced cough broke them apart.

Harika stifled a laugh, hiding her face against Shikamaru’s neck, but it didn’t go unnoticed that, despite being watched by one of his friends, Shikamaru didn’t let go of her.

"You two don’t have much time before Sakura-chan and Sai show up, so I’ll leave you alone while I check in with my clones," Naruto said.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Naruto," she said, lifting her head just enough to meet his gaze.

"Likewise."

She watched Naruto’s back disappear into the crowd, then felt Shikamaru’s quiet sigh against the top of her head.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Come on. I need to quickly catch you up on what’s been happening these past few days."

Harika followed Shikamaru until they were shielded from prying eyes. Under the shade of a tree, away from the main path, she listened as he explained what little he’d managed to do since they last said goodbye.

"The first thing I did was move out," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "For several reasons, but mainly to have privacy while I research your… situation. And also, in case you ever moved to Konoha, we’d be able to see each other more easily without my parents’ interference. With Naruto’s help, I’ll gain access to more confidential documents. I’ll probably find something there."

"I’ve been investigating too, following our plan, but… nothing," she sighed. "I’ve been thinking maybe it’s not worth wasting time checking small villages anymore. Maybe it’d be better to try a temple first. If they don’t have anything there, I doubt a small village could help us."

"That’s a good idea. There aren’t many big temples in the Land of Fire. It’ll be much easier to rule out whether they have any leads compared to going from village to village. Worst case, if you don’t find anything in a temple, you can always go back to the original plan."

They talked for a while, as much as they could, knowing Shikamaru would have to leave soon. He was in the middle of a mission and, from what she’d overheard, he hadn’t come alone. When her patience finally ran out, realizing he wasn’t catching her hints, she simply sighed with a soft smile and rose onto her toes. Shikamaru froze for only a second, immediately catching on, and met her halfway for a kiss.

She felt her boyfriend’s tongue brush against her lips, asking for permission, and she parted them. Shikamaru’s hand cupped her cheek gently as they melted into a deep kiss. Her fingers gripped his vest tightly, unable to let go, her mind going blissfully blank like it always did whenever Shikamaru’s lips touched hers. It was like losing all sense of time and space. It was incredible… and dangerous. What was this man doing to her?

Until very recently, she had never thought of a man with the same seriousness with which she thought of Shikamaru. She’d never imagined a future with anyone, had never even planned one. Maybe because some part of her hadn’t believed she’d survive the war, maybe because no one had ever enchanted her like Shikamaru did. And to think… she’d only had to cross dimensions to find someone who could make her skin tingle and her breath hitch with just a glance.

She felt Shikamaru’s nose brush against her cheek as he kissed her like they’d been apart for weeks instead of just five days. They broke apart only a few inches, breathing heavily, gazing into each other’s eyes. He kissed her lips softly once more before brushing her cheek with his thumb. Harika closed her eyes as her boyfriend kissed her face with quiet devotion. He hadn’t said the words out loud, but she could feel it in his kisses… Shikamaru felt something deep for her. Something she wasn’t sure she dared to call love, yet.

She opened her eyes to study him, memorizing his face for the darker days she knew would come. She knew he would have to leave again. And just as she thought it… Naruto appeared, and Shikamaru turned to look at his comrade with a resigned sigh.

"You have to go," she whispered, her throat tightening. He nodded, resting his forehead against hers.

"I don’t want to go."

"I know… but you have to."

Shikamaru nodded. They didn’t speak, just breathed the same air for a long moment. Finally, gathering strength from somewhere she couldn’t name, Harika stepped back. Shikamaru let her go, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. She could almost feel the tension radiating off him, so she lifted her hand and placed it softly against his freshly shaved cheek, nodding once.

"I’ll see you soon."

"Promise."

"Go."

Harika watched him leave with Naruto, feeling the same deep sadness she always did whenever she saw her boyfriend walk away, never knowing when she’d see him again. Before she could make her way back into the village to book a room for a couple of days, Naruto appeared again.

"Naruto? I thought you’d already left."

"The original has. I’m a clone," he explained, raising an eyebrow when she tilted her head in curiosity, then smiling. "I just wanted to say we can try to stay in touch through my summons. If you want, that is…"

"Of course!"

Any contact was better than nothing. She was honestly surprised that Naruto was the one offering to keep communication going, considering they’d just met.

"Does Shikamaru know?"

"No. I’m not sure it’ll work. Ideally, you’d be able to summon my toads directly, but since that’s not possible, I’ll have to try sending them somewhere closer to you. If it takes too long to reach you, then there’s no point in keeping at it."

"I see," she murmured thoughtfully. Then, suddenly, an idea hit her so fast she almost smacked her forehead against a tree. "I’ve got it!"

"Got what?"

"A Portkey."

"A… what?"

"It’s an enchanted object that lets you travel instantly from one place to another using fixed coordinates. I could give you a Portkey for your toads. Though every time I move locations, I’d have to give you a new one. Ugh, I should have given one to Shikamaru before he left!"

"Actually, better not. Let my toads test it first."

"Sure, sure. I’ll be here for a few days and then I’m heading to the nearest temple. I’ll give you a couple of Portkeys just in case."

"Perfect!"

Naruto vanished in a flash, too fast for her to even see him properly, carrying the two Portkeys she’d created with different coordinates. Finally, truly alone this time, she walked toward the village centre. As she looked out the window of the inn she’d booked, watching the sun set, she felt lonelier than before but also more hopeful.

…

The first letter from Naruto was long and so genuine that it made her smile.

"Dear Harika,

It's the first time I've ever written a letter! Even though I have some friends far from Konoha, it never occurred to me to write correspondence, but there's always a first time.

I don’t know what Shikamaru has told you about me, but I doubt he’s told you everything. I've been thinking these last few days about what I could write here, also wondering if it was wise to write certain things, when I realized that you're going to become an integral part of me. Shikamaru is one of my best friends, and you are now a big part of his life, and you will be in the future. Doesn't it make sense for us to get to know each other? Shikamaru trusts you, and I trust Shikamaru, so I’d like us to truly get to know each other. At first, I didn’t know what to say to you, but then I understood that I just had to start from the beginning."

Harika read the sincere words of her new friend, sheltered in her small, modest room, taking advantage of the faint lamplight. She could almost hear Naruto's voice in her mind as she read: the unknown identity of his parents, his lonely and dark childhood, the discovery of the Kyubi inside him, his journey as a ninja, the loss of Sasuke to Orochimaru, and his friendships in Konoha, especially with Shikamaru.

The five pages Naruto had written were like a diary to his mind and heart, and her stomach tightened as she realized the pain seeping from the first pages, up until Naruto found Team 7. While reading, she realized how similar they were. She, too, had lost her parents, though fortunately, she knew who they were. She couldn’t even imagine what Naruto must have felt, growing up without knowing who his parents were; the parents who, for one reason or another, abandoned him to his fate on the day he was born. She didn’t want to imagine what it would have been like if everyone had known she was a Horcrux and had tormented her for something that hadn’t been her fault.

She noticed her hand trembling as she held the letter, understanding Naruto's pain all too well because she had felt something similar. And yet, despite the pain and suffering, Naruto was so much stronger than she was. He had taken life by the horns, laughing in the face of everyone, refusing to let his enemies break him. She felt hopeful as she read the last sentences and realized that Shikamaru also seemed to have understood just how lonely Naruto felt and how much he could grow as a friend.

"…I don’t know how you did it, but thank you. Now Shikamaru seems to be living the life he wants. He no longer looks exhausted by existence but eager to start living with you. Thank you."

Harika wiped her tears when she saw that, despite everything, Naruto was grateful to her. Damn. She had thought ninjas were mostly mercenaries without a conscience, and here were Shikamaru and Naruto breaking her expectations. Maybe the ninja from Kiri wasn’t the rule but the exception.

She had to wait a few hours to calm herself before she could begin writing her own letter. It wasn’t the letter she had thought she’d write when Naruto’s clone had suggested it, but something about the sincerity of her new friend made her feel safe enough to trust him. Naruto had told her everything, and she would do the same.

She wrote about her parents and their death, about her “family” and her childhood, about discovering Hogwarts and her new friendships, about her adventures year after year, and her escape as a wanted criminal pursued by Voldemort’s corrupt government. She told him about her death and Dumbledore’s manipulation. She told him about her return to life and the pain she had felt. She told him about her recovery and her journey.

Writing through letters was almost cathartic. She knew Naruto would understand her pain, just as Shikamaru had. Still, she enchanted the pages so no one but him could read them. She trusted Naruto, but she wasn’t stupid.

While waiting for Naruto’s reply, she left the village, flying toward the nearest temple. In her free moments, she thought about Shikamaru, about her family, and she remembered her pain and Naruto’s. She flew until her wings ached, avoiding being seen during the day, and tormented herself thinking about what would happen if-… No. She couldn’t lose hope. Just as she’d told Shikamaru, she knew he wouldn’t give up. She wasn’t going to give up either. She looked at the enchanted coin she used to communicate with him and mentally noted to ask Naruto to deliver a letter to her boyfriend.

The following letters, however, were different. Less traumatic, less intense. Her letter to Shikamaru was delivered, but according to Naruto, he had gone on a mission with a squad, far from Konoha. She didn’t know how long it would take him to return, but Naruto was certain it would be a while since, from what he understood, the mission took place in the Land of Wind.

"It’s a shame you didn’t find anything. I’m surprised. I thought the temple would have some answers," Naruto had written in his third letter. "Are you going to try another temple? I recommend the Fire Temple. It’s the largest in the Land of Fire. It even has ninja monks! Maybe they have a lead."

Harika pulled out her map of the Land of Fire, carefully inspecting every detail as she searched for the famous temple. She found it much farther east, in a place called Renzu, relatively close to another large city called Otafuku Gai. It would take days to get there, less if she didn’t make too many stops and slept in her enchanted trunk, but she would manage.

When she arrived days later, she observed the temple from her animal form. She watched them from so far away that no one seemed to notice her presence. Still, she didn’t dare approach for fear of being discovered. She didn’t know if they could detect her human presence even in her animal form, but the fact that Naruto had warned her the monks were also ninjas was a clear warning.

She watched them carry out their tasks with military precision. They trained hard and worked just as hard. Their strict work ethic almost made her feel out of place. One of them, however, clearly needed therapy. He was a grey-haired boy who seemed furious at the world. The monks looked at him with suspicion, some even with hatred glinting in their eyes. If she could see that from so far away… she didn’t want to imagine what it must feel like to be him right now.

She studied the guards’ routines for a couple of days until she finally decided to sneak into the library she had spotted earlier. She was about to transform back into her human form, using the darkness as her ally so she could use her hands, when she heard the footsteps of two monks walking determinedly down the hallway. She froze, listening as they whispered.

"This is the third grave that’s been desecrated," whispered an older-sounding man. "We must do something, Chiriku."

"You’re right, Bansai-sama, but we cannot neglect our duties at the temple. Now more than ever, they’re essential."

"I know. I’m worried about Sora. His anger grows with each passing day. It’s like a cup about to overflow, and soon it will spill onto us all."

"I’ll request a mission from Konoha. With a bit of luck, they’ll catch the culprits quickly."

"Good thinking, Chiriku."

Harika listened as they walked away, her mind racing at what she had just overheard. If she had to bet her hand, she would swear Sora was the outcast boy she’d seen earlier. But who would desecrate a monk’s grave? From what she’d seen, they didn’t live in luxury, quite the opposite. She doubted the graves had anything valuable, so why do it? She felt curious to uncover the truth, but finally shook her head and transformed.

She spent part of the night tirelessly copying files. There was no point reading them in the middle of the night. The last thing she wanted was to create light and get caught distracted. No. It was better to copy the material and review it safely inside her trunk.

The next letter to Naruto included what she had overheard at the temple. She didn’t want to interfere, but maybe it could help him somehow.

"Naruto!?" she exclaimed a couple of days later when she saw him appear with his Portkey instead of the toad. "What are you doing here?"

"I’m a clone. I just wanted to check on you. I got your letter just now, and when I read it, I knew you were in danger."

"And how do you know that?"

"My team has been assigned to this mission," Naruto said with a mischievous grin. "Luckily, I didn’t have to do anything to convince the Old Lady. It must be fate! I know a bit more than you do, so I know Shikamaru wouldn’t like you being around here right now."

Harika raised an eyebrow but avoided getting offended. Shikamaru and Naruto didn’t want her getting hurt. If she had been in their place, she would have thought and said the same. That’s why she calmed herself and thought rationally. Clearly, if they were sending a ninja team so quickly, the matter had to be more serious than she had assumed. She didn’t want to get involved and risk being kidnapped again, so she reluctantly nodded and assured him she would stay away for as long as necessary.

"Besides, I have enough material to keep me busy reading for days…"

"I’m glad to hear that, though I’d be even more relieved if you were in Konoha. Safe. Away from danger."

"I could fall down my own stairs and break my neck!" she said, exasperated, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, and I could get struck by lightning right now and drop dead, but it’s obvious that if you were in Konoha, dying from a ‘ninja attack’ would be a lot less likely," Naruto scoffed, rolling his eyes too.

"How’s Shikamaru? Have you given him the letter yet?"

"He hasn’t returned yet, but I’ve heard he should be back soon. See, if you were in Konoha, you’d be the first to know your boyfriend made it back safe and sound."

"Such shameless manipulation won’t work on me, Naruto!"

Naruto’s laughter was the last thing she heard before the clone vanished in a puff of smoke. The thing was, Naruto wasn’t lying, but she was. Naruto’s manipulation was more powerful than she wanted to admit.

…

Despite having promised she’d stay out of it, her curiosity got the better of her. She spent days watching Naruto’s team fight criminals and deal with Sora. Anyone who had seen her in her eagle form, beak and eyes wide in astonishment, would’ve burst out laughing. What kind of power was that? It was malicious and… could the Kyubi really be a demon? She couldn’t imagine that creature living inside Naruto.

She was so engrossed in what was happening that she didn’t even open a single scroll she’d copied. However, the enchanted coin let her know that Shikamaru was safe.

"Rtrnng-hm. Mss-u-," she read, smiling at the words.

"M-2. B-sfe," she replied.

Harika glanced at Naruto, who was joking around with his team as they prepared to return to Konoha, then turned her gaze back to the temple. She had the coordinates, so she could return whenever she wanted with a Portkey, but… how was she supposed to get into Konoha? She didn’t even know what she had to do. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that moving, even temporarily, to Konoha was the best option. She could leave the village unnoticed as long as she had the coordinates of the places she wanted to visit, and Naruto was right to remind her that the village was much safer for anyone, civilian or ninja, than the forests of the Land of Fire. And besides… Shikamaru would be there.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized there was no point in wandering around the country anymore. What had it gotten her? Nothing. She was worried about her powers being discovered in Konoha, but if she didn’t do anything to reveal herself, who would know? She could act like a civilian "muggle" if necessary and sneak away when she needed to continue her research. Yes. She had decided. She was going to move to Konoha.

"Dear Naruto,

You’ve convinced me. I’ve decided the best thing is to move to Konoha. Moving to the village doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon my research, but if I can continue it in the safest way possible… It would be foolish to keep living out in the open.

I need your help to move to Konoha. I need papers and a place to rent. I’d ask Shikamaru, but I’d like to surprise him. Can I count on you?

Your friend,

Harika."

Notes:

Hello, everyone. This story is the translation of the original in Spanish. It was created at the request of fans of another one of my stories and is designed to feature a fem!Harry/Shikamaru pairing.

If you enjoy HP/Naruto crossovers, you might like my other work, which is also available in English.

Best regards,
A.M.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of The Wishing Well
• Part 4 of Fem!Harry Potter