Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me
Have been on a ShikaIno kick this past weekend and this story was screaming at me to be written so here it is. And if my exam grades suffer because of it...then so be it (sigh)...
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Once upon a time, there was a village called Konoha. It was a ninja village, meaning most the villagers, in what appeared to be a peaceful, prosperous place, were either regular folk, or people who had killed someone by the time they were ten. Not only that, but these killing machines were praised for it, encouraged to develop more and more deadly attacks in a time where hesitation or mercy were nothing more than a cry for death.
So this story is about death and mayhem, you ask? No, not exactly. It's more about the kinds of relationships that flourish in this type of atmosphere. It's about the story of two people whose lives are defined by their lifestyles and more importantly, by each other.
Our tale begins on that fateful night when two children were born in Konoha Hospital. The stars were shining and the sky was clear, but both of the two fathers were too busy to notice. No, they were too busy pacing and sweating out in the hallway, occasionally clutching at each other while a third friend sat on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs and munched on a riceball. As the sound of crying broke the air, the two men rushed towards the doors of the delivery rooms, each rejoicing at the sight of a bundle of tiny limbs and a scrunched-up red face.
The newly-born babies, which just so happen to be the main characters of this story, were placed in the nearby baby ward. Blissfully oblivious of their proud papas as they stood beaming at them from the room window, the babies yawned simultaneously because, well, because that's what babies do. Isn't it odd how yawning seems to be contagious? I mean, the person next to you could be yawning and then, all of a sudden, you feel this inexplicable urge to do the same…
But we're getting off topic here. Why don't we listen in on the fathers since the babies don't seem to be doing any talking yet?
"Oi Inoshi, you decided what you're going to name her yet?"
The blonde man grinned, swiping a chip from his other friend who protested, but not too loudly. After all, the man did just have a baby.
"Yeah, Ino. Yamanaka Ino. The wife picked it."
"Nice. Wife picked out our boy's as well…Shikamaru."
"Not bad, Shikato. Funny how they sound pretty much like our names. Actually, it's funny how both of them were born at pretty much the same time. Midori wasn't due until next week."
The tall, black-haired man shrugged.
"Well, my boy was due last week. The wife was throwing a fit back home about how he was probably too lazy to come out on time. Takes after his old man, I'd say."
His chest puffed out proudly as he glanced back at the little blue bundle. A faint layer of dark fuzz could be seen on the baby's head. He did indeed appear to take after his old man. Pulling out a cigarette, Shikato was about to light it when a familiar voice, heavy with exhaustion yet still loud enough to clearly convey her irritation, travelled up the hallway.
"Don't you dare light that, Shikato! This is a hospital and…"
Alright, let's leave them there. We don't really need to see a grown man hastily hide his own cigarette in his pocket as if his wife could somehow see through walls. Or maybe she could, considering the miraculous way she knew what he was doing…but that's beside the point. It's probably better if we check in on the hero and heroine before retreating for tonight.
The tiny baby girl, Ino as her father told us, was fidgeting under her blanket. Her lips were forming what might be considered a miniature pout before opening wide in a loud cry.
Her father turned back anxiously to the window before a passing nurse reassured him that that was something all babies did. He was just commenting smugly on how healthy she sounded while his friends were wincing at the incredible noise level she was reaching when the three men witnessed the beginning of it all.
Little baby Shikamaru opened his eyes and turned his head to face whatever it was that had woken him up. Now, we're not sure how clearly he could see since he was a mere three or four hours old but what we are sure of, is what happened next.
A small chubby arm appeared from within the folds of the blue blanket and stretched out towards the baby girl on his left. A tiny gurgle escaped his lips at the same time. Amazingly enough, little Ino seemed to hear it despite her incessant wailing. The cries quieted and gradually stopped as she blinked a pair of wide blue eyes at her companion.
The men watched silently as a similarly chubby arm emerged from the folds of the pink blanket and appeared to be grasping towards her right. As the two fell asleep in this position, Inoshi and Shikato glanced at each other.
"So…"
"So…"
The looks on both their faces was contemplative. For you see, despite their behaviour, neither men were stupid. If they were, neither of them would have been made Jounins, one of the highest ninja ranks in the village. And the two of them had been friends long enough to know what the other was thinking when almost identical grins stretched across both their faces.
"Ino, huh?"
"Shikamaru, huh?"
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A/N: This is the first time I've written in this style and acknowledgement must be given to 'Another Typical Love Story' by EneriRenie - a definite must-read for ShikaIno fans! Anyways, I'm still uncertain as to whether I want to continue the entire story in this narrative style so please feel free to tell me how you feel about it!