Loved, a naruto fanfic

Songfic to Maroon 5's song 'She Will Be Loved' which just screams ShikaIno. :D

Thanks to Kaka-C, fireylight, burping goddess and Evil Towel for the beta-ing.

I apologise in advance for the confusion you will undoubtedly face trying to wade through this fic; I was writing with the music and just penned whatever images the song brought into my mind. I've already tried as much as possible to tweak the formatting so the story is easier to follow. :)

- Bold for song lyrics
- Italics for random other stuff including thoughts and past events (go figure ^^;)
- Two main parts to the story: the present (in present tense) and a bunch of past memories (past tense)
- '-' separates past events and '==' bounds the present one
- Timeframe jumps back and forth (even among the past events)
- Every section is connected in some (vague, metaphorical, hardly obvious) way to the song lyrics
- As Evil Towel said, try rereading many times (and visualise the scenes) and look underneath the underneath!
- Listening with the song helps :)

Disclaimer: Credit for Naruto goes to Masashi Kishimoto, She Will Be Loved to Maroon 5.

Loved

She's always been loved.

There are many kinds of love in this world.

There is the love for your brothers and sisters, the love for your friends, the passionate love that consumes and wants, and the compassionate love that smiles on the other party.

Then there is the self-sacrificing love.

"Sasuke-kun!"

"Am I supposed to know you?"

Her birthday passed a few days ago, quiet and uncelebrated. A few candles blown in the dim enclave of her house, a muted song sung by two worried voices. She didn't want any fanfare, didn't like the attention. She had changed, or maybe she was tired of pretending; to be in control, to be happy. She had finally become an adult, but he saw an old woman in her eyes. Light blue eyes dull, she was tired, light blond hair seems maybe whiter than it should, the shoulder-length strands clinging too desperately to the curves of her neck. She was fitter now, the muscles more pronounced, just like her cheekbones, her face thinner than it used to be.

Love ate away at her, that's what she told him. Gravely, her face taut and the lines visible on her face. He told her not to be stupid, stop training so fanatically, and what kind of love made people try to self-destruct? Though he's the one being stupid, he has known the acrid bitter-sweet taste of that love since a long time ago. She smiled at him, turned those limpid sky-faded eyes towards him, and told him.

There are many different kinds of love, Shikamaru.

Her parents had asked him, that time they had bumped into him after so long, they had asked him why. He had said he didn't know, but he did. There was only one person whose mere existence could push her to this circumstance. He knew the quest for her strength, and her bitterness, the flailing hope. She used to talk to him, before he had been promoted from the team they had been in since genin years.

Talk to him. She searched him out wherever he was. Lying in the long-stemmed grass staring at the clouds, sitting at his room window spacing out over the village buildings, strolling through the streets hands tucked behind his head.

"Sasuke-kun won't talk to me."

Then she'd stopped. And he'd searched her out instead. Wherever she was, crying in the woody area they trained, glaring at the moon from the bed in her room, gazing blankly at the wall of her family's flower shop.

"I'm not good enough for Sasuke-kun."

He started bringing a handkerchief with him, white with an embroidered border and the faint scent of oranges.

Just before he left, he told her you can look for me. But she didn't.

"How many flowers does your mother want a week?"

He was standing at the porch of the flower shop again, staring at the paint-embossed wooden sign YAMANAKA FLOWER SHOP perched above the door again; wondering what he was doing here again.

It was the routine. He was too used to taking this course during his walks, that was why all his midday strolls ended up with him lounging outside her family's shop, buying flowers his mother did not need. Not in the recession.

But the flowers are pretty, mother, we need them to spruce up our house, don't the colours make you feel better? They remind me of life, and of hope, and of beauty.

"Guess this one's on me."

Shikamaru shook his head, digging in his pocket for change. He knew he should have enough for one more, this week.

A sharp rap on his head.

"Don't be stubborn. Take this one."

She leaned across the counter, only the yellow acacia in her hand separating their faces. His sigh ruffled the long, tapering petals as he took it.

She smiled.

"I know I can always trust you."

"Why are we running?"

"Because Asuma said so."

"No, I meant, why are we running?"

"Oh come on, you honestly expect Chouji to be able to keep up with our speed?"

"You mean, your speed."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"I heard that, you know."

"Then why ask?"

"Stop being antagonistic. Isn't it more fun to run together than alone?"

"At breakneck speed? I'd rather not."

"Don't be like that! I want to run with you!"

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"No. You're supposed to run with me."

"Fine then. Only because I don't want you whining my ear off later."

They ran five laps around the village, together.

He stands in the alley across and two doors from her house, glances up worriedly at the sky; but he can't see the two drops of rain that splash onto his face. It's too dark in the alley, but that's why he chose it. He knows he can't be seen from across the street, the route which she takes. The alley is partly covered by the jutting roof from the building to his left, but it doesn't feel like it right now. The drizzle is getting heavier, and he worries it'll start raining.

He worries she will be caught in the rain. Where is she? She goes home so late now.

He worries.

He couldn't see the clouds.

"Shikamaru, is there something wrong with me?"

It was late afternoon and her shadow cast a long blackness across his face.

"Why doesn't Sasuke even look at me? At least he bothers to acknowledge Sakura's presence!"

She squatted next to his lying form, eyes peeking from behind the cream-white bangs, eyes steely, controlled, hollow.

"Why won't you say anything, Shikamaru? Do you really think there's something wrong with me? Am I ugly?"

He couldn't say anything. He was afraid of what he would say. There's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect, you're beautiful when you smile at me, you're beautiful when you say my name,you're beautiful when you make use of me and drop me like I'm nothing, I think you're beautiful. But what he said wouldn't matter. She could only hear one voice, and it wasn't his.

"Please, Shikamaru, don't do this to me. Does your silence mean you agree? If you…even if you have nothing to say, just say something anyway."

He stared at her, the tears in her eyes. They hadn't been there just now, and he wondered if he maybe had anything to do with them. He wished she didn't try to act so strong all the time, trying so hard to blink away the glister in her eyes. Maybe he should just tell her. There came a time in everyone's life when there was an unveiling of well-kept secrets, and maybe now was the time. Maybe she did care what he thought. Maybe, he could wipe away those tears. Maybe, for her, he could try to let his heart break.

"Ino…"

A sound. A familiar tread.

He glanced at her eyes, the soft red eyeliner of sadness that rimmed it; she would always want to seem fine.

"Sasuke's coming."

Ino took off without another word.

"I'm going to marry Sasuke when I grow up, and then we're going to run the flower shop together, have two boys and two girls, and live happily ever after!"

Ino prattled on cheerfully. Shikamaru stared blankly. It was hard to concentrate on his game of go with himself when she kept yammering in the background.

"Oh, don't worry, Shikamaru! I won't forget you, of course. You can be our best man, and maybe the godfather of our first child! Since your father's such great friends with my dad and all. We must continue the family tradition!"

Shikamaru's eyes wandered hazily over the game pieces. Why did his hands feel so painful? Oh, it was because he was gripping the board.

"I can't wait for the future! It's going to be so much fun! Don't you think so? Oi, Shikamaru, if you don't speak a bit more this is going to become a one-sided conversation!"

Shikamaru blinked at her.

"Yeah, it sounds…fun. As long as you're happy, I guess."

There she is, finally. She looks beaten, like she'll collapse under the weight of the raindrops spattering on her clothes. Even at this distance he can see her dishevelled appearance, grass stems worked into the dirty creases of her outfit, ponytail slightly askew and the ends fraying, something never to be seen six years ago. Is being a jounin that important? He plucks pensively at the uniform he's forced to wear all the time. The reason why he's no longer in the same team as her. On retrospect, he should have refused to take the exam. The added responsibilities, the new environment, the…absence of her.

He doesn't see that much of her anymore. There's no reason to; he feels it would seem against his nature. But his father and hers are still very much in contact. His father tells him that her father is worried. She's over-exerting herself, training too hard, trying to accomplish what she cannot. Her father doesn't know why she's stressing herself out so much.

But he knows. It's because of him. Always…always that person, the puppeteer who controls her life without even lifting a finger. Yet even so, he comes every day, to stand guard in this lonely little alley, watching to make sure she comes home safely. Why?

He doesn't know. He's given up understanding love a long time ago.

But he understands his love for her.

"Ino."

"Shikamaru."

"Do you know what it's like, Shikamaru?"

She had stopped bothering to hide the tears. No point being strong in front of someone who knows all your weaknesses. Especially about…him.

"I can't let go. How can I? He was my first love. I'd planned out my entire life with him, you know? I even named the kids. Uchiha Seiji, Uchiha Niishiro–"

She broke down, burrowing her face between her knees as her body shook silently.

"It's quite stupid, you know? I just can't give up, because I've held this feeling for so long. I just…can't!"

The tears came again as she hugged her knees in a desperate plea. He knelt down and held out the handkerchief, faintly scented of oranges.

He looked at her tear-stained face. You know what, Ino? Neither can I.

She took his hand instead.

Mid-morning, leaning across the countertop in the flower shop, he wiped the tear gently from her eye.

"The flowers are…stunning today, aren't they?"

"What are you doing here?"

"It's raining. You'll catch a cold."

He tries to cover her shoulders with his jacket. She shakes it off.

"Are you stupid? What if you catch a cold instead?"

"I won't."

"Well, neither will I."

Since she refuses his jacket, there is no point in him staying and prolonging her exposure to the rain. He knows she is not weak, not anymore, but he has nothing else to talk about. He should say goodbye now.

"Still chasing after the same goal?"

He blinks. Is that his voice?

"Depends on what the goal is."

A smirk quirks her face, humourless, short-lived.

"Sasuke?"

She starts to shake her head, then nod, then shrugs. She looks like she might start crying, or it could just be the rain tracing rivulets down her face.

"If I let go of Sasuke, will I be lost?"

"Only if you choose to."

She stares at him, and him at her.

"I think I should be getting home now," she says suddenly. "Not very smart standing out in the rain like this, is it?" Another wry grin flowers and dies on her face.

He stares at her, the girl he has loved since a long time. He thinks of their relationship, of her happier smiles and the optimism, the little moments and the missed chances.

"Do you...want to stay awhile?"

She looks at him, blinks. "Now? In the rain?"

She senses the recoil. "No, no, I don't –"

"Of course."

She smiles as his face leans in towards her and his breath grazes her lips.

There are many kinds of love in this world.

There is the love for your brothers and sisters, the love for your friends, the passionate love that consumes and wants, the compassionate love that smiles on the other party, and then there is the self-sacrificing love.

But the best love of all is reciprocated love.

Please don't try so hard to say goodbye; because he's never going to. And neither is she.

Hi, still with me? Or are you hopelessly lost?

Here's the general idea. Ino doesn't really love Sasuke as much as she thinks, but she's been chasing after him for so long she doesn't want (and is afraid) to give up and waste all her effort and dreams etc. (I think she doesn't realise this herself yet – until Shikamaru opens up)

And some notes!
- Yellow acacia represents 'secret love'. :)
- 'If you…even if you have nothing to say, just say something anyway' is a line modified from Bellefire's song Say Something Anyway
- Seiji is the name of my OTL from Mimi wo Sumaseba (watch it, people!) and Niishiro means 'new generation'

Uh, well, at least it has a happy ending! After my last angsty ShikaIno fic, I figured I had to write at least one ShikaIno which ended with them happy. Yes, if you couldn't tell, he's kissing her! :D

Alright, now you can all flame me for confuzzling you totally. -ducks tomatoes-

& SnoOza