Bereaved

Summary: Kurenai never used to do a lot of things. Drabblish, Chapter 330 spoilers.

AN: I'm not really sure what this is, but I know I just had to write something after chapter 328 and 330. I just HAD to!

Kurenai never used to go out of her way to avoid the Yamanaka's shop when she was on her way to work. But then again, before, she never used to look at cheerful, little flowers and feel something break inside of her because she realized just how fragile those things were. A few days ago, Kurenai would never stare at her own reflection, distorted in the florist sales window, and clearly see how alone it was. And in normal circumstances, Kurenai would never avoid meeting the Yamanaka girl's eyes full of a healthy grief behind a cash register.

But now, Kurenai finds a lot of things about herself different.

And she finds herself going out of her way to avoid the Yamanaka's shop.

Her sandaled feet, numb but moving, slap against the pavement, her eyes narrowed at the sidewalk to avoid looking at the tulips, the roses, or the cosmos. The last time she had seen the flowers would be enough to rest her for forever.

She smells him before she sees him, and heart-wrenching nostalgia flickers through her, before she tilts her head up and mutters a greeting, "Shikamaru-san."

"Kurenai-sensei." The chunin is just standing there, a cigarette perched on his lower lip and Kurenai isn't sure if she wants to rip it from his mouth because it is painful, or allow him to keep it because it is familiar. A terrible silence ensues, and she can tell from the slight shifting of weight between his feet that he's attempting to find something to say. His brown eyes go from her own, to the shop peeking just slightly around the city corner, "I was just going to see Ino, do you want to-"

"No." She doesn't mean for it to come out as harshly as it did, but the pain is still there. Still fresh. The severely uncomfortable quiet returns, and she eventually sighs before calmly observing, "You never used to smoke." It's not accusing, or even remotely emotional.

"I know," He says, exhaling a cloud and Kurenai finds herself inhaling deeply, smelling him. For a second, she regrets her old complaints about his then filthy habit.

"You'll die doing that."

"You never used to avoid the flower shop." He also points out, his voice just as detached as hers had been.

Their eyes meet again, and Kurenai doesn't find his old praises of his once student's genius far off the mark. "I know."

A few more moments pass before Shikamaru begins to walk forward, hands in his pockets. His stance slouched slightly and his gait stretched, and from this angle she can see the barest marks of stubble at his chin. The tinniest of bittersweet smiles crosses her face before she too begins to walk towards her own destination.

They understand each other.