Title: Falling Free
Rating: PG-13/R, for violence
Notes: Written for AWR.

1.

It had ended perfectly. The murderer was–well, not dead, but as close to it as a thing like that could get. His teammates were still alive. And he'd seen Asuma's hand on his shoulder, almost felt it, and Asuma had been smiling. As Shikamaru filled in the hole, he thought to himself, It's finished.

Except it wasn't. Two weeks later, Shikamaru saw Asuma again.

He was getting a midnight snack from the refrigerator, and when he turned around Asuma was standing at his shoulder, looking just as he had the last time.

"You're not supposed to be here anymore," Shikamaru told him. "We avenged you. You can move on now."

Asuma didn't say anything this time. He only smiled. And Shikamaru realized that there must be something else he was supposed to do.

2.

"You've started smoking again," Chouji said. The corners of his mouth were turned firmly down.

Shikamaru exhaled, blowing a thin stream of smoke into the air. He could make his own clouds, now. "It's not over yet," he replied.

3.

"You did something to him, didn't you?"

The murderer's head sneered. There was still dirt stuck to its teeth. "Have you begun to taste Jashin's wrath already?"

"Tell me what you did." He could feel Asuma behind him, urging him on.

"Jashin did this to you, heathen. What you're experiencing now is only a small measure of the pain and suffering you'll receive in His hells. I'd start repenting if I were you, though I doubt it'll help."

Shikamaru took another drag. "Do I have to kill your family? Do I have to kill you? Tell me what I need to know."

The head only cackled. "There's no hope for you, heathen. No hope at all."

Shikamaru consciously refused to become angry. He'd expected this. It was in the plan. He simply had to make the next move. "Now?" he asked, turning to Asuma.

Perhaps he received a nod in reply; perhaps not. It was enough confirmation. "All right, then," he said, and shoved the lighted end of his cigarette into the murderer's eye socket.

4.

There was blood on his hands and blood on his face and blood in his mouth, even, and somewhere Ino was screaming.

The screams became words: "What are you doing?! We weren't supposed to kill him, you idiot! How are we supposed to get the information now?"

Shikamaru blinked, tried to gather his thoughts and words. "Asuma… Asuma wanted…"

But when he turned his head, there was still someone there. Shikamaru squinted, but through the blood in his eyes it was impossible to tell whether or not Asuma had approved.

5.

"Something. Anything.

"Just one hint. Tell me just one thing.

"Is there something keeping you from telling me? You know you can say just about anything and I'll figure it out. I always can, you know that.

"Or at least stop smiling.

"This… is this a punishment? Is it because of something I did?

"Oh God. Oh, God.

"Don't worry! I'll fix it. I'll do anything. I'll go anywhere, I'll kill anyone, just—

"Peace. Please. It's all I want.

"Just peace."

6.

He hadn't seen his teammates since their last, botched mission. So he was surprised to see them when he opened his bedroom door: Ino sitting at his desk, and Chouji on his bed.

Ino had obviously been crying. That was how Shikamaru knew something was very wrong; she never cried, ever, not even when they were eight and she'd broken her leg. (Had she cried at Asuma's funeral? For the first time, he wished he'd gone.)

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Chouji stood up, put a hand on Shikamaru's shoulder. "We need to talk."