It Clicks

"The best way to waste your life … is by taking notes. The easiest way to avoid living is to just watch. Look for the details. Report. Don't participate."

Chuck Palahniuk

It's easy to see what he's doing. Easy to figure out that what he's doing is really avoiding doing anything of importance at all. He watches and learns. I suppose that's what makes him such a good shinobi. The simple and pure act of being able to spend his life looking at other people, interpreting their choices and chances and learning how they do what they do, or even why the bother to do it. That takes skill. To be able to watch. To spot every fold and touch every crease, to be able to see the world in complete detail, and never really participate in it at all.

It's got to get boring after awhile. At the very least, it would bore me. Just watching and learning but never ever doing. It's safe, that's for sure.

That's probably the flaw of human beings. Our instinct for self-preservation. Our desire for safety.

The problem being that nothing worth having is quite so…safe. Everything that could let you breathe, give you life, inspire you, and alter you is damnably unsafe and certainly insane.

Living is for the crazy. Who else would bother in a world that can kill you with just a word? Demolish a civilization with a stone? And crack a heart with one deed.

The more I think about it the more sure I am that his instinct for survival is more attuned than most people's. Mostly because he's actually aware of how the instinct works and why it works as such. It's the genius thing. It throws him off track and spindles him down to a world where everything is so…apathetic.

Deep down, I think all the lethargy he sports is really just for show. I have trouble believing he really doesn't care about anything. Really there are many things I'm sure he doesn't care about. Like what to eat for breakfast, whether or not people like him, what the latest trends are. Maybe he doesn't even care about advancing or becoming a better person.

Regardless of what is and isn't, I still thinks he's very much throwing his life away. And he knows he's throwing it away. He wants to be safe.

That's really a shame.

For two reasons.

Firstly, it's his life he's tossing aside. His life he's avoiding. His book he isn't writing.

And secondly, it's his life that I want tied to mine. If he doesn't want to try, there goes half of my life.

Stupid right? I just…I like him. Fuck, I MORE than like him, I love him. And when you really, really hit the thick of things that just plain sucks.

Sometimes, I've gotten the urge to just – just want to stand up to him, smack him around firmly, tell him exactly how I feel, smack him around a little more, and that kick him in the shins. Hey, it's a bit violent, but no idiot ever got the message with just words. Him in particular. He needs to be smacked around A LOT. And hard too.

But, despite how much I want to, I can't.

For all my attitude, and cockiness, and confidence, in the matters of love I have no more zeal that Hinata does. Probably less zeal than her. At least, from her actions you can TELL how she feels, from how I act the most hints he's probably gotten is that I want to mutilate him.

I do.

The tiniest bit.

I just happen to want to kiss him more.

Laziness is NOT supposed to be a virtue. Or – or sexy damn you. But on him it just – it seems like it. And that just annoys and excites me. Ugh.

You know what would be nice?

If he just – poof – up and told me he loved me.

Oh, but how could that happen?! I don't even think he realizes I'm a girl. Hmph. Lots of others notice. You'd figure it was pretty obvious, but not to him. Not really.

So, because I'm a coward and I suck and the world hates me, I just gotta settle for dreaming.

How.

Lame.

Is.

That?

It's easy to see what he's doing. I just wish it was just as easy to let him see that things could be better. That I could be his better.

I jump upon feeling a hand on my shoulder.

"Jumpy, Tem."

I blush furiously at his usage of my nickname. My brothers call me Mari. My friends call me Temari. My acquaintances call me Temari-san. And my enemies call me 'that bitch'. Only Shikamaru calls me Tem. I hate that I think it sounds sexy when he says it. I hate that I love the way it sounds when he says it. I'd always hated being called Tem, but he made me love it. "Shut up."

"Blushing too. Aren't you odd? Having an off day?" He teased gently.

"Oh, bugger off, Nara."

His face turned serious. "I will soon. I just have something to say. And a question to ask."

I mumbled something incoherent to him.

He doesn't notice or doesn't care. "What do you think about love?"

I almost trip over my feet. "What do I what?"

"Love. What's your view?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You're the only person's who's opinion I actually hold in high regard and find value in."

I blush. Oh, jeez, he's right. I'm having a very off day. It's all these thoughts about dreaming and kisses and love and sexiness.

"Well?"

"I like it. I mean, I suppose it only works if the love is…reciprocated. Not like, works works, but happy works, you know? Oh, gee, I'm not making sense. Okay, I think it's very…surreal, because I figure it's gotta be hard to find someone to love you that you also happen to love; but when that junk happens it's got to be…brilliant. Fantastic, you know. And I realize that this idea probably sound so…cliché and fake. Sounding like some gooey sap from a romance novel, but I think it's more that just that sticky crap. I think love is physical and intellectual and spiritual attraction. It's more than just a pretty face; it's being connected to a person on a level that just…feels right." He's looking down at me a bit oddly, his eyebrows drawn together and a frown on his lips. "Great, I sound like Ino don't I?"

"Not in the least."

"Ugh. I know I do. I sound like a sap. I almost hate myself. Almost, because, really, despite how stupid I think I sound I really do believe what I said."

"So you do, believe that? Very much?"

"Incredibly so."

"Are you in love?"

I falter. Yes. Yes. YES! If I were braver I would pour my heart out. Since I'm not… "W-Why do you want to know?"

His lips twist into an undecipherable expression. "So you are."

"I never said that!"

"You stuttered."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

He doesn't reply, just looks up at the sky. "Is he worth it?"

"W-What?"

"The guy you're in love with. Is he worth being loved?"

I growl a bit. "How the hell would I bother knowing that? Even if I did love someone – which I don't. Love isn't like…a textbook. You don't have a manual, and you don't just KNOW. You have to…just trust. You have to have faith that your heart knows. The problem is that the heart rarely ever knows, it just loves. And that sucks, but the feeling of return has got to be great enough that it's just worth all the bullshit. Who knows if the person you love is worth your heart? All that matters is that your heart wants that person's heart. That your souls just…click."

"So, you say you should have faith?"

"Yes."

"And it's worth the trouble?"

"If it wasn't why would so many people bother?"

"They're all masochists?"

"Ever notice the people who've never let their love take fruit are the creepiest and weirdest ones?"

He grinns. "You're cute."

"I resent that!" I exclaim. "I am not cute!" Hell, he could call me anything BUT cute! Cute! Cute! She was not cute, not in the least. Hot, sexy, fine, ugly, atrocious, or even repulsive, but CUTE, cute! Hell no.

"You are adorable."

"I'm going to punch you." I threaten.

"Like a girl like you could."

My temper flares and I attempt to punch him, but his fingers clamp around my wrist stopping the blow. He pulls me by wrist so I smack into his chest. The heavy smell of lemon and rainwater invade my senses and block all coherent thought and logic. His smell – Kami – his smell is the sexiest bit about him.

"Not very nice, Tem." He chastises, a mocking tone and grin evident. "I may have to change my perception of you. Guess you aren't cute. You're…" His fingers play at the bare expanse of my neck. "Troublesome. Irksome. Violent. Bitchy."

I should be punching him. Or insulting him. Or just yelling at him the teeniest bit. But the shivers spreading from his touch at my neck makes that verrry hard to do. "Damn straight I'm not cute." I wrangle out.

His head lowers and my heartbeat increases.

"No…" I feel his lips brush against my neck.

Very suddenly I'm afraid I'm going to stop breathing.

I'm afraid my heart will stop beating.

I'm afraid my body will go into a catatonic state.

"You're beautiful."

I swallow. "Shi-Shi-Shikam-maru…Wh-What are you d-doing?"

He lifts his head the tiniest bit and then lowers it again so his lips touch mine.

If I were a weaker person, I think I would've fainted.

He pulls away but I can still feel his lips on my own. I can still taste him.

Oh, this wasn't going to help ease my stupid dreams or fantasies. Damn him.

"I'm quite bothered by you." He says to me. "You make me want things. Things I decided long ago I didn't want. I think…On some level your soul 'clicks' with mine." He grins at the last bit.

"I think your instinct for survival is broken." I mutter breathily.

"You should know. You broke it."

"You broke my heart." I mumble before I realize what I'm saying.

He leans down his lips hover above mine. "Then I daresay I must fix it."

I melt.

Just the tiniest bit.

A/N: I've had this one up on my WordPress blog for awhile, so I figured I'd post it here. I dunno, I think it's sort of cute. I just really love the quote at the beginning.