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PERCEPTION
Definitions Series

Side 01
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AUTHORS: e. N. Black
DISCLAIMER: Naruto is a product of Kishimoto Masashi
PAIRINGS: Akimichi Chouji + Nara Shikamaru
WARNINGS: M/M

Note 1: This work and its sequels stands alone — meaning even though the events take place at some point during the 'Fall' timeline, you don't need to read 'The Fall of Icarus' to understand or enjoy.

Note 2: For those who have read 'Fall' this takes place the day before Naruto left for training as referenced in Chapter 05.

The world ended on a Thursday afternoon.

It was overcast, but the sun refused to remain hidden and peeked from its exile in blatant defiance. Nara Shikamaru strolled beside his best friend, Akimichi Chouji, a silent supporter of the sun rays that escaped pursuit of the clouds before they were again caught and locked away. If the sun did manage the prison break he hoped for, then Shikamaru would invite Chouji out to the field for cloud gazing and general laziness because Konoha was quiet and there was no telling how long the peace would last.

Chouji was quiet voice-wise. The only sound emerging from him was the crackling of the potato chip bag and the grind of his teeth as he ate. Eating wasn't a bad idea, Shikamaru acknowledged. A picnic basket out in the field, with lounging and atmosphere observation would ensure that he didn't stray back home for a while — which was definitely conducive to preserving his state of mind. Chouji would be game. Chouji was always game for whatever Shikamaru wanted to do, especially if food were involved.

"Hey," Shikamaru's lazy gait paused, his dark eyes still on the sky. "You hungry?"

"I could eat," Chouji answered immediately, the chip halfway to his mouth.

True. Chouji could always eat. As well he should. Something the third member of their team hadn't been able to grasp. Akimichi Clan ninjutsu was a power oriented, calorie consuming practice combined with flexibility of the body and individual limbs at chakra driven will. If Chouji didn't have the extra calories on his person when the need arose, he would die in the performance of his duties. Plain and simple. Besides, Shikamaru didn't mind the extra.

The road they were on lead by Ichiraku, but Shikamaru knew Chouji preferred barbecue so he put one foot before the next, wishing he had the power to transport himself places by thought alone. If he'd had that power when they passed the ramen shop, his stomach wouldn't have gurgled appreciatively at the appetizing aromas drifting on the muggy air. If he'd had that power, then the world would have continued on unscathed, resolute to turn long after his demise.

But it was not to be.

Two events splintered perception.

The first was that his stomach's distress call triggered on Chouji's radar. And Akimichi Chouji, Nara Shikamaru's best friend, glanced at him from the corner of his eye before he expelled a mighty sigh. He had the look of a man about to do something that would change the dynamics between gravity and flight. But he set his full lips into a firmly compressed line and the bag of potato chips within large sarashi wrapped hands was offered.

Chouji did not look at him. Did not, indeed, break stride. Did not ask why Shikamaru didn't stop to eat at this restaurant — as it was closer — because they both knew Chouji wanted barbecue and Shikamaru would very likely be paying.

The second event sat at Ichiraku's itself in a loud orange jumpsuit, blond head bent over a bowl of ramen. Beside him, handing over a few bills to the vendor sat Hyuuga Neji.

The world fell asunder.

Shikamaru watched.

Because never in all his thinkings — and Shikamaru thought a lot — did he ever consider the remote possibility that Neji, who had the ability to see 360 degrees far into any direction, would choose to never turn his sight from Uzumaki Naruto.

But there were other thinkings he'd put away. Thinkings that he needed to sort through his brain, find, and settle one way or the other because the world as he knew it had ended and the time for water of the last moment was at hand.

Everyone had their own taste when it came to what they found attractive. Nara Shikamaru liked them big-boned, well padded, wide-hipped, curvaceous, rosy-cheeked, and easy going. In a ninja village the first two wasn't likely, as the training tended to keep one in shape as it were meant to. And while there were ordinary villagers, it was rare that a ninja would become involved, or that said villagers weren't trim from their own work. Plumpness was for the rich.

As such, the Akimichi Clan did it for him; truly set his libido in to overdrive. Often enough his musings turned to fantasies on just what Shikamaru would do with a beautiful, bountiful member of that clan if it were ever proposed. But it had never been. And risking rejection seemed troublesome enough in mere thought; the deed could wait.

But Chouji was offering.

The bag contained three potato chips — the last. Chouji claimed the last was always sweetest.

The clouds grew lax in their guardianship of the sun and it broke free.

Nara Shikamaru accepted what Akimichi Chouji gave.

The sky cracked like a whip in the air to order the sun into submission again, but it continued to watch as Shikamaru placed a salty chip on his tongue while a raindrop splattered on his nose.