Notes: This is my way of coping, though I don't entirely believe he's truly dead just yet. So basically, I'm a giant masochistic baby.
Warning: Spoilers up to chapter 647.

Shikamaru regrets.

He always wanted a quiet life. Simple, easy, no hassles. He should have expected that was just a pleasant but unlikely dream. He's a ninja; "quiet" and "simple" have never been part of the job description. He kept on dreaming, anyway. Just goes to show that he's really more of a ignorant dumbass than a strategic prodigy.

Temari seems to have known that from the start. She never could take it seriously whenever people praised him for his intellectual abilities. He liked that. He still does.

A small, cruel part of him wishes she were here now so he could see what face she would make. What she would say.

Shikamaru coughs, and the images slip from his mind.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

He can hear Ino sob next to him and Chouji's wrecked shouts for help. He wants to open his mouth and apologize. He wants to say that he didn't want to put them through this, that he'll be with Asuma and his father soon, but the words get lost on the tip of his tongue.

He thinks of Kurenai and the baby and Konoha, and for the fraction of a second, he manages to find the strength to be mad. Why is this happening now, he's just causing more unnecessary grief, his death isn't even useful—

A cold wave of sleep washes over him and takes him away from reality, from emotions, from reason.

Shikamaru regrets, and then it's finally, finally over.