~One Month Later~

Jezebel smiled brightly at a curly haired blond nurse as she passed and waved a greeting.

"Jezebel!" The nurse waved back, pausing only briefly to chat. "Off to lunch now?"

"I am! I've got a Ginger Soy Soba to enjoy today."

"That sounds delicious! I'll join you soon! I just need to run these sheets up!"

"Okay, Nami! See you soon."

Jezebel kept her smile as she walked, looking down at her soba noodles. They weren't anything special, she stopped putting so much effort into recipes recently, since…Well, Shikamaru still hadn't made it back, and there was really no point making such large recipes with only mouth to feed.

They were supposed to return two weeks ago, but she knew by now to not hold her breath. A recent message from their group had confirmed they were okay and making progress. Besides, she kept busy. The loneliness that had gnawed at her stomach previously was kept at bay with a new flurry of work and coworkers. She felt almost as if she could start a new life away from the damage of her previous one.

"Jezebel!" Nami poked her head in through the lunch room entrance while Jezebel stood at the microwave with chop sticks hanging from her mouth, pulling them promptly.

Nami giggled, walking over to the small lunch room fridge and pulled her own lunch out, onigiri with the tails of tempura fried shrimp sticking out the top.

"Can you believe the number of children coming in with the flu la-" Nami started to ask but the sound of people shouting from down the hall caught their attention, pulling them to look out the room.

A gurney was rushing down the hallway with a group of frantic medical-nin surrounding it. In the hysteria, a man was nearly knocked to the ground. As the gurney approached, the familiar arm of a man hanging from the edge of the bed, limp and slick with blood was visible, leaving a trail of bright red droplets. Jezebel's breath caught, her eyes wide, tears gathering.

"Shikamaru?"

As they got closer, Jezebel could see the man's eyes were rolled back into his head, pointing towards the Konoha headband across his forehead. Just above it, a kunai firmly planted in his skull.

Not Shikamaru.

Weak kneed, she returned to her place in front of the microwave quietly leaning onto the counter for support, too stunned to think. Nami let out a hefty sigh, returning to her seat and kicking her feet back up onto the table, digging into her food and oblivious to the blood drained Jezebel behind her back.

"You know, our Leaf Ninja do a very great thing protecting our village and all, but I can't imagine what it's like for the families. I couldn't deal with never knowing if they'll return in one piece or not." She spoke through a mouthful of food, peeling the wrapping on her onigiri back further.

Jezebel's food starting to pop and sizzle in the microwave. She placed her fingers on the edge of the counter lightly, too weak to fully grasp the counter, watching her food burn. Nausea building in her throat. She thought back to the most recent cut on Shikamaru's body, how she'd scolded him, how he'd acted like it was nothing. He'd laughed and kissed her. It was nothing to him. She inhaled deeply, feeling a familiar ache return.

Her life could look very different right now, if things had ended different on his mission taking her home. Had they not been so close to the village when he was injured… Shikamaru wouldn't mean anything more to her right now than that one awkward encounter that ended very, very sadly.

"Who is Shikamaru?" Nami glanced back at her when she didn't respond.

Jezebel turned to face Nami, startled for a moment before she realized she had never told Nami she were in a relationship. …Or anyone at the hospital for that matter. Shame burned her cheeks.

"Jezebel! Your noodles!"

Jezebel nearly jumped out of her skin, scrambling to save her food from the microwave with no time to reply. She cursed, burning her hand on the hot bowl and dropping it to the counter, looking dejectedly at her food. Most the noodles had hardened or turned rubbery, but her appetite was already gone.

"You've gotta be careful! That microwave is way hotter than your regular microwave, I swear. I over cooked my frozen pizza just the other day. I even cooked it for half the time I do at home."

She stirred her rubbery noodles around in their burnt sauce, Nami watching the tv while she rattled on about how microwaves were bad for you anyway. Jezebel's lips tugged down at one corner and straight at the other. Thankful for Nami's short attention span.

All it took was one more wrong mission. The idea felt more painful than it ever had being locked away with Shiro. She had no freedom with Shiro and no hope of it, but with Shikamaru…She felt like freedom was dangled on a string in front of her like a carrot and always out of reach.

She knew it wasn't right, it was shameful. Shikamaru had done so much for her, given her so much freedom. How could she compare this feeling to being prisoner?

Jezebel watched Nami rattle off as she tossed her trash away, heading for the door, shrugging and laughing about something she couldn't hear over the roaring in her own ears.

Once Nami left, Jezebel collapsed into a chair at their table, heart beating painfully hard and tears started to well up freely now to blur her vision. She inhaled a shuddering breath, then another. The small room suddenly feeling too big, too empty. And her? Very, very small. She missed her mom and her curtain of thick brown hair she used to tangle her tiny fingers in before she died and the warmth of Shikamaru's skin before he left. She liked to believe that maybe her mother might know how to comfort her in situations like this. But she wasn't here, and, even though she now had Shikamaru, it was still just her, alone. Wasn't it?