The man's name turned out to be Shikamaru. It was the first thing he told her when he woke up the next morning, feeling much better than the day before, though still sore from his wounds. Harika gave him another potion and he drank it without hesitation, despite her raised eyebrow.
"If you had wanted to kill me, you would've done it already. And if you needed something from me, you wouldn't kill me."
"Hmmm…" she murmured, surprised by his composure. He was completely confident in his deduction. "You're smart."
Her guest's upper lip stretched into a small smile that made him look even more attractive, if that were possible. There was nothing more intriguing than a man confident in his abilities.
"I get that a lot."
"Do they also tell you you're humble?"
Shikamaru laughed out loud for a second. Then he stopped abruptly, as if surprised that he had laughed. Still, his lips twitched briefly as if trying to suppress another laugh. Shikamaru's hazel eyes seemed much brighter when he laughed, and she, who couldn't help but notice every little detail about him, told him so.
"You should laugh more often."
He blinked, considering her honest words. He mulled something over for a few minutes. She wasn't sure what about her comment had struck him so deeply, but it was clear he was thinking hard. Finally, he sighed. It was the same sigh she had heard in the clearing, when he had been fighting that other ninja surrounded by the bodies of his teammates. Then, as if it pained him to admit it, he spoke in a low voice while staring out the cabin's open window.
"There's often nothing to laugh about."
"Why do you say that?" she asked, curious and surprised.
"For no reason."
Shikamaru's slightly bitter expression surprised her even more. He seemed truly worn down by something he didn't want to share. She wasn't surprised—they were still strangers—but even so, she wanted to distract him from whatever it was.
"My name is Harika."
"...Harika," Shikamaru whispered under his breath, then looked at her intently. "Thank you for saving me. And for healing me."
"You're welcome. I told you I'd take care of you."
Shikamaru examined her carefully once more. Then he tried sitting up again, and she helped him. He opened his mouth for a second, then closed it. Harika had the strange feeling he had been about to refuse her help, but in the end, he allowed her to lift him by the shoulders as she examined the reddish wound at his side. When she looked up from the wound, she found herself face-to-face with Shikamaru's hazel eyes, which were once again fixed on her with an unreadable expression. Only then did she realize he was still half-naked and cleared her throat to speak. This time, she composed herself much faster than the day before.
"I washed your clothes. There's only cold water, but I can heat some if you want to clean up a bit."
"Thanks."
She nodded. She got up from the bed to turn around when a hand caught hers mid-motion. She turned to look back at him over her shoulder, surprised, and saw his serious face.
"You saved my life, but you put yourself in danger. Why?"
"Do you think I could let someone die if I could do something about it?"
"You could've helped him. We're both, or were, ninjas."
"He was trafficking humans," she hissed at the memory. Shikamaru seemed to understand everything from that one phrase.
"And what makes you think I wouldn't do the same, if paid and ordered?"
"Would you?" she asked, turning fully to face him with her full attention.
"...No."
"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
Shikamaru blinked, surprised, and let go of her hand. Harika sometimes hated Dumbledore, but some of his wisdom was undeniable. Shikamaru and the other ninja were both shinobi, but clearly with different morals. She had seen it in his expression when he looked with sorrow at the bodies of his teammates, or when his words brimmed with determination as he spoke of the criminal facing justice in prison rather than vengeance. She didn't know Shikamaru, but actions spoke far louder than words. He could've killed that man when he had him pinned with his powers, but he didn't—because Shikamaru was just.
She left him to wash while she finished preparing the food. She knew it would take time for him to recover from his wounds, especially since she hadn't healed him completely. It would be hard to explain how a stab wound had vanished overnight, so she had to use a stitching spell to make it look like the work of a civilian. She liked him and found him attractive, but Shikamaru was still a stranger.
"What happened to my teammates? To the other ninja?"
"I left them in the clearing, covered up. I imagine they're still there."
Shikamaru nodded seriously, once again dressed in his uniform and armed, except for the stiff green vest. It probably didn't sit well against his wound. A part of her felt disappointed to see his hair tied up again, but she had to admit that the tight black turtleneck sweater was just as attractive. In fact, now that she saw him dressed like the ninja he was, she realized just how handsome he truly was—like it had slapped her in the face.
She sighed, pushing aside the strange thoughts, and sat across from Shikamaru on her own bed. She handed him a tray with food, having another one for herself, and they began to eat. She wondered what would happen now, what had led to the deadly confrontation, what had happened to the trafficked people... She burned with curiosity but knew how irritating it was to be questioned and have people pry into her business, so she bit her tongue.
She looked at him with interest, but silently. Still, that seemed to be enough for Shikamaru because he looked up from his food, as if he knew she was staring, and locked eyes with her. Then he smiled a tiny smile and gave a soft snort of laughter.
"At this rate, steam's going to come out of your ears."
"That's not true!"
"Whatever you say..." he snorted again, eating another bite of chicken and rice. "I know you're dying of curiosity."
"Anyone would be curious."
"I assure you, most civilians would've run for their lives instead of asking how I ended up stabbed in the side."
"Most civilians," she agreed with a shrug. She was a witch. "I'm not."
Shikamaru watched her silently for a few seconds and nodded as well.
"Yeah. I've figured out you're not like the others. No civilian would've cared, or bothered... or been stupid enough to spy on my fight and then drag my half-dead body hundreds of meters through the forest."
"Hey! Let's see who patches up your next stab wound."
"Who says you'll be around for the next one?" Shikamaru smiled, amused by her words.
"Who says I don't know how to use kitchen knives?" she shot back with scorn and amusement. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I know where you sleep."
Shikamaru laughed again, a short chuckle. Unlike before, this time he didn't immediately stop, surprised at himself for laughing. Instead, he kept laughing quietly. He looked at her with something in his eyes she couldn't quite decipher before turning his gaze back to his plate.
They finished their food in a comfortable silence, with nothing else to say. Harika picked up the trays and stood with the intention of taking them to the tiny wooden kitchen. Before she could take a single step away from the bed, a hand grabbed her shoulder and another her waist. She let out a small gasp as she was pulled down onto her back on the bed. She instantly realized what had happened when she saw Shikamaru's face just inches from hers, his arms on either side of her head.
"I know where you sleep too," he challenged, unblinking. "You should be more careful."
Harika didn't scream or move, stunned. They had been joking, but this... Shikamaru was warning her. No. He was tempting her, like a predator. He was underestimating her. She swallowed a smile. She raised her left hand, brushing Shikamaru's clothed torso with her fingertips, watching as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at her touch, until she cupped his face. For a few seconds, they looked into each other's eyes without saying a word. Shikamaru didn't move away from her hand, nor did he lean into it. He simply... accepted her touch. Her other hand...
She slowly lifted her head. Their faces drew closer and closer, so close that her nose brushed his just before her lips hovered beside his right ear.
"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered.
She felt Shikamaru's erratic breath—something she would've missed if her lips hadn't been so close to his ear. She would've liked to keep playing with him, but she was going to punish him for his audacity. Her other hand pinched the flesh near his side wound. The effect was immediate. Shikamaru let out a small cry of pain before rolling off of her. She saw him lie on the bed with a pained expression. After all, she hadn't been gentle.
She stared at him, still lying on her bed, with a small smile. Eventually, Shikamaru caught his breath and turned to look at her. Only then did she get up and pick up the trays that had fallen to the floor.
"Maybe I was stupid for saving your life as a... civilian," she said, smiling and trying not to laugh at the thought, "but it looks like I'm not the only idiot around here."
She washed the dishes and stepped out of the cabin. She wasn't angry or worried, but she needed to get away for a bit to pull herself together. The moment she questioned why she felt the need to distance herself, she realized it was because she was aroused. It didn't take her long to realize it: her trembling legs, dry mouth, racing heart, and goosebumps made it obvious.
She really wasn't right in the head. Who gets turned on after being grabbed like that? When it wasn't even flirting but more like a display of danger? She thought of any regular civilian—one of the many she'd met in her travels—and imagined spending the night with them. And she realized she didn't feel any excitement. Was it danger that aroused her—or was it Shikamaru himself? A voice in her mind answered instantly... both.
She sat in the grass, leaning against the wooden cabin's facade, and gazed at the darkening sky. Soon she'd see stars overhead, and night would fall. But in the meantime, she meditated as she watched the clouds. At least, she tried to until the door opened a few meters away. She didn't turn to look at Shikamaru, but she heard his slow footsteps.
Then, surprisingly, he sat beside her, just inches away. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he was also staring at the clouds with a contemplative expression and unfocused eyes. Since he didn't meet her gaze, she turned back to the sky to continue her meditation. Strangely, despite everything that had just happened, she didn't feel uneasy sitting beside him. Even knowing how fast he could move—and how easily he could hurt her, even wounded. In silence, they watched the sunset side by side for a long time.
"About earlier..." Shikamaru admitted eventually, without looking at her. "Maybe I am an idiot. I'm sorry."
"It's fine as long as you don't do it again."
"Got it."
Harika turned her head to look at him more clearly, seeing that he was suppressing a smile—when suddenly, the distinct smell of blood hit her.
"Are you bleeding?" she asked, alarmed.
"...Just a little."
"Let me see the wound."
Shikamaru sighed wearily, but he turned to sit in front of her and lifted his dark blue sweater, showing her the bleeding injury. She saw he had replaced the gauze she had given him with a new one, probably while he'd been alone in the cabin. She removed the gauze and saw that one of the stitches had torn—exactly where she'd pinched him. Realizing she had hurt him, despite defending herself, she felt a sharp pang of guilt.
"Hey. It's not your fault," Shikamaru said with a shrug. "I deserved it."
Harika met his gaze, shaking her head, but realizing that Shikamaru had expected the pain.
"If I had wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have healed you."
"…"
She felt Shikamaru's contemplative stare on her face as she fixed the mess she'd made. Luckily, it was just one stitch. She disinfected the wound and rebandaged it, wiping away the dried blood on his side. Shikamaru let her work in silence, though he didn't miss a single detail. Paranoia had to be an intrinsic trait in a ninja as she felt intensely observed.
"Take off the sweater. I'll wash it again. In the meantime, I'll leave you one of my biggest hoodies."
And that's how Shikamaru undressed in front of her—or at least tried to. The moment she saw the slight grimace of pain as he raised his arms, Harika quickly helped him pull it off. He let her, saying nothing, so she tried not to blush seeing his bare torso. Again. Although this time, he was awake.
"I need to go retrieve the bodies," Shikamaru said abruptly.
Harika sighed, knowing it was true.
"I imagine you remember where I found you," she said. He nodded with a faint smile. "Of course you do…"
"I'll be back. I'm not in any condition to return to Konoha with this wound. I'd like to stay a few more days... if that's okay."
"Of course."
She avoided telling him that she'd bought the cabin specifically to take care of him. She didn't know how he'd react—or if he'd ask why she'd done such a thing for a stranger. She wasn't in the mood to be interrogated, so she kept her mouth shut and went back inside the cabin. She rummaged through her things for a sweater and discreetly enlarged it so Shikamaru could wear it. She didn't have any men's clothes on hand, so he'd have to make do.
The moment she turned around, she jumped slightly to find him standing right behind her, still as a statue. He was staring at her, studying her with a neutral expression but intense eyes. She swallowed hard, realizing he would need help putting the hoodie on. She pulled it over his head, and he managed to get one arm through, then let her help with the arm on his injured side. She accidentally brushed her fingers against his side and felt his skin goosebump instantly.
She turned away so he wouldn't see her swallow again, picking up the trays she hadn't washed earlier during her tactical escape from the cabin.
"I'll be back later," Shikamaru said behind her.
She heard him step out of the cabin and disappear into the forest. She glanced sideways at the vest he hadn't put on and saw his ninja headband as well. Had he left them behind to blend in? While thinking about everything that had happened that day, she leaned on the sturdy wooden counter, eyes fixed on the metal faucet, breathing deeply, only to realize she probably wasn't the only one feeling that strange pull. It was obvious from the way he had looked at her a few times, even if she had doubted whether he was attracted to her or just analysing her as a stranger. But when she felt his skin bristle under her fingers just minutes ago—only for a second—she knew she'd been lying to herself.
"Perfect…" she muttered in her native tongue. "The first guy who isn't one of my fans that seems attracted to me and that I'm attracted to and he turns out to be from another bloody dimension. Ugh!"
She threw herself onto the bed, barely holding in a frustrated squeal. Why was she even thinking about this? Why was she wondering if they were attracted to each other when her main goal was to get out of here? She was definitely losing her mind. And yet... she remembered how normal and comforting it had felt to sit beside Shikamaru in silence while watching the sunset. She almost blushed at the memory, and then immediately felt guilty for enjoying it when she should be researching how to return home.
What the hell was she thinking? There could be nothing with Shikamaru because she had to go back. She couldn't let her loved ones think she had disappeared or died for the rest of their lives. She didn't want to leave her family in another dimension forever. She didn't want to spend the rest of her days in this world not knowing what would become of them.
Besides, she had just met Shikamaru. Not to mention he represented everything she'd been trying to avoid: he was a ninja, a citizen of a major nation, and, based on what she'd seen, smart enough to suspect she wasn't entirely a civilian. She was screwed. Just thinking about spending a few more days together while he recovered...
Her wards alerted her before she could hear him.
"Are you done already?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed, with nothing else to do.
Shikamaru nodded with a sigh. She wondered how he had... handled the situation, considering he didn't seem to have brought the bodies or their belongings. Her curiosity must have been obvious because Shikamaru lazily lay down on his bed, carefully, and looked up at the ceiling.
"I sealed them inside some ninja scrolls."
"...You mean you can put all kinds of things, including corpses, inside scrolls?" she asked in astonishment.
They were muggles but somehow had used chakra to create something she would consider magical. Wow. If Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy—or any of those snobs who thought themselves superior for being pure-blooded wizards—had known, they'd probably foam at the mouth from sheer rage. Just imagining it made her burst into laughter, and once she started, she couldn't stop. She laughed until she cried, picturing it.
"What's so funny?" asked Shikamaru, a small smile on his lips, propping his head up on one arm to watch her laugh like a lunatic.
"N-nothing, nothing… I just remembered something."
Shikamaru chuckled, and she calmed down. She wiped away her tears, realizing it had been a long time since she had laughed that hard. She looked at Shikamaru again, who was watching her with a peculiar light in his eyes and a small closed-mouth smile, and cleared her throat.
"I'm really sorry about your teammates."
"Thanks. Being a ninja is dangerous, but still… it always hurts when a comrade dies."
"Why did you choose to become a ninja?"
"..." Shikamaru looked up at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze, and seemed to think carefully. "My clan is a ninja clan. I never really considered doing anything else."
"Expectations suck."
They looked at each other for a second, understanding one another, and then Shikamaru sighed.
"They do."
"It took me a long time to be able to do what I want," she confessed, lying back on her own bed. "For a while, I barely knew what to do with my new freedom."
"And now?"
"Now maybe I don't know exactly what I want to do with my life, but at least, whatever I choose, it'll be my choice," Harika smiled, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
They stayed silent for a long while. The sun had completely set, but moonlight streamed in through the open windows. She was too lazy to get up and light the lamps, so she didn't. It wasn't like they had anything to do. Shikamaru must have thought the same, because he stayed on his bed, meditating with his eyes closed. She knew he wasn't asleep by his breathing. That, and the barrier she had placed around his bed. She wasn't completely stupid.
"And what would you do if you couldn't choose what to do with your life? What if it felt like everything in your life was already written in stone, and all you could do was follow what someone else had written for you?"
Shikamaru's question caught her off guard. She could only make out his silhouette in the dim light. She didn't know if his face was serious or blank, but his voice sounded… tired. Defeated. It reminded her of herself years ago—though she had felt angrier and more frustrated than tired. Shikamaru, unlike her, seemed to have given up in a way. She didn't know how or why she sensed that, but she remembered that morning when he had laughed at something silly she said, then seemed surprised he had laughed at all.
Was Shikamaru tired of living the way he did? If his clan was full of ninjas, she could understand why he felt the need to become one, even if he hadn't explicitly said he hated it. It would be like her, a witch from a magical family, burning her Hogwarts letter to go study at Smelting's. Unthinkable. Even so, she didn't think her situation was the same as Shikamaru's: for her, Hogwarts had been an escape from the Dursleys. If Shikamaru's family loved him, he probably wanted to be like them—and that meant being a ninja.
On the other hand, was Shikamaru talking about being a ninja… or something else entirely that she hadn't guessed yet?
"Are you talking about your clan's expectations for you to be a ninja? Or is there something else that's keeping you from being happy?"
"...Good choice of words," said Shikamaru, not answering her question, in a carefully neutral voice. "I think I'll try to sleep."
"Good night, Shikamaru."
"Good night, Harika."
Incredibly, Shikamaru fell asleep. Harika watched him for a few seconds before looking out the window. Something about her words had hurt him—or so she thought. She hadn't meant it that way, but it was clear that Shikamaru had a few issues only he could solve. Even if it meant asking for help. What comforted her was that, somehow, he was aware of his problems. Otherwise, why ask something like that to a stranger?
Before falling asleep herself, she promised to try to help him in the short time they had together. It's not like they could do much aside from talking, reading, or playing cards while he recovered before heading back to Konoha. Maybe Shikamaru's presence would help her learn something about this world—something only a ninja would know—that could help her return home. Because one way or another, she was going to get back to her dimension, and Shikamaru to his home. No matter how weirdly sad that thought made her feel.