When logic fails ...

Unexpected Encounter

Dawn was already breaking when Shikamaru stumbled through the door of his new apartment. He had not really felt like going to that student party, but his friends had refused to let up, so in the end he had resigned himself to his fate and gone along.
Naruto, his roommate and childhood friend, had disappeared at some point without a trace, but Kiba had insisted they would only leave once the party was over. "It's our first student party on campus, we have to enjoy it," he had said.

Shikamaru found the whole thing more exhausting than enjoyable, but he had actually endured it until the first rays of sunlight painted the horizon.

Slightly tipsy, Shikamaru dragged himself up the endless stairs. Of course their new place had to be on the fifth floor, and this damn building did not even have an elevator. His body swore he must have already climbed five flights by now. Yet each floor looked almost identical, so he could not be certain.

With clumsy fingers he pulled out his key and tried to fit it into the lock. The attempt turned out to be far more difficult than expected. He eyed the key suspiciously, tried again at the cylinder—without success.

He was sure he had the right key in hand, and almost as sure he was at the right door. Still, something was off. A logical thought surfaced: maybe Naruto had left his key in the lock from the inside. Some locks blocked other keys in that case. Instinctively, he pressed the little button by the door, rang the bell, and knocked against the wood.

"Naruto! Damn it, open the damn door! I'm tired!" he called irritably and rang again, trying to make himself heard. Then he paused to listen, but nothing stirred. He knocked once more. "Naruto!"

Inwardly, Shikamaru cursed himself for having gone to the party at all, since the time wasted there could have been put to much better use at home. He was so lost in thought that he did not hear the approaching footsteps.

Only when the door swung open did his eyes widen in shock. No trace of Naruto. Instead, a young blonde woman stood before him, wrapped in a black silk robe, her striking green eyes fixed on him. Shikamaru gaped at her, his mouth half open.
"You... you're not Naruto..." he muttered, stunned.

The woman seemed just as overwhelmed at first. After a moment, she furrowed her brows skeptically and crossed her arms. "Brilliant observation, Sherlock. My name's Temari, and I'd really appreciate it if you stopped making a racket at my door. I'd like to get some more sleep."

Shikamaru's fogged mind fought its way back to clarity. His gaze flicked down the hallway, then back to her, and the realization dawned that the mistake was his.
"Sorry... I must've mixed up the floors... We only moved in yesterday... fifth floor..." he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

She huffed, blowing an errant blonde strand out of her face. "Then you've got one more flight to climb. This is only the fourth... and don't make a habit of this."

The situation embarrassed Shikamaru so much that he opted for a strategic retreat. Yet his gaze lingered on his new neighbor longer than it should have. He could not explain why, but he knew he was staring too long. With a curt nod, he finally shook himself from his daze, turned, and hurried up the stairs.

In record time he reached the next floor and, with relief, found his key slid smoothly into the lock. Two steps later he tripped over one of Naruto's moving boxes and was grateful when he finally reached his bed.

It was late afternoon when he awoke from his heavy sleep. The encounter with the blonde woman in the early morning felt like a bad dream—one of those to be forgotten quickly. Something that embarrassing had never happened to him before. How could he, of all people, miscount the floors? One thing was clear: from now on, he would make a wide detour around the neighbor on the fourth floor.