Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a filing accident that changes the course of history.

There aren’t many things that are too secret for even Shikaku Nara, the Jonin Commander. It does happen occasionally - something for only the Hokage and Elders’ eyes will cross his desk unopened and unread. But a new clerk mistakes the typical security code for that top-secret one, handing him a report he should never have seen.

Shikaku opens it towards the end of his work day, when the sun is beginning to set. He’s mostly thinking about the talking-to he’ll get from his wife. He promised Yoshino he’d be home on time, but it’s looking like he’ll need to break that promise again. Tension between the Uchiha and the village leadership is reaching a fever pitch, and he’s been spending many hours trying to mediate and solve problems before they start. 

He’s smart enough to tell that he’s only delaying the inevitable. But even he can’t think of any solution to this tangled mess of distrust and hate. 

He doesn’t realize the significance of the report at first. An addendum to the official account of the death, by suicide, of one Shisui Uchiha. The body had just been discovered the previous day. Shikaku had been involved in the initial investigation and the ruling that Shisui took his own life.

The addendum is brief and urgent. It doesn’t dispute the official ruling. It does state that ‘the initial plan’ cannot go forward and asks the Hokage for new orders in preventing… a coup by the Uchiha clan? 

Shikaku doesn’t allow himself a gasp - he’s too well trained for that - but it’s shocking news. Everyone knows that tensions are high, but the Uchiha are farther along than even he suspected. Not just grumbling, but actively plotting to solve their grievances with violence. There’s no way this ends well. 

The report’s author doesn’t give a name, just their ANBU callsign, but Shikaku does have enough clearance to know who Weasel is. 

He carefully puts the report back into its folder and asks his secretary to send a summons to Itachi Uchiha. 

Even without his mask, Itachi has a hell of a poker face. He retains the same bored expression as Shikaku activates all of the privacy seals in his office, closes the window and draws the curtain. He sits straight-backed, hands folded in his lap, expression polite and distant, like he was called in for tea.

“This came into my possession somehow,” Shikaku says lazily, passing the report across his desk.

Itachi opens the folder. He seems to recognize what’s inside at once, not bothering to read it through. “Ah,” is all he says. 

He doesn’t look put out at all by this blatant security breach. Nor does Shikaku feel any killing intent. Is Itachi so confident that he can handle this without even resorting to violence? Well, he is a genius, and a master of genjutsu to boot. 

Shikaku clears his throat and pointedly does not look at Itachi’s eyes. 

“So. You’re a double agent.” 

“Yes.” He’s matter of fact, slightly bored. 

“Who knows?”

“Very few people. The Hokage. The Elders. Danzo Shimura.” 

Shikaku has a pretty good poker face himself, but doesn’t conceal his distaste at that last name. He’s never liked Danzo. Never been comfortable with the man’s lack of morals and arrogant self-assurance. In Shikaku’s opinion, the Hokage has been entirely too lax with his old friend. A viper is what it is - it will never be their friend or watch their backs, even if it claims to only use its poison in their defense. 

“What was ‘the plan?’” he asks.

Itachi’s cold assurance wavers. Just for a moment, Shikaku glimpses the scared teenager underneath the mask. By the time the Uchiha speaks, though, he’s mastered himself again.  

“Shishui mastered a proprietary technique that would have allowed him to slowly influence my father’s mind. Erode his certainty that violence was our only answer. Call it… a particular genjutsu unique to our clan.”

“Someone didn’t want that. And only a handful even knew he’d attempt it.” Shikaku doesn’t need any more data to see the strings now. “Danzo.” 

“Perhaps.” 

“You called it unique to your clan. Can you-” 

“No. He was the only one who could.” Itachi’s mouth snaps shut. No point asking additional questions. Clans are tight-lipped about the nature of their unique techniques under the best of circumstances; let alone this situation. 

Shikaku simply accepts as fact that only Shishui mastered the technique. Moves on to the next data point. They don’t have a lot of time. 

“There was a contingency plan, surely.”

Itachi’s lips twist down, but his expression is resolute. “The contingency - and the option that Danzo prefers - is for the Uchiha clan to be quietly assassinated. By someone with ANBU training and skills who can counter and overcome the powers of the Sharingan.” 

There was exactly one person who fit that description, and Shikaku is looking at him. 

“No,” he says, without a moment’s pause. “That’s not a solution to this problem.”

Itachi gives him a sardonic look. “You’re still in your right mind, so I am clearly open to other options.”  

Hell, the kid was fully prepared to carry those orders out. And he’s talking about destroying Shikaku’s mind like it’s nothing. Danzo always did have an eye for talent. Itachi is strong - probably the strongest ninja in their entire village - but what would he become if he went through with this insane plan? 

“This all needs to come out,” the Nara says.

Itachi frowns. “It would destroy the village. The trust between the Uchiha and the Hokage is tenuous enough; if either side knows that the other was willing to kill… we’ll simply have an open civil war.”

He adjusts his sitting position ever so slightly. It’s barely noticeable, but to Shikaku’s trained eye, it’s obvious that the kid is preparing to strike. Damnit, he needs to be more convincing, or he’ll wake up a month from now and not remember his own name. 

“Not if there’s a scapegoat. That’s why you were going to act alone, isn’t it?” Shikaku says quickly. His mind is racing through all the possibilities, but he doesn’t see any other way. Damn that Danzo. Damn the clerk who sent in the report, for that matter. 

Ignorance truly was bliss. But now that he knows, he can’t sit by and let a teenager take that burden onto his shoulders. 

“I will confess to the plot,” Shikaku says. Itachi’s eyes widen slightly, but the Nara forges on. “I’m high enough in the village leadership to plausibly have control of ‘Root.’ Cunning enough to conceivably play the Uchiha against the Hokage. And wise - or cowardly - enough to run when you confronted me.” 

Itachi just nods, taking it all in stride with admirable practicality. 

“Danzo won’t just roll over and die, and he’ll still have his loyalists. But he’ll be forced to pretend the crimes were mine. He won’t have any other choice.” 

“And with an Uchiha taking credit for uncovering the plot, our clan’s position will be restored. Danzo’s work to isolate and expose us will be undone.” 

“Smart kid.” 

“You should leave a written confession. My word alone may not be enough.” 

“Right.” Shikaku already has a scroll out. He keeps talking even as he scribbles the lies. “The Third won’t survive this politically. Make sure that whoever follows him doesn’t touch my wife and son. Can you promise me that?” 

Itachi nods. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a fire in his eyes. It’s enough for Shikaku to trust him to keep his word. Not that he has any other choice. 

Shikaku seals the scroll, a little too quickly and at a slightly off angle. He carefully pushes items around his desk to give the impression that he left in a hurry.

Itachi watches him with narrowed eyes. “You know they’ll blame your whole clan for your actions. Discriminate against them, the way they treated the Uchiha.” 

“Better than hundreds of people dying at your hand.” Shikaku only lets himself think rationally. The greatest good for the village, minimizing the harm. If he let himself be ruled by his heart, he wouldn’t have the strength to go through with it. 

“You uncovered it all single handedly and confronted me,” he adds. “Very nearly killed me before I managed to escape.”

Itachi nods, and then - disappears. A dozen crows fly out from what had been his body, cawing loud enough to wake the dead. As the clone dissipates, Shikaku feels the cold metal of a kunai at his neck.

Shit. A clone, this entire time. As smart as he is, Itachi pulled one over on him. If he hadn’t managed to convince Itachi of his good intentions - well, that didn’t bear thinking about.  

“We had better make this look good,” Itachi whispers.

The kunai flashes down, but only cuts through empty air. Shikaku throws himself aside and forms a hand seal. 

When he presents it into evidence, Itachi’s sword is stained with blood. Chakra analysis confirms that it belongs to Shikaku Nara. 

Shikaku’s secretary claims that, upon running into the Jonin Commander’s office at the sounds of a fight, a shadow hand rose from the ground to choke him unconscious. He swears that he would have died without Itachi’s timely intervention. 

The scroll is examined by handwriting experts that confirm Shikaku wrote it. There is no sign that he was under the influence of a genjutsu. 

Danzo Shimura testifies that he’d long suspected Shikaku Nara managed to compromise Root. He keeps a straight face as he argues for his own handcrafted organization to be disbanded for the safety of the village. 

Many of the ex-Root agents simply rejoin the ANBU ranks, though the children are sent into the Academy, mostly to receive belated social conditioning. ‘Shikaku’s’ privacy seals on their tongues are erased, but none of them speak up to contradict the official version of events. 

The Third Hokage testifies as to his total ignorance of the affair. The village believes his good intentions; but he looks weak, and the ninja world can’t abide a weak leader. He announces his own resignation a few weeks after the trial, and the search for his successor begins. 

Itachi gives a calm and emotionless account of how he discovered and confronted the traitor. Not even a master of the Sharingan can tell that he’s lying through his teeth. After the trial ends, he summons a crow and sends it off, a short message tied to its leg: It worked. Your move. 

Yoshino Nara does not testify, even though she was the last one to see her husband before he left the village.  

A series of open wounds criss-cross Shikaku’s face - shallow cuts from a standard-issue ANBU sword. Itachi had held back, of course - but they needed evidence of a desperate struggle, and the new scars on his face were the easiest way to back their story up. Add them to his existing momentos from the last ninja war, and he’ll certainly be a sight to behold. 

He stumbles through the village, keeping to the shadows and dark corners. If any ANBU notices him, he’ll be forced to kill them - and he’d prefer to avoid that. The character he and Itachi created, the S-class traitor to the village who secretly caused the tension between its major clans, wouldn’t hesitate. 

That character should head straight for the exit and keep running until he’s out of range of the patrols. Presumably, that’s what Itachi would have done at the end of his massacre. But Shikaku is weaker - in more ways than one. 

He needs to see them one last time. 

Shikamaru is asleep, of course. His son makes damn sure to catch eight hours each night and an additional four during the day. Aren’t kids supposed to be energetic?

“You’re gonna have to grow up fast,” he says softly, putting one freshly-scarred and bloody hand on his son’s forehead. Shikamaru stirs, but does not wake. “Itachi’s right. They’ll take it out on all the Nara - but you, in particular. The traitor’s son and heir. I know you’ll prove ‘em all wrong. I just wish I’d be here to see it.” 

Over in their bedroom, Yoshino feigns sleep, but Shikaku’s too smart to fall for that one. He missed dinner and didn’t even bother to send a message explaining why. She was just waiting for him to slump into bed - into her trap.

He wishes, more than anything, to be scolded by his wife one final time. But it’s just not possible. He’s already wasted too much time coming here in the first place. When Itachi reports in, it’ll be the first place they look.

“Someday,” he says, so softly that he’s not sure she can even hear him, “this will all make sense. I’m so sorry.” 

His wife stirs, starts to speak, but he’s already working the hand signs for a genjutsu. Nothing special - it was never his area of expertise. But it’ll knock her out, and keep her that way until the ANBU teams come to shake her awake.

His last action on her behalf: giving her an unshakeable alibi. 

As he flees the village, Shikaku wonders how long it’ll take her to figure it out. Everyone praises his intelligence, but Yoshino is equally sharp. He’d never have married someone who couldn’t keep up with him. (She runs circles around him, in some ways).  

And Shikamaru… he’s the smartest of the three of them. Will he see through all the holes in the narrative, one day? Will he ever understand why Shikaku did it? Or will he simply resent the deed, buy the village’s line, and devote himself to hunting down his traitor father, redeeming the honor of the Nara clan? 

For a man who’s always lived by analyzing all available data and reaching the best conclusion, the future is grim and uncertain. But what other choice did he have? 

Chapter Text

As soon as he left the Land of Fire, Shikaku began to travel openly, making no effort to disguise himself. It was a risk, but also a valuable opportunity to gather intel on behalf of the village he was still secretly loyal to. 

The answer: news traveled fast. Those civilians who were aware enough to follow hidden village events bowed and scraped - the way you’d treat a maniac who you believed was a moment away from snapping and murdering you where you stood. The few ninja he encountered mostly took one look at him and vanished. 

One night, a ninja from the Sand, bolder than the rest, actually approached Shikaku in a tavern’s common room. Told him, in a tone of voice one would use to talk about the weather, that he’d been declared an S-class criminal and had one of the higher bounties in the bingo book. 

Shikaku acted nonchalant, glancing lazily at the other man. His quick memory supplied a name when he saw the distinct turban. Baki, one of the Sand’s top jonin. He’d made his way into more than one Leaf intelligence report over the years. 

“Here to collect?” 

Baki smirked and shook his head. “Here to talk. See what you’re made of.” 

“Here to recruit,” Shikaku corrected him. 

It was not unheard of for one village’s missing-nin to become another’s hero. And everyone knew the Sand was weaker than the Leaf. They’d bend over backwards to add the former Jonin Commander into their ranks. The secrets he could give them were ten times more valuable to the Sand than collecting the price on his head. 

“Huh. The book said you were smart.” If he was ashamed at being called out, Baki didn’t show it. “Well? Shall we cut to the chase?” 

Small and relatively weak as the Sand was, it was a tempting offer. Acting within another village would afford him much more protection than traveling alone. But the deal had significant downsides. He would actually become the traitor he was pretending to be, for the price of admission would certainly be classified intelligence. Intel that would get many of his friends killed when the Sand encountered them next. 

“Not interested,” he said aloud. “I’m out on my own. If the Kazekage has a specific mission in mind, tell him to hire me.” 

“Freelance, huh? Good way to get yourself killed,” Baki said, though there was no killing intent behind his words. The half of his face Shikaku could see mostly looked amused. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Right…” Shikaku flipped a few coins onto the bar, enough to cover both of their drinks. Hands in pockets, he affected total nonchalance as he walked up to his room.

Once inside, he set to work laying traps. Amiable as Baki appeared, he wasn’t going to take the other ninja’s word for it. It was quite possible the Sand jonin had been given orders to drag him back, willingly or not.

But hours passed, and nothing happened. Just when Shikaku was actually starting to relax, a knock on the door keyed his nerves back up to the breaking point. 

He slunk into a darkened corner of his room and made the appropriate hand-signs. His shadow clone walked over and opened the door.

The bartender walked into the room, which… was not right. The man had been terrified by the mere sight of Shikaku. Hadn’t turned down his patronage, but hadn’t even been willing to meet his gaze as he pocketed the money.

A Transformation technique. Baki? Or someone else? 

“Relax,” the bartender said, in a voice that belonged to someone else. He ignored the clone in front of him and turned to where Shikaku had concealed himself. One of his eyes flashed red, for the briefest instant, and the Nara knew.  

His clone closed and locked the door, drew the curtains across the window, and promptly vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Itachi,” Shikaku said levely. He stepped out of the corner - there was no hiding from the Sharingan - but he didn’t relax just yet. As far as he knew, their alliance against Danzo had been a one-off. Itachi had cooperated for the sake of the village. If that same village assigned him to hunt down Shikaku, he’d do it. Kill him without a second thought, probably. 

“Relax,” Itachi said again, though he didn’t dispel the transformation technique. “I’m not even here. I’m back in the village, sleeping.” 

Shikaku raised one eyebrow. He hadn’t exactly been meandering these last couple weeks. He was at least two hundred miles from the Leaf, in some no-name little country far from any of the other villages. The level of fine chakra control to send a clone this far, and transform its appearance flawlessly, was nothing short of remarkable. 

“What’s so urgent that you couldn’t send a summon?” 

Itachi’s borrowed face fell. “I’m afraid my freedom of movement is somewhat… restricted.” 

Shikaku felt a chill run up his spine. “Don’t tell me, Danzo-” 

“Ah… no. It’s for a ‘good’ reason, though it is nonetheless irritating.” A long sigh. “You are looking at the Fifth Hokage.” 

“Shit,” was all Shikaku could muster for that. In his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined his plan working out like that. The Uchiha clan’s full rights and privileges being restored, yes, he’d planned on that. But one of their number finally taking the leadership role that Madara had infamously coveted? 

“I did not want it,” Itachi said frankly, “but it was the only option. The other candidates were Kakashi Hatake, who refused outright, and... Danzo himself, which was obviously to be avoided at all costs.” 

“I’m very grateful for your sacrifice,” Shikaku said, which would have sounded sarcastic if he hadn’t meant it so fervently. Danzo knew exactly who was responsible for the dissolution of Root. If he’d been named Hokage, the entire Nara clan would be at risk. 

“Everyone seems happy with the selection. My father believes it signals an apology to our clan, and he is very proud of me, which is going a long way towards repairing the damaged relationship with the village. Furthermore, it shows the outside world that your betrayal did not succeed. Instead of being left weaker, we are strong enough to put our past hatred aside and select a Uchiha as Hokage.” 

“Plus, young as you are, you’re arguably the strongest ninja in the village,” Shikaku said. “Doesn’t hurt.” 

Itachi seemed uncomfortable with the praise. The bartender’s face was fat and expressive, and it currently wore a frown. “It is not all good news. The elders were uncomfortable with my age, and while I am allowed to name my own advisors, the Third’s will also remain in their old positions.” 

“He’ll want ANBU,” Shikaku predicted. That was how the viper had formed Root in the first place, after all. 

“He won’t get it. ‘Hound’ is their new commander.” 

“Seriously? I could never get him to do anything he didn’t want to do.” 

“I believe he is willing to do anything to avoid becoming Hokage himself.” Itachi’s transformation allowed itself a small smile. “But I won’t let my guard down. Danzo is patient. He will try to accumulate power some other way.” 

Shikaku nodded. Nothing in their plan did anything but temporarily take away Danzo’s power. He was still an active threat, but if anyone could handle him, it was Itachi. 

“Listen, about…” Uncharacteristically, Itachi hesitated. “All of the Nara are alive and well, though I can’t speak to-” 

“I don’t want to know more,” Shikaku interrupted, his voice harsh. Thinking about his wife and son will only make his role, the heartless traitor, more difficult to play. “I trust you to keep your promise. That’s all we need to say.” 

Itachi inclined his head.

The room was silent for a few minutes. Itachi showed no signs of departing, even though he’d finished with the ostensible reason for coming all this way. 

Shikaku wasn’t born yesterday. He recognized a setup when he saw one. 

“What are your plans now?” Itachi eventually asked. 

“I assume you have a suggestion on that front.” 

Itachi nodded. “At the height of the Leaf’s turmoil, I was… approached… by a certain individual. I believe they would have gladly helped me carry out the execution of the Uchiha clan, if it meant earning my loyalty.” 

“That’s insane. Wiping out a village’s clan would be a declaration of war. They’d be willing to risk all that?” 

“Yes,” Itachi said. No hesitation in his voice, just conviction. “The individual is not acting alone. They intend to assemble powerful missing-nin from all five villages. Their ultimate purpose… I confess, I still do not know that. But for the sake of the Leaf, we must know.”  

“So that was your plan after the massacre,” Shikaku realized. “Become a double agent, again. Feed intel on this group back to the Leaf.”  

“It was. Now we find ourselves in a… different situation.” 

“Meaning, it’ll need to be me.” Give Itachi this - young as he was, he was already a master of the Hokage staple: orders phrased as a gentle suggestion. Making your ninja want to do the thing you wanted them to do, and think it was their own idea.

In this case, it would work. Because Shikaku did not find the rudderless existence of a solo missing-nin at all appealing. He'd done all this for the sake of the village. If there was a potential threat to the Leaf out there, and his new status could let him fight it… he’d do it. 

“So how do I find them?” 

“You’ll accept the mission? Thank you,” Itachi said. A brief moment of silence before he continued, all business. “The group is called Akatsuki. Their recruiting methods are... unique. I believe, once you prove that you are a capable and dangerous missing-nin, they’ll come find you.” 

“Capable and dangerous… so, it’s time to start killing people,” Shikaku said, voice flat. He was not innocent. He’d killed a lot of people, especially during the War. Whoever the Leaf put in front of him. In a way, this mission wouldn’t be any different. 

“At the moment, you’re an unknown. If you prove your infamy and capability…” Itachi shrugged, pursed the bartender’s lips. “I see no other option. For the greater good… and the sake of peace.” 

“Leave it to me, kid,” Shikaku said. The informality earned him a flat look, but Itachi didn’t say anything. “And don’t come yourself next time. I’m an old hand, I’ll find a way to contact you.” 

“Very well.” With no further ado, the bartender crossed to the window. A moment later, a single crow flew silently out into the night.

The ceremony took place in the Nara forest in the dead of night.

One by one, the members of the clan took the silver knife. A quick flash of movement. The excess hair that had been bundled up with a tie was severed, floating to the ground. The grim-faced man passed the knife to his neighbor. 

Shikamaru was only seven years old, but the importance of the ritual was not lost on him. He waited patiently beside his mother and uncles for his turn.

After what his father - after what that traitor - had done, it had hardly been prudent to walk around the village wearing their hair in the traditional fasion. Not when it served as such a stark reminder of him. The elders had framed it differently: a matter of lost honor, the need for a dramatic statement, but Shikamaru didn’t trust their self-serving words.

Honor was an excuse. Something that weak men clung to for protection, to justify themselves. 

He saw the look in the eyes of the Nara men. He knew this was about protecting themselves. They’d pretend they’d acted out of shame, but they couldn’t disguise the fear. A small distinction, but it made all the difference. 

He was the clan heir. The knife came to him last. As he took it in his small hand, he noticed the elders and clan members both watched him carefully, in that way the adults often would when they talked about him behind his back.  

As if he wasn’t already smarter than they were.  

What would they do, if Shikamaru refused to do it? Would any of them dare to physically overpower the clan heir? Would his mother try to yell at him like he was still a powerless child? 

Part of him already longed to throw off the shackles of obligation that the traitor had foisted on him. His life wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to still be slacking his way through the Academy, squandering his so-called ‘genius’ level intelligence and living a comfortable, ordinary life. 

That wasn’t an option now. Enemies in the village would be waiting for the Nara heir to fail. Or prove himself as tainted stock, the same as his traitor father. 

They'd be waiting a long time. Shikamaru was too proud to give them the satisfaction.

Shikaku needed to die for what he’d done. By Shikamaru’s hand. That was the only way to restore the Nara clan’s old position in the village. He was smart enough to know he wasn’t ready, wasn’t strong enough - but one day, he would be.

For now, he’d bide his time. And he’d remember those in the village who decided to blame a child for the actions of a man. Once the traitor was dead, it would be their turn to pay their proper recompense. 

In the end, he only hesitated long enough to watch the elders squirm. Then he brought the knife up - and cut. 

Chapter Text

Before his dramatic departure, Shikaku had called Danzo a snake. But the more he tangled with the man in council meetings, the more Itachi disagreed. His words were certainly poisonous, and he concealed his fangs; but his Danzo’s dangerous attribute was his patience. He’d lost almost everything, the entire organization he’d worked so hard to build in the shadows, but it didn’t stop him from acting with the same arrogance and easy self-assurance.

Danzo, Itachi decided, was most like a great hunting cat. He would stalk his prey and sit patiently for hours. Waiting for the perfect moment to spring. 

It had only been a couple of months, but the Fifth Hokage’s honeymoon period was decidedly over. At least within his own council. Itachi had expected this and established the most important matters early on. Moving the Uchiha out of their isolated compound and back into their old grounds would be his most controversial move, and had needed to happen in those critical early days. Ditto his proclamation that the Nara clan was to retain all of its old rights and privileges. The village’s official stance was that Shikaku was a lone traitor, not worthy of his clan name - and not reflecting back on it, either.

Danzo had argued vehemently against both measures. Interestingly, he was just as much in favor of punishing the Nara as he had been in isolating the Uchiha. To Itachi, that just made the man more of a threat. He’d been prepared to wipe out an entire clan, and it hadn’t even been personal. 

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the former Third, had finally agreed to join the council of advisors. He’d been wary of throwing his weight around, and, Itachi guessed, wracked with guilt about his own handling of Danzo. Fugaku had been against Hiruzen’s appointment, suspecting that he would be as easily influenced by Danzo as he’d been as Hokage, but Itachi had risked it. So far, his father’s fears had not materialized. 

Hiruzen was a good man, and made for an excellent advisor. He’d just been singularly unsuited to handle the tough decisions. It would have been better if the Fourth had never died - for a variety of reasons. 

Itachi rounded out his new council with Fugaku - and with Hiashi Hyuga. The latter was practically a necessity. Two Uchiha in important leadership were two too many for several of the clans. Hiashi’s status as head of arguably the most powerful clan in the village, combined with his well-known dislike of Itachi’s father, reassured them that the council would be no mere rubber-stamp. 

But elevating Hiashi came with its own set of compromises. Itachi was well-aware of the Hyuga clan’s internal affairs from his time in ANBU. Now, the Fifth Hokage was signaling his implicit support for the continuation of the cursed seals. Hiashi would react with violent displeasure at any attempt to end the practice. 

Sacrificing one subset of the village for the greater good of the rest. Exactly as the Third had been prepared to do. True, Itachi was hardly ordering a genocide, but the difference of degree was not enough to help him sleep at night. 

When it came to the orphan carrier of the Nine-Tailed Fox, though, Itachi was prepared to put his foot down. 

“Naruto Uzumaki was tossed out of another orphanage,” the ANBU reported. His mask was that of a fox, which was suitably ironic for his new assignment of trailing the host’s every move. “That’s his third. And the last one in the village that was even willing to take him in.” 

Itachi trusted very few of his former companions - Root’s influence on the organization had gone deep. Kakashi and Tenzo had been the other members of his cell, though. If he could not trust them with these tasks, he might as well purge the entire organization.  

‘Hound’ lounged at one side of the room, playing the role of ANBU captain and Hokage’s bodyguard, seemingly bored with the entire conversation. But Itachi hardly needed a Sharingan to know that it was an act. Kakashi was deeply invested in what happened to the son of his beloved former sensei. 

“Thank you, Fox.” Itachi turned to his advisors. “The current status quo is not acceptable. The prohibition against speaking of the Nine-Tails has not stopped most of the ninja in the village from discriminating against Uzumaki. And though we keep our children in ignorance, they learn from the behavior of their parents.” 

Hirzuen bit his lip and said nothing. Any criticism of former village policy, no matter how gently Itachi phrased it, was nonetheless condemnation of his actions as Hokage. But he bore this the way he’d born all of the rest - with relatively good grace.  

“We’ve discussed this before,” Danzo said. His face was blank, but he let the sneer he wanted to make drip into his tone. You are a child - you cannot understand the hard choices we had to make. “Uzumaki is a weapon. As long as he is alive and well, why should we care?” 

“He is a weapon,” Itachi agreed. “He is also a child. A child that may one day remember the ill treatment he received at the hands of his own village. Surely it would be wiser to avoid that. Wiser to gain his loyalty as he learns to control his powers.” 

“You suggest we give him to the care of a clan?” Danzo countered. “That’s quite impossible. Showing such favoritism to one clan over the others would fracture the delicate peace in our village. If the Uchiha were to adopt him, for example, some would say that they have overreached, craved too much power.” 

He flicked his single exposed eye towards Fugaku, waiting for the explosion. But though Itachi’s father was well-known for his temper, he wasn’t a fool. He simply examined his own fingernails, ignoring the obvious jibe. 

“Difficult. Not impossible,” Itachi countered. “The clan that takes the child must be of unimpeachable loyalty to the village. And the head of the specific family must be well-known for his good character - while also being strong enough to protect Naruto from any outside threats.” Or internal threats, for that matter. 

He steepled his fingers, delivered his long-planned order with the precision of a senbon: “I am speaking of you, Lord Sarutobi.” 

Hiruzen looked as if he’d been stabbed. His easily expressive face showed more of the now-familiar guilt. For almost eight years, he’d been the one to keep Naruto an orphan. Now he was being asked to become the boy’s adoptive grandfather? (Itachi was counting on it: that guilt. He believed it would drive Hiruzen to lay down his own life for the boy's, if necessary. Not that he wanted that, but it was the kind of cold calculation he needed to make now). 

“Nobody can argue that the ‘God of Shinobi’ would not be a worthy caretaker,” Danzo said, in a tone of voice that said he was about to do exactly that. “But with his duties as advisor-” 

“Asuma Sarutobi has recently returned from the Feudal Lord’s court,” Hiashi said, neatly interrupting Danzo. If there was one benefit to his presence here, it was that he hated the man almost as much as the Uchiha did. “He is both a member of the family and a highly qualified jonin. Assign him the mission of protecting the boy. Between him, the distinguished Lord Third, and our eminently qualified ANBU-” A nod towards Fox. “-I would have no objections.” 

It was a good choice, for a mission that would be half protection and half simply being the father figure that Naruto had been lacking. Itachi didn’t know Asuma personally - he’d left the village almost the moment his father had re-assumed the role of Hokage - but his kindness and joviality was well-known. 

Behind his mask, Kakashi gave an imperceptible nod. Itachi knew that he’d be watching too, whenever he could spare the time. Highly alert and wary of anything that Shimura might try to do to Naruto. 

“I find myself outvoted,” Danzo said. Appearing to withdraw with good grace, but his single visible eye was flat and cold. “I hope that this is the right decision.”

The council discussed some easier matters, then broke apart. All in all, it had been a very good day. Itachi advanced another item on his agenda, and Danzo was once again defeated.

But he could not allow himself to relax. As long as Danzo still lived, he would be plotting. The other shoe would drop - it was simply a matter of when. 

If Itachi had been busy before, it was nothing compared to the work expected of the Hokage. The village system expected his personal approval of almost every action. It was too much for one man - even someone with his talents and abilities.

No wonder that Hiruzen had ceded so much power to Danzo. Allowed so much to slip past his notice, or willingly closed his eyes to it. He would need to change this system, of course. Formalize a system of deputies and delegation to manage a village which had grown beyond its founders’ wildest dreams. But for now, it was all he could do to keep up. 

He thought, with a distant stab of guilt, of Sasuke. His little brother’s hero-worship had only increased as Itachi moved from ANBU to the most powerful position in the village. Sasuke was determined that he would be the Sixth - and even more jealous of Itachi’s limited free time, begging for one on one training even more than before.

Itachi had started waiting for him to be asleep before returning home. Rising to leave before he woke up in the morning. He felt like a coward, but the alternative was so painful.

Besides, his poor and too-brief periods of sleep were no act. Living in the same home, staring at the same walls that he’d been fully prepared to coat with his parents’ blood, certainly had a way of keeping his mind from being able to sink into rest. 

Part of him wanted to tell them. To confess it all. But that part never won its argument. He couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces. 

His secretary knocked, interrupting his reverie. At his silent signal, she entered the office, a look of bewilderment on her face. “A child is here to see you, Lord Fifth. Without appointment.”

“Sasuke?” Itachi sighed, supposing that this was inevitable. Of course his little brother would sneak out to see him at some point. “Tell him I-” 

“Not Sasuke,” she said. “It’s… the Nara clan heir.” 

Itachi watched her face. Watched her lips start to form Shikamaru and then stop, opting for the impersonal title instead. Making him a thing, the sum of his family name. He could order the village to forgive and forget - but he could not force them to. And little touches like that signalled how difficult this task would be. 

“By all means. Send him in.” 

His first thought was that this must be what Shikaku had looked like as a seven-and-a-half year old. The resemblance between the two was uncanny. A trained eye like his could spot the differences, the places where his mother’s genes had exerted themselves; but to much of the village, he’d be the spitting image of the traitor. 

Like all the Nara, he’d shorn off most of his hair a few months ago. But unlike the older ninja, Shikamaru had let his grow back out again, in what Itachi assumed was a small act of defiance. He didn’t draw it up into the old tied-back style, so it fell loosely around his face. An purposefully unkempt appearance to contrast with his clean-cut clan members. 

Itachi hadn’t spoken with the boy, but he’d read the reports from the Academy teachers. Shikamaru had always scored towards the bottom of the class, but Iruka in particular had never believed it. No clan child would ordinarily place below an orphan like Naruto; they had too many advantages, already knew too much. He’d been convinced that Shikamaru was holding back on purpose, making sure he didn’t stand out.

Iruka had been right. The boy missed a week of classes; when he returned, it was as if he’d been replaced by someone else. Suddenly his grades were at the top of the class, barreling straight past Sasuke’s. But it wasn’t all good. In the practical sections, the mock-fights, Shikamaru had very nearly crippled a civilian kid. None of the teachers, even Iruka, had been prepared for the advanced taijutsu forms in the hands of a child.  

Itachi had still been debating what to do about it. Had never expected Shikamaru to walk right into his office. 

“You’re the one who exposed his treachery,” the boy said. His tone was flat and cold. Far too much for a child. 

“Are you here to take your revenge?” Itachi seemed relaxed, but it was a serious question. In the world they lived in, only a fool would underestimate someone based on their age. 

Shikamaru appraised him, shook his head once. “No. You acted correctly. The Nara clan officially condemns his actions and supports you as Hokage.” 

“That’s the clan heir speaking. What about Shikaku’s son?” 

“Don’t say his name,” the boy snapped. Anger, breaking through his previously careful control. Shikamaru relaxed a moment later, but the damage had been done.

“Why are you here?” Itachi assumed he’d waited until his mother slept and snuck out of the house, past any guards his clan put up at night. It wasn’t something you expected a child who had not yet turned eight to be able to pull off, but here he was. 

“The Academy. It’s a waste of time for someone like me,” Shikamaru said. “I know you get reports. You know what I can do.” 

“Ah. You want to graduate early.” It wasn’t hard to put together. Not when Itachi himself had once stood where the boy stood. Less angry, perhaps, but no less determined to prove himself for the sake of his clan. Hoping that his individual loyalty and good performance would be enough to make the village forgive them. (It hadn’t been). 

“Iruka-sensei said he’d ask you, but I know he was lying. He didn’t know what to do,” Shikamaru said, as if seeing through an accomplished chunin’s deception was the kind of thing he did every day. Maybe it was. 

“And what do you want to do?” 

“Take the chunin exams. I’m not even the oldest in recent memory. There’s Hatake, and you, of course. Once I pass, I want to join ANBU, like you did.” 

Itachi pursed his lips. It made sense that Shikamaru would find all of that out. It wasn’t exactly a secret; the Uchiha had been incredibly proud of his accomplishment. And yet… what had throwing a seven year old child into ANBU done for him? For Kakashi? Nothing good. He saw the damage it had done to his old teammate. And for his part, it had led him down a path so dark that he’d almost killed his entire clan for the sake of his village. 

An impossible choice. An impossible situation. One he had no intention of inflicting on the boy in front of him.

Shikamaru misunderstood the reason for his silence, kept talking: “I don’t want him to hold me back. I’m loyal. And I need to get stronger. Strong enough to kill him, and prove it to all the idiots who doubt me.” 

Even worse. But it wasn’t like Itachi could come out and tell the truth. That Shikaku was no traitor. That he was, in fact, one of the Leaf’s top operatives, a double agent within the most dangerous group of missing-nin in the world. 

“There are different kinds of strength,” he said aloud. “I don’t doubt you are capable. But even in ANBU, ninja do not work alone. If you graduated now, you’d leave your teammates behind. Break generations of tradition.” 

“Choji? Ino?” Shikamaru snorted, an ugly little sound. “They’re not on my level. You’d be wasting a potential asset to the village if you make me wait around for them.” 

“That is exactly what you will do,” Itachi said. Now it was his turn to sound cold. “Referring to them in that way proves my point. For all your talent, you don’t have the emotional maturity for ANBU. Not by a long shot.” 

Just a few years ago, the village would have overlooked those warning signs. Run the kid through the wringer, the way it had with Kakashi and Itachi himself. Now? Things were going to change.

Shikamaru scowled, but didn’t argue. Just gave a little bow, so brief as to be insulting, and stomped out of the office, hands balled into fists. 

Itachi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he’d made the right decision - the only chance of reversing the already-inflicted psychological damage was to keep Shikamaru with his peers, make sure he formed friendships and connections. But the boy was stubborn, and already all too aware of his own talents compared to the other students. If they weren’t careful, holding him back like this would only deepen his contempt. 

He scribbled a note for Iruka. This situation would need to be handled very carefully. 

Shikaku managed to get Akatsuki’s attention in record time. All it took was a few months of assassinations to leave him one of the most notorious active missing-nin.

He’d long since mastered the art of numbing himself to the lives he took. Orders were orders. They always had been. There might be more layers of complexity associated with this scheme, but at the end of the day people died at his hand and at the direction of his Hokage. The same as it had always been.

He and Itachi didn’t dare to let a discernible pattern emerge in his victims. He needed to play his part, which was a man who’d kill anyone for the right price. He only took out enemies of the Leaf when their bounty had been placed by a third party, someone who could not be traced back to the village.  

And so: the organization contacted him. Said they’d send one of their members out to appraise him. Shikaku knew this was his one chance. He had to pass whatever test would be set in front of him.

Unfortunately, their information on the members of Akatsuki was painfully lacking. Hence the reason he’d drawn this mission in the first place. 

He’d run through the entire bingo book and set a strategy for each possibility. But the man who walked into his room still managed to surprise him. Because the face might be different, and he might be dressed in a black robe adorned with red roses, but Shikaku felt the chakra and knew exactly who he was looking at.

“Orochimaru.” 

The Snake Sannin’s lips split into a wide and predatory smile. “Shikaku Nara. The esteemed and loyal Jonin Commander of the Leaf. Imagine my surprise when I heard that you turned traitor.” 

This was not good. Their cover story had never been investigated too closely. Ninja betrayed their own villages for power all the time. Shikaku was looking at the perfect example. But Orochimaru knew him personally. Knew that such an act would be unthinkable, against his very nature. 

“Well, I believe the organization could certainly use someone of your talents,” Orochimaru said easily. “Come with me.” 

Shikaku was far too experienced a ninja to let his surprise show, but for the life of him he could not think of what to say to that. He’d been bracing himself for a fight to the death to prevent the Snake Sannin leaving the room. Instead…

Orochimaru filled the silence with a laugh. There was nothing natural about it. It was like watching some great snake’s attempt at copying a human emotion. A chill ran up the Nara’s spine. 

“Must I explain myself? You’ve become dull in your old age, if so.” This, from a man who was many years older than Shikaku. Or… he had been. His current body looked a good deal younger. What forbidden, evil technique had the Snake Sannin used to take control of it? 

Shikaku licked his lips. “Loyalty is no virtue in an organization like this. You assume you have something over me. Something that will motivate me to do your bidding when you move against the other members.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Nara. It doesn’t suit you,” Orochimaru hissed. “I know very well that you’re still loyal to that pathetic little village. Well, it doesn’t bother me. As you guessed, I have my own agenda. But the others? True believers. They might… take issue with it. Still, as long as you don’t give me a reason to share what I know, we should get along splendidly. Don’t you agree, my fellow ‘traitor’?” 

Shikaku knew an unbreakable trap when he saw it. He nodded, just once.

Consider this a modification to your mission parameters, he thought. He needed to get Orochimaru exiled from the Akatsuki as soon as possible. He hadn’t come this far, sacrificed so much, to become that lunatic’s errand boy. 

For now, though? He’d have to be. He had no other choice but to bide his time. Scurry about doing Orochimaru’s bidding. And somehow gather enough information to bring the Snake Sannin’s operations down. 

A seemingly impossible task. 

But that’s what this mission had been from the start. What was one more complication?

Chapter Text

Orochimaru hadn’t changed much in the intervening years, which was lucky. The Snake Sannin seemed utterly incapable of true loyalty, and had an almost pathological need to pursue his own agenda at the expense of his masters.

Shikaku didn’t need to dig for long to uncover the evidence for a Hidden Village called the Sound. There was always a paper trail, if you knew where to look and what to look for. Akatsuki already had control in Rain; Orochimaru running off to start up a competing village was both a direct affront to their plans and completely predictable. The guy always needed to be in control. 

He waited a few months, scuttling about and doing Orochimaru’s bidding. Then, just when he was starting to get comfortable, Shikaku made his move, and publicly declared the existence of Sound during the next full meeting of the Akatsuki. The look on the Snake Sannin’s face was a thing of beauty. 

Akatsuki did not have a retirement policy, and didn’t take well to traitors. Shikaku was dispatched with Kisame, one of the Seven Swordsmen, to express Pain’s personal displeasure. 

Orochimaru, as expected, turned tail and fled to wherever the Sound was. But at least Kisame enjoyed himself, smashing up the snake’s secret laboratory and slaughtering the experimental creatures that had been left behind. Quite a sword he had - it seemed to hunger for blood. 

“You aren’t so bad,” Kisame said, once the job was done. From him, it was high praise. “I’ll stick with you.” 

Shikaku knew the Monster of the Hidden Mist by reputation, and his personal observations only reinforced what he’d suspected. If there was a true loyalist within Akatsuki, it was Kisame. This partnership was a signal that the mysterious Pain did not yet fully trust him - which was wise - and had dispatched a loyal creature to keep an eye on him. 

“Sounds good,” he said aloud, smirking. “We made a good team back there.” 

It quickly proved next to impossible to continue slipping intel reports to Itachi - not under Kisame’s watchful eyes. But Shikaku could only assume that the Fifth Hokage would find some way to contact him if it became absolutely necessary.

For now, he would bide his time. 

Iruka’s occasional reports on Shikamaru Nara seemed encouraging. After his talk with Itachi, the boy’s behavior had not changed. He didn’t act out in class or express displeasure with his situation. Indeed, he was a model student.

Itachi did not believe a word of it. 

Such boundless ambition would not be so easily contained by one dressing-down, even from the Hokage himself. Shikamaru had taken a chance, and once rejected, he was back to acting the part expected of him.

Could Itachi’s plan actually work? Would forcing him to move through the Academy at the normal pace make that false, forced compliance give way to genuine friendships? 

Itachi could only hope. He was very busy. Too busy to play mentor to one troubled child out of the scores in the village. 

Iruka’s other reports were more encouraging. It seemed Naruto had taken to the Sarutobi household like a fish to water. He’d quickly gained hero-worship for Asuma. Most recently, he'd taken to the old boyhood staple of ‘my father figure could beat up your father,’ causing an argument that spiraled into a minor fight and disrupted class. (Iruka had let it slide - he was just happy that the kid was starting to get some friends).

The former Root children had adjusted well, too. For the most part, their traumatic training displayed itself in being a little too eager, a little too obedient, compared to the others of their age; but Iruka didn’t foresee any major problems in their social adjustment.

None of them had come to Itachi to warn him of Danzo, though. Even without the cursed seals, they didn’t dare to cross him. The real question was - did their loyalty extend beyond the passive? What would happen if Danzo called on them again? 

He’d need to get in touch with Hound, order a covert investigation… one or two agents to start following the kids at random, see if they went anywhere strange or did anything out of the ordinary…  

It was shaping up to be another late night. Itachi sighed again, scribbling a note to send to his parents’ home. His regrets at missing dinner, and a promise to Sasuke that they’d train some other day. 

Most eight year olds were not particularly aware of the subtle dynamic between the three clans during their weekly gatherings.

But then, most eight year olds were not as smart as Shikamaru. 

It was an arrogant thing to think, and he knew that arrogance was a bad habit in the world they lived in. Assume you know everything and you would quickly end up dead when the opponent drew on a technique you’d never studied and couldn’t have predicted. So he never allows himself to think that he is the smartest child in the world, or that his genius would count for anything if he encounters an enemy jonin tomorrow, or anything like that.

Yet he knew where he stood relative to his peers. He'd studied them in class every day for the past year, after all. A couple of them - Shino, Sasuke, Ino herself - were skilled in their clan techniques, smart, and learned quickly. In another world, he guessed they’d be at the top of the class as he continued to idle along. 

But he never let himself think about that world for long. He needed to focus on the one he lived in. The one where that man is a traitor, and casts a long shadow over the clan that he abandoned. 

The Nara were saved from the same treatment that the Uchiha got by two things. One: the Akimichi and Yamanaka clans were investigated and cleared of all wrongdoing. As such, Ino and Choji’s fathers retained their positions and political power. The two men made it clear that any attempt to discriminate against the remaining Nara would offend the other two clans as well. The ancient alliance was shaken, but not broken. 

Two: the new Hokage. Despite being a member of the clan the traitor had intended to scapegoat, Itachi Uchiha did not push for any punishment against the Nara clan. Indeed, one of his first proclamations had been to explicitly forbid it. Shikamaru could tell that his mother and the clan elders had not been expecting this. He’d been sitting in on a council when then news broke, and the elders’ unguarded expressions of relief had told him more than their words. Itachi had emerged from a cycle of revenge and hatred, but had defied the odds and chosen to break it. 

Choza was a kind man. Inoichi, not so much, if the stories out of T&I are to be believed. Still, both had been more than teammates with that man; they’d been close friends. They took it upon themselves to protect the wife and son he’d abandoned. 

It was good to still have allies despite the worst case scenario. But their support came with strings. The next generation of Ino-Shika-Cho would face a heavy burden. It would need to be stronger than ever. The three members’ loyalty to the village would need to be resolute and unbreakable. 

That was a problem. Because Shikamaru’s plans for himself, and for his revenge, did not involve being dragged down by a couple of weaklings. 

Ino, despite her natural intelligence, was… insufferable. More concerned with making friends and her social status as queen bee of the kunoichi than actually learning or getting stronger. They hadn’t exactly been friends, before, and it had only gotten worse as Shikamaru had stopped pretending to listen when she talked. (He no longer had the patience. Whatever she wanted to say was almost always a waste of time. Some stupid gossip, when he could be studying or training). 

And Choji… Granted, he was Shikamaru’s closest friend, but qualities that had never bothered him before started to count against the other boy now. Like the fact that Choji was too kind and soft to become a killer. He’d become a ninja, but there was a difference. His only motivation was to protect his friends. That could carry him a certain distance, but not nearly far enough. Not to the same place Shikamaru intended to go. 

Hence his midnight visit to the Hokage’s Tower. He’d gone in total secrecy, because neither his mother nor the two clan heads would approve of what he was asking for. ANBU was respected, but not enough to break up the ancient formation.

He’d dared to hope that Itachi might be different. The Fifth was young, and had already proven to be innovative and daring. But it had been no use. The message was clear: they’d be holding him back, despite his superior talents, because they hoped he’d develop some sense of camaraderie with his future team. 

Four years until Academy graduation. And who knew how long he’d be expected to stay on the team with Ino and Choji after that. The Nara had once been one clan among equals, but now existed at the whim of the other two. If he separated himself from the team too quickly, it might mean offending people the Nara could not afford to offend. 

Shikamaru’s mind kept racing along, but he didn’t let any of this turmoil show on his face as the ceremony dragged on. People were watching him. People were always watching him. Some were curious about how he was handling his new role as presumptive head of the clan. Some were eager for him to fail so their own clans could fill the power vacuum.

And some were watching to make sure he didn’t turn traitor. That such things did not run in the blood. 

As soon as he could do so without insulting anyone, though, Shikamru pulled away from the gathering. Moved himself to the edges of the group as they talked and ate and handled small matters that didn’t rise to the level of formal clan business. Sat cross-legged under one of the vast trees and closed his eyes. 

Yes, being stuck on a team would hold him back. Their sensei would hardly train him in the advanced techniques he craved. They’d be sticking leaves to their bodies, learning to tree-walk and, if Ino and Choji really put their minds to it, stand on water. The kinds of things he'd already taught himself over the past year. 

He’d need to find an alternative. Steal more scrolls from the Nara clan library and, if possible, find his way into other libraries. Reading and practicing on your own could only get you so far, but it was the only option he had, when he'd already outpaced the Academy curriculum and standard genin training. 

Sounds of movement. Heavy footsteps from someone who made no effort to conceal their presence. Shikamaru didn’t need to open his eyes to know that it was Choji. Trailing after him, again, like a lost puppy. 

Horrible thing to think about someone. But it wasn’t that he disliked Choji. Quite the opposite. He was just acutely aware of Choji’s limitations.

“Hey Shikamaru. What’re you doing?”

“Thinking.” 

The inevitable follow-up: “What about?” 

Choji could hardly handle the truth. Shikamaru cracked one eye open, plastered a fake smile. (He wasn’t a very good actor. Young as she was, Ino was perceptive; he couldn’t fool her. But Choji accepted things at face value. Another thing a ninja shouldn’t do). 

Their clan alliance meant they’d always be here, on this team. But they weren’t friends because of the alliance. They were friends because Shikamaru had saved Choji from bullies, not out of obligation, but because of who he was and who Choji was. 

He liked Choji more than he liked Ino. But of the two of them… it was Choji who would really hold their team back. Ino would one day grow out of her girlish phase, but Choji’s kindness, his softness, was so fundamental to him… 

“I don’t want to be here,” he said, which was true enough. “I’d rather be training.” 

“You’re always training,” Choji said, a little sadly. Doubtless because Shikamaru no longer had time for what had once been their regular afternoon of eating and doing nothing while staring up at the clouds. Such activity was incompatible with learning new techniques, practicing chakra control, and raising his endurance.

“It’s good to take breaks every one in a while, right?” 

“This isn’t a break,” Shikamaru said. He could be cruel, as cruel as his thoughts, but there was no point to that. “It’s a formal clan function.” 

“I guess,” Choji shrugged. “But it’s just our family and friends, right?” 

“You don’t get it,” he said, and now the impatience bled through despite his best efforts. “After what happened, with the position the Nara clan is in… Everything’s changed, Choji. I can’t afford to relax.” 

Choji’s eyes went wide. “Even here?”

“Especially here.” 

“That’s silly. Dad won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Choji, Shikamaru thought, would never understand. He didn’t have enough pride for it to be wounded. He couldn’t wrap his head around Shikamaru’s need to prove himself - to his allies, most of all.

Choji seemed to sense that he’d made some misstep, because he spoke again before the silence could really stretch out: “I could help you train.” 

“Sure,” Shikamaru said, even managing a smile that was closer to 'real'.

He could get more done on his own, of course, but the elders and adults were watching. He was expected to go off and train with his future teammate. It wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, not the way him slinking off on his own would.

And that was what he needed to do, for the next few years, anyway: what he was expected to do. Keep his true desires to himself. Wait until the moment is perfect.

His revenge couldn't be achieved without great patience. And unfortunately for the traitor, Shikamaru was willing to wait. 

Chapter Text

Hound arrived two hours late.

With everything that had changed, it was nice to know that some things remained the same. Itachi had grown quite used to the man’s habits, first when they served on the same ANBU squad and later during the five years they were Hokage and ANBU Commander, respectively. Kakashi was predictably unpredictable, so Itachi had taken to double-booking meetings, handling other business while he waited. 

In five years, he’d never once had to cancel the other meeting. And it wasn’t like Itachi was sitting around twiddling his thumbs. The Hokage’s workload remained crushing, even though he’d alleviated it somewhat by hiring a group of full-time assistants. Ninja in the village spoke of the ‘paper corps’ with contempt and openly hoped to avoid drawing the assignment - leaving Itachi to rely on a rotating group of the elderly and wounded, to limited effect. 

He hoped to eventually hit on people who were both skilled and passionate enough to make a real difference. He knew the Third had relied heavily on Shikaku Nara for this sort of thing… Which was obviously out of the question now. And the remaining Nara were not exactly lining up to work for him, despite his clemency. 

Kakashi eschewed walking through the door like a normal person and jumped in through the window. This was also typical enough that Itachi didn’t even look up from his scroll. 

“I have a new assignment for you. You are not going to like it, but it’s too important for you to refuse.”

No reaction from the other man. He was wearing the Hound mask, but it went deeper than that. Itachi wasn’t blind, yet, and he knew his former teammate fairly well. Kakashi Hatake has always been a workaholic, a loner, but when Hound became the ANBU Commander, the last vestiges of his personal life vanished completely. 

A retired ANBU was a rare sight. Typically, the ninja either died in the field or eventually got so messed up by what they did that they took their own lives. Kakashi might not realize it himself, but was barreling straight towards the latter. 

“The assignment is for Kakashi Hatake. Not Hound,” Itachi said gently. 

Only a second’s hesitation before the other man removed his mask. Well, the first mask. Obviously the rest of his face was still mostly covered, but his single visible eye narrowed at Itachi, scanning the scroll the Hokage handed him.

“Are you serious?” he said, in a voice rough with disuse. 

“Very.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Aren’t genin the future of our village, the most critical assignment of all?” 

“Don’t bullshit me... sir,” Kakashi said. Remembering the title after a moment's hestitation. “We both know I’ve never trained a team. I don’t know the first thing about handling kids.” 

Itachi sighed. “True. But this is an unusual situation. As you well know, the boy’s father is an incredibly dangerous traitor. A member of an organization that represents an incredible threat to the Leaf Village.” 

It was troubling how easy it was to sit there and lie to Kakashi’s face. Weasel, Hound, and Fox had once been an unstoppable ANBU cell, closer than brothers, in their own way. Now Itachi was handing a one-time friend a dangerous mission with incomplete information. 

Obviously, it wasn’t Shikaku that he was worried about. It was what might happen if the rest of Akatsuki found out the truth. Or engaged in some villainous power play against each other and saw the Nara's son as a potential weak spot. 

Kakashi remained mulishly silent, so he forged on: “And it’s not just protection. You’re selling yourself short. Any of these children would love to be instructed by the famous Copy Ninja.”

It was no mean feat to earn that name for yourself when there was an entire clan who had the same eyes as your single borrowed one. But most of the Uchiha simply took advantage of their eyes’ ability to predict their opponent’s movements before finishing them off with Uchiha techniques they’d already mastered. Kakashi, partially out of necessity, was an innovator. 

“There’s more,” Kakashi said, as if sensing something in the ensuing silence. 

Itachi nodded. “This year’s class is highly unusual. The container of the Nine-Tails, the son of a traitor, my own younger brother, half a dozen clan heirs - and if that wasn’t enough, three of the former Root kids. I want all of our top jonin to take teams this time. Even Fox is taking a leave of absence from ANBU to teach one.” 

He’d be leading the Root team, specifically. Sai, Torune, and Fū had all been model students, but Itachi was wary of mingling them in with the other teams. Even this many years later, he couldn’t be sure that Danzo didn’t have some conditioning that he could activate at will. But if anyone could see through that sort of thing, Tenzo could.

Asuma was the natural choice to guard and teach Naruto - it was simply an extension of the relationship that already existed. Itachi was impressed enough with his work to entrust him with Sasuke, too. And Kurenai was one of the top genjutsu specialists in the village, perfectly suited to lead a tracking team.     

“Reminds me of my team,” Kakashi said as he flipped through the file, reading it in earnest this time. He quickly added: “That’s not a good thing. I was an arrogant little shit who thought I could do it all on my own.” 

Itachi smiled at him. “How better to avoid Shikamaru repeating your mistakes?” 

Kakashi grunted, pocketed the file and jumped out of the window without further ado. Itachi decided to take that as a ‘yes.’ 

It wasn’t like Kakashi made any attempt to hide the reason he was so perpetually late. Almost every ninja in his generation had lost someone, and understood the strange allure of the Memorial Stone. And all of them had enough respect for him - or fear of him, which worked just as well - to leave him to it. 

Occasionally, an assassin from an enemy village thought to make use of his habit. They’d quickly discovered that Kakashi only seemed fixated on the stone. And that another advantage of spending so much time there was knowing the surrounding terrain like the back of his hand. The assassins had never reported back; ensuring another would one day have the same bright idea as his or her dead fellows.

All of which was to say that Kakashi wasn’t entirely surprised when a kid walked up to him and cleared his throat. He was even less surprised when the kid introduced himself. Shikamaru Nara, taking some initiative. 

“I know you’re going to be our sensei,” the boy said. 

“Oh yeah?” Kakashi said, affecting a lazy drawl. Through his veneer of unconcern, he studied Shikamaru closely. Just another twelve year old, except for his eyes. There was a fire there, and a thinly veiled contempt that he couldn’t entirely hide, no matter how much of a genius he might be on the paper tests.

The contempt was familiar. That was part of what had gotten Obito killed - Kakashi only realizing the value of his teammates when it was entirely too late. 

“Yes,” Shikamaru said. He held up four fingers on one hand and began to tick them down. “Those three kids who joined our class suddenly when we were 7 are going to stick together. I don’t know why, but they’re obviously connected to some of the village turmoil around that time.” 

Interesting, that he spoke of it like some event he had no stake in, instead of ‘when my father betrayed the village.’ Kakashi still couldn’t quite square the Shikaku he’d known with that traitor, but stranger things had happened. Itachi was pretty tight-lipped about it, but clearly didn’t trust his own inner council. Leftover accomplices? Or something more sinister? 

“Shino, Hinata, and Kiba are a ready-made tracker team. They could be put onto other teams - especially Hinata, since she’s also a powerful close-range fighter - but I don’t think they will. Because that leaves the remaining team as Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura. Two of the top students to balance out the one in dead last. Spreads the talent relatively evenly through all of the teams.”

He hadn’t even listed his own team. Ino-Shika-Cho was simply a matter of course. 

“Asuma Sarutobi will get that team,” Shikamaru continued. “Naruto’s practically a Sarutobi now, and there was a noticeable change in his behavior when the family adopted him as their ward. Asuma is probably the only sensei he’ll listen to.” 

Kakashi hummed noncommittally, his face absolutely devoid of emotion. “And I’ll teach your team? Why do you think that?” 

“The Hokage already refused my request to graduate early. He knows I don’t want to be here. He knows there’s only one sensei I’ll listen to. Kakashi Hatake, the Copy Ninja. You are a genius. You did graduate early. And-” Shikamaru paused, so briefly that only someone like Kakashi would notice the flicker of hesitation. “You know what it’s like. To be branded with the sins of your own father as a child.” 

Real anger in his voice, not concealed well enough. He also shouldn’t have known the full story, so someone in Records had messed up. Or he’d gone and stolen the scrolls, which would be even more telling. 

Kakashi could see why Itachi had wanted him to take this team. Delaying the kid’s graduation instead of sending him into the ANBU meat grinder had been the right move, but even with that, he was heading down a dark path. That much resentment paired with that much ability wasn’t a healthy combination. 

Another familiar chord. Thanks in large part to Obito, Kakashi had eventually come to terms with the White Fang’s actions. Choosing your own friends over the mission - there was something noble about that. Something worth remembering and honoring. 

What Shikaku had done? Not so much. 

“Interesting guess. What if you’re wrong?” 

Shikamaru shrugged. “Could be. It’d just mean the village leadership isn’t as smart as I am.” 

Anger and arrogance. Yes - a poor combination. Even if he could back it up relative to his peers, there was always a bigger fish. Shikamaru probably thought he knew that, but brutal experience was the best teacher. 

“And why’d you come here?” 

“To meet you. See what you’re really like. Let you know that I see what they’re trying to do. It might even work - if you’re as good at teaching as you are at fighting.” Hunger. Eagerness to learn from someone as powerful as Kakashi. But what would he do if that learning didn’t come fast enough? If he felt like the other two kids held him back? 

“I suppose you’ll find out tomorrow,” Kakashi said, turning back to the Stone. A clear signal that the conversation was over.

Shikamaru got the message. He didn’t hang around. 

As the minutes turned into an hour, another hour, Shikamaru knew he’d gotten it right. No other sensei would be so casually late to pick up their team. 

Throughout the introductions, Kakashi acted bored. Like he didn’t want to be there and none of them were worth his time. No reaction when Shikamaru declared his intention to kill a man. Equally uninterested when Choji talked about protecting his friends and Ino said she’d become the strongest ninja in the village. 

The next day: the test. 

Shikamaru turned to the other two as soon as Kakashi had finished explaining and moved a little ways off, the two bells prominently attached to his belt. 

“Well?” 

Choji, nervous and uncertain, said nothing. But Ino scoffed, tossing her head. “Lying through his teeth. They wouldn’t break up this formation.” 

Shikamaru nodded. Ino might be annoying, but she was smart. He could work with that, for now. “It’s a test. To see if we can work as a team, and if we’re willing to theoretically sacrifice our future for our friends.” 

But seeing through it was one thing. Successfully capturing a jonin-level opponent, quite another. Their formation was perfectly suited for capture - that’s why it had worked for generation on generation - but a formation was only good as its parts. And Choji, who needed to be the lynchpin, was too hesitant. Too slow.

Kakashi pointed this out cheerfully as he tied Choji to the post. “Not like you’d have captured the real me anyway,” he added, before poofing out of existence. They’d been fooled by a shadow clone, all right. 

New rules: feed Choji, the weak link, and they’d be kicked out. Permanently. Would Shikamaru or Ino risk sacrificing their own promising futures for their friend? It was all an extension of the same test. A test within the test. Pretty well-done, in all honesty. 

Neither of them hesitated for a moment. 

Kakashi looked a little disappointed with how easily they’d seen through it, but he passed them all the same. Gave them his first lesson, which seemed to double as a personal credo: the only thing worse than abandoning the mission was abandoning one’s friends.

The White Fang’s infamous mistake, alive and well in his son.

Shikamaru might have passed the test today, but it didn’t mean he had to agree with that philosophy. He had a personal mission, more important than any the village could assign him. 

His team could either come along with him - or be left in the dust. 

Chapter Text

To someone at Shikamaru’s level, D-rank genin missions were arguably worse than the Academy. At least in a classroom he could be sitting and reading some higher-level scroll. Menial chores like pulling weeds, mending fences, locating lost pets - these were both time-consuming and physically exhausting, meaning he had less energy to train at the end of the day. 

Kakashi showed no interest in signing them up for anything higher-ranked. Shikamaru’s mood grew even more sour when Team Asuma returned from a supposed C-rank to the Land of Waves. In reality, they’d encountered and killed an infamous missing-nin. Sasuke had even awoken his Sharingan, which as far as Shikamaru knew, only happened in actual life or death situations. 

“This isn’t a game,” Kakashi said, unamused by his complaints. “Any out-of-village mission could run into a complication like that. Do you think this team is ready for it?”

“I’m ready for it,” Shikmaru grumbled. 

“Zabuza would’ve cut you into little pieces without breaking a sweat,” his sensei said bluntly. “Those three barely survived because they worked as a team. Unless you think you could take on a jonin-level opponent?” 

It was a challenge the Copy Ninja occasionally issued, whenever Shikamaru seemed to annoy him by talking about his own capabilities. The Nara always accepted, and it always ended the same way. Kakashi toying with him on the Training Ground before ending the duel with one of his thousand copied techniques. Shikamaru would walk home battered, bruised, burned - and completely undeterred. 

Besides - it wasn’t like the outcome would have been any different with a team. Choji was learning a few techniques, but he was still Choji - too soft, woefully unprepared to play the hammer to their formation’s anvil. Ino might be more focused, better prepared, but she couldn’t match Shikamaru’s intensity. Why would she? Her clan, her father, were alive and well. She’d never understand him. Didn’t want to try. 

All these months, and he’d barely learned anything from their sensei. No two ways about it: they were holding him back. 

As if to directly challenge him, Kakashi put them up for the chunin exams anyway. 

“He thinks they’re holding him back,” Kakashi said. 

Even to his normal eye, Itachi looked… tired. Being Hokage wasn’t an easy job at the best of times, and Itachi had inherited the seat with the village on the brink of civil war. Things seemed to have calmed down now, thanks to the decisions Itachi had made in those early days, but keeping things calm was doubtless a stressful experience.

It just intensified Kakashi’s own resolve to never find himself wearing that hat. 

“He hasn’t approached you about joining ANBU or anything like that, has he?” 

“No. He’s smart enough not to waste his time asking the same question twice. But this quiet resentment act isn’t any better.” 

A sigh. Shuffling of scrolls. “What do you think?”  

“Kid’s an arrogant little prick - also, isn’t wrong. He’s way ahead of where a normal genin should be. Choji and Ino aren’t especially weak - but not especially exceptional, either.” Kakashi shrugged. “Think I’ll put them into the chunin exams. See if some simulated life and death situations bring them any closer together.” 

“Go ahead.”

In retrospect, it was not Kakashi’s best idea. He bit his lower lip as he stared at the curse mark, black and angry, on Shikamaru’s neck. The circle of his seal held - for the moment.  

Why had Oorchimaru been targeting his student? Shikamaru was skilled enough, but the Nara clan didn’t have any bloodline techniques. Their shadow manipulation was a hidden technique, but anyone could do it if they learned the signs. Surely Oorchimaru would have preferred to get a Uchiha or a Hyuuga. Neji, for example, was just as exceptional as Shikamaru, with the Byakugan to boot. 

Unless Anko was right, and the mark fed on the user’s own negative emotions. Meaning it’d be a good deal more powerful on Shikamaru than anyone else.

The kid had managed to get through the first round of the preliminary matches without drawing on the mark, beating his opponent down with raw taijutsu. And Kakashi had managed to seal it after that. 

But he was no Jariya. And as Oorchimaru had so kindly informed him, Kakashi’s seal would only work to a certain extent. It relied completely on Shikamaru choosing not to draw on the curse’s power. 

Given Shikamaru’s attitude and approach so far, Kakashi wasn’t sure how much they could count on his restraint. It was time to change his strategy. Both Ino and Choji were out of the second round of the tournament. For a month, he’d give the Nara exactly what he’d been asking for: training in jonin-level techniques. An alternative to the curse’s power. 

He just hoped it’d be enough.

“Yeah, that checks out,” Kakashi said, looking at the gently smoldering paper.

“Fire,” Shikamaru said, because it didn’t take a genius to look at a burning paper and figure that. 

“It’s a start. Most jonin can easily use techniques from a second element, as well.” Kakashi fingered the streaks of dirt at the corners of the paper. “For you, Earth will be the second-easiest chakra to manipulate.”

“You can use all five.” 

Kakashi smirked at him. “And if you train very hard, you might reach my level one day.” 

Whatever Shikamaru would have said to that, he'd never know. That was the moment where Asuma interrupted them, Sasuke Uchiha on his heels. In Asuma’s hand: a piece of the testing paper, scorched at the edges but mostly crumpled. 

“Ah,” Kakashi said. “Lightning.” 

Asuma grinned and clapped his fellow jonin on the back. “They don’t call you a genius for nothing! Yeah, I’m absolutely useless with Lightning techniques.” (He would be, with his own Wind nature). 

“You want me to take your kid? Come on, you’re not the only one with a student in the finals.” 

“The only one with two,” Asuma said, beaming with pride. He glanced at the paper in Shikamaru’s fingers and clapped his hands together. “Look, I can do Fire, no problem. What do you say we trade for this month? Jariya came to pick up Naruto - Shikamaru will get my undivided attention.” 

Kakashi shrugged. “What do the brats think? It’s their training.” 

Affecting nonchalance, but if Shikamaru objected, he’d quash the idea. The last thing he needed was for the kid to feel like he was being passed off to an inferior option, feeding his resentment. 

Shikamaru looked at Sasuke, who stared right back. Sizing each other up. The Nara had missed all of the other matches, recovering in the hospital, but he’d gotten the full reports from Kakashi. So he’d heard how easily Sasuke dispatched that auditory genjutsu-user from the Sound. 

Itachi’s younger brother. Kakashi hadn’t spent much time with him, but the boy was off to a strong start. Quietly confident in his own abilities, highly skilled, but respectful and friendly. A good teammate, unlike Shikamaru. And awakening his Sharingan this early meant he’d be capable of Kakashi’s own signature ability… in theory.

“Fine with me,” Shikamaru said eventually. “Heard what you did to Zabuza.” 

Sasuke inclined his head. “It would be an honor, Kakashi-sensei.” 

Asuma grinned. “That’s that! We’ll figure out the terms of our bet when these two meet in the finals.” 

“Optimistic as ever,” Kakashi muttered. 

“Plenty of fire techniques are more destructive, but they’re too quick. There and gone in a moment,” Asuma said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Or they require a continuous stream of chakra and immobilize you, such as the Uchiha’s Great Fireball technique. Neither is a good fit for you. You want to control the battlefield and herd opponents into the range of your shadows.” 

He inhaled, exhaled a cloud of something heavy into the air, continued lecturing. “This one’s my own invention, Ash Pile Burning. The ash spreads over a wide range, and can be activated with a small jolt of chakra. You’ll trap your opponent between a rock and a hard place. What do they pick: burning, or the shadow bind?” 

“You’ve fought with a Nara before,” Shikamaru noted. “Used this as a combination attack.” 

Asuma hesitated. Just a moment, but enough for Shikamaru to notice it. “Yeah. A few missions with Shikaku, actually.” 

“Tell me,” the boy said immediately. 

“What was he like? Well-” 

“No. How he fights. I want to know his weaknesses.” 

Asuma sighed. “So you’re buying the village’s line, huh?” 

“What are you talking about?” Shikamaru said. It sounded childish even to his ears, but Asuma’s words had shaken him. Five years, and he’d never once wavered in his resolve. Now a highly respected jonin was challenging everything he'd been told. 

“Look, I don’t know anything. I wasn’t here at the time, and there’s nothing to contradict it in the official report. All I know is that my father’s inner circle was a bunch of slimy bas- er, filled with people I didn’t trust,” Asuma said. His hands darted into a pouch at his waist, produced a cigarette and lighter. The movements were nervous, almost involuntary. “Shikaku Nara was the last one I’d ever suspect of turning traitor.” 

“He fooled you. The same way he fooled everyone else.”

“Very possible,” Asuma admitted. “But I’ll give you some advice, free of charge. If it was me, I’d be absolutely certain before I go and do something I can’t take back.” 

He puffed briefly on the cigarette. When Shikamaru didn’t say anything, he eventually pulled it from his lips. “Well? Are you ready to try infusing your chakra with fire?” 

The fight with Temari (unexpected - it was supposed to be one of the Sound ninja, but the guy vanished without a trace) was a challenge, even to someone of Shikamaru’s abilities. For one thing, a long-range fighter was a poor match-up for him. And the new technique he spent a month perfecting was near-useless, because her wind attacks would simply blow the ash cloud away long before it became a threat. 

He got her in the end, though. Waiting patiently, using her own confidence against her, until he could trap her in a shadow. He walked her to the center of the arena. Reached towards her belt, where she had a bag of ninja tools but where he had an empty belt, having discarded his bag moments before he captured her. 

Temari pulled a kunai out, held it to her own neck, all under his direction. 

“Yield.” A statement, not a question. She was stubborn, but totally in his power. He could force her to cut her own throat, and the whole arena saw it.

If looks could kill… but she was helpless, and smart enough to know it. She glared and spat curses, but eventually surrendered. 

His victory was not greeted with cheers. More like a buzzing, a low and constant murmur - the stadium audience was unsure what to make of it. A Leaf ninja had won the round, but he’d reminded them of the terrifying power of the Nara techniques.

Reminded them what his father had been capable of. 

“Wow,” Ino said, when he joined his team in the stands. “I didn’t think you’d stand a chance! The way she took down Tenten…” 

She was still so self-absorbed. Hadn’t noticed all the ways he’d changed since they were kids. Hadn't realized he and Tenten weren't in the same league. Choji, though - he’d noticed, all right. He didn’t look happy at his friend’s victory. Just sad and a little scared. 

“Would you have done it? If she hadn’t surrendered?” he asked softly, once Ino grew bored and was back to chattering with Sakura. 

Shikamaru shrugged, glancing around the stadium. The crowd was starting to grow heated. They wanted to see the brother of the Fifth duel the Kazekage’s son, but Kakashi was being Kakashi about it. Doubtless they’d arrive in dramatic fashion at the last possible moment. 

“Probably,” he said eventually. “If she’d refused to surrender, what choice would I have had?” 

Choji’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, not killing her? Letting her go?” 

Shikamaru scoffed. “Letting an opponent bluff me into releasing them? I might as well quit the tournament right after, because I’d never make chunin.” 

His friend glared at him. Actually glared. A new expression, one Shikamaru was not used to seeing on his face. “Exactly. This is just an examination! Not some life-or-death situation. You didn’t have to be so… cold about it.” 

“Oh, so that’s your excuse for being weak today. What’ll it be tomorrow? That it’s just a D-rank? That we’re just genin?” Shikamaru had never spoken to Choji like this, leaving his contempt in his own thoughts, but something in him had broken, releasing his frustration in one torrent of words. “You might have the luxury of staying a stupid kid, Choji, but I don’t. I need to become stronger. Are you with me, or will you keep holding me back?”

Now the expression on Choji’s face was familiar. That wounded, sad look that he’d used to get when the bullies were laying into him, before Shikamaru came to intervene. He’d always sit there and take it, never fighting back. 

“Is that how you really feel?” Choji said softly. 

“No, I - listen, I didn’t mean-” 

But he’d never get to finish that sentence. They were interrupted - first, by Kakashi and Sasuke appearing in the center of the arena, starting the next fight; and then, a few minutes later, when most of the stadium fell into a genjutsu-induced sleep. 

An attack. The village was under attack. Shikamaru fought off the genjutsu and reached for a weapon. Behind him, Choji and Ino were asleep. Completely helpless.     

Leave them. Go after Gaara and take him out. Prove yourself-

No. He wouldn’t do that. He’d stay and protect them. It was the least he could do for them. His team. His friends. 

So Shikamaru stayed in the stadium and fought alongside Kakashi and the other Leaf jonin. Instead, Team Seven was dispatched to deal with Gaara. They’d win all the glory if they managed to take him down, but… it couldn’t be helped.

Besides. It wasn’t like holding his own against Sound jonin was something just any genin could do. The Leaf leadership would note this accomplishment in their evaluation of his performance - he was sure of it. 

Assuming the Hokage made it out of that barrier alive. 

“I heard something interesting,” Kisame said, in a tone that was so fake-casual that the hairs on Shikaku’s neck immediately stood up. 

They’d just finished a mission for Akatsuki. The body of the target was still warm. The Nara had been looking forward to sleeping at night, this time. A small-fry Hidden Village had contracted them to quietly handle a missing-nin defector. The woman had been a nasty piece of work, using civilians as human shields during their fight. 

“Oh yeah?” As casual and uninterested as he could force his voice to be. 

“Yeah. The Snake’s re-surfaced,” Kisame said. When he smiled, the way he was now, his face looked more unsettling, less human. Like a great shark flashing its teeth - which, of course, was the point. 

Shikaku shrugged. “That coward? He wouldn’t dare go after us.” 

“Not after us,” his partner said. His grin, if possible, was even wider. “But some of us left family behind, didn’t we?” 

The Nara scoffed. “If Oorochimaru believes I care what happens to anyone I left in the Hidden Leaf, he’s a bigger fool than I thought.” 

The worst part about his cover story was pretending to have carelessly discarded Yoshino. It probably said something about how fucked up he was that he could handle the assassinations, the kidnapping; the thing that really challenged his resolve was when Kisame wanted to stop off at some brothel or other, and Shikaku had to spend some empty night when all he really wanted was his wife... 

“Heard a rumor that he’s already made his move. Planted a curse mark on that whelp of yours. Aren’t those how he chooses the candidates for his next body? Guess he thinks that if he comes back to kill you wearing your son like a skin-suit, your resolve will waver.” 

Kisame barked a laugh, clapped Shikaku on the back. “Idiot. If he spent any time working with you, he’d know better. Cold bastard like you wouldn’t hesitate for a second, huh?” 

“You’ve got that right. Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

It was agony, torture, to walk casually back with Kisame. To act like his entire world hadn’t turned upside down at the news. Shikaku didn’t think Kisame was lying - that wasn’t his nature. His partner told the truth, albeit in ways that were designed to inflict as much pain as possible. It was another little test - either from Pain directly, or Kisame himself having some fun.

He had no choice. He had to keep putting his faith in Itachi. Hope that the village could do something about the curse mark, and keep Shikamaru safe. 

Chapter Text

The absolute defense of Susanoo held, even against the First and Second’s combined attacks. Itachi smiled brightly at Orochimaru, as if this technique was something he could use with ease. The reality: his vision was already beginning to waver. His chakra reserves were too small, his body too weak, to keep this up for long. 

It was a very good thing that he’d disrupted the Impure World Resurrection before the Fourth had joined the fray. Even he would have struggled against all three opponents at once. 

“You’ve made a grave error,” he said softly. “This barrier - it’s intended to keep us both trapped in here, and block all possible reinforcements, until you can finish me off, yes?”  

“If you wish to squander your last few moments of life stating the obvious, by all means,” Orochimaru hissed. But it was plain to see that he was rattled. Even he hadn’t known the full extent of the Sharingan’s techniques.  

Itachi smiled wider, shook his head slowly from side to side. “You miscalculated. I’ve made use of the barrier to keep you in here with me. And while you’ve wasted your time trying in vain to kill me, the Leaf has shrugged off your attempt to crush it.”

“You’re bluffing. Nothing can break this barrier!”

“Amaterasu.”  

Blood began to flow freely from his eye, but no matter now; the fight was over. The vicious black flames consumed the bodies of both former Kage before they could react. They would have engulfed Orochimaru, if the Snake Sannin had not been so quick to substitute his body for snakes and flee on pure instinct. They certainly chewed through the so-called impenetrable barrier. 

The four Sound ninja who’d been maintaining it took one look at him, still enveloped under Susanoo, and followed their master’s example, vanishing into thin air. 

Itachi sighed and released both techniques before the black flames could start consuming the village. He staggered and almost fell, but regained his balance. Four ANBU were at his side in under a second, closing rank around him.   

The fighting wasn’t over, but it would be soon enough now that he’d driven Orochimaru away. He could finally allow himself to relax. 

“Lord Hokage,” someone hissed into his ear. “We have terrible news.” 

Itachi didn’t let his crushing weariness show. If something had happened, they’d need him to be strong. “What is it?” 

“It’s… it’s about Lord Third…” 

“Take me there at once.” 

The battle was over, but the Leaf hadn’t escaped unscathed. And among the dozens of dead ninja was one he’d never expected to have fallen: Hiruzen Sarutobi. 

The autopsy was plain enough. A single wound, a short sword or long knife driven into his back and piercing his heart. If there was one small mercy, he hadn’t suffered; death had been near-instantaneous. 

It was all wrong. The ‘God of Shinobi’ was an old man now, but someone at his level wouldn’t allow an enemy ninja to sneak up on them. If he’d been engaged in pitch battle, maybe… but there weren’t any signs of that. 

Before ANBU, before becoming Hokage, Itachi had been a detective with the Police Force. He certainly knew when he was looking at a murder. 

There was one person who Hiruzen had always trusted too much. In Itachi’s opinion, that had finally cost the Third his life. 

Danzo waited until the day after the funeral to make his move, taking the floor during the next council meeting. For such a patient man, it was uncharacteristically rash - but then again, he had been backed into a corner for the last five years. He’d been frustrated, eager to snatch any chance to make Itachi look weak. 

“With all due respect to the Lord Fifth,” he said, in a tone that implied the opposite, “this has been an unmitigated disaster. We were attacked, our beloved Lord Third was slain, and the perpetrators either escaped unscathed - or we allowed them to walk away.” 

“If you’re still on about Gaara of the Sand, imprisoning or murdering an unstable child was hardly in our best interest,” Hiashi said. He was even blunter than usual, annoyed that Danzo was bringing up a settled matter. “The Sand becoming a grateful ally is.” 

“Perhaps. But it also makes us look weak. This was only the first attack - if we let matters stand, there will be others. If only Orochimaru had been killed…” 

Fugaku regarded Danzo balefully. “Merely surviving a fight against the First and Second is a miracle. I’d like to see what you’d have done if you’d been trapped in there alone-” 

“Peace,” Itachi said. His father fell silent at once. “Let us hear from Homura and Koharu.” 

Soliciting their opinion was always a risk. The pair of elders weren’t fully in Danzo’s camp, but they’d hardly been supportive of Itachi’s reforms, either. Even the Third had been too moderate for their liking. Itachi being forced to keep the two in his council had been the conservatives’ best hope to restrict his actions. He hadn’t let it stop him so far, but he’d had to handle them very carefully. 

“It is hardly fair to assign blame for Oorchimaru’s escape. We are quite fortunate that Lord Fifth survived the encounter,” Homaru said gravely. By unspoken signal, the pair seemed to trade off which one would be respectful and which one would subtly point out Itachi’s flaws. It seemed the old man had drawn that role today. 

“Nevertheless, Danzo makes a valid point,” Koharu said. “You allowed the Demon of the Sand to walk free. Your motives were admirable, but the world we live in sees weakness in that honor. It’s also known that we lost many ninja during the assault. Other villages may seek to test us. Try to expand their borders, steal our clients - seeing what they can get away with. We must be prepared to push back strongly against any such effort.” 

A more aggressive foreign policy was Danzo’s answer to everything. If the two elders were aligned with him on the matter, it would be difficult to prevent. Itachi pursed his lips, but quickly came to a decision.

“There is a great deal of wisdom in what you say. Very well. We will keep our eyes and ears in the other villages open - and ask Jariya to go and check on them. At the same time, we will divert some resources to help the Sand rebuild. The sooner they’re back on their feet, the sooner our alliance with them will act as a real deterrent.” 

Danzo protested at length, but the two elders were pleased to have been heard, and ultimately voted with the majority. The Leaf would allocate a few ninja and some funds to help the Sand, even as it rebuilt itself. 

Another exhausting political battle, another hard-won victory. Itachi’s body was threatening to give out under the strain. When he was finally alone, he let the coughing fit take him. His handkerchief came away bloody. 

He wondered just how much longer he’d last. 

For as much as he played the part of a fool, Jariya was a difficult man to deceive. He half-listened to Itachi’s orders that he go out and check on the Leaf’s vast spy network, the one he’d almost single-handedly built under his guise of the wandering, perverted author. (The guise worked particularly well because it was more or less the exact truth). 

“And how long have you been dying?” he asked, interrupting his Hokage in the middle of a sentence.

Itachi, speechless for once, merely blinked at him.

Jariya tapped the bridge of his nose, smirked. “The handkerchiefs. You have to throw them away somewhere. It’s amazing what you can learn about a man from something like the contents of his garbage.” 

“It’s none of your concern,” Itachi said stiffly. 

“On the contrary. Anything happens to you, they’ll try to make me Hokage. And I’d have to take it, too, to avoid that prick Danzo getting it. None of us want that, now, do we?” 

“Your selflessness is admirable. But I suggest you prepare yourself for the eventuality. Five years, maybe ten-” 

“Says who? The hacks in the hospital?” Jariya rolled his eyes. “There’s no medic-nin worth a damn since Tsunade left, and you know it.” 

“Be that as it may-” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll go and get her. But only ‘cause you twisted my arm. Hey, let me take that Naruto kid with me - he might learn a thing or two.” 

And before Itachi could even formulate a response to that, Jariya was gone. 

What a baffling conversation. 

The old Sannin was true to his word. Tsunade had left the village years ago, vowed never to return, but somehow, he’d convinced her. Jariya’s report was sketchy on the details, but apparently Naruto had played a significant role. 

Itachi examined the relevant files, was struck by the resemblance between Naruto and Tsuande’s deceased brother, and decided he’d never underestimate Jariya again. The man could be quite cruel when he wanted to be. 

Tsunade’s bedside manner could best be described as “nonexistent.” After shouting herself hoarse at Itachi for being an idiot and suffering in silence, she prescribed a range of medicines and breathing exercises. If he didn’t show improvement, she’d try something else. It was clear that the Fifth Hokage had no choice but to submit to the treatment regimens. 

And for the first time in many years, Itachi allowed himself to consider the possibility that there might be something to be done about the disease. 

His eyes were another matter. Loss of sight from overuse of the most powerful techniques, that was inevitable. Even Tsunade would have no miracle cure for it. There was only one way around it - but it was so completely unacceptable that it might as well not exist, and he put it out of his mind.

He’d defend the village to the full extent of his abilities, until it burned him out and he died young on the battlefield. That was what it meant to be Hokage. 

For once, Itachi was looking forward to one of his appointments. He was not due to wrestle with the council or mediate some internal village dispute. No - it was the undeniably pleasant task of informing young ninja that their careers were off to a promising start. 

Only two of the genin who’d competed in the tournament stood before his desk. All of those who’d made it to the second round of the tournament (or had real battle take the place of their matches, like Shino Aburame) displayed impressive strength in battle, but that alone wasn’t enough. The evaluation committee had also been looking for those smart and skilled enough to fight the right way. 

“Sasuke Uchiha,” he said, with great formality. “Shikamaru Nara.”

Familiar as he was with his little brother’s moods, he recognized this one. Sasuke was doing his best to be grave and formal, but failing utterly. He was simply too enthusiastic about this promotion. The honest emotion of the child Itachi would always see him as, and go to whatever length necessary to protect. 

As for Shikamaru… Itachi had seen him privately that one time, and immediately noted the detached arrogance that would go on to trouble the boy’s teachers. He didn’t seem detached now. Nor did he seem particularly happy despite the occasion. His expression flitted between upset and confused.

“Sasuke, your match against Gaara was interrupted. But Kakashi and Gai spoke highly of your composure during the attack. You took command of your team and as a team, you three managed to track down and subdue a Tailed Beast. Being chunin is not just about combat prowess; it calls for leadership and responsibility - both of which you displayed in a life and death situation.” 

Sasuke lost the battle with his composure. A wide grin split his face. He said nothing, but Itachi would treasure the memory of that too-rare smile. 

“Shikamaru, you would have earned this promotion from your match with Temari alone. Of all the genin, only you manipulated the field of battle in a manner befitting a chunin. The jonin were also impressed at the way you shrugged off the genjutsu and fought alongside them. They were unanimously in favor of you becoming a chunin.” 

Shikamaru bit his lip and, for whatever reason, protested. “But, Lord Hokage... I saw the enemy escaping and I chose not to pursue.” 

“Your place was with your team,” Itachi said gently. “If anything, that counts in your favor. Chunin must be prepared to carry out only a small part of a wider mission, trusting their peers and comrades to do the same.”

Shikamaru still didn’t look very happy, even though most kids his age would kill to put on the jacket Itachi was giving him. Then again, he wasn’t like most kids his age.

“Hey,” Sasuke said, once they were both newly dressed. “Asuma-sensei said he’d put a party together tonight. You and your team should come! I mean, I doubt your sensei has one planned...” 

A moment of silence. Then Shikamaru shrugged. “Okay. Thanks.” 

Itachi watched them leave. A mountain of paperwork awaited his signature, but he did not pick up a scroll. He thought about the Nara, and the jonins’ reports that he’d stayed behind to protect his unconscious team instead of tearing off in pursuit of Gaara. The kid who’d once begged to join ANBU because his team would only hold him back would never have done that. 

He wouldn’t have agreed to go to something like a chunin promotion party, either. Indeed - and Itachi knew it as a fact from the ANBU reports - this was the first night in a long time that Shikamaru wasn’t training by himself. 

It seemed his plan was finally paying off. 

Sitting in a ramshackle inn, located in an even more run-down village. Pretending to eat and drink while waiting for the contact from the other side. Kabuto was used to this sort of work. He could sit for hours with unnatural patience.

Which was good, because the other guy was running late. 

He arrived at least three hours past the agreed-upon time. Kabuto didn’t recognize this one, but they were all the same. One of the handful of agents Danzo had managed to salvage from the on-paper destruction of Root. 

This one was young, genin age, like all the others. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and black clothing, which would have been standard if not for the small personal touch of an exposed midriff. A bizarre choice. Well, there was no accounting for taste. 

“To your employer’s health,” the kid said. Out with the code-phrase the moment he sat down. No greeting, no small talk. That was interesting. Most of the other agents observed the social niceties, if only as part of the cover. 

“There was an accident in the shop, but sensei should recover in full,” Kabuto said. Oorchimaru will survive his injuries.  “I assume, given your tardiness, that your employer is down on his luck.” 

“Unfortunately, his latest business venture was not successful,” the kid said. 

AKA, Itachi Uchiha had shrugged off Danzo’s latest attempt at a power-grab. Kabuto had respected Danzo once, admired his patience, but ever since the unexpected elevation of the Fifth, the old man had been off his game. Assassinating the Third was the desperate act of an unhinged man. Not to mention mixing business with his personal vendetta against old Hiruzen. And he still had nothing to show for it. 

“My condolences.” 

The kid stared at Kabuto, unblinking. In fact, he hadn’t blinked once during this entire conversation. It was actually kind of unnerving. 

“My employer has a suggestion.” The kid produced a scroll and slid it across the table. “He knows your sensei has already scouted this individual. But he believes your sensei should act quickly. The situation has changed. There is a competing offer from a rival firm.”

“We’re grateful, as always, for his wise counsel. Let me buy you-” 

The kid stood up and walked out, as if Kabuto wasn’t in the middle of a sentence. Scroll delivered, mission complete, no need for anything more. Admirably efficient, but not normal. Kabuto idly wondered what hell Danzo had put this particular agent through. Not that it was any of his business.

They’d read over the scroll when Kabuto returned to the hideout, but he could guess at its contents. Oorchimaru didn’t go around putting the Cursed Seal of Heaven on just anyone. Even Kabuto hadn’t been worthy of it. 

If Danzo was right, and Shikamaru Nara wasn’t going to defect on his own anytime soon, they’d have to find some way to encourage him.

Orochimaru was, after all, on a tight schedule.  

Chapter Text

Shikamaru’s decision to protect Ino and Choji instead of pursuing Gaara had been sound. Everyone told him he’d done the right thing. His mother, Kakashi-sensei, hell, the freaking Hokage - not one word of criticism. 

So why was it still eating him up inside? 

He’d passed up his chance to confront the One-Tails, that was why. Pursue and capture something like that, and maybe he’d have made tangible progress towards his real goal: tracking down and killing the former Jonin Commander. 

His measuring sticks were few and far between. It wasn’t like any of the jonin would seriously duel him. Kakashi was never close to going all-out, and he still put Shikamaru in his place each and every time.

What was the alternative? Confront the traitor alongside the rest of his team? 

Kakashi wouldn’t hear of it. Would point out, correctly, that Choji and Ino were nowhere close to being ready for that. Against someone with the Nara clan techniques, they’d literally be liabilities, ensnared and used as human shields. 

And Kakashi and the Hokage and all the others would never agree to send a jonin strike team out with him. Not in a million years. Ino-Shika-Cho was the only team he was going to get - it was them, or nothing. 

The essential paradox.

Ino, incredibly, still hadn’t noticed his frustration and anger with his own team. But Choji hadn’t been fooled for long. If he ever had been fooled. They hadn’t talked about his outburst during the chunin exams. He knew he’d have to face up to Choji at some point, but preferred to avoid that as long as possible.

Just like he was now.

He walked through the village gates and out into the surrounding forest. Ostensibly to practice and refine his techniques. But also for a moment’s peace. 

The guards noticed him coming and going, seemed to think nothing of it. It wasn’t like he was skipping out on team practices. In the aftermath of the attack, and given the casualties, all of the jonin were working overtime just to handle the existing mission load. A guy like Shikamaru, newly promoted, was expected to train on his own time. 

Right now, he was working on lifting his shadows off the ground. It was as simple as it sounded - in theory. Just another application of the technique. But it required a level of chakra control that was beyond most newly minted chunin. 

Shikamaru, though? He was a cut above. He’d master it soon enough. 

He sensed the intruder before he heard or saw them. It was curious - the unfamiliar chakra set off all of his warning instincts, but the intruder was making no effort to conceal it. Were they that arrogant, confident they could handle the Leaf’s response? Or were they smart enough to have slipped past all of the patrols? 

Shikamaru’s shadow snaked out - made contact. He expected a struggle, but felt none. More curious than frightened, he walked forward, forcing the intruder to match his strides. Reached up, had them remove their mask. 

“Long time no see,” Kabuto drawled. 

No doubt about it. Villages paid extra attention to their own defectors, after all. Shikamaru had studied the intel reports. Could quote the price on the guy’s head from memory. 

And yet, the chakra. Not at all the same as what it had felt like drawing the chunin exams. This power was jonin-level, not some failed genin’s meager reserves. Just how long had Kabuto been playing the weak fool? 

And why? 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I came to see you,” Kabuto said. The tone of his voice managed to convey the smirk his facial muscles could not. “My master’s business with you is not yet finished, young Nara.” 

Despite the seal, he felt the pain as the curse mark flared into life. Was it psychosomatic, all in his own mind? Or did the mere mention of Oorochimaru activate something even Kakashi had missed? Shikamaru had no way of knowing. The exact nature of the Snake Sannin’s curse techniques eluded them all. 

Kabuto clicked his tongue. Spoke as if he’d read Shikamaru’s mind. “You’ll never be strong enough with that seal in place.” 

“Strong enough for what ? I could drag you back to the village right now if I wanted.” 

“Perhaps,” Kabuto said. “But you’d close the path to your revenge - forever. Those old men in the Leaf will never draw out your full potential. They’re too afraid of what you might become. And, of course… what you might do once you learn the truth.” 

Rule one - or maybe rule zero - of dealing with a captured enemy ninja: don’t let them talk. And it wasn’t just a matter of auditory genjutsu. They’d use their intel to prey on your weaknesses, stall you until, say, the chakra of your Shadow Bind ran out and they could turn the tables. 

But, on the other hand… Asuma Sarutobi’s own words. “So you’re buying the village’s line, huh?”

“Talk. Quickly.” 

Kabuto asserted himself enough to lick dry lips. Pushed the glasses up his nose. In truth, Shikamaru had already blown his opportunity to quickly disable or kill the other ninja. If Kabuto wanted to, he could probably break free on his own - but he didn’t. He was content to leave himself in Shikamaru’s power. Maybe he’d realized it was the only way the Nara would listen to him. 

“They’re lying to you,” he said, so quietly that Shikamaru had to focus some chakra in his ears to hear it. “Shikaku Nara was framed. I know this for a fact. We can prove to you that Danzo Shimura was the true master of Root. And it was he who was truly responsible for the plot to massacre the Uchiha.” 

Shikamaru said nothing. Wrestled with the new idea. He had no reason to believe the words of this spy, this traitor, and yet… he couldn’t sense any deception in them. 

“The Uchiha found out, and saw their opportunity. They could pin the blame on the Nara clan instead. Rock the village to its core, shake it up so badly that one of their own would finally become the Hokage. Itachi out-maneuvered Danzo, averting a civil war. And all he had to do was cast your father out, spit on his name, rob the Nara clan of its honor…” Kabuto smirked. “A small price to pay.” 

If this was true... if … Even Shikamaru’s agile mind reeled at the implications. It would mean his enemy was not his father after all. Instead, he was up against an entire village. The most powerful clan in that village. The Hokage. And Danzo Shimura, whose powers and abilities were a total unknown.

Kabuto was Oorchimaru’s mouthpiece. The Snake Sannin wasn’t offering this for free. He wanted something - to turn Shikamaru against the village, clearly. Was it as simple as that? Recruiting defectors for another attack? 

One way or another, he needed more information.

“Your master. He’d help me secure my revenge?” 

“Of course. You’ve only scratched the surface of the power that cursed seal can give you. He’ll help you draw it out to its fullest extent. Give you strength that even a Kage would struggle to match.”

“Out of the goodness of his heart?” 

Kabuto smirked. “Because of the oldest truth in the ninja world, Nara. The only truth. The enemy of my enemy is my ally - for the moment. If I were you, I’d take advantage of that while I can.”  

The shadow bind was starting to weaken in earnest now. Still, Shikamaru didn’t release the technique. “Say I don’t immediately report this all to the Leaf. Say I’m interested. What happens next?” 

“Come back to this spot, a week from today. Your escort to the Sound will be waiting. But they won’t wait for very long. I’d advise you to be on time.” 

For all Kabuto knew, they’d walk right into a team of Leaf jonin. Be captured and interrogated. Was Orochimaru truly willing to risk a squad of his own ninja on the off chance that Shikamaru took his offer? That didn’t make sense. 

Unless… the seal wasn’t just a gift of power. That had never made a whole lot of sense to begin with. Power always came at a price. 

What if bearing the mark gave him something else - some attribute or quality that the old Snake wanted at his side? Could he control the thoughts and actions of those he’d marked? Something else - something worse?  

“I’ll think about it,” Shikamaru said, finally releasing the shadow. “Get out of my sight.” 

Kabuto, it seemed, had no pride to wound. He shrugged, rolled his shoulders - vanished in a swirl of leaves. 

Left Shikamaru alone, save for the thoughts racing through his mind. 

People thought Choji was dumb, because of the way he looked and the way he’d act. Shikamaru knew that wasn’t the case. Knew there were different types of intelligence. Choji might have gotten mediocre grades in the Academy, but he was a difficult guy to fool, wise beyond his years when it came to his friends and the other members of his team.

Which made him the main threat to Shikamaru’s plan. Ino wasn’t going to notice if he acted strangely, and Kakashi was too busy, but Choji? He’d sniff right through the bullshit. 

And plan he did. His decision was made almost the moment Kabuto departed. Staying in the village would mean remaining in ignorance. Sure, he could confront the Hokage or try to steal handfuls of documents from the archives, but it would be nibbling at the edges.

Orochimaru offered him the truth. With many strings attached, naturally, and not all of them immediately apparent. But still, it was a risk Shikamaru needed to take. 

His last week in the village passed in a blur. He barely slept, because the moments of privacy in his room at night were devoted to planning his escape route - and packing everything he could possibly need, from food supplies to ninja tools. 

Then it was time. Shikamaru slipped out in the dead of night. Hesitated, debating leaving a message for his mother, but decided against it. (And wondered - had his father also left without a world? Was history repeating itself?) 

He picked his way carefully through the shadows. Had almost reached the village gate when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

No, Choji wasn’t dumb. And he’d been concealing his chakra well enough that Shikamaru, preoccupied as he was, hadn’t even noticed his approach. 

“Choji…” 

He sought for a lie, but nothing came. It had never been his habit, anyway. Looking into that kind, honest face and offering it anything but the truth made him feel like a real bastard. It always had, even when they were little kids. 

“I figured this would happen eventually,” Choji offered, by way of explanation. All it would take to summon the gate guards was a shout, or even an aggressive flare chakra with killing intent, but Choji did neither. Just folded his arms across his broad chest and stared at Shikamaru.

Shikamaru stared back. Said nothing. 

“You’re leaving the village.” It wasn't a question. “You want to get stronger. You think we’re all holding you back. No - you think I’m holding you back.” 

“Don’t make me say it, Choji. Just let me go.” 

Choji’s left hand balled into a fist. The other seized Shikamaru by the shoulder and shook him violently. The Nara didn’t resist, just let his body bend under the pressure. Choji didn’t even look angry - worse: his eyes brimmed with unshed tears. 

“Why, Shikamaru? Why are you so obsessed with getting stronger right now ? Why can’t you wait for me to be there at your side?” 

“That’s not how it works, Choji. The guy… no, the people I’m up against aren’t just standing still. And they’ve gotten away with it for five years already.”

“Ino and I-”

“Ino would never defect, and you’d regret it within the week. I’m not making you into a missing-nin, too. Just let me go, Choji.”

The conflict on his friend’s face was plainly visible. Gentle Choji, always reluctant to cause pain, even in something like a training exercise. Now? He knew what he needed to do, but it wasn’t practice. It was for real. 

“I’ll stop you.” 

Shikamaru sighed. “Don’t, Choji.” 

“I’ll beat you unconscious and drag you back to the Hokage if I have to. That’s my duty as a Leaf ninja,” Choji growled. 

“I’m warning you-” 

Shikamaru saw the punch coming a mile away, ducked under the flailing fist. Forced the cursed seal to open, pushing through the makeshift barrier - which had, after all, depended on his own desire to hold the foreign chakra back - and threw his own fist into Choji’s face. 

The sudden chakra flare would no doubt alert the gate guards, but… with all that power running through him? It was no longer a contest.

The following morning, the gate guards switched rotations and found Choji, still unconscious, laid up next to the two chunin they’d been sent to relieve. All three had been disabled via taijutsu alone, but their attacker hadn’t taken any great pleasure in it, using brutally efficient blows designed to knock them out as quickly as possible. 

An investigation team was called in, and their sensor quickly put two and two together. The cursed seal’s chakra lingered over the scene, heavy and alien and wrong. The sensor tracked it for a while, stumbled across the badly wounded Genma and his unconcious team. The four Sound ninja who'd come to pick Shikamaru up had been capable of taking down an elite jonin - but it had slowed them down, opened a chance for a pursuit team to catch up. 

Itachi received the report in his office and read it twice, lips set in a grim line. It was the worst possible time for something like this to happen, with so many jonin out of the village. If he’d had some hint… but he’d been caught completely off-guard. Like Kakashi, he’d interpreted Shikamaru’s actions in the stadium and his subsequent promotion as good signs - indicators that a change was starting. 

They’d both been wrong. And Kakashi, like most of the jonin and adult chunin, wasn’t here to do anything about it. 

There was no other choice. He had to discard his feelings as Itachi and summon those of the Hokage, who would utilize the best option remaining to him. 

“Get me Sasuke Uchiha. Immediately.” 

“Scroll for you,” Kisame said, depositing the item in Shikaku’s lap. 

The Nara blinked at it - it wasn’t like people were lining up to send messages to one of the most feared assassins and missing-nins in all of the nations. His first thought was a job offer, but the kind of people who knew enough to hire his services also knew to contact the Akatsuki instead of trying for him directly. 

“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” his partner assured him, mistaking the reason for his hesitance.

Shikaku shrugged and - after scanning it himself, because he trusted Kisame a good deal less far than he could throw him - opened the scroll.

A brief message - a single paragraph. Most of which was devoted to taunting and threats. Shikaku automatically discarded these, reading and re-reading the first sentence: Your son has come over to my side. 

“What is it?” Kisame asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity. Wordlessly, Shikaku passed him the scroll. 

There was no point trying to conceal it - nor was there anything he could do. By the time he ferreted out the new location of the Sound village, it would be too late - one way or another. And even making the attempt would blow his cover. 

“Guess I was right,” Kisame said, clicking his tongue against his shark-teeth. “He’s so predictable. Pretty stupid of your kid, though. Whatever Orochimaru promised him, he’s clearly just after his body.” 

Shikaku shook his head, tried his damndest to look nonchalant. “The boy’s got to be aware of that. He’s working an angle of some sort. He has my intelligence, after all.” 

“You hope so, huh? What if you’re wrong?” 

“Then I’ll wait for the Snake to come after me, wearing the kid’s body - and destroy it.” Face impassive. Like he was talking about any other mission. 

It was what Kisame wanted to hear. He barked a laugh, clapped his partner on the shoulder. “Yeah you will. Either way, this is gonna be interesting, huh?”  

Damnit, Itachi. How did you let this happen? Shikaku knew Shikamaru could handle himself to some extent, but he never should’ve been allowed to defect like this. Never should’ve gotten the mark in the first place, for that matter.

If anything happened to Shikamaru on Itachi’s watch… Shikaku considered the idea, and found an unexpectedly deep well of rage inside him. He’d served the Leaf for his entire life, but if the village let his son die... well.

Itachi would quickly learn how terrifying Shikaku could be when he was actually an enemy.

Chapter Text

“Based on Genma’s intelligence, we are fairly certain these are the same four Sound ninja responsible for the barrier. We are unaware of what other combination attacks they may be capable of, but they were strong enough to take out Genma’s entire team. When you catch up to them, fight them separately if at all possible.”

Itachi lowered the scroll, met his brother’s gaze. Their intel was painfully lacking - always an additional risk to the mission. These young genin would have to confront strong opponents with little knowledge of their abilities. Worst of all, the Sound ninja would be well aware of the genins’ capabilities, given the very public tournament battles of the chunin exams. 

Sasuke stood stock-still and silent, hands folded behind his back. Admirable poise for a twelve-year-old who’d been woken hours before dawn. But Itachi couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching a boy play-acting at being a man.

Was that how people had felt about him, when he’d been a mere child in ANBU? 

Itachi longed to throw caution to the winds, leave the village, go to secure Shikamaru personally. Spare his little brother the harsh reality of leading his first deadly mission, at least a little while longer. But it was impossible. For all they knew, this entire exercise could be a ploy by the Snake Sannin to draw the Leaf’s Hokage out of the village, leaving it vulnerable for a Sound attack that would finish what they’d started. 

“Any Leaf ninja falling into Oorchimaru’s hands would be a security risk for the village.” He didn’t mention the additional complications of it being Shikamaru Nara in particular - the fact that it would make his critical spy within the Akatsuki unhappy, at best. “But losing the main heirs to several important clans would be even worse. Use your best judgment. If the situation is untenable, retreat.

“I’ve put out recall orders to several of the top jonin, and sent a message to the Sand requesting backup, but we can’t count on any of them arriving in time. You should assume that the eight genin, including yourself, will be your only resources on this mission. I suggest fighting each of the enemy ninja in pairs, but as the field leader, the final decision is yours.

“Please commence the mission.” 

Sasuke nodded once, turned on his heel, and was gone.

Itachi stared at the closed door of his office for a long time. He’d done his best not to let his unease show in his face during the mission briefing, but he didn’t like this situation at all. He hoped fervently that the Sand was recovered enough to be capable of honoring the backup request. 

Only Sasuke’s own team was fully intact, given that Shino and Tenten were out of the village on missions and Lee was still in the hospital. Still, Itachi figured that it was worthwhile to send Neji alone. The Hyuuga had chunin-level combat capabilities. The main reason he hadn’t made it through the first round of examinations by failing to use his head in the battle against Naruto.

As for the other genin, what was left of Kakashi and Kurenai’s teams… well, at least they’d be familiar with working in pairs. 

Hopefully it’d be enough to keep them alive. 

Shikamaru had known that gaining the second level of the cursed seal wouldn’t be easy or pleasant. He’d come prepared to deal with physical and mental anguish, as long as the payoff was the power he needed. 

What he hadn’t expected: needing to ingest a poison that would kill him in a couple minutes. Place his life completely and utterly in the hands of four ninja he’d never met, who worked for the number-one enemy of the Leaf Village. 

His bold and cunning plan - to go directly to Orochimaru and work the legendary missing-nin for information - felt different now. Childish and foolish was more like it. But he was backed into a corner now, if only by his own pride. Even if he could escape from the four Sound ninja, he could not bear to go crawling back into the village. 

Wordlessly, he drank the poison and climbed into the coffin. 

It was like falling asleep - and awakening into a nightmare. In his near-death dream state, he was back in a child’s body. Reliving a memory: the last time he’d spoken with the traitor. A day like any other, no hint of stress or tension in the older man’s face. They trained in the fundamentals of chakra manipulation, just like they always did, and then he went to work, just like he always did. 

Except this time, he didn’t. The traitor stopped and turned back, his usually gentle expression replaced with a sharp anger.

“You think you’re so smart, but you’re just a little kid throwing a tantrum,” Shikaku hissed. It was not the voice he remembered - it was like that of a snake pretending to be a man. “Use that thick head of yours. Was I acting like a man who plotted to tear the village apart?” 

The vision of his father had a point. (Of course it did - it was his own subconscious). Shikamaru had buried every pleasant memory, failed to stop and think about what did and didn’t line up with the official story. He pushed back against the village’s unfair hatred and contempt - but he’d accepted the same bullshit story that they had.

“Some genius,” Shikaku scoffed. 

He’d allowed himself to be played, dancing like a puppet on its chakra strings, for five years. His age was no excuse. He was smarter and more capable than ninja twice his age - always had been. 

“But who was holding the strings?” No longer his father, but the Fifth Hokage, fixing Shikamaru with those familiar, tired eyes. “Do you hate me, now? Of course you do. But are you sure you can trust what Kabuto said?” 

No. Of course he couldn’t. Everyone had their own agenda. Everyone thought they could use him, like he was any other dumb twelve-year-old fresh chunin. 

“Are you really better than that? From where I’m standing, you’re being led around by the nose.” 

Anger coiled up in the pit of his stomach. Spread outwards into the rest of his body, warming it like a slow flame. He was doing this for power. A means to an end. As soon as he had enough, he’d show them - all of them. Everyone who thought they could manipulate him.

And everyone who’d discriminated against a kid for something he’d had nothing to do with, for that matter. The Leaf Village should pay. Would pay- 

That’s not why you’re doing this. An intrusive thought, from very far away, as if it belonged to someone else. Only those responsible should- 

As quickly as he grasped it, the thought was gone. Wiped away by the boiling rage, by Orochimaru laughing in his ear.  

Most squads were three to four-person cells for a reason. Commanding eight ninja at once was difficult even for the most advanced tacticians. But Sasuke had quickly grasped the lesson every good leader knew instinctively: delegation. He had overall command of the team, but Neji, the oldest and most experienced, would be his lieutenant, with full authority to issue orders if Sasuke could not be reached. 

Naruto was impressed. Choji knew that because Naruto kept complaining about his rival being so good about this, and how he, Naruto, would be twice as good of a leader once he was given his chance (believe it!) 

Choji was in no mood for Naruto that day. But the two of them were the heaviest hitters on the team, and as such Sasuke had put them together in the center of the line. Ready to react the moment Neji or Hinata saw something, or Kiba smelled something. 

He and Ino had been particularly quiet during the briefing. Neither pushing back, nor declaring how ready they were for a good fight. They’d looked at each other, once. Saw the pain and misery mirrored in the other’s expression, and quickly looked away. 

For most of the genin, this was exciting. Their first major mission without the supervision of their jonin-sensei. For the remnants of Team Kakashi? Not so much.

“Hey,” Naruto said, interrupting Choji’s thoughts. They weren’t supposed to be talking without something important to say, but try telling that to Naruto. “Don’t look so down, man! We’ll definitely rescue Shikamaru from those Sound creeps.” 

Choji looked at him, incredulous. Admittedly, Sasuke hadn’t told them more than they needed to know during the briefing, but surely… “Naruto. What do you think happened here?” 

“Uh, Shikamaru got kidnapped, obviously. He’s too smart and too loyal to go to Orochimaru voluntarily,” Naruto said, like it was the most obvious fact in the world. 

The words stabbed Choji’s heart like a shard of ice.

“Naruto… I was there. You should be prepared to fight him, because he isn’t coming back unless we make him.” 

“Seriously? I know he attacked you - but I mean, there’s genjutsu-” 

“I’m teammates with Ino, Naruto. I know when someone’s fighting in their right mind and when they’re being manipulated,” Choji said. Unusual anger in his voice, because Naruto’s blind optimism was usually charming or cute, but seemed dangerous and foolish right now. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” 

“Y-Yeah, ‘course I am!” But after that last boast, Naruto fell silent - uncharacteristically, and mercifully. 

Choji wasn’t stupid. He knew what he’d seen that night. Shikamaru had been reluctant to hurt his friend - but when it came to breaking the team apart, leaving the village, he’d barely hesitated. He was bound and determined to run after power, even if it meant going straight to the Snake Sannin. 

“You might have the luxury of staying a stupid kid, Choji, but I don’t. I need to become stronger. Are you with me, or will you keep holding me back?”

If Choji had been stronger, a good enough ninja… none of this would be happening. The others would say it wasn’t fair to blame himself, but they didn’t know Shikamaru like he did. The only thing the Nara valued more than his friends and his team was his clan’s lost honor. If Shikamaru could have secured his revenge with Choji and Ino at his side, he would have. 

But Choji’s weakness had left him with no other choice. Or so he thought. 

Choji was used to being counted out and underestimated. Almost everyone in the village had, except for Shikamaru. Now even his best friend had those blinders on. 

I’ll show you, Shikamaru. Even if it means I gotta beat you down and drag you back to the village all by myself. 

Then Neji sent back the signal that he’d spotted the Sound ninja - and the mission commenced in earnest.

Coming out of the induced coma felt little different than waking from a particularly deep sleep, with one major change: the second level of the seal was active. Shikamaru felt that right off, because he’d never felt so much power coursing through him. 

It wasn’t without its drawbacks. He could feel Oorchimaru’s influence pulling at his mind - it had always been there, since the moment he’d been marked, but it was usually easy to ignore and push aside. When he’d used the first level of the seal, the presence became something like a persistent whisper in his ear. 

At the second level? It was almost like a struggle for dominance in his own head. 

Shikamaru released the seal almost at once. He’d use that power when he had to - but not yet. Then he climbed out of the coffin and looked around.

His escort was gone - all four of them. In their place, yet another Sound ninja, one he’d never seen before. Shikamaru quickly realized this latest man had a different seal than the other four. Much more powerful and hungry, more akin to his own.

The Sound ninja held some sort of short sword made of bone - no, on closer inspection, it was a literal bone. Some bizarre bloodline technique of the ninja’s clan, no doubt. He faced off against Choji and Ino. 

Given their presence, and the fact that his original escort was nowhere to be seen, Shikamaru figured the Leaf had sent a retrieval team. They’d caught up quickly, too. 

“I could handle these two by myself,” he suggested to the bone ninja. He wasn’t sure why that was his first instinct. Because he wanted to talk to his old team one last time? Because he wanted to disable them without killing them? To test his new abilities? All of the above? 

“No doubt. But your role is to go to my master as quickly as possible. Mine, to clear the way.” The ninja’s tone brooked no argument. Neither did the look in his eyes. A fervent, true believer. Obviously strong, too. Why hadn’t he been with the initial four? 

Presumably, Oorchimaru had sent backup when he grew impatient. But why did he need Shikamaru so quickly ? One would think getting safely away from the Leaf and not leaving a trail were the two most important priorities. Instead, the Snake Sannin was throwing assets away on a blatant, almost desperate, effort. 

It’s probably for the best if I don’t make haste to the Sound… give myself time to prepare for whatever he’s planning. 

The bone ninja was watching him with sharp eyes. Shikamaru lifted one hand in a salute, turned his back on Choji and Ino, and leapt away. 

When he reached the Valley of the End, he stopped. It was the outer edge of Leaf territory, and for all he knew, Oorchimaru had another team waiting once he crossed the border.

Instead, Shikamaru amused himself by skipping stones over the water and counting how many times he could make them jump. Waited to see who would eventually catch up to him. 

To his surprise, it only took a few minutes to sense the familiar presence. Then Choji barreled out of the tree-line, head down, running hard. He hadn’t been expecting Shikamaru to just be sitting there. A comical look of surprise spread over his face and he stopped so suddenly that he almost fell.

“Yo,” Shikamaru said, lifting one hand in a lazy wave. 

An uncharacteristic scowl spread over Choji’s face, like the slow stretch of a shadow bind. “You’re just sitting here. While your new comrades fight us to the death. I knew you were low, but-” 

“My comrades? Choji, I thought I made this clear. I don’t give a shit about the Sound. I just want to use Orochimaru, take anything he can give me. After that-” A shrug. “He can burn, for all I care.” 

“That’s worse. You see how that’s worse, right? A dozen ninja on both sides are giving it their all for your sake, and you don’t even care!”

“That’s not true. All things being equal, now that I’ve reached my goal, I’d prefer the Leaf to win. Speaking of, you didn’t leave Ino alone with bone guy, did you? The look on his face, and the way his chakra felt… I wouldn’t like her odds.” 

“No, Lee showed up… Lady Tsunade is going to kill him, he’s supposed to be on bed rest... Could still fight well enough to open a way for me, though.” 

“Against orders, huh? How many did the Hokage send on the actual mission?” 

Choji kept glaring, but he answered the question. “Eight. Sasuke in command, Neji as lieutenant. The plan was to fight in pairs, but we hit a snag almost immediately. One of the Sound ninja caught Naruto - he had shadow clones pretending to be the whole retrieval team - in some sort of earth barrier. We had to keep going, or the deception would count for nothing… Then, Neji was the only one who could cut through the webs of that spider guy. He insisted he could handle the fight alone.” 

“Well, if anyone can…” 

“Then, Sasuke and Sakura confronted that flute-user, and Kiba and Hinata forced the last one into a fight. Leaving me and Ino to retrieve… the coffin.” Choji licked his lips. “Were you actually dead, Shikamaru? When I saw it, there was a moment… when I thought you might be too late.” 

“Near enough as to make no difference. I guess that’s what it takes to awaken the second level of a cursed seal.” 

Choji shook his head. “You say you don’t trust them. But you put yourself completely into their power?” 

Shikamaru shrugged. “Once you understand people’s motivations, you can safely use them. Orochimaru wants something from me. Presumably, something that can only happen when I have that stronger curse. I may not like what happens when I do show up in the Sound, but until I did - I knew he’d want me alive.” 

He’d never seen the answering look on Choji’s face. Pure disgust, and a slow, building rage. “Is that how you think about everyone - as pieces on your shogi board? Even Ino and me?” 

“I don’t have the energy to lie to everyone’s face all the time. You’re actually my friend, Choji. Always were. And that’s why I would really prefer if you let me go. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I can’t do that. My mission is to retrieve you - at any cost.” 

Shikamaru sighed, slumped in resignation. “Guess we’re doing this, then.” 

He worked the hand seal for the Shadow Bind before he’d straightened up. The old Choji would’ve been caught before he had time to react. But this new, determined Choji didn’t stand still. He closed the gap and punched Shikamaru hard, right in the face. 

After that, the fight devolved into an exchange of blows. Choji was well aware of Shikamaru’s preference to fight at mid-range, manipulating the battlefield to his advantage - and stubbornly refused to let it happen. Soon, he’d forced Shikamaru to use enough energy to draw on the cursed seal’s chakra instead.

Choji grinned, and pulled something out of his bag. Shikamaru recognized it at once. His clan’s colored pills. Each one would give him a temporary power boost. Maybe even enough to keep up with the curse. But if he ate the third… 

On and on they fought. Shikamaru employed a couple of fire techniques, but Choji literally barreled through them, unharmed. Choji made this or that limb temporarily giant-sized, but Shikamaru lifted shadows from the ground to catch the attack before it hit him, toss Choji aside with superior leverage.

Choji ate the second pill. Shikamaru drew on the second level of the seal, watched his own hands turn gray and sprout nails like talons. The power coursing through him now was orders of magnitude above the first level. He caught Choji’s next punch in one hand, threw him to the ground with next to no effort. Quickly weaved the signs for another shadow bind and wrapped Choji up in it. 

“It’s over.” He was breathing hard, exhausted despite the power infusion. “Give up, Choji. Don’t make me hurt you.” 

Choji glared at him. Slowly, ever so slowly, forced his right hand to move and grab the pill box once more. 

“Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re not ready to take the third pill. Only adult members of your clan survive the transformation - who even let you have one?” 

Choji said nothing- but, with a sudden effort of will, he pushed the pill into his mouth. His teeth snapped shut behind it, he swallowed- 

The resulting explosion of chakra shredded the shadow bind like wet tissue paper. 

Shikamaru knew, intellectually, what the effects of the third pill would be. But it was one thing to know and another to feel the impossible amount of chakra. To see it, so thick that it couldn’t be contained in Choji’s actual body and spread out behind him, like the wings of a butterfly. 

But there was a reason children were strictly forbidden to use that pill. Choji’s entire body had changed as the chakra burned straight through all the fat in his body. Next it would start on the muscle. He might be permanently crippled - or worse.

“Choji, you absolute idiot! I’m not worth this!” 

“Hey, Shikamaru… Shut up. Stop treating me like a child. I know exactly what my friends are worth!” 

Choji stepped forward - and closed the distance between them so quickly that even with the second level activated, Shikamaru couldn’t track his movements.

He did feel the punch. It was the last thing he felt for a while. 

By the time he regained consciousness, the sun - which had been hanging high above them as they fought - was starting to set. He’d been lying there for hours. Some punch. 

Wait. He was still in the Valley. It had been hours, but they hadn’t moved. Why hadn’t Choji scooped him up and dragged him back? 

Because, despite ‘winning’ the fight, Choji had burned through all of his chakra and inflicted unimaginable damage to his body. He was lying right next to Shikamaru. Must have succumbed and collapsed a moment later. 

Shikamaru dropped to his knees, listened… Yes, he was still breathing. A faint, wheezing, rattle of a breath, but Choji was alive. 

Damn it, where was the rest of the Leaf team? Choji was going to die if he didn’t get expert help. The kind of help that meant Lady Tsunade. All the way back in the village. 

Just beyond the border, Oorchimaru waited. The promise of more power, enough power to avenge the slight against his father and the Nara, waited. 

What the hell was he supposed to do? 

Shikamaru hesitated for only a moment before scooping Choji up and over his shoulders. He turned away from the Valley, back towards the Hidden Leaf - and ran.

At some point - he was starting to lose track of time, but it must have been about an hour in - he saw one of Kakashi’s hounds. Then his sensei, in the flesh. Kakashi’s single visible eye was blank and cold as he dropped down in front of Shikamaru. He stood, tightly coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s provocation. 

“Take him,” Shikamaru said. “He needs Tsunade - now.” 

“Those aren’t my orders.” Ice in his voice. Ice in his expression. 

“I’m coming quietly, dammit - I don't care what happens to me now - just save him!”  

“Look at that,” Kakashi drawled. Then he winked. “You’re finally learning the only thing I tried to teach you.”

Two of his clones dropped down from the trees, forced Shikamaru’s hands behind his back and tied them there. The real Kakashi took Choji into his arms.

“Let’s go.” 

But he needn’t have bothered. Shikamaru was already moving.

Chapter Text

They sent Ino’s father in to interrogate him, which was no mercy. Quite the opposite. Shikamaru knew better than anyone outside of the Yamanaka clan just how terrifying Inoichi was. More than one enemy ninja had chosen suicide over this: winding up in a position where the infamous head of T&I had a personal grudge against you.

Shikamaru had spit in the face of the three-clan alliance that Inoichi held sacrosanct. Then he’d put the man’s only daughter in mortal peril. 

There was a reason the Leaf usually didn’t send people with a personal stake in to run the interrogation. Subjects wound up dead (or left in a state of gibbering madness) at a much higher rate. It was right there in the stats the young Nara had once reviewed.

Now his previous idle curiosity was working against him. Inoichi hadn’t touched him or even raised his voice. He was a master interrogator. He knew Shikamaru would be torturing himself with anticipation - a feedback loop more deadly than any physical blow. 

“What secrets did you take to Orochimaru?” Inoichi asked. 

The same question, over and over. A basic technique. The interrogator would look for the subtle differences in the answers that indicated the subject was lying. The worst part? Shikamaru was telling the truth. He had been this entire time. 

“I never reached Orochimaru. And the Sound ninja didn’t ask for any. Their priority was getting me into the coffin. Applying the second level of the cursed seal was their primary objective - ranking even above their own survival.” 

“I didn’t ask you to analyze,” Inoichi said mildly. “Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth. In that case, you’d have no objection to undergoing the Mind Transfer-” 

“No,” Shikamaru said. With this conspiracy at the heart of the village, he couldn’t even trust the Yamanaka or the Akimichi. He’d been led around by the nose for five years; now, he was going to be damn sure he understood the full extent of Danzo’s conspiracy before he acted. 

“We both know I could take the information by force,” Inoichi said, still mild, but with the deadly intent lurking just behind his words. “It could destroy a potential asset to the village, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” 

In other words, Shikamaru would be left brain-dead, at best. That was certainly to be avoided. Still, up until the moment that Inoichi actually formed the hand-signs, he would continue to resist. 

“How’s Choji?” he asked. 

Inoichi scowled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were genuinely concerned.” 

“I am,” Shikamaru growled. Losing his temper was one of the worst things he could do while in this room - he might as well paint his own vulnerabilities in bright colors for the interrogator’s pleasure. But… 

“That’s why I’m not in the Sound right now. Because I turned around to save Choji. You don’t know what to make of that. You’re thinking, ‘Is it some kind of trick?’ I’m flattered, but the truth is simple. I wasn’t willing to let Choji die.” 

Inoichi steepled his fingers, stared at Shikamaru silently for a time. “It’s a shame you only came to that realization after all the casualties on the mission.” 

The Nara licked his lips. “Do you mean injuries, or-”  

His interrogator stood abruptly, his long coat whirling around him, and walked straight out. Pointedly not answering the question, forcing Shikamaru to stew on it. He had no doubt that the mirror in front of him was a trick device, and the other T&I ninja were monitoring him, watching for any reaction. 

Shikamaru didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. He glared straight at the mirror in stubborn silence. 

Inoichi joined Itachi, Kakashi, and Choza in the other observation room. All three men were silent and rather grim. Choza had only just arrived, once Tsunade had more or less thrown him out of the hospital since Choji’s condition was stable and, according to her, his father’s fretting was getting in the way of her work. He’d come immediately to T&I and refused to take no for an answer when it came to watching the next round of the interrogation. 

Itachi could feel a headache coming on - and he could feel his carefully laid plans wobbling on the tip of the kunai. He’d been lying, at least by omission, to these two clans for years. His old ANBU habits - trusting no one, only himself - had been hard to shake, and he’d had no way of knowing who was and wasn’t in Danzo’s pocket. 

But would the truth coming out spell a greater crisis than the one he’d hoped to avoid? 

“What do you think?” he asked Inoichi. Despite the absolute soundproofing of the observation room, he instinctively kept his voice quiet. 

“His story makes no sense. What did Orochimaru want with him, if not our village secrets?” Inoichi said with a scowl. “I think that there’s no getting to the bottom of this without using jutsu. But he’s stubborn and intelligent, a bad combination. He’ll fight back - not enough to overpower me, but his resistance will inflict unimaginable damage on his own mind.” 

Itachi pursed his lips. “And what if we assume he’s telling the truth about that part.” 

Inoichi’s eyebrows rose in skeptical unison. 

“We know the curse mark is somehow related to Orochimaru’s ability to switch bodies,” Kakashi said. Itachi hadn’t authorized him to talk about that, but his old teammate was cheerfully ignoring that. Something had shifted between them when Kakashi came back to the village carrying one of his near-dead genin in his arms.

Itachi just hoped Kakashi’s trust in him hadn’t broken completely. 

“Orochimaru wanted him to be the next host body. Offered him something that he had no intention of giving him to lure him out,” Kakashi continued. “And in the end, Shikamaru saw through it. With a lot of help from his friends.” 

Choza’s face split into a wide grin. “My boy beat some sense into your star pupil, you mean.” 

“Just so. And then Shikamaru was so concerned with Choji’s welfare that he gave up on his ambitions in order to get him back to Lady Tsunade. I don’t think he’s lying - it really is that simple.”

Inoichi frowned. “As much as I want to believe you… we trusted this boy once before, put our clans’ reputation on the line to protect his place in the village - and he threw it all away. The fact that he failed to actually reach the Sound does not excuse his actions. What’s to stop him from trying to sneak off again once he knows that Choji will recover?”

“The fault is mine,” Itachi said mildly. “Four years ago, Shikamaru asked to join ANBU. I refused him, because I thought it was better that he stay with his team. I’m afraid Orochimaru found his frustrated ambition easy to manipulate.” 

“ANBU ? That’s absurd-” Inoichi paused, mid-objection, considering the two child prodigies before him, clarified: “Psychologically absurd. I’ve no doubt he’s physically capable, but the curse mark is amplifying that ‘frustrated ambition’ you spoke of, and who knows what else, besides. I’d have to insist on a full evaluation-” 

“I don’t mean to let him join tomorrow,” Itachi said, quick enough to cut the other man off. “But instead of brushing him off, we should recognize his potential. Let him advance - but do it the right way. He’s loyal to his friends - his actions with Choji prove that, if nothing else. There are ways for him to both grow in power and protect them - at least, if we put those options before him.” 

Choza looked at his Hokage, his normally easy-going expression turned calculating. The Akimichi clan head was no less intelligent than the Nara or Yamanaka. Itachi got the impression that Choza could tell he was still holding something back - but Hokage always kept at least a few secrets. The question was if he’d opened up enough to earn their trust. 

“He’s still a child,” Choza eventually proclaimed. “And what his father did shook him to the core. Adult ninja with half his trauma have proven susceptible to Orochimaru’s sweet lies. My clan is willing to overlook this incident, provided it does not repeat itself. Inoichi?” 

The Yamanaka looked more reluctant, but eventually, he nodded. “On the condition that he sit with one of our clan therapists. And I want him showing results before we even hint at ANBU.”

“I defer to your expertise,” Itachi said, inclining his head. 

The two clan heads left soon after. Kakashi made no move to follow suit. Hands in the pockets of his vest, he stared at Itachi. 

“You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet,” the Hokage said. “Do you have any thoughts on the fate of your student?” 

“Turning back for Choji’s sake was a good sign. He remembered my one rule. But I’m reluctant to assume too much. After all, our respective situations aren’t exactly the same, are they? Despite what you lead me to believe.” 

“Speak plainly, Kakashi.” 

“As a child, I blamed one man: the White Fang. Shikamaru had his father. Nice and simple. Until it wasn’t.” Kakashi shrugged one shoulder, adopted a pretend-languid posture that didn’t fool Itachi for a moment. “Look, I know I’m not the best sensei - not even close - but the kid was fine. Still an arrogant little shit, still frustrated, but improving steadily. Then I’m out of the village for a couple weeks and he pulls something like this? It doesn’t make any sense. Unless he came across new information. Say… information pointing to the fact that Shikaku Nara’s situation is more complicated than he’d been led to believe.” 

Total silence in the room. Itachi frowned, and said nothing. 

“I’m not upset, Lord Hokage. I understand why you’ve left me in the dark all this time. But I think we both know who’s really to blame for what happened five years ago.” Of course Kakashi would - Danzo had once tried to recruit him. “And it’s no surprise that a smart kid like Shikamaru found his way to the same conclusion - eventually.”

Kakashi started walking out, paused, turned around: “You really want my advice? You already know the answer. Stop holding all your cards so close to your chest. Give the kid a bit more credit - he can handle the truth.” 

“You’ve given me much to consider,” Itachi said. His expression might as well have been carved into stone. “For now, please tell Shikamaru he’s free to go.” 

Kakashi didn’t bother to keep arguing. Just shrugged and kept walking, hands in the pockets of his vest. 

The time after Shikamaru’s release from his jail cell passed in a blur. One moment, Kakashi was there; the next, he was waking up back in his own bed in the Nara compound. He supposed that he’d succumbed to exhaustion at last. Though, something about that didn’t feel quite right -

Well, he didn’t have time to over-analyze it. He got dressed quickly and made his way towards the hospital, bracing himself for the confrontation to come. He hadn’t tried to kill any of his friends, exactly - but it was his fault that half the team had been injured, some of them severely, during their duels with the Sound ninja. 

Even Shikamaru was surprised by the first three ninja he saw there, though. Gaara of the Sand and his two older siblings were huddled at the hospital’s entrance. On his approach, the puppet one - his name escaped Shikamaru - regarded him balefully. Temari just looked amused, and Gaara’s expression was unreadable. 

“All this fuss over someone like you,” puppet-man said. “You don’t even have a bloodline limit. And you don’t look so tough.”  

“I lost to him,” Temari pointed out, smirking. “Are you implying a weakling beat me, Kankuro? You sure you want to finish that thought?”

Gaara said nothing. He didn’t have the same death-glare and killing intent that he’d worn before Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura knocked some sense into him; but being the object of his attention did feel a bit like some predator carefully studying its prey. 

So the Hokage had even called in a favor from the Sand. Inoichi hadn’t mentioned that part during the interrogation - probably because it would have reassured Shikamaru that his friends were safe and sound. Those three were formidable opponents, and he almost pitied the Sound ninja who'd gone up against them.  

“I’m sure your village will be formally recognized and rewarded for its assistance,” Shikamaru said, raising his voice over the older two’s bickering. “But let me thank you personally for keeping my comrades safe. I… didn’t make very good choices, and had put them all in considerable danger.” 

Gaara’s lips twitched up into something approaching an understanding smile. They exchanged nods as Shikamaru stepped into the hospital. The arguing continued: Kankuro wondered loudly if he’d just been made fun of, and Temari told him he was a moron, until eventually even their loud voices faded away.

He ran into Naruto and Sasuke next, both of whom seemed relatively fine, even though Naruto had fought off one of the Sound ninja all on his own. (Thanks to the Nine-Tailed Fox’s chakra inside him, no doubt. It was still officially a secret, but Shikamaru had seen more than enough, researched more than enough, to work that out long ago. It just hadn’t ever mattered to him one way or the other). 

Naruto took one look at Shikamaru and punched him in the face. Hard. Shikamaru had been expecting it - but damnit, it still hurt. He didn’t resist, though. Not even when Naruto grabbed him by the collar of the jacket and shook him for emphasis. 

“Got some nerve showing your face here after what you did,” Naruto growled.

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “If he’s here, it means he’s been cleared by T&I. He’s not our enemy.” 

“Yeah, well… I don’t gotta be happy about it! We all fought, Kiba and Neji and Choji almost died, and it’s all ‘cause you ran off like a damn idiot-” 

“I know,” Shikamaru said, quietly enough that Naruto had to lean in to hear him. “I fucked up. I got my friends hurt, and it’s a miracle I didn’t get anyone killed. I owe you all - especially you, Uchiha, for taking the lead and keeping them alive.” 

Naruto’s mouth dropped open, his grip slackening. He’d been psyched up for a fight, and didn’t seem to know what to do now. Sasuke just smirked, pointing down the hall. “Last door on the right, Nara.” 

As Shikamaru walked down the corridor - each step taking a huge effort, like his feet were sticking to the floor - he heard Naruto shout: “What happened to him? He tried to betray us, and now he’s apologizing for it?” 

“Older brother has that effect on people,” Sasuke said, the pride in his voice unmistakable. 

He reached Choji’s room, lifted his hand to knock, and hesitated. He could hear the low buzz of conversation, feel three chakra presences that he knew like the back of his hand. He’d have to face them eventually - but after what he’d done, the idea of looking them in the face filled him with an overwhelming sense of shame. 

The door swung open before he’d reached a decision. Ino regarded him, hands on hips. “About time! And what are you doing here empty-handed?” 

“In his defense, he’s fresh out of a cell,” Kakashi drawled from his perch on the window. “And we confiscated his money.” 

She glared at both of them, sniffed, tossed her head with a familiar, dramatic flourish. “I suppose you’re off the hook for now. But you’d better bring him something tomorrow. It’s the least you could do, don’t you think?” 

“Give him a break, Ino.” 

Shikamaru dared to look towards the bed at the sound of Choji’s voice. He was hooked up to various machines that Shikamaru couldn’t identify, and his body was covered with healing seals, but he was alive. And though his voice was a little weak, his body still painfully thin, the face and eyes were all right, brimming with Choji’s usual cheer.

“Oh, Choji… I’m so sorry.” His voice broke midway through. He could feel the tears coming, scrubbed his eyes with the back of one hand.

“What, this? I’ll be fine. Just need a lot of rest - and a lot of food. And hey, like Ino said, you’re treating me, starting tomorrow.” 

“But I-” 

“Not another word,” Choji said firmly. “Told you I’d beat some sense into you, and I did. Over and done with, okay?” 

Ino muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘men’, and started fussing with the curtains. 

Shikamaru just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Forgiveness was a great deal more than he deserved, especially given what he was planning to do next. But that was Choji for you. He was easily the best person Shikamaru knew. 

And the exact kind of friend he didn't deserve. 

It wasn’t hard to make an appointment with Danzo Shimura. After all, his office was right there in the Hokage Tower. Officially, he was a respected elder and advisor to the village leader, and handled many administrative matters. 

But Shikamaru was not there to discuss taxation or business licenses, and both of them knew that. Danzo’s single visible eye was narrowed to a slit as he regarded the younger man. 

“How can I help you, young Nara?” 

It was exactly what Kabuto had called him. Shikamaru wondered if that was intentional. Was Kabuto a double-agent within Orochimaru’s ranks? How deep did Danzo’s involvement with the enemies of the Leaf go? 

“I’m sure you’ve heard about what happened. You’re very well-connected,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. 

“A little,” Danzo said. “What possessed you to seek out the Sound?” 

Shikamaru answered by drawing his jacket collar back, exposing the curse mark on his neck. Danzo’s eye flashed with a brief but unmistakable greed. 

“This thing represents power. But I don’t know how to fully draw it out. I thought Orochimaru was my only option…” 

“And you were willing to betray your own village for it?” 

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” Shikamaru admitted. “I just wanted to get stronger. Strong enough to deal with the traitor and restore my clan’s honor.” 

“Understandable,” Danzo murmured, his eye still on the mark. “How did you convince them not to seal it up again?” 

“They never asked. They might think the same thing you do.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Just because it came from Orochimaru, doesn’t mean we can’t use it. Ninja turn our enemy’s own weapons against them.”

Danzo pursed his lips, gave a slow nod. “It just so happens… that I may know a little about how he created these marks.” 

“I thought that might be the case,” Shikamaru said. “I want - I need your help.” 

The elder regarded him for a moment, then smiled - an altogether sinister expression that twisted his face unpleasantly.

“You’ve done well in coming to me, young Nara. I can help you gain the power you seek. I won’t try to hold you back, the way the Hokage and his timid advisors do. If you join me, we can draw out your full potential - whatever it takes. And we’ll use that power to defend the village we love - from enemies without and within.”

Danzo extended his hand… and without a moment’s hesitation, Shikamaru took it.

Chapter Text

Three Years Later...

Root Operative Number Seven wore many masks these days. Sometimes, he was with his ANBU squad, known only as Stag. Other times - though increasingly less often - he walked around in public wearing the face of Shikamaru Nara, the freshly minted jonin.

But most of the time, he was merely Seven. An empty vessel of a man, filled with a single trait: absolute, unwavering loyalty to his master, Danzo. He went where he was ordered to go, killed who he was ordered to kill, and reported back everything he’d seen and heard. 

Once, Danzo had used privacy seals to guarantee his operatives’ absolute silence; but after the exposure and abandonment of the first Root, he couldn’t risk something so obvious. This newer, smaller Root depended on his personal trust in each member. Plus - and Seven had witnessed this - Danzo always seemed to know if someone tried to deceive him. 

(Like how Danzo had instantly recognized when Ten turned out to be a spy sent by the Hokage. One of Seven’s first missions had been to deal with that situation. And deal with it he had. Ten’s body, buried in the Wind Country desert, would never be found). 

Only a handful of operatives remained from the old days. These men and women bore One through Six in recognition of their longer service. But of the recruits taken on during the Fifth Hokage’s reign, Seven was by far the most skilled. That was why he was Seven. The fact that it had been just three years was irrelevant; Danzo rewarded performance above all else. 

He was alone with Danzo now - a mark of Danzo’s trust in him, perhaps, but also his master’s confidence that he could defend himself from any attack. Either way, Seven represented no danger. Seven was loyal. 

“Our moment has almost come,” Danzo said. “I have heard that ANBU Stag is being considered for the Hokage’s personal guard detail.” 

Seven said nothing, but his ears perked up. This was what they’d been working towards for the last year and a half, ever since Shikamaru Nara had been granted the ANBU mask. Stag’s service record was exemplary. It had to be - the Hokage’s bodyguards were the elite of the elite. 

“The ANBU Commander is hesitant to assign him, though, because of Stag’s… loose ends outside of the village. He is one of many that will never trust Stag completely due to Stag’s… family connections.” 

It was nothing new. If Seven had any use for emotions, he might have been upset or angry. But since he was Seven, he just looked at the situation analytically. Of course there would be lingering doubts about any Nara, so long as their former clan head was alive and a member of Akatsuki. 

And there’d be even more doubts about Shikaku’s son. Until…

“Your next mission is to assassinate Shikaku Nara,” Danzo said. “The act will serve us twice over. It will remove all doubts about Shikamaru Nara’s loyalty to the Leaf - and elevate Stag to the bodyguard corps. Then, Stag will be in place when we are ready to… remove Itachi Uchiha from the board.”

Seven merely nodded. They all knew about Danzo’s plan. Once the Fifth Hokage was dead - slain by Root operatives disguised as ninja from the other villages - the Leaf would need to pick his successor. The murder would prove that Danzo had been right - that the Leaf’s so-called friends would turn on them in a moment. The council would pick him without hesitation, and be ready to implement his aggressive policies in retaliation. 

The entire plan, the salvation of the Leaf Village, all depended on him, Seven. He felt nothing - no trepidation or fear. Just confidence that he would succeed. 

“You will go as Shikamaru Nara - not as Stag,” Danzo continued. “Take your old team with you. They must witness the act and vouch for your performance.” 

Seven nodded again and stood. Now that he had permission, it was no trouble at all to become Shikamaru again - relaxing his rigid posture, assuming the easy and somewhat lazy confidence of the jonin’s public face. 

“Now go. We will wait here for word of your success.” 

Shikamaru nodded one last time - and vanished in a swirl of leaves. 

The years had been kind to his old squad. Both had made chunin about a year ago. Ino was splitting her time between T&I and the hospital, rounding out her clan’s traditional skill-set with Tsunade’s field medicine program. Choji continued to practice his front-line techniques, but had also taken rotations in the Academy. As Stag, Shikamaru knew that Choji was being considered for a teaching position. Children loved him, and it would be a good outlet for his un-ninja-like protective instincts. 

Still, both were eager to come with him when he dropped in and announced that he needed their help for an out-of-village mission. They didn’t see him often - assuming he was too busy with his work as Stag (which was partially true, and therefore the best type of lie). But those old team bonds were as strong as ever.

He almost made it out of the village before he was discovered. He wasn’t surprised to see Kakashi leaning against the outer gate, but he was wary. His former sensei was one of Danzo’s most hated enemies, perhaps second only to the Hokage himself. Kakashi had once been considered for Root, but immediately sold them out to the Third. Danzo had survived being caught in the act of an attempted assassination, but even the soft-hearted Hiruzen had never fully trusted his old friend again after that, relegating Root to the shadows.

“Sensei,” Choji said, a delighted grin spreading over his face. Even Ino didn’t sense any of the tension, because Seven was an expert at this. He could become Stag and Shikamaru so completely that there wasn’t anything false in his own lazy smile. 

“Come to see us off?” 

“Oh no, I’m coming with you,” Kakashi said, managing to smile with his single visible eye, the way that only he could. “My cute little genin may be all grown up, but I’m still worried about them taking on an S-class mission without a full squad.” 

So Kakashi knew what Danzo had ordered him to do. Which meant that the Fifth knew, and was sending his loyal Hound. It was an annoying complication, but Shikamaru had both the time and capability to think on his feet and mitigate the problem. 

“Don’t worry,” Kakashi said, still eye-smiling. “You’re the team leader. I’m just another weapon at your disposal.” 

Shikamaru didn’t even begin to unpack that particular lie. He just nodded and started to sketch out the plan. The traitor Shikaku and his partner Kisame had been spotted in the Land of Wind, and allies in the Sand had tipped the Leaf off. If they moved quickly, they’d be able to intercept and surprise the two missing-nin in the middle of the desert. Both sides would be too far from potential reinforcements. Four against two. 

“But we can’t underestimate those two,” Ino pointed out, accurately enough. “Kisame’s capabilities are almost totally unknown, and…” 

She trailed off. She didn’t need to say it. They all knew how dangerous Shikaku Nara was. He’d been the Jonin Commander, and after he betrayed the Leaf, he’d piled up a body count in the hundreds as Akatsuki’s most active assassin. 

“Don’t sell our formation short,” Shikamaru said, so confidently that he was sure even Kakashi would be fooled. “When we’re working together, even he won’t stand against us.” 

Pretty words. A sweet lie. Shikamaru intended to fight and kill his traitor father by himself. And if any of them interfered with that… they’d become his enemy. 

“Let’s move out.” 

The team moved quickly, reaching Wind Country in a couple of days. None of them had much energy to spare for talking, which suited Shikamaru. He lost himself in the physical exhaustion of running, leaping, and keeping watch during his shifts. When it was his turn to sleep, he passed out almost instantly, and dreamed of nothing. 

From time to time, Ino did their team’s usual scouting technique and possessed one of the carrion birds circling overhead. She was able to spot their targets on the third day, and subsequent possessions confirmed that the pair wasn’t moving. They’d found an oasis and the shelter of some rocks, and appeared to be resting for the day. 

Shikamaru adjusted the team’s pace. It would be a bad idea to move too quickly and exhaust themselves, when they still had one hell of a fight waiting for them at the end. 

“We should get word of their position to the Sand, just in case this goes south,” he suggested, reluctantly, as they made their final approach. “Sensei, can you send a summons?” 

He had no intention of letting any other ninja steal the kill that was rightfully his. But even he wasn’t so cold or arrogant as to not plan for the worst case scenario: the traitor killing him, and his team being overwhelmed and slain in turn.

Kakashi nodded, and dispatched one of his dogs on the task. 

Their plan of approach was simple, but fell apart almost immediately. Kisame was standing alone, with no sign of the traitor. Shikamaru looked over at Kakashi, who unveiled his Sharingan, gave a quick scan of the area, and shook his head. No concealment or anything - Shikaku genuinely wasn’t there. 

“Welcome!” Kisame said, shark-teeth spread into a wide grin. He hooked one thumb over his shoulder. “He’s back there. And he wants to talk to one of you - I’ll let you guess. The rest of you are gonna stay put - or I’ll kill you.” 

“No,” Choji and Ino said together. Kakashi, a little wiser than his old students, just sighed. His sensei must have realized it would inevitably come to this - whether it had been Shikamaru’s own plan, or the whim of their target. 

“Just go with it,” Shikamaru said. “Look - I’m not thick-headed enough to actually agree to an honor duel. If I’m genuinely in danger, I’ll flare my chakra. But if we can avoid tangling with Kisame-” Whose abilities were relatively unknown, the most dangerous thing in the ninja world. “-it’s worth the risk.” 

More importantly… The task assigned to Seven was best conducted without outside interference. That chakra flare wouldn’t be coming. The options Danzo had given his agent were succeed or die trying. 

But his friends didn’t know that. Even Kakashi didn’t realize the extent of the mental conditioning Danzo was able to give his agents, thanks to the stolen eye. All three of them were expecting Shikamaru Nara to walk in there, and Shikamaru would definitely retreat if he was in mortal danger. 

And by the time he’d walked past Kisame - not flinching, even as he exposed his back to the other ninja’s massive blade - and entered the oasis itself, he was Seven, through and through. Seven gave the traitor an impassive once-over, noting that his appearance matched the intelligence reports. Seven was more concerned with surveying his surroundings. He noted that the oasis was surrounded by tall rocks on all sides, which, given the time of day, would lengthen the reach of both of their shadow abilities. 

Shikaku Nara, the infamous Akatsuki assassin… hesitated. “Son?” 

Seven allowed himself a smirk, a slow shake of his head. He spoke in a monotone. “Root Agent Seven. My master sends his regards.” 

“So that’s it,” Shikaku whispered. His voice shook, but his eyes were growing cold and clear. “I must admit Danzo is cunning. He knows I did it all for you. He knows that killing you would break me. No matter how this ends, he wins.” 

“He’s left you a choice. You don’t have to resist.” 

Shikaku smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about it. “Danzo underestimates me. I’ve already stretched my soul to the breaking point. Let it shatter!” 

Both of their shadow clones stopped talking, vanished simultaneously - and the real fight began. 

An hour passed. 

Then Shikamaru, still in the cursed seal’s monstrous second stage, carried the corpse out of the oasis.

His entire body trembled, not just from physical exhaustion, but from the enormity of what he’d just done. He couldn’t entirely hide from it, not even with the mentality of Seven and the ANBU dissociation skills possessed by Stag. He was ignoring it the best that he could - but he knew that couldn’t last forever. 

Kisame whistled. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“Will you avenge him?” Shikamaru asked. Looking at Kisame was a lot easier than the prospect of facing his team. He could imagine Choji’s disappointment, Ino’s shock. 

“Nah. He asked me not to interfere. And if he was weaker than you, he deserved to die - simple as that.” Kisame scanned the body with his inhuman eyes, as if searching for a genjutsu or some other trick, but there was none. It was Shikaku’s body, all right - no heartbeat, no breathing. 

“Next time we meet, though? I’ll cut you into little pieces,” the Akatsuki member said, in the same tone of voice he’d use to discuss the weather. “You cost me a good partner.” 

Shikamaru laughed, high-pitched and unhinged. “Looking forward to it.” 

He didn’t remember much after that. Just Kakashi taking the corpse from him, and collapsing into Choji’s arms as the cursed flesh receded, and his chakra exhaustion finally took him.

When he woke up, he wasn’t in the hospital, but back underground in the Root base of operations. Danzo’s influence, no doubt - getting him discharged before he’d even regained consciousness.

Kakashi, Choji, and Ino were nowhere to be seen. Only the corpse, stretched out on a table - and Danzo, seated in a chair, fingers steepled together. Danzo never showed much in the way of emotion, but the small smile on his lips spoke volumes. 

“Well done, Seven.” 

Seven licked his lips, looked around. “Are we alone?” 

“Yes,” Danzo said, misunderstanding what had driven his agent to ask the question. Arrogant and untouchable, even to the last. “The other operatives guard the entrance-” 

Shikamaru shed the Seven persona, like a snake would shed its skin, and snapped Danzo’s neck with the Shadow Bind. 

He’d acted before his brain could even catch up to what he was doing. Even now, as he stared down at the body, it was lagging behind. There’d been some sort of genjutsu - he could feel it lifting up like a veil. Like he'd stepped out of the fog and into the clear air for the first time in three years. But as to what that all meant, he hadn't a clue. 

He could hear shouts and the metallic ringing of kunai, feel familiar chakra signatures. The remaining Root operatives were up there, all right - but they’d been discovered, and were fighting against his team. They wouldn’t be interrupting. 

Shikamaru dodged the blow from behind him on pure instinct, his body already taking on the first level of Orochimaru’s cursed seal. Danzo was dead, he’d watched the old man die - but Danzo was alive, and standing there with murderous intent.

This wasn’t genjutsu or a shadow clone. The body on the floor had vanished, as if it had never been there. Time travel? Is that even possible?

“I’ve underestimated you - and our Lord Hokage,” Danzo said, as he slowly unwrapped the bandages on his arm. Shikamaru stared as the implanted Sharingan were revealed, one after the other. One of them had gone milky-white, blind - so that’s how he cheated death. Any technique like that has a physical cost. But he can do it a dozen more times- 

“Kill your own father. Establish your loyalty beyond all doubt - sacrificing everything, just to get close enough to the target. My own strategy turned against me. I didn’t think the Uchiha had it in him. But you’ve both made a fatal mistake. I’m very difficult to kill.” 

At once, Shikamaru called up the second level of the curse. He couldn’t use it for very long - but he had to kill Danzo fast, and do it over and over. Unlike the master of Root, he only had one life to lose.  

He wore through six of the implanted Sharingan, drawing on the full capabilities of his shadows, all of the elemental techniques he knew. When he was completely out of chakra, he switched to his fists and a kunai, cut Danzo’s throat three more times. 

But it was no use. Danzo could keep coming back. He was wearing Shikamaru down, toying with him- 

“I can replace these at any time,” Danzo said. “Ours is a deadly profession. Leaf ninja go missing all of the time. Uchiha and Hyuuga are instructed to destroy their eyes if they’re captured, but my agents will find them first, recover them…” 

Shikamaru felt the curse’s power recede. He simply didn’t have the power to keep it going. Danzo smiled again, and approached him slowly, reveling in the moment of triumph. 

“You’ve cost me ten eyes. I’m legitimately impressed. You could have been the very best of my agents. A shame that you’ve thrown your life away, for the sake of a village that hates you. Or is it because you’re loyal to the Hokage? He offers prettier lies than I do - but he was using you, just the same as I was.” 

“It wasn’t for either of them,” Shikamaru said, forcing the words out through his utter physical exhaustion. “It was the only way to get what I wanted.” 

And the corpse of his father sprang up from the table, driving a kunai into Danzo’s back. 

Danzo reversed it instantly, of course, but Shikaku caught him in a shadow the moment he reappeared. Danzo’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the scarred face, currently twisted into an ugly expression somewhere between triumph and hatred.

“But you were dead! I saw it-” 

“Even the Sharingan sees what it wants to see,” Shikaku said. The Shadow Bind’s hand traveled slowly up to take hold of Danzo’s neck. Taking its time, letting the older man realize what was happening - and that he was all out of eyes to reverse this death. 

“I’ve waited eight years for this,” Shikaku whispered. “Danzo Shimura, you’ve betrayed the Leaf Village for the last time. The penalty is death.” 

The shadow hand crushed Danzo’s throat - then plunged into his bandaged eye and tore the final Sharingan free. The red eye gleamed in the dark fingers.

It was the last thing Shikamaru saw before he passed out.

Chapter Text

Three Years Ago…

The Fifth Hokage watched, bemused, as Shikamaru sprang to his feet and began systematically smashing the one-way mirror, ripping up the scrolls that allowed T&I to listen in, and generally soundproofing his cell in every way a ninja could. 

“I assume you have something to tell me.” 

The erstwhile defector faced him, a deadly serious expression on his face. “We don’t have much time, so please don’t interrupt me - unless I go seriously off-base.”

And the young ninja began to sketch out a reasonably accurate picture of the events from five years ago. He obviously lacked the truly classified details, but his outline was close enough. Itachi wondered aloud how he’d come so close, and wasn’t surprised to hear that Asuma Sarutobi had let enough slip to get Shikamaru asking questions. 

Human error was the bane of any cover-up - though, to be fair to Asuma, this was more like human instinct. And it was a good one. It was probably the only reason Shikamaru was speaking to him now. 

“Everyone knows I tried to defect to the Sound. Danzo will believe me if I walk into his office, act like I’m still pissed with you, and try to join Root.” 

Itachi was no fool. He’d come to the same conclusion - realized, too, that this might be their only real chance to slip someone into Danzo’s organization and bring it down from the inside. But he had been wrestling with whether to put so much onto the shoulders of a traumatized twelve-year-old. 

Now... the kid was asking for it.

“It won’t be that easy,” the Hokage said, and lifted a hand to halt Shikamaru’s interruption. “Not because you’re incapable. Because I’m reasonably certain that Danzo stole a very unique Sharingan from a very strong member of our clan. I won’t go into the specifics… But if I’ve guessed correctly, the eye would allow Danzo to utilize a subtle and deady genjutsu. It’s a one of a kind technique that can chip away at one’s will so completely that they don’t even realize they’ve been affected.” 

“You know this because nobody’s successfully infiltrated his ‘Root’ before,” Shikamaru guessed.  

“Some vanished. Others have simply gone over to his side. They continue to report back, but give nothing of substance.”  

“Is there nothing that we can do to counteract it? You’re the Hokage - and everyone says, the strongest Uchiha since, well.” 

“That genjutsu was unique to its wielder. My Sharingan manifests differently. But…” Itachi summoned the crow that bore Shishui’s other eye. Shikamaru sucked in breath, realizing what he was looking at even if he didn’t fully understand the technique at play. 

“If you put me under first, he won’t be able to.” 

“It’s the only way. But it will be supremely unpleasant,” Itachi warned him. “You’ll be handing me the keys to your mind, letting me rewrite your motivations, your basic feelings and reactions. Can you really trust me that much?” 

Shikamaru considered it, then asked: “Did my father trust you?” 

“He did. He entrusted me with the most important thing in the world to him: the safety of his wife and son.”

“Then I’ll follow in his footsteps. Do it.” 

Easier said than done. The genjutsu would need to be so complex that it would last for several years, yet so subtle that Danzo couldn’t detect his target had already been influenced. Itachi wove it slowly, instructing Shikamaru to be utterly loyal to Danzo and do everything he said without question. Even if it involved killing other Leaf ninja. 

(It was never easy to issue that type of order, knowing that some family would be robbed of a mother or father, a son or daughter, all for some nebulous ‘greater good’. He winced - but he wove it in, because there was no other way). 

He built in two exceptions. Shikamaru would briefly return to himself when he stood face-to-face with his father, because Danzo would certainly want Shikaku dead, and Itachi would like to avoid that if he could. The second would lift the genjutsu when Shikamaru was alone with Danzo and his subconscious was certain that he was now strong enough and in a safe enough position to detain and capture the man. 

“Go home and sleep,” Itachi ordered at the end of an exhausting several hours. “When you wake up, you’ll have forgotten everything we discussed.” 

Weary to the bone, he watched the young ninja rise and walk out of the cell. His stride was completely even - it really did seem as though he was his normal self. Only Itachi knew that he was now closer to a puppet, and that he was the one holding the chakra strings. 

He closed his eyes - and prayed that he hadn’t sent the boy to his death. Or worse.

Three Days Ago 

The moment Shikamaru saw his father’s face, the genjutsu began to unwind. It took several moments - like he was a swimmer that emerged, gasping, after having nearly drowned. He experienced the strangely detached sensation of hearing his own voice in Seven’s monotone, saying what Danzo had instructed him to say. 

Then he was himself, Shikamaru, once more. 

He wasn’t fully aware of what had lifted the spell, but knew by instinct that it wouldn’t last for very long. That there was some important reason he’d go back under after perhaps an hour at most. It was a little frightening how easily his mind accepted that, despite the total lack of any data or evidence to analyze. 

He could only think of one thing: he had asked for the genjutsu. And he only had one strategy: trusting his past self had done the right thing. 

He quickly formed the hand-seal for a shadow clone, letting it handle throwing around shadow-binds and elemental techniques. It wouldn’t do to let his team and Kisame sense a halt to the battle. He used the Leaf jonin code to signal to his opponent: I want to talk.

Evidently, the code hadn’t changed that much, or Shikaku was reading his body language. The Akatsuki member created his own clone, dispatched it to fight Shikamaru’s. He approached the real one warily, as if still expecting a trap. 

“What’s going on? Are you-” 

“Yeah, it’s me. For now. We don’t have time for a tearful reunion,” Shikamaru said, his voice harsh, mostly because he could already feel his eyes growing wet. “The genjutsu is only dispelled temporarily.” 

Most people would have been confused. His father just sighed. “Itachi sent you to take down Danzo, huh. I told him to keep you safe-” 

“I asked for this mission. And I can handle it,” Shikamaru said, scowling. Was his old man really going to underestimate him, now of all times? “Since seeing you knocked the sense back into me, we can assume the Hokage wants you alive. Which means…” 

He wasn’t surprised to find it in the pocket of his flak jacket. A bottle of deadly poison. It resembled what the Sound Four had told him to take to start his transformation to the second level of the cursed seal. For all intents and purposes, he’d been dead. Even a sensor-type would have believed it. 

Itachi had made sure the poison found its way into his jacket - which meant it had been modified to work on someone who didn’t have the cursed seal. Tsunade’s genius at work, presumably. 

Shikamaru just hoped they’d tested it before sending him out with a totally unknown prototype. But it wasn’t like he had a choice. Wordlessly, he held the bottle out. 

Shikaku didn’t seem to recognize it, but he did realize what was happening. He took the poison, held it… hesitated.

“Look. Just in case our genius Hokage screwed up - which happens to the best of us-” 

“Don’t say it,” Shikamaru protested, and fuck, he was really crying now. “It’s going to work. It has to work.” 

“Just in case,” Shikaku insisted. His lips twisted up into a genuine smile. “I’m very proud of you, son. You’re going to take that bastard Danzo down, and wherever I am, whether I’m alive or dead, I’ll rest easy.”

He uncorked the bottle - and drained it before Shikamaru could muster a reply.

Present Day

Shikamaru woke to the sound of raised voices.

“I wanted him alive.” The Hokage, sounding unusually peeved. 

“Didn’t work out that way.” Shikaku, utterly unapologetic. “He was using the stolen Sharingan to… reverse time in some way. I couldn’t risk assuming that the Shadow Bind would be enough to contain him.” 

“So it was just the mission? Nothing personal?” 

“Get off my ass,” his father growled, which was… weird. The Shikaku that Shikamaru remembered had never been anything but utterly deferential to his superiors. “That bastard got what he deserved.” 

Itachi just sighed - but dropped the issue. 

“Hey, dad,” Shikamaru said. His voice was weak, even to his own ears, but steady. “The hell are you doing here?” 

Shikaku looked at him, confused. “My only son’s in the hospital - where else would I be?” 

“Oh c’mon, it’s just chakra exhaustion. You don’t need to be hovering. You should be at home, throwing yourself at mom’s feet and begging for forgiveness.”

The look of absolute horror on his father’s face wasn’t that funny, really, but Shikamaru couldn’t stop laughing. 

“If it helps,” Itachi said, smirking slightly, “I’ll be issuing your official pardon shortly. And I’ll declassify the mission scrolls for both of you. Everyone will know you joined Atasuki and Root, respectively, under my orders.” 

“Spoken like someone who’s never been married,” Shikaku grumbled. “She is going to kill me. And I’ll deserve it.” 

Itachi talked for a long time after that. He explained that Shikamaru’s complete drain of his own chakra had left the cursed seal more aggressive and hungry than before. It had nearly manifested, even though he’d been sleeping, and Kakashi had constructed a hasty barrier seal for the moment. Tsunade would be examining him shortly, and would likely recommend it be removed entirely - something Jariya was confident he could handle with, quote, “minimal trauma to the subject.” 

Shikamaru just nodded. He’d only needed that kind of power for one objective. Now that he’d accomplished it… he could go back to being ordinary. 

Itachi explained that, with Danzo dead, Root had been disbanded - for the second time. The kids that had once joined Shikamaru’s Academy class (and the same trio he’d come to know as Agents One through Three - Sai, Torune, and Fū) were with T&I, and likely would be for some time. Danzo’s possession of Shishui’s eye meant that even these most loyal followers might have been subtly influenced, or even outright brainwashed. It would take the Leaf a long time to decide on how to properly punish and/or rehabilitate them. 

Four through Six had managed to escape capture, and might be a problem later. But without the head of the snake, Itachi was fairly confident that ANBU could handle three missing-nin. For all intents and purposes, Root was no longer a factor in village politics. 

Even though the poison had fooled Kisame for the moment, something as monumental as Shikaku’s return would soon reach Akatsuki’s ears. And now the Leaf had lost their only source within the organization. Shikaku would be fully debriefed and provide eight years’ worth of valuable intelligence, but the fact remained: to remove Danzo, the village had purposefully blinded itself to the actions of another enemy. 

“... but, I’m confident we’ll be able to deal with it. We may have lost Shikaku as a spy, but we’ve re-gained his peerless insight-” 

“You don’t have to blow smoke up my ass,” Shikaku said. “I’ll be your advisor, or the Jonin Commander, or whatever you need me to be. But only after I take the next three months off and spend every waking moment making it up to my wife.” 

Itachi… only smiled. “Of course.” 

“Better start now,” Shikamaru suggested, smirking in turn. “Go home. Or I’ll tell her where to find you.” 

“You became an insufferable little shit while I was gone, you know that?” But there was no real bite to the words. Shikaku laid one big, scarred hand on Shikamaru’s head - and was gone a moment later. 

Itachi sat quietly in his visitor’s chair, kindly pretending not to notice as Shikamaru scrubbed the tears out of his eyes. Eventually, their gazes met. 

“What about you? I know you joined ANBU on Danzo’s orders - but your superiors have nothing but praise for Stag’s performance. We could also re-form your genin team as a strike unit under Kakashi. With Akatsuki still at large, we’ll certainly need it.” 

“I don’t know yet,” Shikamaru said, shaking his head. “I just… need some time to think about it. With Danzo dead, and my dad back in the village - it’s like, well, I just accomplished everything I was ever working towards as a ninja. You know?” 

Itachi nodded gravely. “A rare feeling in our line of work. Take your time. Treasure it.” 

“... Yeah. Yeah, I will.” 

Itachi sat in his office until late into the night, but he wasn’t getting any work done. He was staring at the crow-summons that now bore both of Shishui’s eyes. Implanted as they were, the Mangekyō was dormant - but it would snap into life whenever he wished, via a subtle application of his own chakra. 

Kotoamatsukami. Possibly the most powerful technique in his arsenal. Arguably the most evil. The ability to break and recreate another person’s mind, molding it like soft clay… 

It was easy to see why people feared his clan. Easy, too, to see how their founder Madara had let this great power corrupt him.  

Itachi didn’t look up when he sensed his father’s chakra outside his office. He’d left orders not to be disturbed… but even his ANBU guards were no match for Fugaku. A few minutes’ shouting, and his father stood in front of his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Your mother is worried,” Fugaku explained, which was the closest he’d ever come to admitting he was worried. Good old emotional repression. 

“My eyesight is fading,” Itachi said, in a soft voice, as if he was still the only one in the room. “It happens to us all, but with my weak constitution… I shouldn’t be surprised. My own eyes will wear out in another few months.” 

His father frowned, then looked at the crow. “Shishui’s.” Not a question. 

“You never knew how his eyes manifested, because he didn’t want you to know. Because we were going to use the Kotoamatsukami on you,” Itachi said. “Break your identity, your self, into a million tiny pieces, and build it back up to our liking. We thought it was the only way to keep the peace in the village.”

The old Fugaku - the one they’d felt they needed to use the technique on in the first place - would have exploded in rage. This Fugaku - the one who’d been advisor to the Hokage for eight long years, who'd seen his clan integrate back into the village, who'd seen the long bias against them fade away (though it would never vanish entirely) - just sighed.

“I wouldn’t have listened to reason. Not back then. Your only options to stop the coup were to use the technique - or assassinate me.”

He didn’t say I forgive you. He didn’t need to. 

“Can anyone really be trusted with the power in his eyes?” Itachi said.

“If not his, you’ll need to take mine,” Fugaku said, then smirked at Itachi’s expression. “Of course I’d sacrifice them for you. You’re everything we fought for. A Uchiha Hokage, strong and wise enough to finally heal the rift that’s haunted this village since its founding. I’m just an old man, who made too many mistakes.

“I warn you, though - my technique is a lot more… destructive than Shishui’s. The Kotoamatsukami can end wars before they start. Mine’s only good for killing. So, think it over - you still have time. But, for what it’s worth-” His father cleared his throat, looked at the ceiling to avoid meeting Itachi’s eyes. “I’d trust you with it. I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished so far. Both our clan and this village are damn lucky to have you.” 

It was far too much emotional honesty - for both of them. Itachi didn’t protest when Fugaku muttered some excuse and walked out of the office. 

Itachi’s new eyes, freshly implanted, swiveled to focus on the scroll.

“An urgent message from the Sand Village. They’ve come under attack.” 

Shikamaru frowned. “But no other village has declared war. Which means…” 

His father nodded. “Akatsuki is finally making their move. They’ve always wanted the Tailed Beasts. Now they feel powerful enough to start taking them.” 

“We must send aid at once,” the Hokage said, turning to Shikamaru. “I wanted to give you more time to recover from the procedure… but we’ve just run out. I need you to assemble your team and get moving. Take Shikaku’s intel profile scrolls - you’ll need them.”  

“Understood, Lord Hokage,” Shikamaru said. 

He might no longer have the cursed seal, but he was still a Leaf jonin, and a Nara - both titles to be proud of. He’d been given a mission to aid the Kazekage, their village’s ally, and he was damn sure going to carry it out. 

“I’ll be back soon… Dad.” 

“I know you will, kid. I know you will.”