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Chapter Text

Shikamaru creeps through the dark of his home. 

Small feet make no noise as he pads across the tatami, coming to stand in a shadow at the doorway. His father is resting. His mother is reading. 

Yoshino doesn’t look up as she addresses him, more than familiar with her son’s sneaking. “What is it, Shikamaru?”

“I think I’m an alien parasite.”

“That’s nice dear.”

“I had another dream,” he says quickly, eager to get the words out before he forgets, “it was about big metal buildings and people walked really fast. It was snowing. There were lights everywhere.”

“Sounds like Ame,” Shikaku grunts, eyes still closed. Yoshino flips the page. “Minus the lights.”

“Ame?”

“It borders Lightning and Fire.”

“A country then,” the boy nods. He waits for his father to open his eyes before asking his second question. “Do they know Jesus?”

“What?”

“Do you know Jesus?”

“No son, I do not know Jesus.”

“Oh. He seemed like a big deal in my dream.”

“You dreamt of a person?” Yoshino asks then, looking up from her book, “you’ve never done that before.”

In the dark of the hour, she can’t see her son make a face and shrug. She knows the mannerism well enough to sense it, though. “Not really. It was still just a place, but it looked like we were about to celebrate something, or we were celebrating. Probably Jesus.”

Since the boy turned three he’s been recalling odd dreams. They’re of places he’s never seen before and no books in the house contain things quite like he describes. Inoichi had already told them it was the active imagination of a young boy and nothing more, but Shikamaru has a tendency to get in his own head. He’s been convinced he’s not a human for the past month. Yoshino never thought raising a four year old would require constant reassurance that he wasn’t a changeling. 

“That sounds very interesting,” she says, looking back to her book. “I’m sure he was swell.”

“We put trees up for him. I think so too.”

Shikaku knows his son well. “What kind of trees?”

“Evergreen!”  he says brightly, bouncing out of the shadow and into his parents’ room. The boy jumps onto the bed uninvited, settling between the two. Shikaku lifts an arm for his son to wiggle under. “Evergreen Conifers, all of them. There was a giant one in front of a frozen lake covered in lights and glass balls. It was a spruce. Did you know they don’t grow well in clay soil?”

“Hm, how come?”

“Clay in soil prevents drainage and makes it alkaline. Spruce trees grow best in acidic soil that drains well. Oh! And the resin that comes from Spruce trees is flammable. We don’t have many evergreens here, but I read that Lightning country has a bunch. Maybe that’s why they have so many forest fires.”

“It doesn’t rain as much in the far north as it does here,” Yoshino explains, “I’m sure your spruce theory has some weight, but it’s ultimately an issue of climate. When winter doesn’t bring strong snow, Lightning’s summers are too dry to prevent fires.”

“Oh,” her son blinks, leaning into his father’s warmth, “like Colorado.”

She hums. “Sure. Like Colorado.”

“Have you ever seen a shark?”

Shikamaru falls asleep mid-sentence ten minutes later. 

When he wakes up, he’s a bit disappointed that neither of his parents want him to finish explaining the wonders of dermal denticles. 

He’ll tell Choji about it later.

Chapter Text

Most children of the Nara clan are born with freckles. 

It’s said to be an indication of how strong their clan blood is. Much like a fawn, they’re born with spots that are a clear indication of their age. Most children outgrow them by their second year, their skin changing from speckled to smooth and pale. 

Yoshino’s son is just under five.

He has the most freckles she’s ever seen on a child of their clan, young or old, and shows no sign of outgrowing them. The elders call it a bad omen. Yoshino thinks it’s cute.

“Mom!” Shikamaru skids into the kitchen. “Look what I found!”

“What did I tell you about bringing things into the kitchen?”

“But this is important! Look! Look!”

The first thing Yoshino does when she turns to face him is check for injuries. Three months ago the boy had fallen out of a tree trying to chase a skink. He’d broken his arm but the first thing he told them was that he’d gotten the lizard’s tail and how he couldn’t wait to see the creature grow it back. Today, her son is unharmed but filthy. There's mud on his hands, feet, and knees. His hair is loose and untamed, twigs sticking out every which way as he smiles at her. 

“It’s a shrike’s nest,” her son beams, displaying the mess of sticks and animal hair to her. There’s a single old egg left over, tan with darker brown speckles much like the boy who holds it. “Weird, right? Usually they stick to more open terrain but I found this by the fences! I guess the farms are good hunting grounds for them. They must’ve been using the barbs to impale their prey. I’m sad I didn’t get to see them in action. That would’ve been really cool.”

“What were you doing by the fences, Shikamaru?” The fences were on the outskirts of the clan grounds, dangerously close to the countryside just outside the village. Yoshino does not want her son to be abducted or worse- adopted by farmers. Her son may look like an urchin but he is well loved and cared for thank you very much. “You know I don’t like you that far from home.”

“Mom, you need to focus on what’s important,” he urges, pushing the nest closer to her. A clump of dubious hair falls onto the tile. “Look at the nest, mom. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s dirty. Go put it outside and wash your hands.”

“Can’t I keep it?”

She sighs, frowning at the mysterious wad of fur on her floor. “Don’t you have enough nicknacks? Your room is nearly full.”

“But I don’t have a shrike’s nest. I have a robin’s and a finch’s and a bushtit’s and a crow’s and a raven’s and a flycatcher- oh! I even found a whippoorwill’s nest before! Did I tell you about that? She got really mad at me and it was really hard to track her down but-”

“Where would you even put it?” she asks, cutting him off and resisting the urge to rub at her temples. For all his fanfare, Shikamaru was a gentle soul. She didn’t want to upset him, but she also knew if she let him rant he'd go on for hours. “Your shelves are full, dear. Get rid of something if you want to keep it.”

Shikamaru looks appalled at the idea of removing something from his collections.

“But everything’s so important!”

“Son, you collect rocks.”

“Important rocks!” he cries. “They’re pretty!”

“If you want to keep it,” Yoshino stresses, leveling her only child with a serious look. "You have to get rid of something and make room.”

Later that night, Yoshino finds her son pulling his blankets through the house.

“Shikamaru?” she blinks, watching as he fights with the quilt. His sheets are tossed around his shoulders like a royal cape, but the quilt is too long and heavy so he drags it across the floor to collect dirt. For a split second, a rush of pride goes through the woman. Perhaps her son was doing his own laundry. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping on the couch.”

Yoshino blinks, instantly sobered. “Why? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” Shikamaru says, looking at her with big green eyes, “you told me to get rid of something, so I got rid of me. My room is now officially my study. Like dad’s.”

“Nara Shikamaru I swear to all things sacred if I go into your room and find a nest on your bed I will ground you.”

“It’s not my room, mom. It’s my study. I study there.” 

“Shikamaru.” 

The boy drops his blankets and scrambles down the hall. 

Yoshino chases after him.

Chapter Text

“Ino-chan is coming over later,” Shikaku says, reading a scroll at the table, “I have business with your uncle, so you two can play while we talk.”

“Ino doesn’t like to play with me,” Shikamaru says nasally. He’s pinching his nose closed, making a big show of eating the broccoli his mother put on his plate. “She says I’m gross and stinky.”

“Go shower then,” Yoshino says, watching the show. “You’ve still got dirt under your nails.”

“That’s my manicure.” 

“Go shower.”

“If you insist!” He releases his nose and goes to hop off his seat. His father catches his collar. 

“Finish your vegetables first.”

“You people ask too much of me.”

“Eating and basic hygiene are not big requests, son.”

“Finish your food and shower,” Yoshino smiles, “then afterwards I can help you with your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he asks through a mouthful of rice. 

Shikaku looks up from his scroll long enough to give the boy a once over. Yoshino’s hair was soft and straight. Shikaku’s was coarse, but straighter. Their son constantly looked like he was about to be struck by lightning, waves and spikes going every which way in tangles and cowlicks. Not even the classic Nara ponytail can tame his mane. 

“Nothing, mophead.”

“That’s mean, dad.”

Yoshino huffs out a laugh and nudges Shikamaru’s plate closer to his person. “It needs a good brushing,” she says, “and maybe a cut.”

“Fine,” she sighs, looking away from the nasty pout on her son’s face, “no cut.”

Shikamaru’s face brightens considerably until his father drops two more pieces of broccoli on his plate. 

The look of betrayal his son sends him makes Shikaku think being a father is worth it. 

He’s so dramatic. 

Ino’s even more dramatic, if you ask Shikamaru. 

“Did you even bathe?” she scoffs. “You look like someone plucked you out of the Naka river.”

The Naka river is in high tide this season, so it’s muddier than usual. The clay runs off from rain and turns the dry season’s clear waters a murky brown. It didn’t used to do that, according to a random Uchiha elder Shikamaru ran into a month ago while swimming in it. Apparently, swimming in the river is forbidden and he could’ve been arrested. Worse, building up around the river caused the run-off to worsen. Probably since the foliage around it changed from native to Hashirama trees. 

“Are Hashirama trees invasive?” he asks his uncle.

“Oh, to peek into that mind of yours,” his uncle laughs, patting his head. “It’s a shame it's such a mess in there. I bet I’d learn a lot if I could really decipher it.”

Shikamaru’s brain works differently, according to his uncle. He doesn’t think in the linear way most people do, so it’s hard for his uncle to read his thoughts and memories. A common enough phenomenon not to raise any flags. Rare in clans, though.

Shikamaru thinks it has something to do with… acoustics? He’s not sure why. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Their growth rate is incredibly slow without the Shodai around, so I wouldn’t worry about the ecosystem too much.”

Shikamaru is always worried about the ecosystem. He says as much. 

Inoichi just laughs him off and nudges the kids into the yard. The two men go into the game room, the only room Shikamaru is not allowed in. Shikaku made it a rule that only shinobi are allowed there: the greatest motivator he could come up with to get his son passionate about the shinobi arts. It provided lukewarm results. 

“You’re such a weirdo,” Ino says to her not-cousin cousin as she saunters into the grassy field. Shikamaru trots behind her, looking much like a lost puppy. He’s still wet from his bath. 

“I am?”

“Yes,” she nods. Her mother says it’s fine to stick out, so long as you’re confident. Ino does not think her not-cousin is very confident. He’s too soft. He’s going to get his feelings hurt at this rate. “We’re starting school soon. What are you going to do when no one likes you?”

She turns around to watch him think about it, determined to decipher his expressions. Her dad can’t read Shikamaru’s mind, so Ino’s made it her goal to surpass him. Shikamaru will be her pet project for the foreseeable future.

She watches closely as his default doe-eyed idiot look turns into something more troubled. He thinks better of his initial reaction though, and sets his mouth in a determined line.

“I think it’d be better that way,” he says, nodding to himself. “I don’t really want people to like me. I don’t want to go to school either.”

“Liar,” she sing-songs, pride in his posture. He’s not usually so blatant about his thoughts. Lucky! “You’re too transparent Stink-a-maru. Just say you care what others think and go.”

“I don’t care,” he frowns, infuriatingly honest. “I just think it’d be better if I didn’t go.”

So what if she was wrong? It was more like half-wrong. She’ll still count it as a win. “How could not going be better? You’re supposed to be clan head one day. You have to go.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, duh.”

“Huh, no one told me that.”

“You just weren’t listening,” she huffs. “You don’t hear anything unless it sounds like a bird’s call.”

“Oh yeah! Want to hear my raven impression? I’ve gotten better since the last time you were here.”

“No way! If you start you’ll never stop.”

“Aw man, but I’m getting pretty good.”

Ino swivels back around and drops into a graceful seiza under the first tree she gets to. If you don’t want to be subjected to bird sounds for hours at a time, it’s best to keep Shikamaru occupied. “Come here. I’ll braid your hair so it’s not so stupid.”

Shikamaru tugs a curl thoughtfully. “My dad called me a mophead this morning.”

“He should’ve called you ugly.”

“You’re mean.” He sits in front of her anyway. 

She digs her hands right in, contemplating how many braids she wanted to do. Shikamaru’s hair won’t lay flat and has a tendency to frizz in the humidity, so more is probably better. As she starts to section, a high pitched whistle sounds out right in front of her, bouncing rapidly between frequencies. 

“House finch,” Shikamaru says and Ino doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s got a dopey grin on his face. He’s too proud of his impressions. A genjutsu would have the same effect. “There’s a brood of them by the gutter on the west side of the compound. I can show you if you want.”

“Are there babies?”

“Eggs, right now. I can call you again when they hatch.”

Ino hums and finishes the first braid. She keeps the bottom half of his hair loose to pull into a ponytail. “When I’m finished we can go. So long as the sounds are as cute as that one you can keep practicing.”

“This one’s a robin-”

Chapter Text

“Oh! I know this!”

Yoshino sighs, pulling the plate of sushi away from him. The doctor said raw foods may induce more of her son’s odd dreams. Shikaku doesn’t believe the man, but his wife was willing to try. That doesn’t mean she has to give up on her favorite food, though, just keep it out of her son's grubby hands. “Seeing something in your dreams does not equal knowing it, Shikamaru. Remember the ninkin?”

“He looked friendly,” the boy pouts. “How was I supposed to know he was a shinobi?”

“Don’t approach lone dogs in the street, darling. They're usually working.”

“They should have vests.”

“They can wear whatever they want.”

Shikamaru huffs, still eyeing the plate. “All the working dogs in my dreams have vests. The ones that don’t are pets.”

“Your dreams are wrong more often than not, love,” Yoshino sighs. “How about we visit the Inuzuka compound? That way you can learn about ninkin properly. Tsume-sama has a son your age.”

“Inuzuka,” Shikamaru repeats, “that means ‘house of dogs,’ right? Are they in charge of all the dogs here?”

“Most of the trained ones, yes.”

“Is her son a dog?”

Yoshino coughs and Shikamaru perks up at the poorly concealed laugh. “No darling, her son is a son, like you.”

“In my dreams people call their pets their babies,” he shrugs, a hand creeping across the counter. Yoshino smacks it. “Can’t I have one? It looks tasty.”

“You can’t. And that’s not how Konoha is: a pet is a pet, a ninkin is a ninkin, a child is a child. The feelings one has towards each are different.”

“So if we got a cat would you like it more or less than me?”

Yoshino blinks. “Do you want a cat? You’ve never mentioned that before.”

“This is hypothetical, mom.”

“Do you hypothetically want a cat?” 

Having a pet might keep him on the clan grounds for once. No matter what they say or do, her son wanders off for hours at a time. Once, he was gone for a full three days. A Hyuuga scout found him in an abandoned foxhole eating bark. He tried to get the scout to try some. 

Shikamaru’s nose scrunches the way his father’s does when faced with a troublesome decision. 

“No,” he says firmly. “I don’t want a cat.”

“Alright. If you ever do, I’ll get you one.”

“Can I get a snake?”

“Absolutely not.”

“A fish?”

Yoshino eyes the sushi for a moment and hopes her son isn’t trying to be clever. “Sure,” she shrugs. “We’ll buy you a fish.”

“Buy me one?” Shikamaru blinks, bewildered. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s a pet fish.”

“So?”

“You can’t just pluck a fish out of the wild and give it a name.”

“Isn’t that what you did with me?”

“What?” Yoshino blurts, startled. “Who told you that?”

“Ensui-oji,” her son says proudly, leaning back into his seat as he talks with his hands. “He told me that you and dad went into the woods for a while and when you came back you had me in your tummy! You must’ve found me out there, right? That’s why I’m so weird. You guys fished me out of the Naka river, didn’t you?”

Legend says the Naka river is a bridge between worlds. The river’s currents pull swimmers deep into the depths and drown them and the elders of each clan swear it’s the river of the gods, not meant to be touched by mortals. Instead, it is the passageway to the afterlife, a river meant to be crossed by the dead and no one else.

“Am I a ghost?” her son asks in a hushed whisper. “You can tell me. I won’t mind.”

“You’re not a ghost,” she sighs and pats his head. “How do you know about the Naka river legends? I never told you that.”

“An old lady told me. I was swimming and she started talking about rules and stuff. It was weird.”

“Swimming in the Naka river is forbidden, Shikamaru,” she says, trying for stern but sounding weak even to her own ears. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m a good swimmer,” her son shrugs. “I know the currents are irregular but that’s alright. I can read them.”

Is that a thing you can do? She hasn’t thought about such things since she learned to water-walk. Yoshino isn’t going to ask. “It’s still forbidden.”

“Yeah,” Shikamaru sighs, sounding wistful. “That’s what Uzume-oba said too.”

Uzum- the Uchiha clan elder? The former clan head? The most powerful Uchiha currently alive? 

“We’re getting you that fish,” Yoshino says firmly and wills her blood pressure to go down, “and you are going to love, cherish, and take good care of it, okay?”

Please let this stupid fish save her stupid son’s life.

Chapter Text

His son is training. 

Shikamaru is in the courtyard with a bucket, going through the Nara forms with a brilliant smile on his face. The first thing Shikaku does is check for a genjutsu. Finding none, the second thing he does is run to his wife. 

“He’s dying,” he says, sliding into the doorway in much the same way their son does.

“Not quite, love,” his wife says, a laugh in her voice as he steps beside her. “He’s trying to teach his fish chakra control.”

“Fish? What fish?”

She waves vaguely in the direction of the window. Shikaku peeks out. 

Shikamaru’s got a bucket next to him. He keeps glancing towards it and, now that Shikaku’s looking, his son is talking to it. He goes through another kata. His back is to his parents so Shikaku can’t read his lips, but the boy’s shoulders move out of time with his breathing. 

He’s giving away clan secrets to a fish. 

“I got him a goldfish,” Yoshino explains. “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I guess I’ve been busy,” he mutters, watching as Shikamaru does a backflip. That’s not involved in any of the forms Shikaku’s taught him, but the boy follows it up by sticking his face into the bucket, shrieking in joy that he landed it. The water bubbles up and splashes around them, but Shikamaru picks up the bucket and dances around with it. It’s the happiest Shikaku’s ever seen his son when interacting with another living creature. Not even Choji can make the boy giggle like that. 

Usually, he keeps a pensive distance, as if the boy might transmit some disease if he gets too close. It took a full year for his parents to convince him to approach them again. It started with the dreams and now, three years post, he’s still hesitant around strangers.

“It’s just a normal goldfish?” Shikaku asks, frowning at his wife.

“Yup.”

“Does he know?”

“I told him,” she shrugs, going back to her calligraphy. “He’s convinced it’ll evolve. Like a pocket monster does.”

“The hell is a pocket monster?”

“I was hoping you’d know.”

“Huh,” he hums, glancing out the window one last time before walking back to the awning. He crosses the yard slowly. Shikamaru glances at him once, soaked and smiling, but goes right back to talking to the fish. He slides into another kata, explaining as he goes how the fish should mimic him with just fins. 

“Shikamaru,” he greets, nodding to the boy.

“Hey dad,” his son says back, still moving through the kata with childish precision.

“Why’s your pet out here with you? Shouldn’t he be in his tank?”

“Nah,” Shikamaru huffs, spinning too rapidly through another offensive stance. Shikaku uses his shadow to adjust his son’s footing ever so slightly. Shikamaru blinks down at his bare feet before smiling. “Thanks!”

“The fish, Shikamaru.”

“Reki likes to breathe,” his son shrugs. “Well, he likes to skateboard too but I don’t think fish are allowed to do that.”

Wisely, Shikaku does not ask what a skateboard is. "Reki-kun needs filtered water to breathe. So he has to stay in his tank.”

“But Mufasa likes it outside.”

Shikaku takes the change in stride. “I think Mufasa likes being alive more than he likes being outside. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Not me,” Shikamaru chirps, breaking his father’s heart in two. 

Shikaku takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he wheezes, “well, everyone has different preferences. There’s a hierarchy of needs, you see. While you may not focus primarily on survival, your fish does.”

“Dad, I don’t know what those words mean.” 

Right. He’s four.

…

Ensui watches his older brother from across the table.

He’s lived his whole life with Shikaku. The only thing that can make him look this haggard is his wolf of a wife and his rabbit of a son.

“You want a seal that’ll oxidize water?” Ensui summarizes. He takes care not to make his voice sound too judgemental, but the clan head just asked him to put aside all his other very important work for the village so his son’s fish won’t die. 

Shikaku nods sternly.

“Have you hit your head recently?” 

“Ensui, he’s training,” Shikaku urges. “He’s never done that before.” 

“He’s gonna be the clan heir and you haven’t trained him?” 

His older brother’s back straightens just enough for Ensui to know he’s lying. 

“I’ve been training him,” he says. Then adds, “trying to, at least.” 

The green eyed Nara hums. “Might be easier if you were around more.” 

It’s a low blow and Ensui knows it. He watches as Shikaku sighs, an uncomfortable heaviness weighing down his eyes. The village has been more than hectic lately. Between being clan head and the Hokage’s advisor, if Shikaku's not out on business he’s in his office. Rumors are circulating about harsher sanctions on the clans. Everyone is blaming the Uchiha. 

“I’m aware,” he says tightly. 

Ensui narrows his eyes. “Then you should be aware that as the village’s current best sealer, I can’t exactly table my other responsibilities for your son’s fish.” 

“Please,” his older brother says, a softness there he hasn’t heard in a long time. “With what’s going on with the Uchiha there is no way for me to be home any longer than I already am.” He’s quiet for a moment, Ensui already hates where this is going, but can’t bring himself to stop it. “I want to give Shikamaru the life we weren’t allowed to have,” Shikaku says, brown eyes locking on to green. “Father wasn’t…” 

Ensui jerks his eyes away and Shikaku stops his plea. The two brothers sit in silence for a moment. The old scars on Ensui’s arms are burning like new again. 

He takes a deep breath. “So you want to be a good dad?”

His brother nods. 

“Fuck you for going there,” he scoffs, standing up from the table. “You better be a great fucking dad. Amazing even. Better than our old man, at least.”

“I’m trying,” Shikaku says. Ensui hates how earnest he sounds. 

“...I’ll see what I can do. Might make a good birthday gift for the brat.” 

Before Ensui can storm out of his brother’s office Shikaku catches his hand. He glances down, the clan head still seated on the tatame. 

Thank you, Shikaku’s eyes say. They’re the same eyes their father had. 

“...Shut up,” Ensui murmurs. He jerks his hand out of his brother’s grasp and goes.

On his way out he ruffles Shikamaru’s hair. His nephew smiles up at him and tells him what time the sun is going to set. 

The kid was sitting at the dining room table with his fish. 

Chapter Text

Naruto ducks into an alley and tries to breathe. 

It’s hard. No matter what he does he can’t seem to get his lungs to work. His throat feels raw and painful as he gulps in breaths as quietly as possible. 

He already knew everyone hated him. He’s used to that. 

He’s not used to being attacked for it. 

The man came out of nowhere. One second Naruto’s window shopping in the part of town that doesn’t usually bother him and the next a bottle is whizzing past his ear. The gross smelling liquid inside splashes on him and the glass shatters on the street-- razor-sharp pieces scraping his shins. Naruto turned around, livid and ready to give the man a pummeling but- 

He was so big.  

Naruto knows he’s shorter than his classmates at the academy. He knows he’s smaller than the adults around him but he’s never been scared because of it. Lots of ninja are small! That’s never stopped them before! 

But Naruto, in that instant, was reminded that he’s not a ninja. He’s not a ninja and there’s a very large, very angry man with a red face stumbling towards him slurring words the boy can’t make out because his heart is pounding so loud in his ears because he’s scared. 

Naruto is not used to being scared. 

There’s a split second between locking eyes with the man and running away that Naruto thinks he’ll never forget. 

He leans against the rough stone wall of the alley, trying to will the hatred in that man’s eyes out of his mind. It’s too tall of an order, apparently, because every time he blinks glaring brown eyes flash in the dark. Brown eyes with a hatred so deep Naruto can feel as it sinks down from his mind’s eye to settle heavy in his stomach. 

His naval burns with it--the fear and confusion--and in his mind those hateful brown eyes slowly bleed into red. 

The pupils grow slitted and it feels like his worst nightmares are coming true as red eyes glare at him. Sharp teeth snap and growl and suddenly Naruto feels like he’s trudging through water and all he can do is-- 

“Watch out-!”

The growling cuts off. There’s a ringing in his ears and his vision whites out for what feels like an hour. When he manages to pry his eyes open again, instead of the grimey floor of the alleyway there’s a boy he doesn’t recognize and blue skies.

“Hi,” the kid says. He’s got massive mossy eyes and weird little splotches all over his face and arms. 

“Hi,” Naruto croaks back.

The kid smiles and grabs for Naruto’s hands. He hefts him up and Naruto stumbles, blinking at the bright look on the kid’s face. 

In a hurry, Naruto snaps his hands away from the weird kid. He brushes the dirt stuck to his jacket off as he side-eyes the stranger. 

“Sorry about that,” the splotchy kid says. “This is a good alley for dumpster diving. The thrift shop next door always throws away the coolest stuff.” 

He points to the large pile of trash behind Naruto. 

“I was trying to land there, but then I saw you and over thought it. I kinda hit the one thing I shouldn’t’ve. Sorry. I thought I killed you for a second there. Glad I didn’t.” 

“S’cool,” Naruto sniffs, looking at the pile of trash behind him as he rubs the lump on the back of his head. There’s what looks to be a manikin arm sticking out of one bag. Her head is pressed tight against the black plastic of another bag, staring at them. It makes Naruto shiver. He didn’t realize he was being watched.

The silence between them grows awkward. 

“Um,” the splotchy kid starts, wringing his hands and casting longing looks at the trash pile. “I’m looking for a jar.” 

“A jar?” 

“Yeah. For a fish.”

Naruto blinks. “Don’t fish live in the lake?”

“I have my own,” the kid says, proud. “He lives in a bucket right now. My dad says he has to live in his tank but I’m not strong enough to carry that around.”

Naruto blinks again. You can have your own fish? Like from the supermarket? 

“Are you going to eat him?” Naruto squints. 

The kid stops for a moment, contemplative. “No,” he says after a pause, “I mean, he’s not very big anyway. If I were in an emergency I don’t think Goku would provide many calories. His companionship is much more valuable.” 

“What are calories?” 

“4.18-something joules. I can’t remember the exact number.”

“Uh,” Naruto’s head starts to hurt in a different place. He’s never been good with numbers. “Okay?” 

There’s another pause between them. Naruto’s not very good with words and the boy doesn’t seem all that interested in him. In fact, the kid looks a lot more interested in the garbage than anything else. 

“Okay,” the kid says finally, flashing Naruto a smile that’s a bit too teeth-y to be genuine. “Good-bye then.” 

Naruto’s only halfway through stammering out a reply by the time the kid’s elbow deep in a leaking trash bag. He cringes at the sound his rummaging makes before considering this entire interaction pointless. 

Naruto huffs and stomps out of the alleyway. 

He’s hungry anyway. 

Maybe Teuchi-san will give him a free bowl of ramen again.

Chapter Text

Shikaku gets poked in the cheek.

“Dad.”

A tug on his blanket.

“Hey. Dad.”

Another poke. 

“Wake up. Dad.”

After about ten minutes of Shikamaru tugging on their blankets and whispering in his father’s ear, Yoshino sits up just long enough to stiff arm her husband out of the bed. Shikaku clatters to the ground with a yelp and no grace, but manages to take the blankets with him. Yoshino tucks her head under the pillow and goes back to sleep, leaving her husband to deal with their son.

“What is it, Shikamaru?” He wheezes, blinking the dreariness out of his eyes as he squints up at the boy. Shikamaru’s standing at the side of his parent’s bed, dressed in black with a backpack on his shoulder. The boy stares down at him, unphased by his father’s fall. He must be used to it.

“I’m running away," he says. 

“Run away in the morning,” Shikaku yawns. “That way Mom and I can say proper goodbye.”

“I can’t wait that long,” the boy urges, tugging on his father’s blankets. Shikaku loves his son very much but he does not let him take his blankets. Not even Yoshino gets Shikaku’s blankets. “I might eat you.”

Shikaku sighs, long and drawn out, before he props himself up. 

Shikamaru’s tall as a weed and just as gangly, so even when sitting upright father has to look up at son. The boy shuffles his feet, looking determined as his hands clutch his backpack for dear life. 

“How about we go watch Magic Mike instead?” 

Shikamaru can sit for hours just watching his fish. Shikaku is a little jealous that Yoshino figured out a way to keep their son in one place before he did. 

“I have him with me,” the boy says and reaches for the backpack. He unhooks their neighbor’s old tea kettle, the one they threw away two months ago that Shikamaru must have fished out of the garbage, and opens the lid to show his father. He points with the lid, showing his father exactly where his fish is. “See? Magic Mike is coming with me. We’re going to the coast.”

Shikaku squints into the dark kettle. His night vision is pretty good, but even he has trouble seeing the black goldfish swim circles in the black kettle. 

Shikamaru’s been blessed with abilities most ninja take years to master and he uses it to track goldfish. This is karma, clearly, for giving his own father such a hard time growing up. Now he’s got his own son who wants nothing to do with the shinobi arts. Ah, the circle of life. 

Shikaku gives up on trying to spy the goldfish and blinks at his son. “Why the coast?”

“I wanna see the ocean,” Shikamaru shrugs, closing the kettle and hooking it back onto his backpack. “I think I’m going to invent surfing. Someone has to.”

“Can’t you invent something closer to home?” Shikaku asks. “Tell you what, if you put all of your gear away and go to bed, I’ll take you to see Choji in the morning and you two can invent surfing in the reservoirs.”

The boy pouts and kicks at his father’s foot. “The reservoirs don’t have waves, dad.”

“Bud,” Shikaku groans, “please. Run away when the sun is up at least. For your mother’s sake.” 

“But-”

“Bud.” 

Shikamaru does a sort of shimmy. His bare feet tapping on the floor in rapid succession. The movement makes his pack shift and jingle with whatever garbage Shikaku’s son must’ve put in it. 

“But,” he starts again, quieter this time, “I… I don’t want to hurt you.” 

And Shikaku’s heart breaks. 

He reaches out, taking his son by the back of the neck and pressing him into his chest. Shikamaru’s arms stay by his side, but he doesn’t fight his father away like he used to. The memory of Shikamaru’s first runaway attempt slides into his mind, stabbing at lungs like glass. It’s hard to breathe for a moment-- Shikaku’s palms are sweaty with nerves only his son seems to elicit-- but then Shikamaru presses ear against his father’s heart. Shikaku inhales and calms the rapid beating. Shikamaru’s shoulders slump forward, listening. 

This isn’t the first time Shikamaru’s awoken from a bad dream and it won’t be the last. His son has very few tells for when he’s being serious about running away. Each time, Shikaku can only hope that next time it happens, he’ll be kind enough to say goodbye-- to give his family the chance to talk him down. He always does. Sometimes he’s easier to convince than others, but… that first time-- well, Shikaku doesn’t like to think about that first time. 

Shikamaru was gone for nearly five days, and when he said his goodbyes Shikaku had just waved him off, thinking the whole thing was a joke. 

Shikamaru bit him when he found him. He bit and cried and scratched. He begged and pleaded and swore he would hate the man forever if he took him back. 

Shikaku took him back, passed out from exhaustion and dehydration. 

The boy woke up fifteen hours later like nothing ever happened. 

Shikamaru lets his father slide the backpack off his shoulders. He also lets him pull him up and into the bed. Yoshina throws an arm over him and Shikamaru curls into her side. Shikaku puts the teapot on the nightstand and pulls the blankets over the three of them.   

He doesn’t sleep much after that-- one hand steady on his boy’s boy, feeling as his lungs expand with each gentle breath. 

Chapter Text

Shikaku loves his family very much. 

His wife is responsible and knowing. She’s thoughtful and caring in a way he’s never been. She guides him to be a better person just by existing, and she can pull him back together just as easily as she can pick him apart. Before her, Shikaku never met someone who would use that skill to help rather than torture him. He loves her dearly.

Their son is brilliant and earnest. He's a gentle soul in a manner neither of his parents are, inquisitive and passionate and sensitive to the suffering of others. He fills their home with laughter and love, something Shikaku didn't know he was lacking until Shikamaru was born. His son is the single brightest thing in this life. He loves him.

Shikaku loves his family very much. He wants the best for them, whatever that may be. 

As it turns out, however, his son’s idea of the best is not compatible with anyone else’s. 

“Why do I have to be a shinobi to learn this stuff?” he frowns. He’s only just turned five, so the expression looks more like a pout on his freckled face. “Why can’t I just be me?” 

Beside her husband, Yoshino’s frown looks like a frown. “I thought you’d be excited about training. Attending the academy means you’ll get to meet more kids your age and learn about chakra.”

"I want to learn about chakra, but I don’t know if I want to be a ninja.”

His son is going to be a ninja, whether he wants to or not. He’s too squirmy to survive otherwise, determined as he is to get as far away from them as physically possible. Yoshino claims he’s getting easier to manage, but Shikaku worries. There’s plenty of people out there who would jump at the chance to snatch a wayward Nara boy up. The Nara clan isn’t widely feared, but they are known. Shikaku himself is rather well known, close to the Hokage as he is. 

After the Hyuga incident six months ago, when their heir was captured by Kumo and held for nearly four days without food or water… Shikaku worries. He worries for his son, who no matter how hard they try seems able to sneak off outside the walls and into some mess or another. It’s only a matter of time, now, that Shikamaru runs into someone who isn’t so endeared to him. 

Shikaku has gone over his options. He’s come to the troubling realization that it would be easier to train his son to protect himself than to teach him to love them enough not to leave. He has not told Yoshino of this, but he suspects she already knows. Yoshino, after all, knows their son much better than Shikaku does. 

He leans an elbow on the table, gathering his son’s attention. “You don’t have to make that decision now, but becoming a shinobi is expected of you as my son.”

The look Shikamaru meets him with tells Shikaku he couldn't care less about what was expected of him.

“Does everyone who learns about chakra have to be a ninja? What if they’re an architect?”

“You want to be an architect?”

His son shrugs. “Maybe? I’m only five, dad. I can hardly read.” 

Shikaku deliberately casts a long look at the bookshelf on the far wall. It’s disorganized in a way Yoshino has never accepted but has grown used to and there's short stacks of dog eared books on the lower levels. His son was a menace and he’s been devouring books left and right lately. 

“If you’re going to lie, be more convincing.”

“Maybe I just look at the pictures-” Shikamaru narrows his eyes. “You’re avoiding my question. Why do people have to be ninjas to learn about chakra?”

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Chakra has dangerous uses. It has a lot of potential to hurt its user, so the knowledge required to manipulate it is highly coveted.” 

“But it has to have other uses, right?” he says, a furrow between his brows. Shikamaru looks like him, Shikaku realizes then, and it’s almost shameful how much pride swells in his chest at the notion.

Shikaku raises an eyebrow and refuses to bite that hook.

Shikamaru huffs, no doubt piqued by his lack of engagement. “Why do people throw fireballs at each other instead of watering their crops? The east plantations are going through a drought right now and they can’t afford to hire ninja. If they knew how to pull water from the air wouldn’t that fix everything?”

Shikaku wisely does not ask how his son knows this about the countryside. Suspecting that his son was escaping Konoha’s walls was one thing, knowing for a fact that he was meant Shikaku had to put an end to it. He would, but not right now. 

“First, that’s a short sighted solution and you know it. Second, pulling water from the air also means you can pull it from a person. That’s dangerous knowledge to spread readily. The people trained to use chakra are soldiers who will use that power responsibly.”

“Chefs use knives. They’re probably better at it than most ninja. They don’t go around killing people in their free time.” He counters, the pout back on his face, “and of course it’s short sighted- they need a solution now, not in twenty years, dad.”

Yoshino places her cup of tea on the table with a small clink. Both father and son straighten their backs. 

“This is clearly a complex issue,” Yoshino says, putting an end to the debate before it can take root. By the look on their son’s face, it already has, but it was worth a try. “Let’s focus on today. Today, you get to decide whether or not you want to attend the academy and learn about chakra.”

“I still don’t get why I can’t do that somewhere else,” he shrugs, “like in a chakra school instead of ninja school. I’d rather learn about chakra as just a thing that exists than a weapon.”

Shikaku is reminded that Orochimaru said something similar, years ago. Minato had just become Hokage and the three men were in his office. Orochimaru had claimed no interest in running missions, instead focusing on his research. “As it stands,” he said to the young Jounin Commander and the younger Hokage, “I’m much more interested in chakra as a science than as a means to destroy.” The snake sannin went on to perform hundreds of grotesque procedures on innocent men, women, and children. 

With the money they gave him.

“Only ninja school exists today, Shikamaru.” His wife knows how to debate their son much better than Shikaku does. She pulls him from the hypothetical and into the present with a practiced method. Today. Focus on today so you can fix yesterday and bring tomorrow. Shikaku finds himself dwelling on the past, while his son is busy dreaming up the future. “Would you like to join?”

The boy’s face scrunches up. “Will Choji be there?”

“Yes, he got to decide on his fifth birthday. Just like you are now.”

“Will Ino?”

“Yes,” Yoshino huffs out a laugh. Shikamaru and Ino haven’t been getting along lately and it showed in how sour the boy’s tone had turned. Their relationship tends to turn on a dime. Shikaku doesn’t remember ever fighting with Inoichi in such a fierce manner. “She decided well before her birthday. Her parents and her are probably discussing the details of her attendance.”

Shikaku watches his son tumble through his options. He doesn't have Shikaku’s diamond hand sign tell, though he had taught it to the boy, but he has his own signs of being deep in thought. Mainly, the way his eyes unfocus as he stares, and the way his hands twitch as if they want to press together, but he won't let them. 

His son is stoutly determined to not be like him. He's not sure when the abrasive edge to their relationship formed, probably during one of the many, many nights he spent in the Hokage office instead of the clan lands, but it's here and now Shikaku has to deal with it. Yoshino has a great relationship with their son. Shikaku… feels like Shikamaru doesn't know him. It's troubling. So much about this kid is troubling. 

“I'm not happy about it,” their son says finally, looking at his mother. “But okay.” 

Yoshino grabs his hand under the table and squeezes. Shikaku lets out a breath he barely registered holding. 

Slow and steady. The academy will ease him into the shinobi lifestyle and Shikamaru will learn to protect himself-- how to survive in this cruel world of theirs. Once he's a genin they'll be able to move forward with the issue of his heirship. Shikamaru already understands that he, by nature of being Shikaku’s son, has certain responsibilities. Making him acknowledge and pursue those responsibilities is another thing entirely. It'll be a long process, but it'll keep him safe and in the village. 

Hopefully, he'll even make some friends. 

Haruno Sakura is very grateful to have a friend like Ino.

Ino is pretty and smart and nice enough to share tips on how to be a great ninja one day. Sakura doesn’t know if she’ll make a great ninja one day, since the pink haired girl has always been much better at reading than fighting, but she knows for certain that Ino will be very strong. Ino has been nothing but nice and helpful, if a bit pushy, since they met at the beginning of the school year five months ago. Ino stood up for her against a few bullies, and even gave her a ribbon to tie her hair with. Sakura has no reason to doubt her friend, who has been nothing but a great friend since they met. Well… almost no reason. 

There is one thing. 

“Shikamaru? What are you doing?”

“Having a midlife crisis.”

Ino is friends with Nara Shikamaru. And Nara Shikamaru is… weird.

“We’re five,” she says and crouches down. Shikamaru’s in the process of burying his head in the ground, so his words came out a bit muffled. “I don’t think that’s mid-life.”

“Maybe for you,” he says through a mouthful of dirt. 

Sakura waits for him to stop choking on it before she replies. “I’m going to tell Ino you’re trying to bury yourself alive again if you don’t start making sense.”

Shikamaru’s head pops up and Sakura cringes at the dirt collected at his scalp.

“If I jump in this hole will you bury me?”

Sakura turns over her shoulder. “Ino! Shikarmaru’s gone crazy again!”

“Shi-ka-ma-ru!” Ino yells, drawing his name out as she sprints over. “Stop trying to kill yourself!”

“I wasn’t!” he yells defensively. “I was just going to bury myself in a hole! That can’t kill me.”

“Being buried alive can actually kill you,” Sakura corrects. “You can’t breathe underground. There’s no air.”

“Don’t worry,” Shikamaru beams at her determinedly, which only makes Sakura worry more. “I’ll use chakra to breathe in my own carbon dioxide and convert it back to oxygen. Like moles do!”

“...I don’t think that’s how chakra works. Or moles.”

“Won’t know until I try!” He shouts and sticks his head into the hole. 

Ino grabs him by the ponytail and yanks him back out. 

“I can’t leave you alone for one minute!”

“Ow! Ino let go-”

“Stop trying to kill yourself!” She repeats and Sakura cringes at the force she uses to pull Shikamaru away from the hole. By his hair, no less. “My dad would kill me if you died on my watch!”

Shikamaru reaches behind him, swinging his hands wildly in Ino’s direction. By sheer luck, Ino’s grip is hit with a sound smack and she lets go. The boy ducks away from her next grab, crouching with his hands flat on the earth to leverage himself up and kick Ino in the stomach. 

The two exchange elbows and knees and kicks and shoves for the longest minute Sakura’s ever lived. She sits crouched, watching as the two clan children wrestle with a mix of unfamiliar kata and instinct. It makes her stomach twist, seeing them fight. Iruka-sensei explained that they aren’t allowed to use their clan techniques or fighting styles in group training, but… watching Ino grapple Shikamaru, going to toss him over her shoulder just for him to twist and flip off her own back… Sakura feels something akin to shame pool in her stomach. She’s jealous. Fiercely so. They’ve only just started training and they’re so much further ahead.

“Ha!” Ino shouts through a pant, one hand pressing Shikamaru’s shoulders to the ground and the other winding his arm behind his back at an uncomfortable looking angle. “Pinned you!” 

Sakura glances over at their sensei, but Iruka-sensei is so busy keeping Naruto and Kiba from fighting that he didn't even notice their scuffle. By the time she glances back Ino is seated proudly on his back and Shikamaru grumbles half-heartedly into the dirt. 

“What was that?” She demands, leaning her weight off his shoulders just a tad. 

Shikamaru pops upright and Ino tumbles off him with a shriek. 

“I said I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” he repeats, glaring at her. “I’m way over that phase.”

Ino looks less than impressed.

Sakura looks between them and feels a bit like she’s missing something. 

“Um,” she starts cautiously, “were you trying to kill yourself?”

“Hm? No, no, I was trying to enter a near death state to return to my old world, you feel? I figured if I got close enough to death that the universe would see their mistake and fix it. Maybe even send me back to--” 

Ino smacks his dirty scalp. “You’re not allowed to! Planet stupid already closed its gate so quit trying to go back!”

“I’m not from planet stupid!”

“You sure act like it…” Sakura mutters, looking at the head-shaped hole in the ground. 

“Sakura-chan!” Shikamaru gasps, looking wounded. 

“You’re weird,” She shrugs, well versed in the Nara’s wounded looks. They don’t phase her anymore. “Are you still trying to, um, not kill yourself?”

“Nah,” Shikamaru says, flopping back into the grass. “My theory was too flawed. There’s just too much junk out there to capture attention, and even then, due to the balance of things, taking me out of this life might be more detrimental than keeping me, regardless of whether I belong or not. Equilibriums are not so easily broken, especially on a scale as grand as this. In the grand scheme of things I’m just one grain of sand on the beach of the universe.”

Sakura bites her lip. She knows that Shikamaru is smart, both because Ino said so and Sakura knows he reads just as much as she does. Sakura is also pretty smart, her parents say so, and Ino agrees. Still, she really can’t grasp what Shikamaru is trying to say here. Was he trying to capture the attention of the universe? Is the universe sentient in this situation? Were these all hypotheticals? 

“I, um,” she starts, worrying her lip in the way her mother usually scolds her for, “I don’t think I understand.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“Hey,” Ino snaps, “be nice to Sakura-chan, she’s trying to sympathize with you.”

Shikamaru’s face scrunches and seems to be displeased by the notion. A part of Sakura wants to shrink down and apologize, but Ino holds his gaze. Sakura isn’t trying to sympathize so much as she’s trying to appease Ino, but she’s not going to correct her friend’s misunderstanding. Especially not after Ino stood up for her again. 

After a tense silence, Shikamaru turns away, looking up at the sky instead. He sits for a moment, eyes strewn shut and visibly wrestling with whatever’s going on in his head.

“Think of it as like, hm, like a shogi piece, sort of?” he tries, actively searching for the words that would make them understand. “If you lose one and don’t have a replacement, you might carve a new one as a temporary piece. But then you get used to it, and when you get the chance to buy a proper replacement you just… don’t. I mean, it’s not a perfect fit but it’s good enough, so why bother changing it out after all that time?”

Sakura feels her eyebrows raise up and into her hairline. “Are you the shogi replacement?” 

“Yes,” he nods, “and I am making peace with that. Sort of.”

“Are you, like, adopted?”

“What? No, why would you--” 

“Then why are you a replacement?” She asks, bewildered. At Shikamaru’s mirrored look of bewilderment, Sakura feels her words catch up to her. Her face is beat red as she stammers. “Not that adoption is, um, replacing, but in clans I heard, well, if a child is lost they, well, um, you know what I mean.”

That Shikamaru doesn’t seem offended is the only reason Sakura doesn’t bury herself in the half-dug hole. Instead, he seems just as displeased as before. Sakura gets the impression he doesn’t like explaining himself. 

“I’m a replacement for the universe not my-” Shikamaru cuts himself off and groans, gesturing from Ino to Sakura. “See? This is why I don’t bother.”

“I’m your best friend and I don’t understand you,” Ino stands up, brushing dirt off her dress. She holds a hand out to Shikamaru and hefts him up. “Sakura is smart, so I thought if anyone could make sense of your baloney she could.”

“My existentialism is not baloney.”

“Baloney,” Ino asserts and Sakura steps up to walk with her. “Any time you use a word that I don’t know I just assume it’s baloney.” 

“That’s a terrible strategy.”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about strategy. Remember our shogi match?”

“That’s different!” he whines, kicking a rock as they meander back towards the entrance. “I keep forgetting about captured pieces! It’s really similar to chess but it has so many extra rules!” 

Ino actually seems to consider this. She taps her chin in thought before grinning at him, a light bulb above her head. 

“Maybe you're the reincarnation of a really old man! Maybe you were born before all the new rules were added. That would explain why you think it’s called chess.”

“I don’t know enough about the history of shogi to confirm or deny,” Shikamaru admits, for some reason not thinking the suggestion is as absolutely insane as it sounds, “but I guess it’s worth looking into.”

“Do you two play shogi a lot?” Sakura asks. She doesn’t know how to play, but her dad has offered to teach her before. Maybe if they had more in common Ino would invite her over to play? 

Ino turns her smile to her, laughing. “Shikamaru’s dad likes it a lot, but Shikamaru isn’t any good yet. He keeps forgetting the rules, so he makes me play him when I come over.”

“Ino’s my practice dummy,” Shikamaru says plainly, ducking under the punch Ino throws at him for such a comment. “It makes for good exposure therapy. Plus, it’s interesting to see what the average mind is capable of.” 

“Who are you calling average!?” 

“Shikamaru! Ino!” Iruka-sensei shouts, cutting off Shikamaru’s reply. “To your seats. Now.” 

The two glance at each other before scurrying off to their places on opposite sides of the room. Iruka-sensei separated them within the first week of classes. Privately, Sakura is grateful her time with Shikamaru is cut back because of it. She only has to interact with him during recess and demonstration-based classes, when Ino insists on comparing their ability at any given skill. 

“Ugh. What a butthole,” Ino grumbles, ignoring how Kiba giggles at the insult as they pass. “He’s so mean sometimes.”

Sakura settles beside her on the bench and casts a worried look across the room. 

The Nara sits on the window side of the class beside Choji, an Uchiha boy named Sasuke who was particularly talented, and Sasuke’s cousin Kota, who was not as talented. Sakura and Ino, meanwhile, sit next to Kiba, who always has his dog with him, and a quiet boy who Sakura was never introduced to, but who always seems to be buzzing. 

Shikamaru, for all that he bothers Ino, looks like he’s already moved past their spat. He’s now trying to ignore Kota as he brags about something or another, huddling into Choji’s side as the bigger boy eats his post-recess snack. 

“Is he?” she asks, blinking at what looks like a boy trying to be something close to polite. She’s curious, but she doesn’t want to step on her friend’s toes. Ino had called Shikamaru her best friend… Sakura doesn’t like Shikamaru, but she doesn’t want to make any more snap judgments. They’ve gotten her in trouble before. 

Ino rolls her eyes. She does that a lot. 

“Trust me, Shikamaru’s mean. He tries to be nice, but I don’t think it comes naturally to him. He just does his own thing whether we want him to or not.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like-” she stops herself short, biting the inside of her cheek. Ino’s eyes snap to Sakura’s and she tries not to wilt under how intense her gaze is. Ino and Shikamaru don’t have a ton in common, but they both wield an intimidating aura of self-assuredness. It sets them apart from the others, but it seems so ingrained in their character that Sakura doubts they even know the sway they have over the class. How everyone seems to gravitate to them, bending over backwards to impress. Like Kota, looking for Shikamaru’s approval. And like Sakura, already devoting herself to be someone worthy of rivaling Ino. 

“Never mind,” she grumbles.

Sakura frowns and lowers her voice to a whisper as Iruka begins his lesson. “Like what?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” 

“About Shikamaru?” 

“About what he does,” Ino hisses, her face pinched, “I told you-- he’s mean.” 

Shikamaru doesn’t seem to be the type to kick puppies or push people into puddles. Sakura’s seen him spend a whole break period carefully gathering waterlogged worms off the sidewalks after a particularly rainy day. He trades the parts of his lunch he doesn’t like, and he’s never made fun of someone for how they look or talk. She’s also seen him exchange greetings with Naruto, who is loud, annoying, and slower to pick things up than the rest of them. 

To Sakura’s eyes, Shikamaru is just a little weird. He’s strange, sure, but Sakura wouldn’t say he’s hurting anyone. Even the troubling conversation about him, um, attempting a near death state seemed like a misunderstanding more than anything else. 

Maybe it’s because Ino and Shikamaru knew each other for so long? She can’t imagine Ino lying--not to Sakura, at least--but she also can’t imagine Shikamaru going out of his way to be cruel. Maybe-

Ino elbows her side and Sakura snaps upright, grabbing for a pencil and pretending to write a note down. Iruka-sensei narrows his eyes at them but continues his explanation on the village history nonetheless. 

She decides, a cold sweat on her neck from Iruka’s glare, that musing about Shikamaru can wait. She’s got to close the gap between Ino and her before she worries about anything as silly as boys. 

Once she’s a great ninja, she’ll just make Shikamaru apologize to Ino. Whatever he did can’t have been too bad, and when she’s stronger than him he’ll listen to what she says and do what she tells him to. Plus, she’ll be an awesome ninja and Ino and her can hang out more because Ino, obviously, will also be an awesome ninja. 

Sakura tunes back into the lecture with a new determination. 

Watch out world, Haruno Sakura is here.