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Shikaku was going on a date. It was just a date, nothing new. Yep, just a normal Saturday and a normal date.
He was completely calm. It was fine.
How many times did the council make him go on one of these? He should be an expert by now. And they were really pedantic about it; as soon as he was back from a mission, there would be a new circle on the calendar the day after. Their accuracy was scary, he shivered while remembering. They somehow knew when he was going to be back better than him…
Honestly, they made such a drag out of it - all because Shikaku messed around with guys from time to time, while they completely ignored his pretty equal thirst for women. Shikaku would rather take a kunai to both of his ass cheeks and be forced to sit on them than have that conversation again.
No, he did not only like men, he was bi. Yes, he knew what his duties as clan head were. No, it was not just a phase. What did they mean when they asked if he was a top? (On the last question he chose to play dumb, because really - what the hell did that have to do with anything?)
He was pretty sure that there were more bi shinobi than straight and gay/lesbian ones combined. Nevertheless, he was getting off track; the date had to be his primary focus. First date in a long time that he actually wanted to go on.
Shikaku paced the room, checked himself in the mirror, and went back to pacing.
He looked fine. His hair was up in his signature ponytail, black earrings on, paired with a necklace that had a small deer pendant in the middle. The perfect mix of casual and fancy was how he would describe his clothes. Accents of green and black with subtle embroidery that spoke of high-quality material adorned his outfit.
He even shaved! Well - not completely, but his beard now made him look sharp.
The front door slid open, which made him pause. It was not his date since they agreed that he’d pick her up and they'd go to that restaurant he made reservations at… Kami, did he make reservations? Fuck. He thought he did? Shikaku felt a knot, which had been present in his gut since Wednesday, slowly rising up to his throat and - !
“Shikaku, you look like you just ate some shit and are about to throw up. What's wrong?”
Ah, Inoichi, he should have known that the only person to unabashedly invade his home whenever he pleased would choose now of all times to do so again.
“I'm busy, get out,” he grunted, after swallowing down his anxiety. His clothes were safe… for now. Inoichi rolled his eyes, clearly unbothered by his rude greeting, and stepped to the side.
Lo and behold, when there was trouble, it came in double.
“Inoichi, do you hear that? Our team leader is so busy puking all over his date-ready outfit that he's throwing his oldest friends out.” Chōza said as he stepped in a moment after Inoichi.
“The audacity! And we just wanted to make sure he was doing okay. You know that behind that big and scary demeanor he is, oh, so sensitive.”
Chōza put one hand on his heart and mimicked flicking away a tear with the other. “Right, an old and fragile soul. I knew that from the moment he cried after getting that limited edition shogi board.”
Of course he did! It had been the loveliest shogi board he’d ever seen. It was green and brown, made out of dark and burgundy wood, and could be folded and carried wherever he wanted and -
“I remember that! What did he say? Something about the woodwork and color being beautiful? It sounded completely ordinary to me, but to be fair, I could not understand him all that well through all the tears and, ugh, snot....” Inoichi ended the sentence with a gagging sound.
Shikaku glared at them. They innocently stared back.
So that was it, Shikaku was going to kill them. Firstly, he'd carefully get out of his fancy clothes and then strangle them while still in his underwear - to cause maximum psychological damage. Perhaps a bit brutish, but it had to be done.
Just as he was about to carry out his nudist attack plan, he noticed the basket they were carrying with them. It had fruit, some flowers, and paper? No, those were letters, but containing what exactly, was the question…
“Ah, so you finally noticed. I was afraid that my shogi board comment was going to be fatal from the look that you gave me,” said Inoichi. Shikaku chose not to say anything in response.
“Inoichi and I knew you were going to be stressed out, so we prepared a little gift basket for you.” Shikaku took the said basket from Chōza and led them to the living room table. As they all sat cross-legged on the cushions, Shikaku examined the basket.
“I already got her flowers…” They were… somewhere in the house? Ah, yes, in the vase.
“I know, these are fresher though, and I have a feeling she’d like these.” Inoichi was right, they did look lovely; besides Shikaku saw no merit in arguing about flowers with the flower guy. And he was pretty sure he forgot to put water in the vase with his own flowers.
Shikaku rummaged through the basket, stopping at the letters. Were they? No, it couldn't be? How the hell did his teammates read him so well? Was he that obvious? As he thought that, his expression must have done something because both Inoichi and Chōza laughed at him. Right, putting aside his terrible poker face, he had to confirm something.
“...How did you know I messed up the reservations?”
“Really, Shikaku? It's you, of course you messed up when it's something as mundane as restaurant reservations.” He was about to protest at that, since it was pure crap, but Inoichi continued on, “Honestly, you can destroy a whole camp of Iwa-nin without blinking but can barely put your sandals on because of a hot kunoichi.”
Shikaku's previous protests died in his throat, only to be replaced by new ones not even a second later.
“She’s strong and competent, not just hot,” and could easily break Shikaku’s spine and fix him up a second later.
He’ll never forget how she picked him up with one arm when they were being chased and threw him onto the enemy. At first he was furious - that she would sacrifice him like that, but when he looked back at her, she had already slit the throats of three of them with a scary chakra scalpel jutsu. He got up, killed the one who was aiming for her blind spot and asked her out then and there. She smiled, healed a small cut on his face, and said, “Sure.”
He was so surprised that she actually said yes - they only settled for a date when they got back to Konoha. Well… settled was a nicer way of putting it. Truth was, they saw each other on the street, and she came up to him and said something along the lines of: “You, me, lunch on Saturday, pick me up at one - wear something nice.” Then she winked and walked away, leaving him completely flustered, jaw on the floor.
Chōza and Inoichi exchanged a look before the former opened his mouth. “Oh wow, you're gone gone.”
…What? Oh, Shikaku had said all of that out loud, hadn't he. Whatever. He grumbled and went to see what else was in the basket, which was mostly just more fruit. Probably sensing the shift in his mood, Chōza put a warm, steady hand on his shoulder and reassured him.
“Shikaku, don't worry. Just be yourself and ask her about herself before going on a tangent about shogi and deer.”
These were the topics he used when he wanted to bore the other dates that his clan set up for him, so he wasn't sure that was a good idea. Yoshino was smart and fierce, so he was sure she'd let him know if he was being dull. Still, he did not want to bore her at all if he could help it.
“Are you sure? Everyone else is bored by that.”
“Well, of course they are, but from what you said, she seems like she'd make fun of you for it, and you would absolutely love that.” Inoichi said - casually spewing nonsense as he often did.
Before he could refute that slander, Chōza doubled down. “Yeah, you like to be bullied.”
No, he did not. “I like banter,” he spluttered. And maybe being bossed around a bit, but that was it. Nothing strange.
“Mhm, you call it that all you want.”
“…You guys suck.”
Inoichi's eyebrow quirked up. “We suck so much that we made reservations for you, picked fresh flowers, and bought that cologne you like - but never seem to have time to buy.”
Shikaku perked up at that, he loved that cologne. Was it in the basket? The knowing look his teammates gave him made him pause. They were troublesome but also the best people he knew. He shook his head lightly and looked back up at them, gaze earnest and steady. “Thank you, really.”
They simply grinned at him in response.
Inoichi got up and extended his hand. “Come on, you'll be late at this rate. I’ll straighten out your clothes, and we'll go over what not to say in the first five minutes.”
Shikaku took it and followed him up, confused by the five-minute script he was supposed to suddenly remember.
Chōza answered his unasked question. “Yeah, if she survives five minutes, that makes it likely that she also has something wrong in her brian, and then you can say what you want.”
Shikaku just sighed at that. His team came to help and if that meant tanking a few insults then so be it. He let himself be fussed at by the two of them for a bit and finally went to the front door, flowers in hand, reservation in pocket.
Even the script did not end up being too difficult. The main consensus was to compliment whatever she wore but in a way that was not creepy or objectifying. At the end Shikaku was slightly offended that they thought he was that big of a lost case. Okay, to be fair, he did do something similar before, but that was because he actively wanted to get kicked to the curb.
“Wait! Don’t forget to give her this.” Chōza handed him the other letter that was in the basket.
Now that Shikaku thought about it, half of the things in that thing made no sense. What use did he have for a bunch of fruit and two reservations? Did each of them need one to sit in the restaurant - that seemed a bit nonsensical. Besides, the envelopes didn't even match; the new one was green and the first one white. Wait, was he supposed to bring the fruit with -
“Give it to her at the end of the date if you think it went well.” Inoichi said with a final look over, promptly ending his inner monologue.
Shikaku nodded and put the green envelope in his breast pocket, not really caring what was inside, and turned to leave. If he trusted InoShikaChō in battle, he would trust them with ink and paper as well. At worst it was some horrible childhood memory that was mildly embarrassing. Knowing Yoshino, she would love something like that. He was already one foot out of the door, however something made him pause.
He wanted to turn around to say farewell, but before he could, Chōza and Inoichi slapped his back. The exchange was silent, even so, the warm presence of his friend's palms on his back was worth more than a thousand words. With that simple action something within him settled. It was the last push he needed.
The knot that was in his stomach for so long was now a thing of memory.