Nara Shiori bounced out of bed to greet the seventeenth day of her new life. From a lowly branch family member with an uncertain future (exaggerated to provide an emotional safety margin) to the personal assistant of Shikamaru himself—it was a fairy tale come true, even with all that her family had sacrificed to make it happen. The clan heir, the genius who’d broken the Shin’ichi Test, the leader of her generation’s Ino-Shika-Chō with a flawless mission record. After all those years of admiring him from afar…
Ahem.
A few minutes later, she rapped her knuckles insistently against his door, ignoring the sign that read, “Do not disturb for anything short of a Class Five”.
After several seconds, it opened just enough to reveal Shikamaru’s bleary-eyed face, and of course his hands. He stared at her balefully.
“Good morning,” he muttered. Factually inaccurate phatic statement. Even his sign language was lethargic, but on the other hand it was amazing how the famous Shikamaru dry wit functioned even when he was half-asleep.
“Good morning!” she beamed. This statement is normative rather than descriptive. “Are you ready to come down for breakfast?”
Shikamaru groaned. “Fine. I’m on my way. How can you be so lively this early in the morning?” I ask this question in full awareness that the answer may be beyond my security clearance.
“Perks of being a half-blood,” she stuck her tongue out at him, even as her treacherous hands signed, Lacks empirical data. She was aware that her behaviour was out of sync with Shikamaru’s general energy levels, but Lord Shikaku had been very clear on how he expected her to act, and why.
Shikamaru shambled after her without further comment.
“Lord Shikaku has been summoned by the Hokage and Lady Yoshino is coordinating a statistics team requested by the Hokage's Office,” Shiori rattled off briskly. This information is of no immediate significance, but you should take note of it in case it is useful later. “You have taijutsu practice scheduled at eight, a briefing with Research and Development at ten, and the usual at midday. You have reserved the afternoon for team activities. I’ve traded your two hours from Shika for an hour’s sparring with Mistress Shiemi, and purchased an apology gift for Yamanaka Ino, which you will find with your daily gear.” I am aware that you know this already, but am reminding you because even a small risk of forgetting is unacceptable.
“That was entirely unnecessary,” Shikamaru grumbled, shovelling spiced congee into his mouth at a rate that said good things about Shiori’s latest culinary experiment. “Appeasing her petty grudges is only going to encourage her.” I can confirm this based on repeated testing in live combat.
“You cast aspersions on a teenage girl’s potential for… physical development,” Shiori disagreed. “It’s amazing how she didn’t punch you out on the spot.” Based on the information available to me, this is not an exaggeration.
“It was supposed to be a compliment! Large chests are an inconvenience to kunoichi in any number of ways!” Your argument is not only irrational but encourages practices that interfere with open communication.
Shiori showed nothing of her jubilation on her face. His preferences were noted.
“Shikamaru, you are giving her an apology gift and that’s final. As your personal assistant, it is my explicit duty to watch your back and make sure you don’t get yourself killed doing something stupid.” I am making this potentially offensive statement out of concern for your welfare and do not wish to impugn your worth as a person.
Shikamaru sighed and finally met her eyes. “Thank you for the meal. The extra cinnamon was a good thought.” It was his concession to her wisdom, sweetened further still by the accompanying sign. My present negative attitude is caused by external factors and is not a reflection of how I perceive you.
Looking at his graceful but unmotivated body language as he rose from his seat, Shiori was once again grateful that she wasn’t of the main family bloodline, and not just for the obvious reason (less than 10% probability, but still non-zero).
-o-
The training yard should have been empty this time of day. She’d spent half her free time yesterday running around and checking timetables for that very purpose, ensuring that this time there were no other ninja who could serve as Shikamaru’s sparring partner. All to make sure he was completely undistracted when Mistress Shiemi turned up in the second hour, of course (my ulterior motives in this matter are not relevant to the substance of the discussion).
Instead, she could see her least favourite person in the world, plus two of her interchangeable hangers-on.
“Shiori,” Shirayuki greeted her with a fake smile, “always nice to see you. I see you’re being a great help to Shikamaru as always.” I am saying the opposite of what I mean to deceive eavesdroppers, she signed as her flunkies moved to screen her hands from Shikamaru. The man himself was stretching his muscles off to the side and sensibly not getting involved. It did not take a Yamanaka to tell what word was going through his mind.
“Shirayuki,” Shiori acknowledged coldly. You are embarrassing yourself in public and should leave ASAP to minimise the damage, she signed, making no effort to hide it from Shikamaru. True Nara didn’t lie to each other.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Shirayuki gave a sickly-sweet laugh. “You’re always such a riot, Shiori. This is why everyone likes you.” I am presenting this hypothetical scenario as an absurd joke rather than a piece of data.
“That’s nice,” Shiori said. “Go away now. I have things to do.” I apologise for speaking at a level of complexity which may be too difficult for you to follow. Please let me know if you need me to simplify it for you.
Shirayuki looked like she’d bitten down on a chakra lemon, provoking it into shifting to predator mode. “Why, you—I, uh, don’t think so. You’re obviously planning to spar, and I think Shikamaru should have the best opponent he possibly can. Isn’t that right, girls?” I wish to end this discussion as it clearly has no more value to offer.
“Of course, Shirayuki.” Complete agreement.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Shirayuki.” Respect for a well-presented argument.
Shirayuki smirked. “Which is why I’ll be taking over now. You should go do some paperwork, or clean dirty sandals, or whatever it is the main family keeps you around for. We both know you’re no match for me.” This is a purely factual matter which cannot be influenced by argumentation.
“Maybe I wasn’t last year.” Painful, humiliating memories flickered before Shiori’s eyes. But they were memories that belonged to another girl, one who hadn’t been Nara Shikamaru’s right hand. One who hadn’t had something greater than herself to fight for. “People change.” Allow me to present you with incontrovertible proof.
“Let’s throw down.”
Shirayuki barely waited for her to finish speaking before letting loose one of her famous spin kicks.
Shiori leapt back to dodge, Shirayuki’s foot nearly grazing her nose. There was no way Shiori had the raw strength to block one of those things.
Opening up distance to begin with was key, and well worth spending some of her precious chakra to get that little bit further. It left her in position for the next step.
Shiori pulled out one of her special practice kunai, twisting her body backwards and side-on as if gathering extra strength for the throw, but in reality performing a last-minute adjustment. Then she threw with unerring, painstakingly-trained aim. Her hands were already making seals as the kunai flew.
But Shirayuki saw through her trick instantly. She moved aside ever so slightly to avoid the kunai with her superior reflexes—then grabbed the ninja wire attached to it and yanked it hard.
Instead of being able to send her shadow down the wire with Shadow Imitation, Shiori was tugged forwards, off-balance, before she could activate the technique. And the second she was vulnerable, Shirayuki charged in, ready to end the fight with a single rib-breaking elbow strike.
However, with perfect mental discipline, Shiori had held on to her moulded chakra. Throwing a foot forward to steady herself, she completed the Shadow Imitation just as Shirayuki reached her. Her natural shadow, falling the right way after Shiori had made sure to jump in that particular direction at the start, fell on Shirayuki’s elbow, locking her movement down.
Or not. Shirayuki had anticipated her every action. Her elbow strike wasn’t a real elbow strike—it was her bringing up one arm while her hands made the seals for her own Shadow Imitation Technique.
Shirayuki's chakra was much stronger than hers. Of course it was. One of the Shadow Imitations overwhelmed the other, and Shiori lost all control of her body.
Shirayuki moved to finish off her victim the traditional Nara way. Both girls straightened up and reached for the kunai in their pouches. Except Shiori had to reach for a normal practice kunai while Shirayuki reached for the special Nara kunai with a missing blade. All she had to do was make one horizontal swipe, and Shiori would effectively cut her own throat.
Shiori helplessly pulled out the kunai, the movement empowered by all of Shirayuki’s superior strength. But the motion tugged on the ninja wire which went from it to her original kunai, passing through Shiori's belt as if through a pulley. The loop of extra wire she’d originally measured out tightened abruptly. And it just so happened to have fallen in the only place Shirayuki could put her foot during her fake elbow strike.
Shirayuki had indeed anticipated Shiori’s every action. But Shiori had anticipated that as well.
Her foot pulled out from under her by her own imitated movement, Shirayuki toppled backwards, breaking her concentration. Shiori threw herself after her—her hand already holding the kunai Shirayuki had made her draw. The point of the blade was at Shirayuki’s throat the instant she hit the ground.
“Checkmate.” Shikamaru’s voice broke her combat focus.
Shiori turned to look at him, still pinning down a stunned Shirayuki. Had he been watching the entirety of her fight? She didn’t know whether to feel proud or mortified.
“Mate in four,” Shikamaru said offhandedly. “Not bad. Come at me when you’re ready, and let’s see if you can make it to six.”
And with those words, he finally gave Shiori the hand sign she had been waiting for all these years.
You have my undivided attention.