nara shikamaru, tracker affiliated w. eraofhurricanes
-
All shinobi must be staunch representatives of their sovereign nation. In what way do you best exemplify ninja from your nation?
Bleary eyes squinted up at the sky to trace the wispy edges of a cloud as it drifted along. The cumulus was slow in its journey, unbothered by the living, untethered by time. If a war were to break out in its presence, it wouldn't care. That was the sort of nonchalance Shikamaru wished he had.
A middle age woman with eyeshadow too blue for her pale skin was sobbing next to him. She drew curious gazes, but no one dared to step in—a domestic dispute between an overbearing mother and a useless son, they must be assuming.
Shikamaru closed his eyes. Had he been born a platypus, that would've closed his ears too. No one would know he wasn't listening, and no one would be offended. What a peaceful life that would be ...
"My baby!" the woman wailed, throwing herself at the tree trunk. "I promise you will get all the treats in the world if you come down!"
The 'baby' in question was a fat orange cat. How it managed to climb to the highest branch should be considered one of the world's greatest mysteries.
What a pain in the ass ...
If he didn't become a ninja, he could've walked past this woman and let someone else help her ... but he had earned himself the Leaf headband. He swore to serve and protect the village, which included His Majesty, Mr. Whiskers.
Whatever.
He could get this done with shadow stitching.
Except his shadow didn't move. Or rather, it couldn't.
What the hell?
Energy tingled at the base of each foot as he leapt onto the branch instead. At least his chakra wasn't shot.
His gaze turned towards the poofy orange tail, flicking in annoyance. Mr. Whiskers was not pleased to make his acquaintance. Jeez ... this was going to cut his nap short.
-
There may come a time on a mission when a difficult choice must be made, to protect a comrade or to complete the mission. Are you prepared to complete the missions assigned to you at any cost?
"Nah, I'd rather not."
Shikamaru shoved a pinky into his ear and twisted it around, searching for that piece of earwax that had been tumbling about with each head turn. He'd have his mother look for it, but she'd use that as an excuse to yank his ear and make him listen to another lecture. Chouji's finger was too chubby. Ino was out of the question. He could ask his old man, but Shikaku was currently busy trying to hide his embarrassment from the Hokage.
Lady Tsunade might be able to get the earwax out of him, but he'd be dead afterward so it wouldn't matter ...
"It's too much responsibility."
The last time he led a team, everyone came back in critical condition. It'd been his calculation, his call. They trusted him with their lives, and he left them behind to bleed out alone. It took him several days to look Chouji in the eye and several weeks beyond that to shake off the cold sweat he would wake up drenched in.
But then Naruto's name came up. Then Kiba's. Then Lee's.
So that was it. They wanted him to be their babysitter. What a drag ...
He removed his pinky from his ear, having unsuccessfully dug out the culprit. Perhaps if Kiba went into his beast mode, he could use his long nail to scrape it out ...
"Shikamaru! You can't just walk out on the Hok—"
"I'm out of tag bombs," he yawned, tucking his hands into his pockets. Smoke bombs too. He needed those for whatever surprise attacks Naruto and Kiba were bound to do. Extra bandages for Lee as well. And treats for Akamaru.
So much for taking the week off ...
But he couldn't let the three village idiots go off and die. They protected him last time by choosing to fight. He had to return the favour.
-
Every shinobi has an internal creed that they follow, which drives their ninjutsu to even greater heights. What is your nindo?
Protect the King.
That was the first principle in the Shogi handbook.
It meant nothing to him at first. Such a principle was simply a rule of the game, a goal to work towards, and a prize to be won. Not that the King was all that valuable; despite its importance on the board, it was the weakest player. He protected it because he had to.
This was his only thought as he threw himself at his neighbour's kid. She was a brat in every sense of the word. Her favourite past time was hurling rocks at his window and stalking him around the block until he agreed to overlook her training. She wanted to be, in her words, the prettiest queen Hokage. He was to be her knight.
Pain pierced his back, hot and bright. He choked on his own blood, spluttering it across her widened eyes.
"I told you to hide."
"I-I'm sorry, I wanted to hel—"
"Go!"
She flinched at his volume and stumbled back, her small hands fisting the tail of her shirt to keep them still.
"I said GO!"
This time, she listened.
Once she was out of sight, Shikamaru yanked out the shuriken wedged into his side. He turned then, dark eyes—now unkind—boring into the fugitive's head.
Jumping him was one thing. Going after a kid, however ...
That was irredeemable.
Protect the King.
He reached into his pouch and grabbed a kunai tagged with a paper bomb.
Protect the Future.

















