Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ The word 'Traitor' ❯ Life at Home ( Chapter 3 )

The Word `Traitor', Chap 3

Disclaimer: Do you see rampant, blatant homosexual pairings throughout Naruto? No? Okay, how about conclusive heterosexual pairings? Hmm, none of those either, eh? Well, I guess I don't own it then, do I? `Cause I like both!

AN: Word of warning, there will be points in here were characters seem OOC. There are reasons, some of which I've already explained, some I will explain and some which should be evident due to the story-line, IE: Shika-kun acting impatient or angry due to the conditions he's having to deal with. Just thought I'd tell you before you come baying for my blood….

11-10-06

~*~*~

 

It took a while, but Shikamaru was finally able to escape Tsunade's interrogation. Pausing for a moment just outside the office, he gathered a little chakra and cast a henge he called the `Don't look at me' no jutsu or Nakare kan o ware no jutsu. He had come up with this on one of those missions that had a blank spot in the middle of it. It was a very useful technique that he wasn't inclined to share right now. It was actually a low-level, visually cued genjutsu that deflected the eye, making a person not want to look directly at you. If they did see you, they'd forget that you were there later; at most, a person affected by the jutsu would later say that someone was there but they couldn't describe that person.

 

A stronger version affected more than just sight, by blocking hearing and chakra sensing. But a stronger version also was more easily detectable. That was the problem with most spy techniques, the stronger the jutsu, the more chakra it gave off making a louder `noise'. A practiced shinobi would look for the `noise' a technique gave off, and would be able to defeat the technique once they recognized it by the `noise'.

 

The normal level for this jutsu had very little `noise' since it was so low level. It only affected those within line of sight, and the affect was very slight and fairly inoffensive. It was unlikely to be detected and therefore Shikamaru was unlikely to be detected, which was just what he wanted.

 

Holding the henge in place, he walked home, for once unmolested by radiant hostility. It was a relief to be able to walk down a busy thorough-fair without having to deal with any of those looks and slighting remarks. Only when he reached the safety of his empty home, with the door firmly closed behind him, did the realization of what he had done hit him.

 

I just walked through Konoha, my home, under a spy-jutsu. That was something he'd only had to do in hostile territory before. That he had to do so when he was home, in `friendly' territory… what did that mean?

 

He slumped back against the closed door and sank to the floor, face pressed against his knees. He had to treat his home village like hostile territory just so he could be left in peace. Nope, not setting one foot outside this door for my entire leave time, nu-uh. He'd gotten that two day leave he'd wanted, in fact he'd had to argue with Tsunade to keep it to just two days. She'd wanted to give him a week off.

 

I can't, I can't stay here for that long. If I have to put up with this attitude for that long it'll break me, I know it. That thought was almost a crushing as the fact that he had to walk home in disguise. He lifted his head and straightened against the door in preparation to stand. The movement made his right pocket crinkle.

 

Blinking, he reached in and pulled out the envelope stashed there; he'd almost forgotten about Naruto's letter. A smile teased at his lips, those letters from his last true friend were the last link of Shikamaru's sanity, for they were the only consistent bright spot in his life. Ever since Naruto left on his training journey, he'd started writing his friends back in Konoha, sending his letters to Tsunade to hand out to the ones written to. Shikamaru kept up the correspondence, writing back whenever he got the chance.

 

With an effort, the youth heaved himself to his feet, and stumbled over to the softer seat of the couch. The missions office was in the center of Konoha, the Nara compound was on the outskirts of the city proper. Holding onto the henge for the entire trip home had been exhausting, using up the little strength the Nara youth had left. He leaned his head back against the couch arm, closing his eyes. He'd just rest a moment before finding something to eat and retreating to his room. Only for a moment.

 

Unsurprisingly, he was asleep within seconds of closing his eyes.

 

~*~*~

Not for the first time, Itachi reflected on how clever his young friend was. He kept coming up with rather ingenious techniques. The first was the Kage Wana, and the most recent was the Nakare kan o ware, the one that Itachi was employing at the moment. How else could he infiltrate the best spot to gather information in Konoha, a popular bar? Yes, you read correctly; the best places to gather commonly known information and rumors are bars, the more popular and frequented the better.

 

Itachi had entered the bar, one popular with Chuunin, Jounin and some Anbu, cloaked in the `Don't look at me' henge, and hadn't been given a second glance as he made his way to a back corner seat. He'd been very careful to use a stronger version, but not too strong. He'd also been careful to suppress his chakra level to that of a mid-class Jounin. Oh, and no active Sharingan either. That was not something that could be hidden by the henge and it would have been a dead-giveaway.

 

Not that he needed it; he only needed to keep his ears open while he nursed his bottle of good sake. With a few careful remarks, he steered the direction of the conversation and centered it on the `Rookie Nine', including Naruto, Sasuke and the focus of Itachi's interest, Shikamaru.

 

Interesting, the opinions were not what he would have thought. Oh, he was expecting a roughly negative opinion of Naruto, given what he was, but not as negative as this. With all that the blonde had done for his friends, Itachi would have thought that a few people at least would see past the Kyuubi's shadow to the normal boy within. Not so with this group at least.

 

Itachi also thought that with his foolish brother's betrayal, common opinion of him too would be poor. Again, not so, far too many people were willing to try and rationalize irrational behavior, and blame Naruto's influence as well, of course. Itachi took a sip of his sake to try and wash away the bitterness in his mouth.

 

And then the conversation centered on Shikamaru, and there things got… very interesting. The rumors that he was a horrid failure and a bitter disappointment popped up, and then a pair of patrons in one of the other back corners piped up and started expounding on how the Nara youth was a very clever traitor.

 

Look at how he had endeared himself to the reliable clans of Konoha, and then how he had led them to near death. Only Tsunade's skill had saved the faithful Chouji and the highly skilled Neji. And if relations hadn't been improved with Suna, Kiba and Lee would surly be dead, and hadn't Shikamaru tried to block that alliance by humiliating that Temari girl?

 

And then these other missions, failure after failure, delay after delay, he certainly wasn't trying to improve Konoha's reputation, not with that kind of record. Itachi grimaced and took another sip; all of the first part was twisted half-truth, but this last bit was a blatant lie. Shikamaru had been completing many of his recent missions successfully and on time, only a small handful had been failed or delayed. This was not unusual; every shinobi sometimes failed or couldn't complete an assignment on time, even Itachi. To be honest, the boy was doing a much better job success rate-wise than the Uchiha had at the same age.

 

Itachi carefully watched the pair in the corner, a Chuunin and a Jounin by their dress, and if that Chuunin was really a shinobi, Itachi was willing to eat his cup. There was something very wrong about those two; they were spreading too many lies to just have a grudge against Shikamaru, which had been Itachi's first thought. Those two were deliberately smearing the boy's reputation, but why?

 

The Uchiha poured out a little more sake while he thought about this, what was Shikamaru that he might have enemies? He was the heir to the Nara clan; could these two be agents of a would-be competitor for that title? No, not a chance, Shikamaru would have been challenged first. And besides, being the head of the Nara clan isn't as prestigious a title as head of Hyuuga or head of Uchiha. Why would anyone go to such great lengths to contest that?

 

He was the loyal soldier of Tsunade, but then so were a lot of other people and they were not being attacked like this. He was the first of his class to obtain Chuunin, but that wasn't too unusual a thing to merit this kind of attack. He was an effective agent and, aha!- he was Naruto's determined friend.

 

Itachi smirked into his cup; that was probably the cause of the attack. Of all the friends Naruto had, only two were unshakable and only one was outspoken and Shikamaru was both. Sakura was an unshakable friend, but she was not as outspoken about Naruto's merits as Shikamaru was. And only Shikamaru had real faith in the blonde boy's ability to be Hokage.

 

In fact, he went on at length about that not to long ago. According to the Nara youth, Naruto was strong, charismatic, idealistic and spiritually tough, able to take criticism without flinching. These were characteristics that a good leader needed. Another thing that a leader needed was friends who would fill in his skill gaps. That would be Shikamaru.

 

The youth had confided his dream to Itachi at the same time that he had pointed out Naruto's potential. Shikamaru wanted to be to Naruto what Shizune was to Tsunade; a confidant, an advisor, sometimes a taskmaster, but otherwise an all-around aid. Itachi could see it. It was easy to see Naruto as Hokage with Shikamaru at his side, helping him with the details that the blonde would be less able at.

 

But that was the problem; it was easy to see such a thing. And in the politically rife atmosphere of Konoha, there were many people who would do anything to prevent such a thing. Not only was Naruto the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki, he was also an advocate of the Sandaime and the Godaime. He would undoubtedly follow their pacific approach, emphasizing economic growth over military power. To some parties, this was utterly unacceptable.

 

So, apparently, they were moving to stop this by eliminating the opposition. Naruto was out of reach, and Sakura, another person who would help Naruto to the Kage seat, was under Tsunade's watchful eye. The most available target was the outspoken Shikamaru.

 

Now, assassination was out of the question; not only would that make some party members question the party itself; it would also draw unwanted attention to their far-sighted goals. Not to mention the fact that Shikamaru might eventually change his mind, rendering the killing pointless and a complete waste of time. No, the best way to deal with the boy was to discredit and dishearten him. The most logical weapon for that would be to spread some juicy, believable rumors.

 

So they did. And it was working. This is all speculation on my part, but I think I might have hit the real cause here. It just makes too much sense. Eliminate future competition for the Kage seat by eliminating future support of the candidate. Do so in the most innocent-seeming and untraceable way; by spreading rumor and half-truths and let the villagers do your dirty work.

 

Itachi finished off the last of his sake in one gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste that the fine sake couldn't wash away. There was nothing that he could do to counter this save what he was already doing, supporting Shikamaru whenever he was out alone. The Uchiha got up to leave; his information was gathered, the most probable cause of the situation identified. Besides, his sake was finished. Time to go.

~*~*~

“What the hell are you doing here sleeping, you lazy coward?!?” A well-known voice shrieked. Shikamaru started awake and was for a moment completely disoriented. He wasn't in his room, he wasn't out in a forest in his bedroll, he wasn't on his favorite hill, so where was he? Then his tired, sleep-blurred eyes focused on the figure in front of him. Sitting room, couch, and that would be `Kaa-san back from her own mission. Right.

 

“I didn't mean to sleep here, I must have been more tired than I thought.” He said in a patient tone. Inside though, he felt far from patient. She didn't even say `hi' first, she just lay into me first thing.

 

“Don't give me that bullshit you ungrateful bastard! I know how you are, sleeping half the day away at the slightest excuse. You haven't even done a single one of the chores on the list that I gave you!” His mother yelled, waving the list in front of his nose. He blinked; she'd given him a chore list when he was on active duty?

 

“I've only just gotten back from a five-day mission, I never even saw that lis-“ He was cut off as his mother let out another stream of abuse. Shikamaru wasn't given another chance to defend himself; each time he tried his mother attacked him again. Each attack was more vicious and cutting than the last and his faint protests only added more fuel to her fire. She went on at great length about all his faults, real, imagined or ones from his childhood that he'd left far behind him. Finally it got too much to bear, and he just turned and ran up the stairs to the dubious safety of his room, locking the door behind him.

 

She hates me, his mind whispered as he waited to hear if his mother followed him and then stumbled blindly to his bed. I knew she didn't like me, but I never thought that she'd hate me. He fell into the reliable comfort of his old bed, grabbing a pillow to bury his face in. What did I do? I've tried to be good, but I guess it wasn't enough. But what did I do that she hates me?

 

Shikamaru and his mother had never really gotten along since his birth. And his birth was the cause. For all of her life, Nara-san had wanted a daughter. She had entered married life planning on giving her husband a son, and giving herself a pretty little girl. Then Shikamaru was born and her plans were painfully erased.

 

During labor, Shikamaru had been presented breach, twisted in the birth canal the wrong way, preventing normal birth. After several hours of labor, the doctors had preformed Caesarian surgery to pull him out safely, but the damage had already been done. Shikamaru hadn't suffered any from his unusual birth, but his mother on the other hand…

 

She'd been too torn up inside and even if she wanted to, she could never have a child again. She would never have her daughter. The cause: her first-born, her son. Oh, it wasn't fair or logical to blame a new-born infant for what was honestly just bad luck, but since when has the subconscious mind ever listened to logic?

 

Ever since then, whenever the boy was around his mother, he'd felt it; the absence of love, the bitter resentment. Whenever he was with her the feeling of `why did you have to be born?' radiated out of her. The feeling was unmistakable when compared to the warmth and loving acceptance his father gave him.

 

When he was six, Shikamaru had finally asked the question that had haunted his entire young life: “Why doesn't `Kaa-san love me?” Shikato, surprised at the rather mature question, had answered in as understandable and truthful a way possible, not even thinking to lie and reassure his son that his mother did love him.

 

It's hard for a child to be resented by a parent. But it's even harder to be hated by that parent. Shikamaru was usually capable of pushing the pain away and dealing with it, but not this time. Not when he was so incredibly tired, and not when the pain came from so dear a source. He tried to stifle the sobs that tore out of his throat, but couldn't. It was the first time in his life he'd ever cried himself to sleep. It was not an experience that he'd ever wanted to have.

~*~*~

Sakura wiped her brow with a spare rag, glad that her shift in the hospital was finally done.

 

“Nice work, Sakura-chan,” Shizune said, giving her shoulder a small squeeze, “You're getting much better.”

 

“I should hope so, what with all the practice I'm getting!” The pink-haired teen said, smiling over at her substitute sensei as they started their walk to the Hokage office. Tsunade was often busy with Hokage duties, but that infamous person saw no reason for Sakura's training to be skimped on when Shizune was perfectly capable of over-seeing this initial phase.

 

So the youngest apprentice to the Hokage often went into the hospital to assist in healing many of the more minor wounds that the residents of Konoha were so skilled in collecting. It was hard, nerve-wracking and often dirty work, but it had to be done by somebody, so why not Sakura? Still, if she had to see one more squalling, squirming child that thought she was a punching bag, accompanied by a hand-wringing parent that scolded her for frightening the precious- more like worthless- brat…

 

Her hands fisted, tingling with chakra. The last time that Tsunade herself had trained with Sakura, she had taught the teenager the trick to that phenomenal strength. Sakura didn't have it all down right now, a great deal of that strength was physical, and she hadn't yet finished her conditioning. But she was getting there, a double-edged boon. Before, when she encountered a spoiled brat in need of a spanking, the urge to do just that was easily suppressed with the knowledge that she couldn't do any real damage. Now though, oh now she could do a little damage.

 

She and Shizune finished walking up to the Hokage's office and patiently waited to be allowed in. And then patiently waited again for Tsunade to finish reading and signing a few papers. Or at least Sakura had been patient, until she saw a particular envelope signed in a very familiar, if sloppy handwriting. She started to fidget, she couldn't help it. She missed Naruto terribly, surprisingly even more than she missed Sas-

 

Don't go there, she mentally scolded, just… don't.

 

Tsunade sighed while she put the last signed paper in the `finished' stack and stretched before looking over her apprentices, graduated and newly assigned. The Hokage smiled when she noticed Sakura's frequent glances to a particular envelope.

 

“Yes, that's what you think it is, he answered early this time.” The older woman said to the youngest in the room.

 

“And his handwriting's improving finally.” Sakura said, unable to admit her fond feelings for the absent blonde.

 

“Well, he's getting plenty of practice between you and Shikamaru.” Tsunade's eye grew unexpectedly sad. Sakura stifled panic; busy as she was in the hospital, she missed hearing many of the latest events until after everything was resolved one way or another. So if Shikamaru had been hurt again, or worse, she might not hear about until she was told by Tsunade or Shizune.

 

“Shikamaru's okay, right?” She asked a little nervously.

 

“Huh? Oh, yes… just…”

 

“Just what? If there's anything I can do to help…”

 

Tsunade smiled again, sadly, “There's really not much you can do about gossip. I mentioned that to you right, that someone's spreading vile rumors about him?”

 

“Yes you did, but why would that be of concern? They're just rumors.” Sakura answered, unconcerned. Shikamaru was too clever and strong-willed to let rumors affect him.

 

“They're just rumors until they're believed, and then they become a potent attack. Especially if those you're close to believe them, which regretfully is the case.”

 

Sakura blinked in dumbfounded shock, jaw dropping slightly. How could anyone believe that Shikamaru, Shikamaru, could be such a terrible failure and worse, a traitor? It was ridiculous. Oh yes, Sakura was embarrassed to admit, even if only to herself, that she had thought poorly of the Nara right after he had failed to retrieve Sasuke, but she'd gotten over that.

 

It had been her own pain and guilt talking, lashing out at any available target, and something within her had shrunk from the mere thought of attacking Naruto in any way after seeing how badly he'd been hurt trying to keep his promise. So she'd `attacked' Shikamaru instead, shunning him for a time. Then she'd gotten busy with her training, and simply hadn't had the time to see anyone lately. She'd get up; go to the hospital and get home late dragging with fatigue. If she was given a day off, she'd spend most of it resting and reading scrolls.

 

But now she was used to her schedule and was mostly over her pain, taking her anger out at the legitimate targets of Orochimaru, for enticing Sasuke, of Itachi, for warping Sasuke's childhood, and of Sasuke himself, for allowing himself to be corrupted.

 

How could she blame Shikamaru for unavoidable crimes of inexperience and lack of information, both of which had helped lead to the failure of the mission? The simple answer was that she couldn't. And think him a traitor? Impossible, she'd seen his record when she'd been looking over all of her friends, and had compared his to others. He had more successes than any other Chuunin his age or experience. He had successfully completed sensitive missions that others had failed, many times over. That was not the record of a traitor or a failure

 

“Well,” Tsunade said, breaking Sakura out of her indignant thoughts, “there is one thing you could do to help him. You could be his friend, and help him defeat these stupid rumors. According to your school record, you were once the victim of rumor and gossip yourself, weren't you?” Tsunade smiled knowingly at that last part while Sakura ducked her head, blushing. Someone had been telling, and that someone #cough# Ino #cough# was going to pay.

 

“I- yes and it would help him a lot to know that there's one friend at least standing beside him. I remember how much it helped just knowing that Ino was my friend, even when she wasn't there when those gossipy brats took after me.”

 

“Good, well, Shikamaru's on two-day leave and you've been working your butt off, so I'm giving you the same. So here-“ Tsunade tossed Naruto's letter to her, “-get moving and take your leave, you won't be getting another like it for a while.”

 

“Ma'am, yes ma'am.” Sakura said impishly, saluting over-dramatically. Her actions got the expected laugh and she headed down out of the tower towards home, plotting on how she could possibly help Shikamaru. Should she ask him to help her with her ninjutsu? No, apparently he was exhausted, again. Strategy maybe, she wasn't too bad at Go, so maybe she could play a few rounds of that, dissecting her technique, or lack there of. Yes, that would work. But that was for tomorrow, now she needed to eat and get to bed, she was tired. But before even that, she wanted to see what mayhem Naruto-baka was up to.

 

Upon reaching her house, she opened the letter and read while she slowly headed for a chair. Naruto's handwriting was still atrocious, but that was to be expected, given the handicap that she hadn't even suspected he had. No one had taught him to read or write, he'd taught himself with the help of the few lessons the Academy gave.

 

The Academy worked upon the assumption that its students' parents would be the primary teachers of reading and writing. Naruto didn't have parents, and no one to teach him. Given his lack of an academic bent, no wonder his writing skills sucked. The greater wonder was that he could read and write at all.

 

I'm helping now of course. Late, but I'm helping. When she had learned of Naruto's handicap, she had taken it upon herself to edit Naruto's letters, correcting his spelling and grammar and sending corrected copies back to him. Since there had been no protest, and the absent blonde's ability was slowly improving, Sakura could only assume that Naruto was grateful.

 

But as she read past the usual boasts and colorful descriptions of some of the things he'd seen, Sakura started to frown at what she read.

 

“-Shikamaru sounded really deperessed in his last letter and he made a mention of some stupid rumors. It's not like him to complain about anything personal, only what's annoying in genral. I'm kinda worried about him, do you think that you could, I dunno, help him? Listen to him complain and give him some advice or something? I know your real busy and so's he, but I worried he might do something real real stupid.-“

 

A second call to help the Nara boy, right after the first and both from a source that she wasn't inclined to ignore. She folded the letter back up; for once not bothering to find a pen to edit the more glaring spelling errors she'd seen. She'd help Shikamaru, in the morning, but she'd help him.

~*~*~

Dawn light filtered into Shikamaru's room, striking his eyes. With a grown, he slowly opened them, blinking tear-gunk out of them. Some inner prompting was telling him he should get up and moving, but he didn't want to. Getting up meant leaving his room and he might run into his mother if he did that. The cold lump that sprung up at the thought killed the budding hunger he was starting to feel.

 

He glanced out the window again and realized how stupid he was being right now, there was no way that his mother would be up right now; it was far too early. He'd better take advantage of that fact and get something to eat before the day progressed and his mother awoke.

 

Carefully, Shikamaru slide out of bed and eased open his door. He paused, all was quiet. Still carefully, he snuck down the stairs, cautiously skipping the three steps that always creaked when stepped on. He reached the kitchen and scanned the fridge for food; there was leftover rice and some egg flower soup, probably extra from his mother's dinner last night due to the freshness.

 

Hastily, he made rice-balls, ate them and the soup quickly and snuck back up stairs. He was about to retreat back to his room when he caught a whiff of himself. Ugh, no way; he was going to take a shower first. Even if that risked waking his mother, being clean would be worth it. He crept into the upstairs shower, locked the door firmly behind him and stripped in preparation. He caught a glimpse of movement, and his frayed nerves made him whirl, crouching into a battle-ready stance instinctively.

 

But what Shikamaru had seen was a reflection of himself in the mirror. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the stranger reflected there. He was so thin, his ribs showing clearly. And the scars, where had he gotten all those scars? His mind only too readily replayed the various fights he'd been in at that thought, but still, how could he, only fourteen and no prominent fighter, have collected all those scars? Then he glanced at his face, and his expression became painfully rueful; he could give Gaara stiff competition for baggy eyes at the moment.

 

Enough, he looked like shit, what else was he expecting? Food and rest should take care of a few problems at least. He climbed into the shower and quickly scrubbed down, dried off and snuck back into his room. Still safe, his mother hadn't woken up.

 

But the fact that he not only had to treat the city, but his own home as hostile territory made a lump in his throat that he couldn't dislodge. It wasn't fair, what had he done wrong that he was being treated this way? Shikamaru lay down in his bed and stared up at his ceiling, eyes tracing the familiar lines of the few cracks in the plaster.

 

He ran over the things he had done, starting with the failed mission to retrieve Sasuke. Yes, that mission and a handful of others had been failures, but he'd compared his record with those of other shinobi, and he really wasn't doing too bad a job. The Sasuke retrieval mission had really been out of his league, newly promoted and with only young Genin in his team. That they'd all come out alive was a friggin' miracle, actually.

 

All his other missions that he'd failed were either of that stamp, beyond his ability, or unavoidable failures. He honestly couldn't be faulted for those, could he? Maybe…

 

While mussing over these thoughts, Shikamaru made the mistake of closing his eyes while his body lay prone. Naturally, he fell asleep, again.

~*~*~

It was only a few hours after his eyes had closed that Shikamaru was jolted awake again. This time he wasn't being yelled at, thankfully. Instead, his mother was creating the most ungodly racket downstairs. He thought she was cooking, or cleaning, or something, he wasn't sure. He only knew that he couldn't sleep through it, his hair-trigger nerves wouldn't let him. Each thump made him jump. So he read Naruto's letter instead.

 

Naruto had a lot of different funny stories in his latest letter, exploits of his sensei Jiraiya, different failed attempts at various techniques and other things. It made Shikamaru wish that he was traveling with the blonde instead of being stuck here dealing with malicious gossip. At the end of the letter, Naruto asked how Shikamaru was doing, had he recovered from Itachi's attack? Was he getting along well with everyone?

 

Shikamaru bit his lip and felt his throat close up. Naruto was asking after his health and happiness, something that his own mother wasn't doing. Drawing in a shaky breath, Shikamaru set Naruto's letter aside to answer later, when his emotions were more under control. It wasn't like him to be so easily unsettled by such a small thing as a question after his health, it was just that he was still so tired…

 

There was another loud thump and series of rattles downstairs. It sounded like a fight, but when Shikamaru stretched his senses, he only felt his mother's steady chakra signature. His mother was a respectable Chuunin in her own right, her chakra signature was unmistakable. Equally unmistakable was the fact that she was upset about something, but not fighting.

 

Best for Shikamaru to stay where he was, even though he was hungry, and bored. Well, he could solve the boredom problem easily enough. He rolled off of his bed and fished underneath it to bring out two shoe boxes. One held all of his childhood treasures; he opened it just to look at the collection of pretty rocks, bird nests and other bits and odd ends. Sighing nostalgically, he closed the box and shoved it back under his bed. The second box held all the letters Naruto had sent him.

 

Both of Shikamaru's parents didn't want him to have anything to do with the traveling blonde, and had told him so decisively when he had received the first letter. Usually, Shikamaru was obedient to his parents' wishes, but not this time, no way. So he had asked Tsunade if she'd be so kind as to hold onto Naruto's letters until Shikamaru himself could pick them up. She hadn't asked why he had asked for that, but he had a feeling that she understood his reasons. It was depressing.

 

But Naruto's letters themselves most certainly weren't depressing, quite the opposite in fact. They held all of Naruto's light-hearted optimism and love of life in the written words, a nice antidote to what Shikamaru had to live with. He spent an enjoyable interlude rereading them while waiting for his mother to leave, or go take a nap, or something.

 

Finally, he heard the front door open and slam shut and felt his mother's signature leave the house. He hid the letters back under the bed, except for the newest one. That he hid in some papers on his desk, so that he could respond to it later. Then he gathered up his laundry, he had nothing worth wearing in public right now, everything was either dirty or almost rags. He'd eat while they were in the wash.

 

It was all quickly done, leaving Shikamaru with time on his hands. He was still tired, but not sleepy for once. Steeling his courage, he decided to see if Chouji or Ino were in town and see it they were willing to be friendly. But before he even stepped out the door, he put his `Don't look at me' henge on. Just to be safe.

 

It took a while, but he found Chouji and Ino sitting outside the barbeque joint that they had frequented as a team. He dispelled his henge and walked up.

 

“Hi guys.” He called, trying to act normal, but inside he was suppressing desperation. They glanced over at him.

 

“Uh, hi…” Chouji answered weakly. Ino glared and then turned her head, pony tail flipping over her shoulder.

 

“Oh, so Mr. Chuunin-sama(1) finally decides to show up.” She snapped primly. “And just when we don't need him anymore.”

 

“I've been busy.” He explained, stifling the hurt, “Did something happen that I missed?”

 

Ino sniffed, “Only another Chuunin exam that you didn't even show up for.”

 

“There was another exam so soon?” He asked, glancing desperately at Chouji for support. The other boy avoided his gaze.

 

“Yes, not that you would care, seeing as you're already one and way above us now.” Ino huffed.

 

“Ino, I didn't know about it, no one told me.” Shikamaru tried to explain, spreading his hands helplessly while he moved in front of Ino, trying to catch her gaze instead. Ino turned her head away again.

 

“You could have asked, but you couldn't be bothered with that could you? Oh, no, you're too busy with your missions.”

 

“I've told you, I can't help how I'm assigned. I've told you!” He swallowed to try and steady himself and asked in a more normal tone, “So, how did you do? In the exam I mean.”

 

“Oh, now he asks. I guess Mr. Analytical can't even see that we don't have vests.” Ino snarled. Shikamaru winced and glanced over at Chouji again, but his former best friend still wouldn't meet his eyes(2).

 

“Not everyone likes wearing the vest, so I thought…” Finally, Ino met his gaze to give him a disgusted look. For whatever reason, this was too much. “Look, forget I asked, forget I even came here! Just- forget it!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in his own disgust before stalking away.

 

His anger didn't last long though; it was overwhelmed by his increasingly heavy depression. His back hunched against the oppressive atmosphere and he tucked his hands in his pockets to shield them from the cold that was more emotional that environmental. In his upset, distracted state, he completely forgot to reset the henge.

 

“You're pretty bold to be walking around like this!” Someone yelled from right in front of him. Shikamaru had been staring at the ground just in front of his feet, so he hadn't noticed the people around him. He looked up, he didn't know this person, but he was pretty sure that he was one of the many Inuzuka clansmen Konoha boasted. This person did not look happy, or kind.

 

“What?” Shikamaru asked numbly. The Inuzuka snarled, a good expression for someone with fangs.

 

“I said that you're pretty bold, traitor, to be walking around here!” The Inuzuka growled, approaching aggressively. Shikamaru backed away, staring in surprise. “You think we don't know about you? You think we're just going to let it slide? You nearly got my cousin killed, you bastard, and you think we're going to let you get away with it? Huh!”

 

Shikamaru's mouth worked soundlessly. He was completely stunned by this turn of events. It was one thing to whispered about and glared at, to have his friends shun him but this? To be challenged for something he hadn't done? Why? Why couldn't they just see that he was being lied about? And why couldn't they just leave him alone?

 

There was a crowd growing around them, it was a busy commercial area after all. Shikamaru quickly glanced about, but there was no one there that looked friendly or sympathetic. Quite the contrary, there were many angry and approving looks on those unfriendly faces. Shikamaru felt something die inside.

 

“Aren't you going to answer me?” The Inuzuka roared angrily, face barely inches from the Nara's.

 

“I already know that nothing I say will change your mind. Nothing I've said for months has changed anything.” He murmured in response, not even trying to hide his pain. He didn't even see the other's fist move, he only know that after he made his response he was suddenly doubled over the other's fist. His breath flew out in a whoosh and he gasped to try and refill his emptied, aching lungs.

 

The Inuzuka fisted his other hand in Shikamaru's hair and yanked him up, glaring hatefully. The crowd mocked and called encourage and approval from the sides. The Nara felt more of himself die inside as the calls reached his ears and he saw his attacker grin in anticipation of his beating. The other fist was raised in preparation for a second blow and Shikamaru just closed is eyes, waiting. What good did fighting do? He was so damned tired…

 

WHAM! Someone's fist impacted a face, but the face wasn't Shikamaru's and the fist wasn't the Inuzuka's. The Inuzuka went flying, releasing Shikamaru's hair but not before the youth was knocked off balance. The boy gaped up at his defender.

 

“Asuma-sensei?” He asked. His sensei gave him a brief encouraging look before glaring down at the Inuzuka who was wiping the blood from his mouth and glaring.

 

“What the fuck-?” The dog fighter demanded, rising, and then ducking as Asuma aimed a kick at him.

 

“You stay down you incompetent moron! How dare you start a brawl in the streets? And over some filthy rumors! Don't you have a brain?” The Jounin demanded, standing protectively between his student and the attacker. Shikamaru slowly and unsteadily rose to his feet. The crowd was still there, and it was angry. The Nara kept his eyes down, least a show of confidence incite the crowd into a mob.

 

“Every single one of those rumors is completely and utterly false!” Asuma continued, “If you'd even bothered to once ask the Hokage or one of her trusted assistants you would have learned that. Shikamaru didn't nearly kill your cousin Kiba, Uchiha Sasuke and the Sound did! Why aren't you going after them? Not convenient enough for you?”

 

The Inuzuka cautiously rose to his feet outside of Asuma's range, glaring even more hatefully at Shikamaru. The Nara looked away, and caught a glimpse of Ino and Chouji. Ino was pulling Chouji back away from the edge of the crowd, and Chouji wasn't resisting. Within seconds, they were lost from sight. Even with Asuma's clear support, they weren't willing to lend a hand.

 

Shikamaru wondered at the fact that he was still breathing, for it felt as if there was nothing still alive inside. He couldn't take this anymore, Asuma wasn't defending him, no Asuma was fighting against rumors that were as damaging to the Jounin's reputation as the Chuunin's. Shikamaru reset his henge and slipped away, heading for the most distant and least visited training grounds.

 

Thanks to the henge, no one noticed or stopped him and he quickly left the fight scene and the center of Konoha far behind him. Once he was safe in the training grounds, away from prying eyes, the tears came. He tried to stop them, it wasn't manly. But they wouldn't be stopped no matter how he scrubbed at his rebelliously tearing eyes.

 

Boys don't cry, he thought, and then remember that that was something his mother always told him. Had she told him that because that's what she believed, or had she said that because she didn't want to be bothered caring for a crying child? That thought only made the tears fall faster. But he was too tired to cry for long.

 

He reached the shelter of a bush covered field, and worked his way to the heart of one of the thickest bushes. He'd been here before and knew that once you got past the outer branches there was a clear space inside just large enough for one slim teenaged boy to sit. As an added bonus, the ground was covered with thick dry leaves and pine needles from a tree above the bush. It was almost comfortable there.

 

There's no way that Ino or Chouji will have anything to do with me anymore. He thought, mind turning back to the fight. He knew that they'd be certain that Asuma's defense was just one more piece of evidence towards favoritism. It wasn't, none of it was; but they both were certain, Ino especially, that Asuma favored Shikamaru and that the youth's advancement to Chuunin so quickly was proof.

 

But it was circumstances, not favoritism, that made the bulk of the `evidence'. Ino's mother was the shopkeeper of the flower shop her family owned. Chouji's mother was the chief cook of a bakery that his family owned. Shikamaru's mother was a reliable Chuunin. Even if all of their father's were away on a mission, Ino and Chouji could count on the fact that their respective mothers would be there when they got home. For Shikamaru, it was fifty-fifty, maybe his mother would be there, maybe she wouldn't.

 

So it was not uncommon for Shikamaru to stay after the day's missions and training were done to spend time with Asuma-sensei; why would he rush home to an empty house. So in a way, yes Asuma did train Shikamaru more in the youth's special talent, his strategic mind, but it wasn't favoritism. If Ino or Chouji had stayed after to play Asuma's favorite game, they would have been welcome. But they didn't, so it looked like favoritism.

 

And then there had been that handful of times when Shikamaru had been injured in training or on a mission, and neither parent had been there. So Asuma had taken Shikamaru home with him so that the boy would be looked after. This was actually one of the duties that all of the sensei's had to do, to make certain that the students were properly cared for. Usually, only orphans were given this treatment, which was much more understandable to the other students. But here, again, it looked like favoritism. And again it wasn't.

 

Shikamaru took in a shaky breath and hunched up more in his vest. There was a touch of winter in the fall air, easily shrugged off under normal circumstances, but Shikamaru was tired, and he'd never liked the cold anyway. It was growing dark, time to go home; maybe his mother would be in a better mood now. Yeah right.

 

The youth worked his way out of the bush and headed home under his henge, picking leaves out of his hair and off of his clothes. He walked in, calling out the customary greeting will he took off his sandals. His mother descended on him like a vengeance crazed demon.

 

“Where the hell have you been all afternoon?” She demanded.

 

“Out, seeing Chouji and Ino.” For all the good that did, he added silently. Going to see his former teammates was legitimate at least, surely his mother couldn't find fault in that.

 

“When you had chores to do?” She countered, holding up the list. Crap, I completely forgot about that!

 

“I can still do them now…” He offered, reaching for the list. She snatched it away from him.

 

“Oh, now he offers, after half of the chores are done, by me, and the other half are no longer needed.” She ripped the list in half, for some reason this made Shikamaru wince. She stalked away to the fireplace, leaving her son to pick up the shredded paper. He did so and meekly threw the fragments into the small fire.

 

“Oh, and that reminds me,” His mother spoke up sweetly. Shikamaru cringed, wondering what he'd done to merit that tone of voice, it never boded well. “One of the chores was to clean your room, which I did for you.” Shikamaru cautiously nodded, keeping his head down.

 

“I found these while I was doing that.” She held up the letters from Naruto. Shikamaru felt his blood run cold.

 

“Th-tho-those are-“ He stuttered.

 

“Filth!” She hissed, throwing them in the fire. Shikamaru let out an inarticulate cry, lunging for the letters. Too late, they were already burning. A hand gripped his shoulder painfully and swung him around to face his mother. “Didn't your father and I tell you that you were to stay away from that monster? Didn't we tell you not to have anything to do with him? And you still received, and kept!- letters from that thing?!”

 

“He's not a thing!” Shikamaru yelled back, throwing off his mother's hand, “He's not a monster! He's a good person, a friend! And it's none of your damned business any way! How dare you-!”

 

CRACK!

 

Shikamaru's head was snapped back, his body forced back a pace. He felt a trickle of blood leak out the corner of his mouth and saw his mother's closed fist at the edge of his vision. She'd hit him, not slapped him, not shaken him, but hit him. He slowly turned his head to stare at her fully, not quite believing.

 

She glared at him through narrowed eyes, not in the least regretful. “How dare you-“ she hissed evenly, hatefully, “-talk back to me that way?”

 

Shikamaru said nothing. He wiped the blood from his mouth, turned his back and went to his room. He carefully locked the door, noted coldly that nothing had been cleaned or put away, and packed the few things that still meant anything to him. Tomorrow he was going to the missions office to request a long-term mission.

 

When he got back, he was going to collect his savings, a lot since he rarely bought anything, and get an apartment. When he was promoted from Junior Chuunin to Mid or even Senior Chuunin, he was going to ask for a re-assignment. He was never going to set foot back in this place ever again.

~*~*~

Mr. Chuunin-sama: I know that that's really bad grammar. I don't care, I was after the effect that the sounds make.

The reason behind Ino's and Chouji's behavior: Ino's having a, ah, bad month, PMS wise, and Chouji knows this, that's why he didn't speak up, he was trying to not get his head bitten off and thought that Shika was capable of handling Ino's attitude the way he usually does. Little did either one know how their behavior would affect their oft missing comrade.

Kan-look

Nakare-do not

Ware-me

O-at

Nakare kan o ware no jutsu: Don't look at me no jutsu

Kage: Shadow

Wana: Trap

Kage Wana no jutsu: Art of the Shadow Trap

 

Shika: I hate you.

A.S.: #Chuu# Love you too, cutie.

Shika: Ugh.

A.S.: Aside from building up the relationship between Itachi and Shika, I'm also trying to build up Shika's disassociation with Konoha. I can't say much more than that, but this chapter is needed development for what will come in later chapters. Hope everything seemed to work out. For discrepancies, message me about them and I'll try and explain, and/or fix. Ja!

Shika: I so hate that woman… look what she's doing to my life!

Itachi: Don't worry too much, I'm willing to make it all better for you…

Shika: EEP!