Afternoon – Theory Class
Iruka was explaining chakra nature basics, drawing neat diagrams on the board.
"Yin chakra governs imagination, spiritual energy—"
Shikamaru's eyes narrowed slightly.
So that's what they call it here.
Inside him, the darkness stirred again, responding to the word Yin like it was being addressed directly.
The shadows along the classroom walls deepened—not longer, not larger, just… heavier.
Sakura rubbed her arms. "Is it cold in here?"
"No," Kiba muttered. "Feels weird though."
Iruka paused, frowning, then continued. "—and Yang chakra governs physical energy."
Shikamaru tuned out the lecture and instead watched the shadows cast by the window frames.
They weren't behaving correctly.
Light said they should end here.
Darkness said otherwise.
Interesting, he thought. This fruit doesn't just create darkness. It overrides the rules that light thinks it owns.
He gently reined it in.
No point terrifying the Academy on day one.
Dismissal
"Class dismissed!"
The room erupted. Kids rushed out, shouting about ramen, training, tomorrow.
Shikamaru stayed seated.
Troublesome crowds.
Choji stopped beside his desk. "Wanna go eat?"
"Later," Shikamaru replied. "Thinking."
Choji nodded like that explained everything. "Okay."
Once the room emptied, Iruka approached.
Shikamaru felt it before the man spoke—an instinctive pull, like darkness reacting to authority.
"Nara," Iruka said gently. "That technique earlier… you didn't form seals."
Shikamaru looked up, bored expression perfectly practiced. "Shadow stuff doesn't really need seals, does it?"
Iruka hesitated. That was… technically true.
"…Still," Iruka said, smiling, "you've got talent. Don't underestimate yourself."
Shikamaru sighed. "That sounds like work."
Iruka laughed and waved him off.
As Shikamaru left, the shadow under Iruka's feet stretched just a fraction longer—then snapped back.
Iruka shivered.
Evening – Training Field 10
The sun dipped low. Long shadows painted the grass.
Perfect.
Shikamaru stood alone in the field, hands in pockets, eyes finally sharp.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's test the limits."
He extended his will.
Not chakra.
Darkness.
The shadows around him detached from their owners, pooling together like liquid ink. The temperature dropped. Sound dulled.
A stone at his feet lifted—slowly—crushed inward by invisible pressure until it collapsed into dust.
Shikamaru whistled softly. "That's… excessive."
He reached out and pulled.
Darkness answered instantly, forming a writhing mass that swallowed a training log whole. There was no explosion. No impact.
The log simply ceased to exist.
Absorbed.
Shikamaru exhaled. "…Yeah. That's gonna be a problem."
He released it. The field returned to normal. Crickets chirped again.
Rules, he thought. I need rules.
Never absorb chakra in public
Never let darkness move without shadows
Always pretend it's Nara techniques
He lay back in the grass, watching the stars appear.
Then—
A presence.
Shikamaru didn't move.
From the edge of the field, a tall figure watched him: bandaged arm, single visible eye, cane tapping softly.
Shimura Danzō.
"Well, well," Danzō said. "The Nara heir trains late."
Shikamaru sighed internally.
Of course.
"Couldn't sleep," Shikamaru replied lazily.
Danzō's visible eye narrowed. "You immobilized a classmate without seals. Interesting control for your age."
Shadows twitched.
Shikamaru kept his tone flat. "Lucky angle."
Danzō stepped closer—and the darkness pushed back.
Not violently. Not aggressively.
Like gravity refusing him.
Danzō stopped.
For the first time in years, something unfamiliar crept into his expression.
Caution.
"…Be careful, boy," Danzō said slowly. "Power attracts attention."
Shikamaru met his gaze.
For a split second, Danzō felt it.
Not killing intent.
Not chakra pressure.
Something deeper.
Like standing on the edge of a bottomless pit that was quietly deciding whether he mattered.
Then it vanished.
Shikamaru yawned. "Noted."
Danzō turned and left without another word.
Night – Nara Compound
Shikaku Nara watched his son from the porch as Shikamaru walked in.
"You had an interesting first day," Shikaku said casually.
Shikamaru froze.
"…You spying on me?"
Shikaku smirked. "The shadows told me."
For the first time all day, Shikamaru smiled genuinely.
"Heh. Figures."
They stood together, watching the moon rise.
Shikaku spoke quietly. "Whatever you're hiding… don't rush. The board's big. The game's long."
Shikamaru looked at the moon—and the darkness around it.
"Yeah," he said.
"What a drag… but I guess I'll play."
Far above Konoha, the stars burned.
And beneath them, the shadows listened.