Chapter 5
Twelve years had passed since the dust settled on the Great Ninja War. Naruto, the boisterous hero who dreamt of becoming Hokage, now held the very title he yearned for. Shikamaru, ever the strategist, stood faithfully by his side as advisor, fulfilling the pledge he made during the war: to watch over Naruto.
Fatherhood suited Shikamaru surprisingly well. His son, Shikadai, inherited his father's tactical mind and laconic wit, a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for Temari, his wife.
Naruto, too, reveled in his role as a father, his unruly mop of blonde hair now framing a face etched with the responsibilities of leadership. His two children, Boruto, the energetic eldest, and Himawari, the spirited youngest, were the light of his life.
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One day, a mission undertaken by the new generation's Team Seven – Boruto, Sarada, and Mitsuki, led by the enthusiastic Konohamaru – brought a new mystery to their doorstep. Their investigation into the strange mark on Boruto's palm,known as Karma, led them to an unconscious boy named Kawaki lying deep within a forest.
Back in the village, Naruto had Kawaki's observation together with Konohamaru and Shikamaru. As Shikamaru gazed at the boy's pale face in the sterile hospital room, a jolt of déjà vu lanced through him.
This wasn't the first time they'd found an unconscious stranger matters. Years ago, a similar situation had unfolded… a young girl, battered and bruised, laid before the Konohagakure gates.
Shikamaru strained his memory, desperately trying to recall the girl's name. The past, however, remained stubbornly veiled, forcing him to shift his focus to the new enigma – Kawaki – and the secrets he might hold.
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Dust motes danced in the pale light filtering through the high windows of the Konohagakure Library.
Now, with the ancient scroll unfurled before him, Shikamaru's breath hitched. The faded ink spoke of a hidden name, an individual cloaked in secrecy for years. And at the heart of it all, a single name – Hikari.
Twelve years after the war, the responsibility he pledged to Naruto – to watch his back as Hokage – felt heavier than ever. Now, not only was the village threatened by a new enemy, but the past, long thought buried, had clawed its way back, demanding answers. The discovery of Hikari's name was just the beginning. The true challenge lay in unraveling the secrets she held, secrets that could change the course of the future.
Her name, a whisper on his lips after years of silence. The silence of the library pressed against him. He needed a starting point, something concrete. His mind drifted back to Tsunade's interrogation. What had they discussed? The Akatsuki fragment. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.
The revelation hit Shikamaru like a cold shower. After days of poring over classified documents, nights spent meditating to jog his memory, and leveraging his advisor status to access top-secret information, there it was in black and white:
Hikari's past held no connection to the mysterious boy Kawaki or the Karma mark.
Disappointment gnawed at him, a deflated feeling settling in his stomach.
Yet, a strange warmth lingered amidst the disappointment. As the initial frustration subsided, memories flickered to life – not of some hidden connection to a dangerous threat, but of a girl with bright olive eyes and an infectious smile. He remembered the quiet afternoons spent by her bedside in the hospital, the anticipation that bubbled in his chest whenever he visited.
A pang of guilt stabbed at him.
He'd been so consumed by the mission, by unraveling the mystery, that he'd forgotten the human connection beneath it all.
Shikamaru pushed back from his desk, the weight of the classified files suddenly oppressive. He yearned for something simpler, a genuine conversation, a friendly face.
The image of Hikari, years younger, filled his mind.
"What am I doing?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
He wasn't chasing some grand conspiracy; he simply wanted to see her, to find out how she was doing.
With a newfound resolve, Shikamaru set off for the hospital. He didn't know if she was still there, if she even remembered him. But a spark of hope flickered within him, a desire to reconnect with a piece of his past he'd unintentionally neglected. Perhaps, this time, their meeting wouldn't be shrouded in secrecy or burdened by hidden agendas. Maybe, this time, it would just be Shikamaru and Hikari, two people catching up after a long time apart.
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Shikamaru found himself leading a double life.
By day, the esteemed advisor to the Hokage, strategizing missions and navigating the political landscape of Konoha.
By night, a ghost flitting through the shadows, a shadow himself. His investigation had split, a necessary evil.
On one hand, he delved into Kawaki's murky past, a task entrusted to him by Naruto. This involved coded messages with collaborating villages, interrogation techniques that danced on the line of propriety, and late nights spent deciphering cryptic scrolls.
But a different kind of fire burned within him when it came to Hikari. He had no official mission, no team to back him up. This was a solo venture, fueled by a mix of guilt and a burgeoning curiosity.
He scoured the Konoha library after dark, poring over dusty medical records and personnel files. He questioned retired nurses, their memories fading like photographs left out in the sun. Each dead end felt like a punch to the gut, yet he persisted.
The weight of his secret was a heavy cloak. He couldn't confide in Naruto – revealing Hikari's existence could open a can of worms the village wasn't ready for.
Temari, his ever-observant wife, cast him curious glances, her brow furrowing at his late nights and distracted demeanor.
Shikadai, his son, a constant source of pride, deserved his father's full attention. Yet, a part of Shikamaru couldn't help but compartmentalize, pushing his family concerns aside with a promise to himself to make it up to them later.
One evening, exhausted from a particularly grueling interrogation, Shikamaru stumbled upon a glimmer of hope. A faded inscription on a chipped teacup in the hospital archives – "For Hikari." It wasn't much, but it was a lead, a fragile thread connecting him to the past.
He clutched the teacup, a surge of determination coursing through him. He wouldn't let this trail go cold. He owed it to Hikari, and perhaps, a small part of him, to himself. The weight of the secret remained, but tonight, it felt a little lighter, replaced by a flicker of hope.
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Three years.
Three excruciating years had crawled by since Konoha's world had shattered. Naruto and Hinata vanished, their absence disguised as a tragic "death" by Boruto, thanks to the insidious memory manipulation of Eida, a member of the nefarious Kara organization.
It was all a twisted play orchestrated by Kawaki, a desperate attempt to shield his adopted parents from the clutches of Code, another Kara member bent on unleashing the monstrous ten-tailed beast upon Konoha.
Shikamaru, burdened by the weight of leadership, had reluctantly donned the mantle of acting Hokage. The whispers of the villagers had morphed – "Shikamaru the Nara," they called him now, a moniker tinged with both respect and a tinge of pity. He was burdened by the memory-altering jutsu himself, the constant urge to hunt Boruto a nagging echo in the back of his mind.
Sleep evaded him, replaced by nightmares and the crushing weight of responsibility. Konoha was rebuilding, but the scars ran deep. Every smiling face held a ghost of suspicion, every laugh an undercurrent of fear. Hope, once a vibrant flame in the village, flickered like a dying ember.
Then, one dreary afternoon, a flicker of light pierced through the oppressive gloom. A young woman with familiar olive eyes, now framed by glasses, approached his desk.
"Lord Eighth," she greeted with a bow, her voice a melody from a forgotten dream. "Miss Ino Yamanaka sent me. I'm Hikari, the new archivist."
Shikamaru felt a jolt course through him, a surge of emotions he'd long suppressed. Longing, curiosity, and a flicker of something he couldn't quite define warred within him. He was the Hokage, burdened with the fate of the village. He couldn't afford distractions, let alone personal connections.
He cleared his throat, forcing a flat neutrality into his voice.
"Welcome abroad, Hikari. Looking forward to see your skills." His gaze flickered away from her, ached with the memories he couldn't fully grasp.
A faint smile touched Hikari's lips.
"Thank you, Lord Eighth. I'll do my best to serve Konoha."
With another bow, she left, leaving Shikamaru drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions.
He stared at the empty space where Hikari had just stood, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
"After no result investigation about you, you just returned here just like that?" he muttered internally, the weight of the past three years settling even heavier on his shoulders.
But somewhere beneath it all, a spark of hope had ignited. Hikari's return was a puzzle piece, its place in the larger picture yet unknown. But in a world shrouded in darkness, even the faintest glimmer of light could be a beacon of change.
This could be the turning point Shikamaru desperately needed. Perhaps, with Hikari's help, he could unravel the mysteries of the past and restore hope to Konoha. The path ahead was treacherous, but with a renewed sense of purpose flickering within him, Shikamaru, the Nara who carried the weight of the village, was ready to face the challenge.
To be continued.