Once you captured a Nara´s interest, there´s no escape
Let it be said that Ichiro was not an idiot, nor was he oblivious.
Quite in the contrary, he made it a habit to take note of everything happening around him, because that´s the only way to have all the necessary information should something ever happen and he needed to retaliate or protect his little brother and his friend.
So even as he was smug over his win against Jiro, who continued to moan about losing and him cheating, he was aware of what was happening around him.
Namely the fact that now the table next to them was occupied.
Truth to be told, Ichiro hadn´t expected much. He only heard the way the waitress led someone over and then left, so he didn´t bother looking up for too long, until he realized that the man – young adult, more likely, judging by the youthful appearance and younger features – had not made a single sound. No breathing, no rustling of clothes, no footsteps as he had approached the table and no noise as he had sat down.
Despite the presence of someone being there, there was an utter lack of something to identify a presence by, which somehow made sense, but at the same time did not.
The young adult´s chakra was suppressed, just enough to appear like a civilian, but not enough to allow anyone to pull some sort of information out of it. Granted, Ichiro was not a sensor, even if he was above average for most, so what would he know about that.
Overall, he could safely deduce that this person was a shinobi. Too quiet to be a civilian, too built and trained to be anything else but used to battle.
So, despite the fact that his attention should be with his little brother and on the next game that Shigeo was challenging him to, somehow Ichiro found himself drawn to this person like a moth to flame.
Quite literally.
If Ichiro was a moth, somewhere in the background, rather gray and unassuming and mostly minding his own business, then this man was most definitely the flame to catch his attention.
Despite his chakra being suppressed, the man had a presence that shone bright like a beacon of light if one looked enough. But alas, once you noticed him, you couldn´t look away, even if you wanted to.
Blonde hair hung loosely over the man´s shoulders, bright in a shade he had never seen. Yamanaka were usually blonde, but even those shades were pale and ashen more than whatever shining bright blonde this was. He´d seen some blondes in the land of lighting that had a similar color, but not quite as vibrant as his either.
His eyes were much the same. Beautiful and rich in color, mirroring a deep sea blue that one could get lost in if they ended up looking for too long. Big, curious, but more importantly, kind eyes, so unlikely for a shinobi. Most shinobi´s lights tend to have dulled, as they suffered from battle and loss. But this man here still had hope in his eyes. Determination that was almost borderline stubbornness and sheer refusal to give in.
His skin was tan, different than most clans that resided in the land of fire. Nara themselves tended to have rather pale skin, as did the Yamanaka, the Uchiha and the Hyuuga for example. Those with warmer skin tones tended to be the Senju and sometimes the Akimichi.
But somehow, Ichiro knew that this man belonged to neither clan, even with his odd coloring.
His face was marked with three black lines of each side, giving the illusion of this man having whiskers, like a cat – or more like a fox, maybe?
Something in the back of his mind told Ichiro that that comparison is vital information, so trusting his instincts, he stored it back for later use.
It was unsure whether these were scars or clan markings. They were too even and too deliberately placed to be actual scars, but Ichiro couldn´t recall any clan with these kind of markings either. Birthmarks then, maybe? But still, they seemed strange, even if they were oddly fitting on the blonde´s face, not at all out of place.
Aside from those scars, markings or whatever they were, the mans showed absolutely no actual scars or no uneven places that suggested injury in battle. Nothing on his bare arms, nor on his face, or even on what little he could see of the collarbone. Even the young man´s hands seemed to free from any callouses that usually came with handling weapons, which greatly confused the Nara.
Was he not a shinobi after all? Was Ichiro overthinking this? Could be the case, since the Nara had often been accused of doing that.
Well, that didn´t matter in the end, Ichiro mused, slightly annoyed as Shigeo tried to trap him, making him skillfully evading falling into said trap. The reaction wasn´t clear, but the slight twitch of the eyebrow from Shigeo was enough to let him know that they both knew.
Movement in the corner of his vision caught his eyes and once again he found himself throwing a subtle sideways glance towards the man at the next table.
The stranger had tilted his head to the side in a curious animal like way – like a curious fox, his mind supplied – and his eyes were fixed on the board.
Oh. It seemed like they had an observer during this game then. Despite the gesture from the stranger being subtle, the Nara could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed that he was indeed thinking about whatever was going on on their shogi board.
Ichiro didn´t mind. The man had no malicious intent whatsoever, and while he was suspicious, there was no reason to immediately assume the worst. He would be on guard, naturally, but he wouldn´t do anything about it just yet. Maybe he was just a stranger interested in board games. Ichiro himself was, so who was he to shame other people for it.
“You´re playing differently than before, Ichiro.” Jiro mused, finally having gotten over his grudge after losing, and leaned forward to observe the game.
It was true. While one would win against Jiro best when attacking and laying multiple decoys as confusion, Shigeo was most likely to lose if the game was played on defensive. A long term strategy to tire him out and then strike when seeing weakness.
“It is in one´s nature to adapt to the opponent you´re playing against, little brother. The reason you´re always losing is because you´re predictable. Be unpredictable for once.”
Suddenly, a badly suppressed snort came from the other table and the trio turned their heads just in time to see the blonde turn away and slap his hand in front of his mouth in an attempt to muffle his amusement, and quite obviously failing.
Jiros eyes narrowed in offense, but before he could say anything the waitress came back with a drink for the man, placing it in front of the blond. “Here you go sir, would you like anything else?” She intently focused on him, flushed ears and wide eyes, patiently waiting for whatever he was going to say.
Then, the man smiled.
Ichiro felt he was going to go blind.
Screw being a flame, his entire appearance mirrored that of a sun, or at least it felt like looking into one. Bright, warm and comforting in a way the Nara has never seen such a simple gesture for a stranger be. His smile was all white, teeth flashing and exposing fangs at the sides – a fox, his mind chanted, this time louder than before – and so big that the whiskers on his face scrunched up in an absolutely endearing way. Just so you know, Ichiro hardly described anything as endearing, safe for his brat of a little brother, but this man fit the description well.
A practiced and easygoing smile, as grateful as it was sheepish.
Well, needless to say the flush on the woman´s face just got a little brighter, the Nara mused in amusement.
“Ah, thank you, miss, but that will be it for me.” His voice was warm – As was pretty much anything else about the man. That little bit of presence he could feel, his color scheme, his eyes and his smile. The earlier comparisons had not been exaggerated – and kind as he spoke, like an upbeat melody.
The woman almost squeaked and her voice got an octave higher as she bowed and quickly excused herself.
Too thrown off by the interaction, Ichiro could tell that Jiro had no desire to pick the topic back up again. It would be too troublesome to poke at it when it has already passed, so instead he glared at the stranger one last time, who seemed entirely unaffected, and went back to watching the match.
“If you´re not going to pay attention to the game you´re going to lose this match, Ichiro-kun.” Shigeo teased as he moved his next piece. Said Nara only scoffed and retaliated, not at all bothered by the man´s talkative and teasing tendencies.
“I´m paying enough attention to know that you´re bluffing. Checkmate.”
Utter silence fell over the group as he finished his move, ultimately trapping Shigeo´s king and therefore ending the game. The green eyed man spluttered, reeled back and then proceeded to lean forward again, eyes narrowed and desperately looking for where he went wrong.
“Wha- that doesn´t make any sense at all!” He hissed, most likely going through all of the moves in his mind. Ichiro patiently waited, leaning back with a smirk and letting his friend figure it out himself. Not even a minute later, there was a groan and Shigeo ran a hand down his face, finally having realized his mistake.
“Troublesome. I should have seen that.”
This time, there was another short bust of muffled laughter from the table beside them. Much like the last time, their heads turned to see the man with the shining blonde hair holding his laughter – and failing – while clear amusement danced in those blue eyes of his.
“Something funny?” Shigeo, done with this man´s antics, snapped at him. Jiro too looked like he wanted to say something, but the reaction of the man threw him off enough to keep his mouth shut for now.
The blonde simply smiled, much like he did with the waitress. There was no mockery behind it, only sheer amusement to himself, not at their expense. He even looked a little sheepish as his hand raised to the back of his neck, rubbing it in a somewhat apologetic gesture.
“No, no, sorry for that. I couldn´t help but be reminded of my friend. He too was always complaining about me being too troublesome when it came to shogi with the exact same tone of annoyance and exasperation. I apologize, you just reminded me of him a lot.” There was a hint of sadness to that tone, but it was mostly overshadowed by the absolute fondness in his voice when he spoke of his “friend”. For some reason, Ichiro could feel himself sharing a similar feeling of nostalgia, even when this had nothing to do with him at all.
Judging by the surprised reactions from Jiro and Shigeo, they could feel it as well.
What was that feeling?
Ichiro was the one to break the strange atmosphere, leaning back in his chair and playing it cool while he calmly regarded the man apologizing.
“You play shogi?”
The blonde nodded, the smile still not leaving his face, even if he did lower his hand onto the table by now. “Yes, I do. Well, at least from time to time. It´s been a while since I played though.”
Surprisingly it was Jiro who asked the next question, wary and still kind of offended gaze fixed on the stranger. “Are you good at it? You should be, since you´re apparently thinking high enough of yourself to be laughing about how we´re playing – ack!” With an exasperated sigh, Ichiro whacked his younger brother over the head, shutting him up effectively.
“Excuse my younger brother, he´s rude from time to time. I promise he has manners, he just forgets how to use them.” The Nara drawled, making sure to keep his eyes on his younger brother, silently conveying his disappointment and wordlessly chiding him to behave.
Jiro clicked his tongue and muttered a petulant apology, not even looking the man in the eyes, but the blonde wasn´t offended in the least. If he was, he didn´t show it, that is.
“It´s fine, really. I did probably offend him first, didn´t I?” at the wordless glare that was very obviously a confirmation, the man snorted.
“I wasn´t laughing at the way you played, nor at you. I was laughing at the words your brother spoke.” The man explained, making Jiro´s eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“To play more unpredictably?” Shigeo asked, just as confused as Jiro but not as obvious in showing it. Ichiro simply raised a thin eyebrow, cataloging the man´s expressions and motions as he spoke.
“Exactly that,” he chuckled. It was a warm sound, which once again baffled the Nara. A person can be warm, certainly, but this man seemed to be an incarnation of that word. Everything he did seemed bright and comforting, like he wasn´t capable of doing any evil at all. There was no malicious intent, no mockery in his tone. Simple amusement and fondness that came so incredibly easy and effortlessly it was almost scary.
He continued, waving a hand in the air as if trying to gesture to old memories, “I was always told that my playing was incredibly annoying, precisely because it was unpredictable. Too unpredictable, my friend would have told me. It was the irony of that statement that made me laugh.”
Well, wasn´t that interesting, Ichiro thought, smirk reappearing on his face.
Apparently Jiro knew exactly what he was thinking and was shooting him a warning look, telling him to exactly not do what he was apparently going to do, but Ichiro, not one to back down from what looked like a challenge, was definitely going to do what he wanted to do.
With a huff and a tilt of his head, Ichiro smirked, clearly offering a challenge.
“Would you care for a match?”
.
This certainly wasn´t what Naruto was expecting out of today, but he sure as hell wouldn´t be complaining.
When had been the last time someone invited him to a friendly match of shogi?
Shikamaru, his thoughts supplied, and Naruto immediately squashed down the oncoming feelings of pain and the stinging feeling of loss that followed each memory of his friends that he lost.
Naruto and Shikamaru had occasionally played shogi at his friend´s compound from time to time, in between the Akatsuki missions. The Nara´s parents had always been alright with him being there, and even as kids, Shikaku had never forbid Shikamaru to play with him, making the Nara one of his very first and most important friends.
With his incredible wits, his caring personality, his iron will whenever he put his mind to something, and his undying loyalty, Naruto had always known that Shikamaru was a good person. There had been a reason that his lazy friend had been his advisor during their time. Shikamaru had been someone irreplaceable for him.
In the way that Sasuke was the moon to Naruto´s sun, where each gave their own light and had their own purpose in the sky, both of them being rivals while also coexisting together in harmony, Shikamaru was the shadow to his light. The one who had his back when darkness threatened to swallow him and skillfully manipulated said darkness to his will. The shadow user to his light powers.
Shikamaru was not his soulmate, not like Sasuke had been, but the Nara had been his pillar in the times he needed him the most. And in return, Naruto did his best to protect and embrace his friend, keeping him by his side as a steady variable in his life.
Naruto had held Shikamaru dearly, and his death hit hard.
“Don´t give up, Naruto. Ever. I won´t be by your side to be your advisor anymore, but you´ll do just fine without me by now. You´ve grown, and many people depend on you, so show them exactly who you are. You´re Uzumaki Naruto, the most unpredictable ninja. You´re our hope.”
Naruto was shaking as he held his dear friend, grasping his hand in one hand and stabilizing his head with the other. Ino and Choji were gone, there had been no one left from his team, so Shikamaru clung to him in his last moment, eyes shining in hope and lips quirked up in amusement even in his last moments.
That damned smirk that he wore whenever something was going well for him. Naruto hated that he wore it as he was dying, as the blood of his friend stained his hands and his shirt, seeping out of the gaping wound. The life was slowly sleeping out of him and the beat of his heart slowed to dangerously low levels.
The blonde shook, clutching their hands tight together and leaning forward to put his forehead against Shikamaru´s. A last moment of closure, the last bit of intimacy and warmth eh would be able to share before his friend turned into a corps and his body would have to be disposed, lest they wanted Kaguya to turn him into one of the white Zetsu.
Oh, how those words had hurt him. How he´d wanted to scream into Shikamaru´s face that what he said was a horrible lie, that he could not live without his friend. Not Naruto. Not he, who got attached too quickly and trusted too wholeheartedly, whose entire purpose was finding bonds. He would not be able to live without his very first friend, the one who had never looked at him like he was a monster.
Yes, in the Nara´s eyes, especially during their childhood, he had been an idiot. But that had not been the case because he was Naruto, but because everyone but Choji had been an idiot in the small and lazy child´s eyes. Shikamaru gave him a sense of normalcy, and Naruto gifted him his loyalty in return.
So, in the end, Naruto accepted the game simply because it caused a wave of nostalgia and good memories to wash over him. Memories of when Shikamaru would groan about him being too dam troublesome to play with, because there was no strategy the Nara could brace against. Because somehow, despite playing by the rules, Naruto seemed to do things that – and he quoted – “should not be allowed to be done, because damn it who even thinks of playing like that. It´s so stupid that it´s smart, and it´s getting too damn troublesome.”
So, yes, Naruto did admit that he enjoyed playing, if only to pose a challenge to his resident Nara.
Now, another Nara had challenged him and well – who was he to back down from that?
He grinned, standing up from his seat and taking the drink into his hand. “Sure, a match sounds great. Mind if I sit down?”
The man with the high ponytail, Shigeo, Naruto´s brain supplied, grumbled slightly but moved aside anyway, giving him enough pace to push his chair in between his and Jiro´s, the latter of whom sent him a dirty and slightly suspicious, but also very smug look.
“You´re not going to win against elder brother. He´s the best in our age group, and you seem way younger.” It was probably supposed to be a jab at him, but Naruto found he didn´t mind. It was actually very entertaining to see a Nara, who were usually portrayed as rather laid back and prone to keeping out of trouble, to have such a sharp tongue and provoking tendencies.
Naruto huffed, amused, before shrugging and sitting down, facing his opponent. “Age says nothing about a person. Your brother might be very good, a genius even, but he wouldn´t be the first genius I´ve been put against, nor would he be the first to be frustrated with me. I´m told I´m pretty good at that.” Naruto was very much smug about that.
Yes, he had grown up around a lot of prodigies during his time. Neiji who had been a prodigy in his clan despite being a branch member, Sasuke who had been way too good at things for being a genin and who had been incredibly talented, Shikamaru with his genius skills and an IQ over two hundred, Kakashi-sensei who was a renowned genius and an early graduate of the academy, Sakura who, despite being a civilian, managed to keep up with him and Sasuke to a certain extent and had been the smartest kunoichi in their class. He could go on about all the talented people he had met, all the people that had been incredibly in their skills and with their wits.
He could also continue to list of people who had been way smarter than he had been, but ended up so incredibly frustrated with him because his stupidity was somehow its own brand of genius, and his stubbornness caused most of them to despair.
Ichiro took that as a challenge as well, and tilted his head back, regarding him once again as they set up the board.
“Good at what? Annoying geniuses?”
Naruto snorted. “Amongst other things, yes.”
This caused Ichiro to chuckle as well. “Then I certainly hope you do your best, stranger-san.” At Naruto´s surprised blinking, the man simply shrugged. “It´s what I´ve been calling you in my head.”
Laughing, Naruto sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck again. “I should have introduced myself first, shouldn´t I?”
He grinned, holding out a hand for the Nara to shake.
“You can call me Naruto, Nara-san.”
.
Ichiro was going to rage quit and go bury himself under a doton jutsu, because frankly –
What the fuck?
The way this man, Naruto, he had told them, was playing, was an absolute pain in the ass.
Nothing made sense. The way he was playing was so incredibly unorthodox that Ichiro was going to rip his hair out.
On the inside at least. On the outside, he appeared calm and calculating, even if Shigeo and Jiro could very clearly recognize his distress. Alas, both of them were just as confused as he was, because who wouldn´t be?
Normally, offensive players tended to sacrifice some pieces in order to get a leeway of attacking. Defensive players tended to keep their pieces to themselves and push forward as a whole, like a barrier slowly moving forward. Obviously, those weren´t the only playing styles, but offense and defensive are usually the categories everything is sorted in. It was a way to find out more about the player themselves, because the way they moved their pieces represented their strategic and logical thinking, as well as their personality.
None of that with Naruto.
If Ichiro had to categorize the man, he was definitely an offensive player. Marching forward with intent and seemingly no strategy behind it, making Ichiro think during the first half of their game that this would be a relatively easy win.
Ichiro was going to go back in time and strangle his past self for thinking that.
Because whatever this man was doing, it was working. The attacks were all over the placer with no clear formation or thought behind it, leaving the shogi board in utter chaos, but somehow the damage on Naruto´s side was still held to a minimum. Despite attacking – that couldn´t even be called attacking, Naruto was razing this board to the ground – he suffered little loss.
Not only that, but there was no way Ichiro could predict any of his goddamn movements, and if he did manage, then that was because of Naruto making a mistake, and not because of Ichiro breaking and figuring out the pattern.
In fact, he was far from understanding what was going on.
Normally, when playing, Ichiro would have at least seven different ways his opponent could move and their actions after that figured out, but this bastard somehow came up with an eight option that Ichiro hadn´t even seen or thought to be possible, but the man was playing by the rules and it was all fair game.
Naruto was thinking in ways Ichiro could not understand.
He was no genius, Ichiro could tell, because geniuses, those he had met at least, played differently. But he wasn´t inexperienced either, and nor was it simple luck that he was pulling all this off.
But how does one even understand a mind as jumbled as that?
There was no doubt anymore. Ichiro did not doubt for a single second that whatever genius might have crossed him in actual battle, would have been frustrated to no end. Because if he was fighting the same way he was playing, then he sincerely pitied whatever poor soul went up against him.
A glance away from the board told him that Naruto seemed to be pretty relaxed during all of this. Despite the slight frown on his face, there was still an easygoing smile.
Naruto, noticing his eyes on him, looked up as well and met his gaze. Cerulean blue clashed with dark brown and amusement danced in the blonde´s eyes.
“Are you okay, Nara-san? You seem a little lost.” The bastard had the audacity to giggle at that and Ichiro had the creeping feeling that the man knew exactly just what kind of crisis he was going through.
The man sighed long-sufferingly, running a hand through his hair and brushing back the loose strands back behind his ears. “Just Ichiro is fine, we will get confused otherwise,” the Nara commented offhandedly, before answering his question, “Honestly? I am. Because frankly, whatever you´re doing makes absolutely zero sense, but the fact that it´s working is very annoying. You weren´t joking when you said you´re playing unpredictably.”
Naruto chuckled, moving his next piece and setting it down with a silent click. Next to him he could hear Shigeo mutter a low curse, and Ichiro privately shared that sentiment because right now the blonde had forced him into a tight place.
“Of course I wasn´t. I wasn´t called the most unpredictable ninja for nothing, you know?”
No one was surprised at the revelation of the man being a shinobi, not truly, but they were surprised that he so easily admitted to it.
However, none of them commented on that. Instead, Jiro made a face and looked at Naruto like he wasn´t quite believing whet he was hearing.
“People have actually been calling you that?” His voice was filled with doubt, clearly showing his opinion on that piece of information, but Naruto just huffed, puffing his chest up like he was proud of that.
“Of course they have. Well, my friends have been calling me that. It´s been an inside joke in our group and I´ve proudly held that title ever since I was twelve. Still am, if I do say so myself.” – Privately, Naruto thought that it might have just started earlier. He might have earned himself that name the very first time he beat the Sandaime by using his sexy Jutsu and successfully knocking him out, before stealing the hidden stash of candy that Naruto knew the old man kept hidden in his drawer the day after the lady at the sweets store refused to give him any. But no one needed to know that small piece of information.
“What did you do to deserve that kind of title?” Shigeo asked, regarding him with a mildly suspicious glance. Ichiro noted the way that Shigeo seemed more open towards Naruto by now.
Naruto just gave him a deadpan look and, dead serious, replied, “You really don´t want to know.”
And that was that. They definitely heeded his warning on that one.
“Well, Naruto-san, for saying that you haven´t played shogi in a long time, you´re really giving me a run for my money. I´m impressed, and I don´t say this lightly.” Ichiro admitted, moving his next peace and successfully regaining some sort of control over the game.
Promptly, Naruto took that away with his next move once again, setting him into check. Not yet checkmate, but it was a damn close call. Close enough for Jiro to inhale air sharply and curse lowly in anticipation for Ichiro´s next move.
“It´s true, though. The last time I´ve played was – what? Three years ago, maybe? Two? I lost my sense of time after a while.” Naruto´s voice was somber and suddenly the air around them chilled just a little. A wave of sadness and regret hit them like a tide, cold and unforgiving, and Ichiro found himself suppressing a shudder.
How? This is the second time this has happened. The first time, Ichiro had thought it to be a mistake or an figment of his imagination, but this time the emotion was so clear in the air that for one moment Ichiro couldn´t tell if it had been his own emotion or not. And that feeling was so incredibly uncanny, knowing that these were Naruto´s emotions that he displayed just now.
Naruto noticed them being uncomfortable somehow, despite the fact that Ichiro was sure he didn´t give any hint at all, and almost immediately the feeling was gone again. The air felt light again and Ichiro could breathe normally.
“I apologize. This sometimes happens and I forget that not everyone is used to feeling emotions. I´ll try and keep it at bay –“
“Wait just one second, did you say feel emotions? You feel emotions?” Jiro asked, expression genuinely bewildered.
Naruto frowned and tilted his head to the side innocently, like he didn´t know what there was to be surprised about. “Yes? I´m a sensor, so I can sense emotions in someone´s chakra as well. Sometimes, I tend to leak my chakra in response, and people have always told me that it´s really expressive and uncomfortable for those who aren´t used to it.”
Ichiro was baffled.
Sensing emotions? In someone´s chakra nonetheless. He knew that some Inuzuka could smell emotions, but that´s because of specific hormones being released, so they´re not really smelling emotions, but rather identifying the hormones. Actually sensing and physically feeling the emotions of someone else like this was unheard of.
This man was a mystery. Not only his personality, but his mind and his skill, as well as the way he was thinking. A mystery, despite being seemingly open about what he could and couldn´t do.
A mystery you want to solve, his traitorous mind whispered, and Ichiro found himself agreeing without much protest.
He wanted to know who this man was. What his goals were and where he came from. He wanted to study his behavior and be able to predict his moves, no matter how jumbled and unpredictable it all seemed to be.
Distantly he was aware that this was the side of him, of most Nara´s, that could get dangerous if entertained for too long. The side that was thirsty for knowledge and clinging to whatever caught their interest until they have fully dissected it and found out everything about it. There was a reason a Nara´s intelligence was feared after all. Once they had their eyes on you, nothing escaped their minds. Not a single piece of information about you will be lost or neglected and you will be viewed as a puzzle, meant for them to solve.
Naruto was his new puzzle, he realized with somewhat muted horror, but also little surprise.
From the moment he spotted the man, Ichiro had been captivated by his presence. It was bound to happen.
Truly, drawn to him like a moth to flame.
He was ripped out of his thoughts when he suddenly heard Shigeo and Jiro choking, and Naruto sheepishly chuckling.
“Ah, by the way, Ichiro-san, sorry to interrupt your thoughts,” The man called out before pointing to the board with a fox like grin, all sly and mischievous. “Checkmate.”
Ichiro stared.
Then stared some longer.
Then he cursed.
His mind had been distracted for one second, dammit, how in the world –
Absolutely unacceptable.
“I want a rematch and you have no right to refuse.”