Day 2

This is part one of what I plan to be a multi-part short story. This installment is acceptable for readers of all ages. Later installments will likely contain explicit content.

Tags: After Omnipotence, SaraShikaBoru, Creative Ways of Resolving Office Tension, Guilt, Confessions, It's Complicated, Bi-bi-bi (Justin Timberlake Voice)

There were nights when his father came home late from work and nights when he didn’t come home at all. Upon those latter occasions, his mother would always shake her head and say, “If your father ever leaves the Hokage’s Office, it’s going to take two people to replace him.”

Growing up, Shikadai couldn’t fathom his father ever leaving his position as the Hokage’s advisor. Of course, he couldn’t imagine Lord Seventh disappearing, the entire world trapped in an illusory memory, or his father becoming Hokage, either. And it was precisely that series of events that led Shikamaru to step down from his role after Naruto’s return.

“I can’t be effective anymore,” Shikadai overheard him saying to his mother one night as they shared warmed sake at their kitchen table. “I was justified in my actions, but I still defied the village council and betrayed the Daimyo’s will. Even if they have faith in Naruto, they don’t have faith in me.”

There was a pause, one in which he could imagine his mother taking a sip of sake, the small cup in her strong grasp. “You’ll displease the clan elders,” she said. “They take pride in your position. If that’s the reason you give him, they’ll say you resigned in disgrace.”

His father hummed, the faint scape of a lighter igniting filling the silence. Even with his back to the wall, Shikadai could see the image of his father sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“That you did it for your health,” his mother snaps.

“Oi! Give me that back.” His father yelps, and there’s a brief scuffle in the other room. Holding his breath, Shikadai glances around the corner in time to see his mother snatch the cigarette from his father’s mouth and mash it into the ashtray.

“Tell them you couldn’t stop smoking if you kept working there.”

Thus, that became the official explanation: In his late 30s, Shikamaru Nara left his position at Naruto’s side to care for his health and quit smoking, choosing instead to focus on clan affairs. And because that’s what he said, he had to stick to it—a victory for his mother as well.

As it turned out, two people weren’t enough to fill his father’s shoes and over the past four years, administrative positions were created and restructured over and over to come close to the level of efficiency with which the Hokage’s Office was run in his tenure. And just when it’d reached a functional stasis, Konohamaru put in for parental leave before the birth of his daughter.

Standing in front of the Hokage’s desk, Shikadai reviews this series of events in his head as a way of reminding himself how he ended up here, hands tucked behind his back while Naruto surveyed the two younger shinobi across from his desk as though they’d just returned from a disappointing mission.

“Just like on the battlefield, it takes teamwork, you know?” the Hokage declares, a kind smile on a face that’d been collecting worrylines since he returned to Konoha four years ago.

“Yes, sir.” The woman next to him answers first, chin held high, eyes aimed forward. Probably the only person in the village more ashamed to be admonished by Lord Seventh than Shikadai himself.

“If there’s an issue, I trust that you can resolve it…” Lord Seventh leans forward, elbows propped up on his desk. As if to further illustrate the point, he interlaces his fingers to demonstrate them coming together. “...together.”

“Yes, sir,” Shikadai says quickly before she can best him once again.

“Good!” Lord Seventh beams at them as though his very unhelpful pep talk, pointing out there’s a problem when both of the people he’s addressing know darn well that there’s a problem, had made significant strides to resolve the matter. “You two have a good weekend then!”

With that, they’re stuck walking down the hallway together, down the stairs and out the back door with the same Boruto-shaped silence that’s always between them.

I trust that you can resolve it.

Shikadai frowns to himself. There was something unfortunately effective about Naruto’s pithy optimism, something he himself as a leader might want to learn now that he and Sarada were sharing duties as the Hokage’s advisors. It’d felt vapid at the time, but the longer those words linger in his head, the more they sink their claws in.

The outside air is as warm as the late afternoon light, the orange glow of sunset turning the green leaves a dusty gray. As the door closes behind them, Shikadai turns one way and Sarada the other, a wordless parting.

One step. Two. Three. Four.

Shikadai turns around to find that she’s already turned around as well, a determined look on her face that would have scared him if he’d encountered it in battle. She stares at him from behind her golden glasses, judgmental as always.

“Maybe we should get a drink,” he says.

Sarada nods, some similar thoughts already in her mind. “Come on, then.”