Chapter Text
There was a man in her forest.
Well, Naruko knew it wasn’t really her forest. Nobody owned the woods. Except maybe Hokage-jiji.
Still, Naruko liked to think of them as hers. They were one of the few places in the village where she could be left alone. No one to bother her or scowl at her or throw food at her.
Really, it was her favorite place in the world. Even the deer here were nice!
Now, though… Naruko squinted up at the stranger. The man was tall (everyone was tall compared to her) with shoulder length brown hair and a dark red headband. It wasn’t someone she recognized but that wasn’t all that unusual. Despite how alike all the people seemed to be, Konoha was a pretty big village.
“Um, hello.” Naruko said after an uncomfortable beat of silence. She didn’t want to be rude.
The man smiled, crouching down to her level. “Hello, Naruko-chan.”
Her blue eyes widened comically. He was nice! “How do you know my name?”
“You’re famous, Naruko-chan! Not just here, but all over the world.”
“The world?” She knew she was infamous in Konoha (for reasons beyond her understanding) but the whole world… Did that mean everyone hated her?
The man laughed softly. “Hated? No, no. I think people misunderstand you. That’s all.” He tilted his head, studying her with kind, dark eyes. “You must get lonely.”
Lonely? No one ever asked her that.
Naruko shifted nervously. “A little,” she admitted, cheeks burning. “But it’s okay! I’m training a lot. And someday I’ll be really strong, so people have to listen—”
“I believe it.” His smile widened. “You remind me of someone very precious to me.” He extended a hand. “Walk with me?”
Naruko blinked. No one ever asked her to walk with them. People usually avoided her — crossed the street, pulled their kids away, whispered things she wasn’t supposed to hear.
So when someone offered kindness, even a stranger, she didn’t know what to do. An uneasy feeling bloomed in her chest, but she ignored it.
The man was smiling!
He looked kind. And she wanted—needed—someone to be kind just once.
“O-okay,” she said, hesitantly putting her hand into his.
His grip tightened warmly.
They took three steps.
Just three.
And then—
“Naruko?”
She turned at the familiar voice.
Shikamaru emerged from between two trees, hands shoved in his pockets, brow furrowed. He stared at the stranger, then at her.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked quietly, then added, “Who are you?”
Naruko blinked. “I don’t know. He said he—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Shikamaru cut in, eyes narrowed on the man. “I asked him.”
The man’s pleasant expression thinned. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It does if you’re taking her somewhere.”
Naruko’s stomach twisted. Shikamaru never talked like that. Not to adults. Not to anyone.
The stranger straightened. “Move along, kid. This is none of your business.”
Shikamaru didn’t move.
“This is Nara land, actually. That kinda makes it my business.” He turned his attention back to her. “Naruko,” he said slowly, “you don’t know him.”
The man stood up sharply. “Enough. She’s coming with me.”
Naruko felt a hand clamp onto her shoulder. Hard.
“Ow—hey!” she yelped.
Something hard and metal cracked down on the top of her skull. The hilt of a kunai? Before she could consider it more, the world began to tilt. She fell to her knees and then her elbows, dizzy but conscious.
Shikamaru’s breath hitched as he watched his classmate collapse.
A week ago his father had taught him a technique he wasn’t really supposed to use yet. But the picture of Naruko crumpling to the ground made something cold settle behind his ribs.
He pressed his hands together.
“Shadow Possession Jutsu.”
His shadow darted forward, faster and farther than he had ever managed in training. It caught the man’s silhouette and froze him mid-step.
The stranger looked down, shocked. “What—?”
Shikamaru’s whole body shook from the effort. He’d never held anything bigger than a lazy deer before, and certainly not a grown shinobi.
Naruko stared at him, stunned. “Shika…”
He didn’t answer. His focus was locked on keeping the stranger rooted where he stood.
The man twitched, testing the hold. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A kid?”
Naruko backed away from him, fists clenched.
Shikamaru’s voice came out strained. “Naruko. Stay behind me.”
He turned his head slightly toward the treeline. “Go get Dad.”
The deer who had been watching from the edge of the clearing flicked their ears, then bounded off into the deeper forest without hesitation.
The stranger tried to force a step forward and snarled when his body refused to obey. “Release me.”
Shikamaru’s legs buckled. He dropped to one knee, panting. The edges of his vision blurred from chakra drain, but he held on.
“Shikamru!” Naruko was at his side in a moment, crouching down next to him. It looked as though she’d shaken off the blow from earlier entirely. Absently, Shikamaru envied her resilience.
He breathed out slowly, trying to focus his attention on the enemy in front of him. Just a minute longer, just until his Dad-
As if answering a prayer, branches behind him snapped a moment later.
Shikaku Nara flickered into the clearing, the deer Shikamaru had sent for him at his heels. The older man took in the scene in one sharp sweep.
Not a word was said before he moved.
A single, clean strike to the back of the intruder’s neck dropped the man instantly.
Shikamaru’s shadow released at the same moment his eyes rolled back. He pitched forward, unconscious before he hit the dirt.
“Shika!” Naruko scrambled to him, panic rising, but Shikaku was already there, lifting his son gently.
Shikaku checked his son’s pulse with a practiced hand, exhaling only when he felt the steady rhythm under his fingers. Naruko stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the stranger lying motionless in the dirt. Her knees felt watery, and she kept swallowing as if that would settle the roiling in her stomach.
“We’re going to the Hokage,” Shikaku said, his voice calm but firm. He lifted Shikamaru onto his back with one smooth motion. “Both of you.”
Naruko nodded automatically, though her throat felt tight. She brushed dirt off her shorts with quick, uneven movements. Her hands wouldn’t quite stop shaking. She’d done something wrong again…
Halfway down the forest path, Shikamaru made a low sound against his father’s shoulder.
“Mm… I’m awake,” he mumbled, voice thick.
Naruko slowly exhaled the tight feeling in her chest.
Shikaku made a small, unimpressed noise. “You passed out.”
Shikamaru pried one eye open. “Didn’t. Just… chakra dip.”
His eyelid drooped again, but he twisted enough to find Naruko walking beside them.
“You okay?” he asked, faint but insistent.
Naruko touched her cheek where the ground had scraped her. “Yeah. It didn’t really hurt.” Her voice wobbled on the last word and she hid it quickly with a grin. “I’m okay!”
Shikamaru scowled faintly at the ground, fingers curling slightly in his father’s vest.
The walk to the tower felt longer than usual. Naruko kept glancing at shadows, half-expecting the man to appear again. The forest seemed quieter than before, like a room felt after someone slammed a door.
When they reached the Hokage’s building, two ANBU were already waiting with the bound intruder, masks blank and silent. Naruko’s breath hitched when she saw him again, but she forced herself to keep walking.
“You two, wait here.” Shikaku’s tone was commanding. He placed a stern hand on Naruko’s shoulder before placing his son down on the long bench that sat in the hallway outside the Hokage’s office. Shikamaru immediately slumped into the wall behind him.
“What’re you gonna do?” Naurko asked, moving to sit beside her friend.
“I’ll have to go in and brief the adults on the situation before you two can head in.” His eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, “Don’t wanna bore you guys with the details.”
Shikamaru breathed out a disgruntled huff at that.
“Just wait here for a bit.” Shikaku didn’t spare another glimpse at him before slipping into the office and closing the door behind him.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood with his back to the office window, pipe resting in his hand. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, though he hadn’t taken a puff in several minutes. He watched the village below—children running along the street, a merchant haggling with a customer, shinobi leaping across rooftops—simple rhythms Konoha had always known.
Rhythms that nearly shattered today.
A quiet knock came at the door.
Shikaku entered first, posture straight, expression carved from stone. Behind him, the two civilian councilors slipped inside, followed by Danzo, whose single visible eye swept the room with something sharper than concern.
Hiruzen set his pipe down gently.
“Report,” he said.
Shikaku bowed his head. “My son found Uzumaki Naruko being led out of the village by an enemy shinobi. An Iwa-nin, based on markings and later confirmation.”
Hiruzen’s fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the desk.
“Iwa,” he repeated softly. “They wouldn’t dare attempt a kidnapping so boldly unless—”
“They dared,” Danzo interrupted, stepping forward. Danzo and the civilian counsel had been gathered the moment the incident was reported to the ANBU. The bandages on Danzo’s arm rustled as he adjusted his sleeve. “And they nearly succeeded. Leaving our most valuable asset in the hands of the enemy would have been catastrophic.”
One of the civilian councilors—Koharu—let out a thin, reedy breath.
“Imagine the balance of power if they’d taken her,” she murmured. “It would have been a second Yellow Flash… but against us.”
The other, Homura, nodded grimly. “The village would be left exposed. Vulnerable.”
Shikaku’s jaw twitched, just once, but otherwise he stayed silent.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift.
“Inoichi arrived a few minutes ago,” Shikaku continued. “His techniques confirmed what we suspected of the prisoner.”
Danzo’s eye narrowed with mild interest.
Shikaku’s voice remained level, but his shoulders were tense. “The Iwa-nin was under orders to secure the Uzumaki jinchūriki by any means necessary. He planned to take her quietly, avoid detection, and cross the border before nightfall.”
A murmur of outrage rippled through the room.
Koharu pressed a hand to her chest. “So bold… entirely reckless…”
Danzo’s tone was flat, but his gaze gleamed. “Opportunistic, is what it was. They saw an unguarded weapon and sought to claim it for their own.”
Hiruzen’s eyes flicked toward him.
Weapon.
Danzo continued as if commenting on the weather. “This incident proves what I have long warned. The jinchūriki must be guarded, trained, and shaped properly. If she were under ANBU or ROOT supervision, this would not have happened.”
Shikaku’s head turned a fraction of an inch—almost nothing, but enough to show he was listening closely.
Danzo stepped forward. “Uzumaki Naruko should be removed from the general population immediately. Hidden and trained rigorously. She must be conditioned into a proper kunoichi. We certainly don’t need her influenced by civilians or others that cloud her purpose.”
Homura nodded along, palms folded tightly in his lap. “It may be necessary, Hiruzen.”
Koharu swallowed once. “If the other villages think she is easy to reach, they will keep trying.”
Shikaku’s hands curled behind his back.
Hiruzen lifted his pipe slowly, but didn’t smoke. His gaze softened with thought.
“ROOT is prepared to take her,” Danzo added. “Quietly and efficiently. For as long as needed.”
There it was.
Not fear for the child. Fear for the weapon they almost lost.
Hiruzen stared at the man he had once called comrade.
For a long moment, the office was silent except for the faint settling of ash in the pipe’s tray.
Then Hiruzen straightened.
The quiet, contemplative look vanished.
In its place was the steel of the Professor, the Third Hokage, the man who had half-raised generations of shinobi and buried too many children already.
“No,” he said.
Danzo’s eye sharpened. “Hiruzen-”
“You will not take her,” Hiruzen said, voice level but immovable. “Naruko is a child of this village, not a tool to be locked away underground.”
Koharu’s lips parted. “But-”
“This incident shows she needs guidance,” Hiruzen continued, “but not the sort you offer.”
He lifted his pipe again, tapping it once against the tray.
“I have a different proposal for how we can keep young Naruko safe.”
The room fell silent.
Shikaku’s eyes flicked toward him—curious, cautious, hopeful.
Danzo’s fingers tightened around his cane.
Hiruzen raised a hand to call for ANBU attention.
“Send Naruko and Shikamaru in.”
Naruko watched as legs swung back and forth, hanging from the tall bench she was sitting on. After what felt like forever, finally, the door opened and one of the masked shinobi called them inside.
A group of old people, none Naruko recognized, filed out of the office before she and Shikamaru were able to enter. Shikaku rested a steadying hand on her shoulder as she came to stand beside him.
Inside, the Hokage’s office smelled of ink, old wood, and pipe smoke. Jiji was stood behind his desk with his hands folded pleasantly behind his back. His face softened for a brief moment before concern settled there instead.
“Naruko. Shikamaru.” His voice gentled. “Come here.”
Naruko stepped forward, but slowly, like her feet weren’t entirely convinced. Shikamaru pushed himself off where he was leaning against his father’s side, blinking hard until his vision stopped swimming.
Hiruzen knelt—not a small thing for someone his age. His knees cracked quietly as he lowered himself.
“I’ve been told what happened.” He reached out, brushing a stray leaf from Naruko’s hair. “You handled yourselves well.”
Naruko’s eyes darted to the floorboards. Her shoulders hunched, and she twisted her fingers together until the knuckles turned white.
Shikamaru frowned at the movement and nudged her leg lightly with his foot, shooting her a look that said Don’t do that. She pretended she didn’t see it, but her hands stilled.
Hiruzen turned to Shikamaru. “Your quick thinking protected your classmate. That was no small feat.”
Shikamaru stared back with the flat expression of a boy determined not to be praised. “Still a drag,” he muttered, voice thick with fatigue.
The Hokage’s lip twitched like he was hiding a smile.
Then he straightened, the softness in his face giving way to something heavier as he looked at both children.
“There is danger in the fact that this occurred at all,” he said, turning back toward his desk. He picked up a folder—Naruko recognized the kanji of her name clipped at the top. His fingers rested on it for a moment, tapping once, twice, as if thinking through the next words carefully.
“When someone attempts to take a child from a village, we must understand why,” Hiruzen continued. “And we must take precautions to prevent it from happening again.”
Naruko’s breath caught. Her eyes flicked up to him, then away. Her shoulders tightened again, no doubt preparing for an admonishment of her actions.
Shikamaru noticed. He stood up straighter, blinking through the exhaustion.
Hiruzen closed the folder. “Naruko, you will be staying with the Nara clan for the time being.”
Naruko blinked at him, unsure she’d heard correctly. Her brows knotted in the middle, and she glanced at Shikamaru as if he might translate, but his eyes were equally wide.
“She’ll be… living with us?”
Naruko swallowed, listening intently for any displeasure in his tone.
Hiruzen continued, “The Nara are capable, experienced, and familiar with you. You’ll be safe with them, and you’ll learn things that will help protect you in the future. This arrangement could be beneficial to both of you. Just as steel sharpens steel, man sharpens man, and shinobi sharpens shinobi. I hope you use this opportunity to learn and grow from one another and develop into capable defenders of our village. ”
Naruko’s lips parted. She stared down at the floorboards again, but her shoulders loosened this time, just slightly.
Shikamaru watched her and, after a moment, nodded once. “It’s fine,” he said, voice softer. “Really.”
Naruko’s eyes glistened, but she blinked quickly, refusing to let anything fall.
Hiruzen noticed the motion. He didn’t comment on it. He simply laid a warm, weathered hand on her head and said, “You’re not in trouble, child. You were targeted. That is not your fault.”
Something trembled in Naruko’s chest, but she pressed her lips together and breathed through it. When she met the Hokage’s gaze again, her eyes were shining. “Next time, I’ll kick his ass! Believe it!”
“And you,” the Hokage added, turning toward Shikamaru, “should be proud of what you did.”
Shikamaru slumped deeper into the chair. “Yeah, yeah.”
But Naruko saw the way his fingers relaxed slightly on the armrest, and that small shift eased the tension in her shoulders for the first time since the forest.
The Hokage dismissed them a moment later with gentle instructions to rest and return the next morning for further questions. Shikaku thanked him with a small bow, adjusting his son’s weight as he lifted Shikamaru into his arms again.
Naruko followed quietly.
The air outside the office felt cooler than she expected, almost sharp against her cheeks. Afternoon sun slanted through the windows lining the hallway, stretching long, dappled shadows across the floor. She stepped into one and paused, staring at the faint tremble of her own hands.
Shikamaru noticed.
He didn’t say anything—he was still too pale, eyelids heavy with the bruised purple of chakra exhaustion—but he reached out from where he rested against his father’s shoulder and tugged once at the sleeve of her shirt.
Just a small tug. Barely anything at all.
Naruko’s breath hitched.
She reached up and looped her fingers around his for a brief second, squeezing as gently as she could before letting go. His mouth twitched like he meant to smirk but was too tired to follow through.
Shikaku caught the exchange out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t comment, only shifted his grip on Shikamaru and nodded toward the exit.
“Come along, Naruko.”
She trailed after him through the hallway, steps soft, mind still buzzing. The forest, the stranger, the shadow jutsu—everything seemed far away now, like a bad dream already losing shape.
But Shikamaru’s sleeve tug still lingered in her memory, steady and grounding.
Outside, the late-day breeze rustled the leaves along the path. A few deer stood near the edge of the trees, their dark eyes following the trio as if confirming Naruko was truly safe. One dipped its head before disappearing into the underbrush.
Naruko’s shoulders loosened another fraction.
She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or how long she was supposed to stay with the Nara clan. She didn’t know why someone would want to take her, or why Shikamaru had reacted the way he did, or why her heart still thudded too fast in her chest.
But as she walked beside Shikaku, watching the sway of Shikamaru’s ponytail as he slept, one simple thought rose quietly through all the confusion:
She wasn’t alone.
Not today. Maybe not even tomorrow.
And for Naruko, that was enough to make the world feel a little less frightening.