Desolation of the Caged Bird Chapter 34 - Goddess of the Moon

“This is an inappropriate hour to visit, Mito-san.”

Namikaze Mito, formerly Uzumaki Mito, had never felt such a potent, indescribable cold before. The cold shuddered her to her bones and brought an icy sharpness into her veins and blood. The cold bypassed her clothes and robes and almost sought to freeze her solid where she stood.

She tried to speak, tried to open her mouth, but the sharpness of the gaze, of those clear eyes piercing her from above, almost faltered her. The concept was ludicrous, foolish, even that a woman vastly younger than her combined lives could hold such a presence and instill such a chill that silenced her with a single look. Yet, here and now, there was no denying it. She found it hard to look properly into those eyes, not only because of the biting cold that gnawed at her, ate at her, chewed at her, but because to do so would instill a bitter, cruel comparison the likes of which few could withstand.

Still, she forced her gaze upwards, forced herself to gaze upon the raven-haired Hyūga. There could only be one sentiment, one term used to describe her:

Peerless Beauty.

She was sunsets and flowers, she was spring and autumn, she was butterflies, and daffodils, dancing and swaying in the breeze. Mito couldn't help but stare in transfixed silence. With long, raven hair that flowed to her back, clear, jade-like skin, lavender eyes that reflected the beauty of the moon, she was garbed in a pristine, flawless white gown. It was an ethereal, otherworldly, transcendent beauty that bypassed such trifles as gender and sexuality and orientation, and had one unable to retort, unable to gather their wits, and unable to so much as squeak out a word or complaint.

Her heart was stirred, and her cheeks filled with warmth. Before today, she had never once considered the possibility of interest in the same gender. The thought of it had never occurred to her as a possibility, but the beauty and grace before her was enough for the fleeting thought, the fleeting desire, the fleeting whim and wish to see herself entangled in the succulent flesh of another woman—

Dangerous.

Quickly, she stepped back, her heart racing. There was no genjutsu utilized on her; even so, there was a dizzying fragrance that held the scent of fresh rain and winter that had almost emboldened her to step forward and claim the woman’s lips, a yearning temptation that incited her very being to be roused into inappropriate action.

What sort of vile… bewitching method…?

There was no technique used, no trickery used; it was merely her presence, her allure, that befuddled the senses and beguiled the soul. If she was stirred this much, she could not imagine how much more those who were normally predisposed towards the attraction of the female form would be stirred. She could not imagine what they would do, what they wouldn’t do, just for an iota of attention and a glimpse of favor. 

Bathed in moonlight, Hyūga Hinata bore a form of wretched beauty that reminded her of the words Master Wuji had spoken once. Beauty that would incite wars and lead to the extermination of bloodlines, beauty that men, and indeed, even women, would set the world ablaze for.

It was both ironic and fitting, then, that the epithet bestowed upon her by Konohagakure was ‘Ice Goddess.’

Hyūga Hinata stood before the entrance of a hidden cave, within a hidden forest, and Uzumaki Mito pressed her lips together and managed to force out a set of words.

“I— I wish to speak with your—”

“Neji-ni-sama is not accepting visitors at this time, nor at this place.”

This place in particular was a Hidden Cave known only to certain individuals of the Hyūga Clan, and to her. She was the one, after all, who had put the seals in place there, who had ensured it could and would remain hidden from sight, from any and all who did not share the same direct connected bloodline. She was aware of its existence and suspected Hyūga Neji was as well, and decided that meeting Hyūga Neji here would be better than going in person to knock on the gates of his clan.

Clearly, Hyūga Hinata disagreed.

Her biting gaze felt as though it saw through her in a way that made Mito shudder. The word was that the girl had received special training from Hyūga Neji himself, and her beauty, her transformation, her lethality, was second to none. Having made Genin at seven, Chūnin at nine, and Special Jōnin at eleven, in the years since then, she displayed neither any interest in promotion nor in furthering her career as a kunoichi, staying only at the side of Hyūga Neji, as if she were a Shrine Priestess, a Miko, bound in eternal service, to her Kami.

“Please state your business and depart immediately,” Hinata said politely. “If you do not do so, I will be forced to attack you, Mito-san.”

You jest, she wanted to say. Yet, the words couldn’t emerge. Instead, the girl’s threat helped shake her out of the trancelike state she had entered. There was no doubt in her mind that Hyūga Hinata would do exactly as she said. Was it a mistake to have come here in the dead of night? Perhaps. However, the conversation she wished to have was one that bordered on treason if exposed, because it meant bypassing the authority of her father, Namikaze Minato.

It’s for his sake as well.

Mito could not deny she had grown fond of the man she called her father. They had a sense of rapport and understanding, and he was one of the few individuals who did not treat her as though she were a silly little girl with silly ideas, but often took heed to her words and counsel, especially in matters regarding fūinjutsu and advice in politics. It was how she understood why that foolish little successor of hers had been so smitten for the goodness in the man, because indeed, in his heart of hearts and soul of souls, Namikaze Minato was a good man.

Yet, therein lay the problem. He was too good for his own sake. He was a man who did not understand that the world was not as good, and people were not as good as he believed and hoped. He was the kind of man who would sacrifice everything for the sake of others, his life, his family, perhaps even his children if needed, and believed in the Will of Fire and sought peace and coexistence. 

She had confirmed, indirectly, that the man had been prepared if something went wrong during her successor’s first pregnancy, to sacrifice his life and seal the Nine Tails into himself and even into her brother, his son. Such a noble sacrifice would have been made without a second thought, and perhaps there was a part of him that believed Konoha would come to respect it, but Mito could not say she shared the same optimism.

The esteem and position she received as the Fourth Hokage’s Daughter did not and could not surpass the same esteem and acclaim she received as the First Hokage’s Wife. In so doing, she was exposed to parts of Konoha she had never believed could exist. Mito had encountered multiple unexpected setbacks, even after displaying her genius, and found others not only doubting her intelligence, her abilities, but also calling into question her judgment, her ideas, her suggestions, and propositions.

She had prepared herself for a difference in treatment given a difference in identities, but the differences had grown so vast she herself could not believe them. It was so vast, she felt as though her entire life, living as Uzumaki Mito, had been a life surrounded by nothing but sycophants and people pleasers.

She came to learn that even her successor did not receive the same level of esteem she had, because being the Fourth Hokage’s Wife could never compare to being the wife of the Village Founder.

“The matter I need to discuss is highly confidential. It is for that reason an added layer of security is required.”

The walls have ears, went unsaid.

“In addition, it is a highly private matter.”

“I handle all of Neji-ni-sama’s confidential matters. Private and public.”

Hyūga Hinata did not budge. Did she truly not wish for them to meet? Mito found herself getting slowly irritated. Did she truly have to communicate this over a proxy? Yet, glancing at the young woman’s face, her irritation melted away. It was impossible to get angry at someone so beautiful.

What treacherous thoughts are these…?

Mito decided it would be best not to look directly at Hyūga Hinata, for the sake of her sanity. She averted her gaze and spoke softly, “Tell him I wish to meet to discuss the possibility of an alliance. I have a mission request. I require his aid as a mission leader.”

She shot a glance towards the girl, and found her expression was as though it were a lake, calm, undisturbed, unmovable by external news or information. There was a tranquility that Mito had only seen in corpses and a serenity she had only seen in sages.

Warmth flushed her cheeks, her nipples stiffened, and instantly terror and dread swelled from the pit of her stomach. She forcefully averted her gaze again.

M-monstrous… 

“Neji-ni-sama says he’s not interested.”

Mito lifted a brow. “He’s not here. How can—”

It took her a moment to notice the light bulging around the girl’s eyes. The Byakugan. She had not paid attention to it, or rather, her beauty had distracted her from seeing it. She can communicate with him… through vast distances with the Byakugan… how? By reading lips? Or… does he write on paper and she sees it…?

It meant, wherever Hyūga Neji could see with his Byakugan—

Does that mean he can see me right now? 

“I wish to capture the Takigakure no Sato’s Jinchūriki, the vessel of the Seven Tails, and Kumogakure no Sato’s Jinchūriki, the vessel of the Eight Tails. I need your assistance in the matter.”

Silence spread through the darkness and through the moonlit night. Not even crickets made a sound here. Her plan, the Grand Fūinjutsu Formation, could in theory only work with the copious power of a Jinchūriki. The chakra of the Nine Tails was double that of the Eight Tails, and it was her first idea. If she were still the Jinchūriki, it was a sacrifice she would have made in a heartbeat. Her life for that of her village and people? It was not as if she didn’t already give away her body in an arranged marriage for her clan, so what more was this?

Of course, her Father would never allow it, and suggesting it alone had no doubt soured his opinion of her. The first time she hinted at the plan, the man had looked at her for a long time in silence, as if contemplating every action he had ever done in his life, every means he had ever gone wrong, to arrive at a day where his daughter would suggest sacrificing his wife to save them from destruction.

Mito was not heartless. She cared for Kushina. She cherished her like a granddaughter. However, she was a realist, and her father’s overprotective nature of Kushina was already too much. While other Jinchūriki ravaged the battlefield, her father explicitly prevented Kushina from ever setting foot outside of Konoha. The existence of Jinchūriki was made more common knowledge by the war, as was the fact that Konoha possessed the strongest one, yet, bafflingly, refused to use her.

There were already one or two voices of dissent and discontent, and something had to give, sooner or later. Her plan was suggested as a solution so her successor could not only be useful, but she could save them all in one swoop and put an end to those dissenting voices.

Many had said, mumbled, or griped, My wife/husband died on the battlefield, yet the Hokage won’t risk his own?

However, that plan had been shot down, and Mito had no other choice but to rely on the alternatives. Seeking and capturing other Jinchūriki.

“Hyūga-san is the only one in Konoha recorded to have faced off against not one, not two, but four different Jinchūriki and lived to tell the tale,” Mito continued. “It is why I seek his aid.”

Facing off the One-Tailed Jinchūriki on the Western Front during the Konoha-Suna offensive, Hyūga Neji was the only one who could block the Jinchūriki’s attack. He earned the title of ‘Divine Firmament’ for doing so. Elsewhere, he survived an ambush of three different Jinchūriki, an ambush where he was the sole survivor, and returned to deliver critical intel about the Fire Extinguishing Alliance.

Mito was well aware of the capabilities of Jinchūriki and the devastating power of a Tailed Beast Bomb. Only the Hyūga’s signature technique, which relied on the same rotationary force, would be able to deflect and withstand such an attack, which meant that Hyūga Neji was indispensable and invaluable if her goal was to capture a Jinchūriki.

Mito was certain her Adamantine Chakra Chains, which were suitable enough to hold down the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, would equally be capable of subduing other Jinchūriki. Her combat skills were not the best, but as she was a Fūinjutsu Master first and foremost, they did not need to be. Fūinjutsu could close that gap.

She was certain she could subdue a Jinchūriki single-handedly, but that was only after they had transformed fully. Considering the goal was to capture a person, it meant having to hold back against a foe who had no such qualms or hesitations.

“Neji-ni-sama asks why you need the Jinchūriki.”

She remembered that Hyūga Neji was said to also be adept in Fūinjutsu. “I wish to power a Grand Fūinjutsu Formation that can teleport the entire village to safety.”

Again, silence stretched.

“Have you considered utilizing other methods?”

“Other methods?”

“To power the Grand Fūinjutsu Formation.”

Mito slowly questioned, “Is this Hyūga Neji asking, or is it you?”

“Neji-ni-sama taught me fūinjutsu and has allowed my curiosity.”

She wanted to laugh. Did he? Yet that dismissive air vanished as she shot a gaze towards Hyūga Hinata again, and had to avoid her gaze again. 

“And what methods would you suggest?”

Hyūga Hinata provided, “Accumulating the collective chakra of others.”

“The amount required would take at least thirty years to accrue.”

“Utilizing Senjutsu Chakra?”

Mito paused. Her estimation of the girl went up again. “At least fifteen years to accrue.”

“Slowly draining and storing the chakra of one specific individual with a large volume?”

Mito’s gaze went sharp. Asking me to use my successor…

“Doing so would take, at a best estimate, ten years, and would be a significant drain on that individual, which would require them doing nothing but siphoning their chakra twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”

Hyūga Hinata crossed her arms. “Have you considered the Impure World Reincarnation?”

The air went silent.

“You jest.”

“With enough individuals, you would have infinite chakra.”

“You want me to raise an army of the dead to use them to solve matters of the living?” Mito bit her lip. “It is abhorrent.”

Her hatred of that technique knew no limits. Her loathing for that method, that accursed means, was greater than anything anyone could fathom.

“That technique requires living sacrifices, and even if we have enough prisoners to spare to use,” Mito continued, “Not even a thousand shinobi combined possesses the chakra of the Seven Tails, let alone the Eight Tails, let alone both. It would take decades to gradually accrue the chakra required, even if it is theoretically ‘infinite.’” 

The notion was absurd. Relying on the dead, the departed, as… batteries to fuel a technique was something that went beyond any common sense of this world. To have even thought of such a method made Mito unconsciously shiver as she looked at the beautiful girl in front of her.

Does pure ice flow in her veins?

Her title was well-deserved. 

But such coldness was forgivable, because she was beautiful.

“We do not have time on our side,” Mito said, at last. “The fastest method requires the consumption of the chakra of a Tailed Beast. The Tailed Beasts are immortal; they always reform. The Jinchūriki are the only ones at risk, but if they are our enemies all the same, I see no reason why their lives cannot be used to better ours.”

She had thought through varying methods and means, none quite so disturbing as what the girl suggested, but in the end, it always came back down to relying on Jinchūriki. Nothing else possessed as much chakra. Many people vastly, greatly, tremendously underestimated the sheer amount of chakra the Tailed Beasts possessed.

“Neji-ni-sama asks what he gains in exchange for aiding you on this task.”

“Is the avoidance of the destruction of Konoha not reward enough?”

“No.”

“No?”

Hinata repeated, “No.”

Mito was surprised. “They said he was a patriot."

“Neji-ni-sama says being patriotic does not mean being foolish,” Hinata said sharply. “The Jinchūriki are not only very powerful, but also well-protected and guarded. The task of hunting the greatest weapons of enemy nations isn’t something you accept out of pure patriotism. Once it is realized that one is captured, the others will be more alert, more guarded, and more prepared. The mission has a high risk of failure and death. Whereas even in the advent of Konoha’s destruction, there is a sliver of chance of survival.”

Mito was aware of the level of protection given to other Jinchūriki, due to having once been a Jinchūriki herself, and due to being the daughter of one currently. None of them would be alone; many of them would be heavily guarded and monitored, and were likely to be related to core individuals in the village’s administration to ensure loyalty and prevent desertion. This meant that capturing such individuals was tantamount to someone attempting to capture the Hokage’s daughter or son or wife, which was, in and of itself, an incredibly difficult task.

In many ways, her father was not wrong to call it a Fool’s Errand.

What else would you have me do?

When Uzushiogakure had been destroyed, she had been powerless to make a difference. She had been unable to do anything, stop anything, make any changes, and had simply witnessed from the sidelines. She could read the writing on the wall. Destruction was coming, one way or the other, and this time she refused to sit back and do nothing.

She absolutely would not sit back and watch her home burn to the ground a second time.

“What does he require from me?”

There were few things she did not have the power to give, as the Fourth Hokage’s prodigious daughter, and the ‘Fūinjutsu Goddess’ of Konoha. However, Hyūga Neji was in a rare position of being the Heir of the most powerful clan in Konohagkure no Sato, a legendary genius and a war hero who valiantly earned a battlefield promotion to Jōnin for saving hundreds of lives. He possessed equal, if not superior political power and influence within Konohagakure no Sato’s walls. There was nothing she could fathom to offer him that he could not attain by himself.

“Neji-ni-sama wishes for there to be deeper ties between the Hyūga and Uzumaki Clans.”

“I will announce our betrothal first thing in the morning,” she said. “Is that all?”

An arranged marriage for the good of her people was just another day to Mito. If Konoha were destroyed, or if the mission ended in failure, she would be dead, which meant that fretting or disliking an arranged spouse would be meaningless. If anything, she was more assured now that Hyūga Neji would see this through due to this added incentive.

“And—”

Hinata continued.

“It must be all eight.”

“What?”

“He says if he is to accompany you to capture Jinchūriki… It must be all Eight Jinchūriki.”

Mito’s head snapped upwards.

“You jest.”

“He does not.”

She only managed a fleeting glance before she averted her gaze again.

“I do not need all eight, and capturing just one or two is already a difficult task. How does he expect us to capture all of them by ourselves?”

“Neji-ni-sama says it won’t be you two alone. His teammates and I will join you.”

Teammates? It took her a moment to recall them. Uchiha Itachi, another prodigy whose war achievements were incredible, and Mitarashi Anko, the ‘Death Goddess.’

It would be the ‘Fūinjutsu Goddess’, ‘Death Goddess’, the ‘Ice Goddess’, the ‘Divine Firmament’, and the ‘Prince of Crows.’ 

Six of Konoha’s best versus eight Jinchūriki.

The plan was actually starting to sound feasible.  

“My father will never sign off on it if there are that many people involved. The losses we would suffer if we fail—”

“There is no need for the pretense.”

Hyūga Hinata cut her off.

“You were not planning on informing Hokage-sama about this matter to begin with.”

Mito pressed her lips tightly.

“Will there be anything else, Mito-san?”

“...Is it a technique?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Is it a technique?” she repeated, forcing herself to meet her gaze. “I cannot sense any disruptions in my chakra nor any use of ninjutsu or genjutsu, but such beauty… mere beauty alone possessing such effects on a person… it should be impossible.”

Hyūga Hinata smiled.

Butterflies danced in Mito’s stomach in a way that had made no sense, and her face turned the same shade of her hair. It was with that smile that Mito understood those words she had heard years ago.

The light of a firefly daring to compare itself to the brilliance of the moon.

“Good night, Mito-san. Please take care on your way home.”

Mito departed, not saying a word. It was demeaning of her to ask, perhaps, embarrassing to care for such appearances, but given the extraordinary nature of such a thing, given that the title of Most Beautiful Woman in the World was already won by Hyūga Hinata and all else could only fight for second place… 

Hyūga Neji… could you possibly be connected to… him?

If he were…

Then, on their long expedition to capture the Jinchūriki, Mito would find out.

XXXXX - Desolation of the Caged Bird - XXXXX

“Troublesome…”

“Indeed.”

Nara Shikamaru rubbed his forehead slowly, doing what he could to stop the pounding, throbbing headache. They all were underneath a full moon in Training Ground 10, and to his sides, his teammates, Chōji and Biwako, were flat on the ground, blacked out. Their sensei stood in front of them, in the form of a giant crow. Well, at least he was certain it was their sensei, given the Sharingan in both of the crow’s eyes, but he couldn’t tell exactly. He was told about his new sensei by his father, and he was aware of the man’s reported, purported genius, but no one had mentioned that Uchiha Itachi was an incredibly insane individual.

“Are you sure this isn’t going to give us permanent brain damage?”

“Yes.”

It should have. Compressing seventy-two hours' worth of information into his brain in the span of a single second was beyond troublesome. What was even crazier was that his sensei said he could compress more than seventy-two hours at a go, but that for the sake of their minds, he only used it in seventy-two-hour intervals.

The fact that his teammates were both still unconscious was all the more reason Shikamaru understood just how utterly broken his sensei’s genjutsu was. All it took was a glance, making eye contact with his sensei, and he was thrust into that inverted world with a red moon hanging overhead. From there, his sensei brought him up to speed on the current war effort, compressing ten years' worth of battlefield information, details, knowledge, and events into easily digestible pieces of information.

After that, they realized they still had enough time left over, so they played over a thousand or so games of Shōgi and Go, during which they discussed tactics and his training plans for his teammates.

There was still some time left over, somehow, so he began practicing his family technique within the inverted world, manipulating shadows under his sensei’s guidance. As luck would have it, his sensei’s former teammate was Mitarashi Anko, so he knew a lot about using darkness to his advantage, and his sensei also knew her methods, which meant he came up with methods and novel ideas that Shikamaru understood were perfect applications.

Once he was done, his sensei told him to mentally prepare himself. The technique ended, and they returned to the real world, where the information bombarded his mind all at once. There was a splitting, unfathomable headache Shikamaru felt that could not be explained with words. Despite fully being ready for the technique, anticipating the technique, and being told about the technique, his mind still struggled to fully accept it.

He could not imagine how devastating it would be if he were caught unprepared, and, if instead of using the technique for teaching, reading, and training, he were put under strenuous torture instead. The level of damage it would cause to his mind was something he doubted even Ino’s father could fix.

“I’ve guessed there’s a reason you don’t use this method to train everyone in Konoha.”

The giant crow stared blankly and then turned to glance at his teammates, who were still lying flat and unconscious on the ground. Chōji in particular was snoring and mumbling something about roast pork, whilst Biwako was mumbling about her “Otou-san” and “Ka-san.”

Shikamaru translated: Not everyone has the mental fortitude required to handle this technique.

“Troublesome…” Shikamaru sighed. “So you’ll only be using this on me.”

The giant crow shook its head. “It hurts my eyes.”

Shikamaru translated: It consumes too much chakra, and repeated use may potentially make me blind.

That part did confuse him. 

“If the risks are high, why use it at all?”

“You’re my students.”

Shikamaru did not have a translation for that.

“A bond between a master and a student is a bond you never take lightly,” the crow said. “My friend told me so.”

Shikamaru stared flatly.

“Troublesome.”

The crow nodded.

“Indeed.”

Shikamaru landed flat on the grass and sighed, staring up at the sky. When he was younger, he dreamt of living a simple life, as a simple shinobi, marrying an average, quiet wife, having one child, and retiring in peace and comfort to gaze at the clouds. He disliked high effort and disliked high stress. It was why he and his childhood friend Ino eventually had a falling out, as something had changed in her, which motivated her to always try to push him to work harder, train more, struggle harder, and strive for greatness.

At first, it was good-natured. Eventually, it became mean-spirited. Gradually, it was hard for her to hide how much she couldn't stomach him. She attacked him. Not in a ‘play fight’ or ‘we’re just messing around’ manner, but a serious fight. After he and Chōji restrained her, she broke down in tears.

“You could be so much better if you just pushed yourself! If you apply yourself! You’re already smart, but you're lazy! You think I don’t want to be lazy too?! You think I don’t wish I couldn’t be like you, gazing at clouds all day without a care in the world?!”

He didn’t blame her. Her clan elders were the ones at fault. She also just wanted to live a simple, easy-going life, and he was certain if it weren’t for those old men and women making old men and women decisions, Ino wouldn’t have changed so much. No, if it weren’t for the war, Ino probably wouldn’t have changed so much.

The Ino-Shika-Cho trio team could never work with the changed Ino. Shikamaru wasn’t the kind of person to change his ways just because a girl wept. He cared for Ino, but their relationship was too platonic for her tears to have that kind of motivating effect on him. Chōji did try to change a bit, but motivation and consistency had never been Chōji’s forte.

“Thoughts?”

Shikamaru closed his eyes. He recalled the information he had just been force-fed via time-perception-altering genjutsu. 

“You’ve already guessed it's an outsider.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve connected them to the vendetta against the Uchiha Clan.”

“Yes.”

“Have you connected them to being the culprit of the attempted kidnapping of the Hyūga Heiress prior to the war?”

His sensei went silent.

“It’s the same player,” Shikamaru mumbled, yawning. “Or two at best, but if they are two, those two players are cooperating.”

“Which boards?”

“All of them.”

Again, his sensei went silent. Shikamaru probably would never have noticed the connection if it weren't for the concluding effects of his sensei’s Genjutsu causing the memories, and thus, information, to hit his brain with the force of the Hokage Mountain dropping on his skull. When the information came like that, and he tried to make sense of it all, organize it all, connections were made and dismissed at rapid speeds, and the more connections he made, the more similarities he found.

“One or two players.”

Shikamaru nodded. “Yes.”

“Nations?”

“Pawns.”

“Kage?”

“Silver generals.”

“Jinchūriki?”

“Gold generals.”

A gentle night breeze blew, and Shikamaru’s thoughts went elsewhere, towards the many, many games they’d played in his sensei’s genjutsu. 

“Sensei, are you dying?”

“Was.”

“An illness?”

“Yes.”

“Incurable?”

“Was.”

“Tsunade?”

“Yes.”

Shikamaru nodded. It was good his sensei wouldn't die. Honestly, he actually was getting fond of him. The man wasn’t talkative; he was curt, smart, and there was very little need for lengthy sentences between them when simple words sufficed to transmit the information. Chōji was one of the few people Shikamaru also liked in that regard, as the boy could understand what he meant with the most minimal of effort.

It was surprisingly refreshing, having someone he could talk to like this.

“Sensei, your teammate was he…?”

“Yes.”

It made sense. His sensei had picked this up from somewhere.

“Sensei, another game?”

“Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

“Troublesome.”

“Indeed.”

For the first time, Nara Shikamaru found himself looking forward to something troublesome.