When exactly did I stop saying “What a drag”…?
Shikamaru considered the question as he looked up at the sky, where one thin cloud after another briskly sailed by, despite the wind not being especially strong. The hurried confusion above him was not so different from the twisting and turning in his own heart, and Shikamaru smiled wryly.
At any rate, he was busy.
More than two years had passed since the Fourth Great Ninja War, and the world was finally starting to settle down again. The Five Kage Alliance, born of the outbreak of war, remained intact, leading to a dramatically different world for shinobi. The original alliance had been established among the five hidden villages, but after the Great War, the smaller neighboring lands were quick to announce their intention to join the larger group. Shinobi from every part of the continent were now a part of the organization, which had slowly developed from a loose alliance into a more formal union. The work previously undertaken by individual villages before the launch of the Five Kage Alliance now came in batches to the union. Ninja representatives from every region in the union then discussed and assigned missions to the villages. Being able to ensure a steady flow of work corrected disparities among them, finally bringing an era of peace and stability to the world of the shinobi.
“Aah.” The sigh melted into the air. The stone beneath him was cold, meaning that his back was essentially frozen. If I don’t move, I’m gonna catch a cold or something, he thought, and yet he had a reason for not getting up.
Work was waiting.
An absolutely ridiculous amount of work. And he couldn’t figure out where to even start with it.
If he simply thought of this time as a brief break, he could keep lying here like this in the middle of the day. But once he got up, that dream would die. His brain would immediately shift into work mode. And once that happened, he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie down again. So he continued to lounge obstinately on the cold stone roof of the Hokage Residence. And as long as no one came around looking for him, he intended to stay like that.
Beyond the round roof, he could see the stony mountain, the faces of the generations of Hokage carved into it. In order from the right were the first Hokage, Hashirama, and his younger brother, Tobirama. They were followed by the third Hokage, Hiruzen, who died in Orochimaru’s operation to destroy Konoha, and Namikaze Minato, the “Yellow Flash.” The fifth Hokage, Tsunade, was one of the three legendary shinobi alongside Orochimaru and Jiraiya. These were the historical Hokage.
The face of the current Hokage was next to Tsunade’s. Sleepy eyes under wiry hair. The lower half of his symmetrical face with its sharp nose covered by a mask. The Hokage was the symbol of Konohagakure, someone every ninja in Konoha had to approve before ascension. The face in the mountain was meant to carve the Hokage’s face into memory, and yet the lower half of this man’s was hidden by a mask.
Hatake Kakashi, Hokage.
Every single soul in the shinobi world knew him as the master of the two heroes who brought about the end of the Fourth Great Ninja War. Shikamaru, however, had a much closer relationship with Kakashi and those two heroes, and he felt disconnected from all the fuss made over them. People told him they were heroes and legends and praised them to high heaven, but he definitely wouldn’t use words like that to describe any of them. Kakashi was a man who stepped up to the plate when he had to, but in everyday life he was a total waste of a grown-up with no interest in doing anything.
And the two so-called heroes were the same. One was a complete and total idiot. And the other was utterly pigheaded. There was no helping either of them, and yet they were called “living legends.” Shikamaru honestly did not understand this world.
“What am I even doing…” His thoughts naturally spilled out from his mouth.
Shikamaru was very much not the hero type. To start with, he had never wanted to be a hero. He wasn’t interested in polishing his ninjutsu and being one of those super industrious types, either. He also didn’t particularly want to study medical ninjutsu and become a rear-guard support specialist, and training in computation or rhetoric to become an official seemed like a giant yawn.
Just right at everything, that was Shikamaru’s dream. As a ninja of just the right rank, he would carry out just the right missions, marry just the right girl, and live with their just-right children. And then an old age that was just right… Somehow, each day would end without anything in particular happening. Was there anything happier than that? He didn’t think so.
On nice days, he could lie around like this and send his thoughts chasing after the flowing clouds as he stared up at the sky. On rainy days, he’d pour a drink for his shogi opponent. No one expecting anything from him, not the tiniest bit of pressure. Stress would never darken his heart. What a wonderful life that would be.
“Haaah…” The heavy, weighty sigh sounded as though it were seeping out from the depths of his stomach.
This thing reality was a truly formidable enemy.
Against a human enemy, Shikamaru would have a real chance of winning. Even a godlike enemy, as long as they had a physical form, would have to have a weak spot somewhere. In fact, his opponents in the last Great War had all had at least a bit of monster in them, but Shikamaru and his comrades had rallied their forces and defeated each and every one of them.
He could beat a real enemy.
But…
There was no way he could defeat an enemy with no physical form: i.e., reality. And whether he liked it or not, reality was callously carrying him off in a different direction.
Despite Shikamaru simply wanting a just-right life, he had somehow become an essential part of the Allied Shinobi. He worked to divide up the work requests brought in by the daimyo and citizens of each land into ranks A through D, and assigned those missions, taking into account the special characteristics of each village before determining which was best suited to the task. He discussed and negotiated any number of issues with the five great nations. He even played shogi with the aging Tsuchikage; he could manage any task. Some even said the Allied Shinobi worked because of Konohagakure’s Shikamaru.
The more he resisted, the more he tried not to stand out, the more disinterested he was in advancing through the ranks, the more he was pushed up by those around him.