"The fourth match is between Nara Shikamaru and Hoshigaki Kisa!"
"Next contestant, please co to the stage!"
The announcent echoed from the loudspeakers. In the preparation room, Nara Shikamaru slowly sat up from the couch. He blinked lazily, rubbed the back of his neck, stretched a little, glanced up at the ceiling, and then placed both hands behind his head. With a reluctant sigh, he began his slow walk down the passage to the arena.
Hoshigaki Kisa, Shikamaru's opponent, had already been waiting by the arena entrance even before the previous match—between Sasuke and Samui—had ended. He had been itching for his turn to fight.
Now, both contestants had made it to the field early.
Gekkō, acting as the proctor, tapped the microphone again with a hint of helplessness in his voice.
"Contestant Nara Shikamaru, please don't doze off. It's your turn to fight."
"Kindly co to the stage imdiately."
Right on cue, Shikamaru's laid-back figure erged from the corridor.
Shikamaru looked up at the stands.
Great… so many people watching. All eyes on for this fight?
What a drag. I just want to go ho and take a nap… Can I surrender right away, per tournant rules?
Then, his gaze shifted to the front-row seating reserved for family mbers.
Wait… why is Mom here?
Nara Yoshino was standing up, waving enthusiastically at her son.
Though the crowd was noisy, Shikamaru could clearly see the movents of her lips.
She was smiling gently—but there was sothing terrifying behind that smile.
"You know what I an."
"If you dare to surrender, you're dead when you get ho."
Shikamaru froze.
Ah. Crap.
His shoulders slumped as if the weight of fate itself had landed on them. With a sigh of resignation, he trudged toward Kisa and Gekkō Hayate.
Looking at Shikamaru's utterly lifeless expression, Hayate muted the mic and asked in a lowered voice, clearly concerned.
"Shikamaru, are you okay? If you're feeling unwell, you can forfeit."
Shikamaru gave a weak chuckle and waved dismissively, his face bleak as death.
"I'm fine. Proceed as planned."
"I just rembered sothing unpleasant."
Hayate scratched his head, still unsure if he understood—but decided to move on.
"Alright then."
He reactivated the mic and had both combatants form the standard fighting seal before stepping back.
Kisa eyed Shikamaru's expression and assud the kid was scared of him.
And understandably so. Over the years, his tall, shark-faced figure had frightened more than a few Genin into tears.
"Hey… don't be scared by my face. I swear I'm actually a nice guy."
Kisa tried smiling, but on his face it only looked more deranged—like a predatory grin gone mad.
Shikamaru gave a strained smile back.
"Thank you for the concern, Senior. I've heard of your na. I'm like this because of sothing my mother said."
"It's fine. Let's begin."
Kisa lowered his battle seal and took a few steps back.
This kid's really using his mom as an excuse to cover up his nerves, huh?
Well, if he's scared, maybe I should go easy on him. Help him get off the field without trauma.
Gekkō fired the signal gun.
"Bang!"
Shikamaru pressed his hands together, forming the familiar Nara clan hand sign. His tone was still lazy, but slightly louder now thanks to the chakra beginning to circulate.
"Shadow Imitation Technique."
His shadow extended forward like a sentient being, slithering out from beneath his feet into a long, thin line, racing toward Kisa.
Kisa's eyes narrowed.
So that's the Nara clan's famous shadow jutsu. Better not take him lightly.
As a seasoned shinobi, Kisa had studied the strengths of various Konoha clans—especially the Ino-Shika-Chō trio, the Inuzuka clan, and the Abura. He knew their unique styles well.
The shadow inched closer to his feet, and Kisa kept backing up slowly.
Then, the shadow line straightened suddenly, halting just inches away from him.
Kisa imdiately swung his massive blade, Sahada, dragging it into the ground and carving a deep trench.
"Hmph. Looks like your range is around fifty ters."
Shikamaru clicked his tongue, withdrawing the shadow.
"Thought so. I was hoping to wrap this up fast."
He plopped down cross-legged, hands forming a circle on his knees, his fingers touching at the tips. Then, he did nothing.
Kisa stared at him in confusion.
Is he… thinking? Strategizing?
Back in the day, I'd have just blasted him with Water Style: Water Shark Bomb and walked off.
But this was Konoha—and it wouldn't hurt to earn so favor with Nara Shikaku, the Jonin Commander. After following Uchiha Hikaru's lead for so long, Kisa had learned the political ropes well enough.
Sotis, diplomacy was more dangerous than any jutsu.
So, Kisa just stood there, pretending to be tense, playing along as if this was so fierce ntal battle.
Minutes passed. One minute. Two.
The crowd began to grumble.
"What the hell?! Is this a joke?"
"I paid good money to co to Konoha! Is this kid seriously napping on the battlefield?"
"Is he even awake?"
Boos started echoing throughout the arena.
But in the front row, Nara Yoshino had already anticipated this. She pulled out a gaphone from her cloak, shocking even her husband Shikaku.
"SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"
"That's my son out there! You got a problem with that?! You can leave!"
"Nobody forced you to co watch!"
Even through the noise, Shikamaru clearly heard his mother's voice from across the arena.
Still yelling like that even now, huh… Mom never changes.
He cracked a grin mid-thought.
After that thunderous maternal outburst, most of the audience fell silent—so out of guilt, others out of sheer respect for that kind of fierce parental love.
And more than a few people found themselves… a little envious.
Shikamaru, still sitting calmly on the field, took a deep breath.
Now that he had the crowd off his back and Kisa off guard, his real strategy could begin.
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