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Nara Shikamaru is renowned as a natural-born genius among his peers. His teachers often praised him for his superior tactical skills and above-average intelligence. (It was always a cleverly disguised insult, though.) He was average in personality, not particularly interesting or exciting, always just there. People often glanced over him. It was okay. He didn't mind.
(He was just used to it.)
In his dreams, though, the line between past, present, and future blurred. He saw things that happened, things that were happening, and some strange foggy view of the future.
As he gets older, the fog thins and he starts to see the future through a slightly dusty screen. Flashes of a vast and neverending story that made sense separately, but never together. He was missing something.
(Or, perhaps, someone.)
During his second year at the academy, he had a dream. It started the same as any other supposedly prophetic dream but was slightly... red in the strangest sense. It made him uneasy, the strange red pulling at his mind to no, no, no, run, runrunrunrun -
He ignores it.
(He learns later that he shouldn't have.)
He wakes the next morning with the knowledge of a massacre that may or may not happen. The image of a lonely doll ripped at the seams and scuffed with dirt, lying forgotten in the dirt.
(There was blood on his hands.)
He leaves that morning for school with a hollow gaze that makes his stomach churn, and posture to refined for an academy student.
(He knows.)
His day ends.
(There is still blood on his hands.)
He wakes during the night and knows what he has to do. His parents won't know he's gone till morning.
(There are shadows in his mind and on his tongue.)
He walks calmly to the Uchiha Compound, his mind unnervingly calm. He stops at the gate and sits down. He can wait.
(He will wait.)
Like clockwork, Itachi comes. There is surprise in his solemn gaze but drowned by despair that Shikamaru almost doesn't catch it.
Shikamaru smiles and says, "Come sit, we have much to talk about." Itachi crumbles.
(The shadows croon.)
Ten Uchiha are arrested and charged. Danzou Shimura is executed for treason and bloodline theft. Shikamaru has nothing to do with it because he is an academy student.
(His hands are clean.)
The night before he graduates he has another dream. Mizuki is a traitor. And Naruto is alone. He knows what he has to do. His parents won't know he's gone till morning.
(His shadows coil.)
Breaking in was relatively easy, considering Naruto lives in a brothel. Naruto is awake when he slips through the window, surprised by the late-night visitor. "Hello, Naruto," he says, "We have much to talk about." Naruto listens.
(There is sea salt in his blood. Someone has blessed him.)
Naruto sleeps with him that night. And he wakes in the morning knowing his heritage and a little more. There’s sea salt and rushing whirlpools in his blood. His soul sings.
(Shikamaru is a bastard of the sea and the shadows.)
Naruto is amazingly breathtaking in the most human way. His soul shines golden and pure, even through the tainted glares of the ignorant and grieving. He was raised in a brothel and taught how to be a whore. "The first shinobi were whores," Naruto tells him, "They figured getting paid to fuck and kill was better."
Naruto has impeccable balance, able to balance on a single finger without chakra. He knows stealth and silence like a glove. He picks up Shadow Clones in under an hour.
(He doesn't know how to read.)
They both pass, if only just barely, and spend the rest of their afternoon basking in the sun and watching clouds. Shikamaru feels like he has known Naruto his whole life and a little more. They click together like puzzle pieces, two individual pieces of equal beauty, but better put together. Shikamaru refuses to let him go.
(So he doesn't.)
Naruto makes friends with his Bijuu and Shikamaru is not surprised. Kurama is a wellspring of information. He tells them of red beaches and colourful coral reefs. A wind that seems to caress your very being, springs that heal beyond just your body, and fruit so sweet you choke on it. He tells them of home.
(They are bastards of the sun and moon.)
It's just after the second stage of the Chuunin Exams when Kurama gets sick. That night, he dreams of red sand and rushing whirlpools. He knows where they have to go.
(Towards the east does the echo sound,
make haste or your partner will drown.)
They make it in two days. A week and a half journey stuffed into two days at a punishing pace and no rest. Naruto and Kurama are getting sicker.
(Bury your dead in plumes of fire,
the hour is getting direr and direr.)
They travel through the wreckage picking up bones and trinkets for the pyre. The spirits of the island watch and wait, sometimes springing out from the forest and beckon them to follow.
(They receive the knowledge of Gods.)
They burn the mass pyre and mourn their people. The spirits mourn with them. One, in particular, a wolf as big as a cart, leads them to a sealed sanctuary and forces them through. It's the sum of knowledge of every clan on Uzushio. There is work to be done.
(Push and pull, the tide moves,
what would you give to stop the moon?)
They're back at the end of the second week, just as he said they'd be. Nobody even noticed they were gone. Not even his parents, who were supposed to know he was gone by morning.
(Would you give your first babe?
Would you fight to the last blade?)
The third stage is troublesome. He forfeits, even if he could have won, just so he doesn't have to fight Naruto. When Naruto's match is next Shikamaru tells him to not hold back.
(Naruto does not.)
The Invasion ends before it even begins. Suna rages against Oto at the death of their Kazekage. Shikamaru meets Gaara. "Come sit, Gaara, we have much to talk about." Gaara hurts.
(The roots of an unbreakable tree grow like fungus,
It is killing by the hundreds.)
Promotions come and go. The tides push and pull. The future is always changing. The Rabbit Goddess stands alone in her head and rages. He knew what they had to do.
(Coil and croon.)