It was dead quiet outside, one could hear the humming sound penetrating the walls of the nightclub, where neon light shone – one would think they were high on drugs before even entering.

Normally, a person like him would be asleep.

But here he was - wide-awake, waiting.

Seamlessly, he checked again – the scope, the safety, the ammo … not a strand of hair out of place.

The man sitting at the roof opposite the nightclub stared at somewhere far away.

His slit like eyes shone, as he blinked, long eyelashes brushed his own face; his thin eyebrows furrowed themselves together, his lips downturned.

He was not such a big fan of waiting, too troublesome.

"Hey," he said, as if he was talking to the air.

"What?" In his ear, a voice hissed back. There was something raspy in her voice, he adjusted the device with his long sleek fingers.

"Hasn't it bothered you why your parents named you after a ball?" He said with an involuntary smirk on his face.

He pressed his hand onto his ear – a tiny piece of device dug itself in deeper.

His eyes thinned themselves into a line as he heard her sucking her teeth.

"Says someone whose name's literal translation is 'deer-ball'."

Reception was bad, but it was clear enough to hear her poisonous sarcasm dripping in her voice.

"It would be nice if you could stop these troublesome comebacks," he swore he could feel her tongue clicking through those earphones. "I mean, men don't really like it when women talk back so much, it's just annoying."

"One more word Nara, and I swear your mother won't be able to recognize you with all the holes I blow in your face."

And he knew she meant it.

He sighed and looked back into the scope. "Troublesome."

He muttered as his hand snaked its way up to the slightly curved trigger of his sniper rifle.

There he crouched, silent, blended in with the dark shadows formed by the bright light of the neon signs.

He waited.

And waited. It was a cool autumn night, the wind brushed past his dark self.

He stared as the middle aged man stumbled his way out of the nightclub, his steps wobbling, hands dangling over the two women dressed in low-cut, shining dresses; his almost bald head shining in the neon lights.

He tugged gently.

A hole appeared on his head, clean, circular, crimson liquid began to surge from the hole as he collapsed onto the ground.

The women's scream tore through the pitch-dark night.

He smiled as his finger left the trigger, gently and swiftly, he slid his way down to the shadows of the wall, his hands quickly dismembering the rifle into different metal parts, and shoved them into his backpack.

The next second, he slipped away and disappeared into the darkness.


He stood there, waiting for the train to enter the subway station.

His hair causally tied up in a ponytail, a pair of frameless glasses clung itself on his tall nose.

His eyes glanced around lazily, one of his hand casually clinging onto the straps of his backpack.

At that moment, he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Unknown number. Encrypted as always.

He fished it out and pressed on it, slowly maneuvering it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Great job." He smiled as he heard her voice. "Glad you came out in one piece."

"I always do," he yawned as the train arrived, sliding into the station like a giant silver snake. "Getting packed in a body bag is too troublesome."

"Hmph." He smiled as he heard her smirk through the phone, and stepped onto the train.

"So when do I get the money?" He asked, as he scanned the train. One good thing about the subway trains in Konoha was that they run for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

"As usual, transferred in installments." These little moments of mutual understanding always makes him sigh softly and ends with an understanding smile on his face.

"How would I know that you are not absconding with my money?" He sniggered.

"As if I would," he could hear her snigger as well, through the phone. "If I want to, I would just find someone else to kill your chauvinistic ass before I do that."

The train was empty, save for one guy who was sleeping his head off, his face pressed against the glass of the window.

"Heh, you won't." He sat down next to a glass pane, his backpack on his lap.

"And why wouldn't I do that, Nara?"

"Because you love me." He said matter-of-factly, shrugging as if she could see him through the phone.

"You don't even know what I look like." He could imagine a smile on her face.

"I could feel it through your voice – too confident for someone who is ugly, so you're probably not ugly." He chuckled. "I can do not-ugly."

"Yeah, fuck you too." She clicked her tongue again. "I will call you if another job pops up."

"Good night, Temari." He said softly.

"Hmph." Her voice disappeared, replaced by an annoying beep.


"You seem to enjoy talking to him quite a lot," her brother commented, as she stretched her back, grinning from the phone call.

The woman jerked her head around, with a smirk on her face. "At least he is fun to talk to, not some maniac toying around with dolls all day long."

"You know I do that for a living," he rolled his small eyes.

"No, Kankuro." She rolled her eyes in a likewise manner. "We break the law for a living, your artsy-fartsy work is just some side money."

"Whatever," he yawned. "I am going to bed, gotta go back to the studio early tomorrow."

"Good night, Kanki."

"Shut up." The annoyance in his voice put a wide grin on her face.

She stretched her long, well-toned arms into the air and sighed loudly.

She turned and looked at the clock – 03:30. It blinked at her like an evil eye in the dark.

Just at that moment, her phone vibrated on the table, buzzing rhythmically.

Unknown number - she arched an eyebrow and picked it up.

"Hello?" She asked cautiously.

"Just to tell you, I got home safely." That voice made her eyes thin like a line, she was almost squinting.

"How did you get my number?" Instantly alerted, she tracked her own phone on the computer, and made sure that the antivirus of her devices were working.

"Stop tracking or whatever you are doing," she swore the cockiness in his voice was overwhelming at the moment. "I decoded it during my train ride home."

"Yeah, yeah smart ass." She rolled her eyes, unaware that she was smiling.

"Anyway, I am going to bed." His lazy voice ended with a yawn. "Good night."

"Good night." Then she pressed on her phone with her thumb, a tiny smile on her beautiful face.


He walked along the shades of the tree, holding a book in his hand and brief case in another. Dressed in a leaf green shirt, complete with dark green tie and dark trousers, he walked into the lecture hall, which was actually a normal classroom.

The lecture room was filled with dozens of students, who stared at this man, walking to the lecturer's stand without another word.

"Welcome," he cleared his throat. Some students arched an eyebrow, not convinced that this young, lanky guy in front of them was their lecturer.

"I am your lecturer, Nara Shikamaru." He turned and wrote his name on the blackboard, on a piece of white chalk. "Introducting my academic history would be too troublesome – you can find it on my research profile on the faculty website."

The students looked at one another.

"Before Q and A, there is one thing I'd say to you: I won't ask you to do anything unreasonable, so just do your coursework and don't screw up in your exam, I won't flunk people just for the curve."

He then sat down in front of the teacher's desk, his legs resting onto the desk.

"Well, we are still in the course registration period, if you want to drop the class, go ahead." He yawned afterwards, putting his hand behind the back of his head. "Now, questions?"

The students stared at each other, some of them confused, some of them skeptical.

A guy put up his hand, and Shikamaru acknowledged him with a nod. "You over there in the blue shirt."

"Erm, Professor, how old are you?"

"One, I don't like the name professor, just call me Shikamaru." He arched an eyebrow. "Two, I am twenty two, going to be twenty three soon."

The students looked at him amazed, some shook their head in disbelief.

"I graduated at eighteen and completed my PhD in two years." He closed one of his eye and smirked at the students. "I just figured that teaching is one of the less troublesome jobs I can get, nice benefits too."

The students started to laugh, and another raised her hand.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, but I am not interested," he smirked, and the class fell into crazed laughter.

"What do you do apart from teaching?"

He arched an eyebrow, and smiled at the student who asked the question.

"I don't do much, it is just troublesome." Then he stood up, and patted the back of his head.

"Anyway, get your textbooks for the next lesson, we will start next week." Then he waved his hand and walked out of the lecture room.

The students stayed put, staring at one another, wondering how their first lesson ended in fifteen minutes, with the lecturer being five minutes late.

"Class dismissed," he stuck his head back in the door and announced exasperatedly. "What a drag."

He walked out hastily and turned into a dark corner, fishing his phone out of the pocket.

"Hello."

"Hey crybaby."

"Troublesome," a smile crept up to his face. "What's up?"

"New assignment," he could hear her smile even through the phone. "Go to the coffee shop next to your apartment tonight at six, I will meet you there."

"Really? Not dropping off this time?"
"Yes, don't get too excited." Her voice faded into an endless beep.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Looks like he has a date tonight.


Author's note:

Here is my new modern AU story! If you like Alcohol, Cigarettes and Paperwork, you will probably like this one too! (I hope haha)

Enjoy! Read and review :3

P.S. Don't faint over assassin-professor Shikamaru (too bad real-life professors don't look like him lol)

V.S.V xoxo