A/N: This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while now. A murder mystery being solved by Naruto and Shikamaru. Plots our bound to twist and truths will undoubtedly be found. So let's check it out! let me know what you think in the reviews.

PS: I may be doing some light editing.

-Sober T

xXx

Warm Chocolate and Murder

I wish I could say this winter was the coldest. Or dark and dreary, storms of snow bellowing over us in ominous clouds. Or that the temperature bit at your throats when we dared stepped outside, a warning to stay in this winter. I wish maybe that it was the worst winter ever, to better fit its outcome.

But this winter was anything but.

The cool winter air was inviting, with a lazy white daze covering the sky, a slight shine to accompany the freshly fallen snow covering the grounds of Kohnoa. For the most part untouched in their early morning sheen. Hell, there was even a cup of hot cocoa in my hands. And the best part? The peace that seemed to come with the delicate sound of fluffy snow falling in thick layers on the ground. Or maybe it wasn't peace, but deafening silence that fell with the snow. I don't think I've seen so much tranquility, the entire situation itself made me completely uneasy.

My name is Naruto Uzamaki, 23 years old just last month. I've been a detective for the Kohnoa police department for a few years now, dealing with several counts of the unimaginable. Theft, hate crimes, rape ...But nothing ever seemed to captivate a scene like murder. Nothing ever seemed to demand so much attention from such a small area. And this scene was no different. Having the nerve to dress itself up as a play worth seeing.

A large group of civilians were gathering around the tragic stage. Our leading actor anchoring a four-inch blade in his rib cage. Clutching tight to his chest were the final blow had been laid. The victim had crashed into the window of a local deli some time ago and crawled his way out into the middle of the street. Finally giving up and joining the silent scenery. Laying on his back, cloudy eyes to the sky as the snow made a final bed for him. The pain that was painted on his still face hit home for me more then I like to admit, because I could tell whose red face tattoos those were from all the way down the block I just sprinted.

To say Kiba Inuzaka was a friend would be an understatement. We'd been good friends since the high school days. I sipped slow as I thought back to last night, or maybe just a few hours ago,the guys and I had met up for drinks and food at Choji's house. Shame my partner Shikamaru wasn't there, he'd been caught up on a case for a while now. Everyone's schedule had been kind of hectic these days, running everyone ragged. But as usual Kiba was all smiles. Choji's home cooked meal was much needed, the alcohol Lee brought even more so for him and I. And Kiba? His laugh was infectious, it was hard not to have a good time around the guy. He recited his many stories of his travels across the Fire Country, the countless friends he made and the knowledge he wished to bring back to our little city. His plan to start a school for some of the rougher inner city kids that seemed to have more issues than others. A noble cause considering our less than humble upbringing. To think that was just yesterday.

But today is December 20th, a Tuesday. And on this day Kiba Inuzaka became famous, beneath a stage of snow, and murder.

The emotional part of my brain warred with the logical as I began to analyze the scene, by the time KPD showed up to block off the crime scene, I had already finished my cup and gathered all the useful information.

The car was bettered and rusted, definitely not Kiba' style, or maybe not even his car at all. I took a mental note of the plates. He was dressed up nice, so he most likely wasn't home. The knife wound was shallow and precise, but it looked like it avoided anything serious, and aside from that there wasn't any other affliction on Kiba. Hm, not a lot of blood either. Something else killed him perhaps? And possible the most important detail was the blade itself, black steel with a hand carved wooden grip. With a notorious family crest carved right into the middle of the handle.

I heard a familiar voice approach from behind me. "Uzamaki, what do we have here?"

But as my analyzation died down, my anger slowly began to seethe in. Every inch of me wash shaking with hatred. I turned to face the questioner with what I could only assume was flames in my eyes and continued to walk past my boss with only a couple words. "A hell of a death wish Iruka. They'll pay for this."