Episode 2: Meeting the Locals
Shikamaru Nara, ANBU trained commando and special agent extraordinaire, sat quietly at the back of a rusting bus while it moved—more like rumbled—down a street in downtown Suna. The city was quiet and the street lights above were all at half power or shut off entirely and thus cast the "city of sand" into a multi-layered, thickly shadowed apparition of a demonic graveyard.
The bus continued down the deserted streets without encountering a single being, living or otherwise. It eventually came to a jolting stop at a battered and graffiti peppered stop sign. Shikamaru signaled the driver, who looked like he was about to pass out, and exited the rusty death trap after paying the bus fare.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, Shikamaru walked aimlessly down several blocks before stopping at a large motel with the words "Golden Jewel" in ill maintained, badly flickering neon lights. Most of the windows were cracked, those that weren't were busted open outright. The walls had mold growing on the outside and there was an extremely unusual smell wafting outwards towards him from the front doors.
"Seems homey enough," Shikamaru said to himself as he lit a cigarette and walked into the rancid establishment. The inside was worse than the outside.
The walls were peeling, the floors were scratched and bent—some of the nails were even gone or were sticking up from the floorboards. The occupants, if they could be called that, were gulping down a variety of drinks from a multitude of dirty mugs. To one side of the room sat a large television that was broadcasting live the Suna-Kiri martial arts tournament, a bitter match given the two nations rivalry. Directly opposite of the television sat a gambling table—around which sat several greasy figures in coveralls and several figures in hoodless robes as they played a slightly modified version of five card stud called Sökö. Between both forms of entertainment was a bar and front desk combination that was set up against the far wall opposite the front entrance. A tall, bald headed man stood behind it mixing drinks while also keeping one firm eye on the gambling table and another on the television.
"Room for the night," Shikamaru said plainly as he sat down at the bar. The bartender finished preparing whatever concoction that had been ordered and slid it over to a female at the far end of the counter who had already had far too many drinks. Whether it was because of her exotic hair style or her...well, ample curves, Shikamaru found himself staring. To Shikamaru's surprise, she actually winked at him while giggling under her drink. He turned away redder than Hinata when Naruto had kissed her the first time so many years ago.
"I'd avoid that one," The bartender warned as he looked with something that seemed like a mixture of pity and annoyance at the wasted female at the end of the bar. "She's deadly," he said, completely serious as he handed Shikamaru a room key.
"Every women I ever meet seems to be," Shikamaru said softly as he paid the man with currency from the Nation of Earth. No need to give away any hints about where he was from. The man still eyed him funny, but shrugged and placed the hard coins in the register before fixing the lady at the end of the bar another drink.
Shikamaru shrugged and walked off towards the doorway that led to the bedrooms. He had to walk down a short hallway, then up a flight of steps, and then down another hallway to a small door, but he found his room with less trouble than he normally did on missions.
The room was, like every room he ever purchased for any amount of time, completely barren of anything but the standard furniture that most decorators deemed to be absolutely necessary for any bedroom ever designed. Upon entering, Shikamaru immediately noticed the nondescript bed on the right wall with a battered nightstand next to it that held a broken lamp. Across from the bed was a shattered mirror, the shards were still on the ground. The far wall was completely gone and in it's place was a poorly constructed balcony that had barely enough space to look out, much less stand on. Between the balcony and the bed was a badly dented piece of cloth that Shikamaru guessed was supposed to act as a doorway for the bathroom. Closer inspection of the bathroom revealed that it held a toilet missing it's top lid, a rusting sink that was missing it's wooden panel stand, and a shower/bathtub combo that was sporting a combination of rust, mold, and blood.
Sighing, Shikamaru turned on the shower before returning to his room. Taking off his pack, Shikamaru quickly unloaded said pack and quietly stowed away his various possessions. Once he had hidden everything he thought might be useful into one of the many crevices or cracks that lined the inside of the room, Shikamaru pulled several explosive charges and hid them throughout the room as well. In his line of business, it was better safe than sorry when it came to the enemy surprising you. There was actually a rule written in ANBU headquarters for this sort of thing.
RULE ONE: IF CAPTURE IS UNAVOIDABLE, BLOW UP.
That always weeded out any wimps that somehow got selected for ANBU training. The first thing they had to do was memorize the rules of the organization—and they were extensive—and that rule generally took ninety nine percent of the candidates out that might have dropped anyways.
Washing up the grime and grit from his face—his trip from Konoha to Suna had consisted of a six hour flight and then a two hour bus ride—before stripping off his dirty clothing, shoes, and jacket. That done, the special agent drew his sidearm and entered the bathroom.
Leaving the weapon on the top of the toilet next to the shower, Shikamaru stepped into the slightly less grimy tube and unthinkingly turned the water all the way up. The fact that it was surprisingly cold in the desert at night was the last thing Shikamaru thought before the new water tempearture hit him.
"OWWWWWWWWW!" He screamed in mutual levels of pain and shock as the, literally, boiling water from the shower head befell him in a pulsing gush of water. The special agent banged against the glass door comically and then the cracked stone wall—at least he hoped it had been cracked—before finally escaping the deadly shower. He should have remembered how hot the water must be in Suna. Cold water was considered an extreme luxury here. To his great frustration, Shikamaru found that he had somehow busted the handle on the shower, rendering it stuck on the hottest setting until repaired. Shikamaru groaned.
Deciding that he really didn't have the energy to deal with the shower, Shikamaru grabbed his pistol and returned to his bedroom, where he was fully prepared to go to sleep. But of course, a couple one room down just had to announce to the world just how energetic their feelings were for each other in increasingly loud tones. Swearing loudly at the sudden—and to be fair, unintended—reminder of what he had possibly lost, Shikamaru hammered on the wall long enough to add to the dents already coating it.
Deciding that the gods hated him, Shikamaru slammed his fist into the wall once more before pulling on a pair of trousers, slipping into his sneakers, and then finally grabbing his jacket and pistol. He turned off the lights to the motel room and grabbed his room keys before slamming his door and storming down the hallway. He all but flew down the stairs and was returning to the lobby in record time.
"Something wrong with your room?" The bartender asked as he fell back onto the bar stool for the second time that night. "We don't give refunds here," he warned as he sent a drink down the smooth surface of the bar. It was probably the only smooth surface in the entire establishment.
"I need a drink..." Shikamaru told him wearily as images assaulted him. Her blond hair, her smile...
Shikamaru shook himself violently; he did not need her. He did not care...
"This stiff enough for you?" the bartender asked in the thick western accent that all of the Wind people seemed to talk with. It was like smooth butter being poured over flaking coal chunks. Wow, he really needed a drink.
Nodding to the bartender, Shikamaru took the drink and hammered it down like his father had taught him. Asuma had taught him how to smoke, his dad had taught him how to drink. Now if Tsunade could share hot to get laid so quickly he would be all set. Huh, Suna had some strong stuff...
"I'm impressed," the baretender said sincerely. "Never seen a anyone down one of those that fast, much less at a foreigner."
"I'm not anyone," Shikamaru said as he made a gesture for another round. "That's actually pretty good," he said as the glass was refilled and he took another swig, downing the second glass easily and probably faster than the first.
"Best liquor in Suna," the man assured him before turning back to the other customers at the bar. Shikamaru ignored him for the rest of the night and proceeded to get as drunk as possible.
"Wasted up to your eyebrows is about the only thing that can cure heartache son," his father had once said. Turns out he was right.
Shikamaru wasn't sure how he had made it from the bar at the back of the—now dimly lit—motel lobby all the way over to the gambling table. He wasn't sure how long he had been drinking or the quantity. He wasn't even quite sure what game he was playing anymore. All that he did know was that he was winning, and by several thousand ryō too.
"Raise," someone said at last as chips were stacked a bit higher and cards were dealt out. The few remaining players that were sitting at the table glanced at their cards and waited for their turn. Shikamaru, who was first, drained what was left of his mug and mustered the strength to confidently push four large stacks of bright blue chips forward. Several gasps echoed around the table as the dealer paled.
"Raise," Shikamaru said before burping loudly. The man closest to Shikamaru folded, as did three others. The only one that didn't fold matched him and the final set of cards were dealt out. The two men stared at their respective cards and waited.
After an unbearably long pause, Shikamaru spoke, "call," came the quiet statement, but like a sandstorm forming distantly on the horizon, there was far more danger to that one word than one might originally think.
The man across from Shikamaru flipped his cards over, revealing a king, queen, jack, ten, and a nine all neatly arranged in a row. All were bearers of the same card suit; the drunk man's grin was threatening to circle around his neck and form a circle. "Ya looose! Eh, stupid Earth rat!" the man spat, scowling at him as he reached to drag the massive pile of chips towards him.
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, smirked, and then flipped his cards over. The entire table gasped yet again and stared in wonder at the cards lying before Shikamaru. Ace...king...queen...jack...ten...
"Royal flush," Shikamaru said calmly and collected his winnings, which was over eight thousand ryō.
On the other side of the table, the drunken man's face went through several changes rapidly. Shock, disbelief, and rage flashed across his face before finally becoming black with rage. "I...I kill you!" He sputtered and lunged across the table; Shikamaru, through thoroughly wasted, managed to deck the man in the center of his face and watched as he flew backwards and comically crash into a pair of men that had been watching from behind. He'd have to thank Lee for teaching him the "Drunken Fist" technique.
"CHEATER!" The man roared in a drunken rage as he and his friends jumped up from their heap on the ground and charged Shikamaru. The special agent merely grunted and kicked the table out from under him. Multi colored chips scattered everywhere as the metal table flew into the leader of the trio.
The man screamed wildly as the table crushed his waist and legs, it's weight easily greater than his own. The other two men paused only momentarily, but that was all Shikamaru needed; his right fist sent "drunken friend number one" to the floor and his left sent "drunken moron number two" down with him. At the end of the entire fight,—which lasted less than ten seconds—Shikamaru glanced at the terrified dealer and the three men that were glaring at him with unhidden hatred.
"Anyone else care to take a shot at me?" Shikamaru asked as he drew his pistol calmly. No one moved, all eyes were on the gleaming pistol held casually in the odd foreigner's palm. "Good," Shikamaru said calmly and pointed at the door with his gun, "scram," he told them and watched as they dug their buddy—who had already passed out—from under the table before fleeing from the establishment. Shikamaru noticed the rest of the motel's occupants either fled to their rooms or to the street, no one wanted to be in the same room as a drunk from the Earth lands who was waiving a gun around.
Stalking over to the bar once again, Shikamaru placed the pistol on the counter and banged his glass against the polished wood impatiently. "More," he complained sullenly as he thought about picking up his winnings that were scattered throughout the lobby floor. Nah, too much effort was required.
"Your paying damages," the bartender said gruffly as he refilled Shikamaru's glass. The man noticeably did not appear to be scared or worried by the gun or Shikamaru's actions. He seemed perfectly at ease in fact, Shikamaru reluctantly respected him for that fact.
"M'kay," he said as he pressed his cheek down onto the bar and looked at the bubbles forming in the richly colored liquid inside the glass mug. After a few seconds he noticed there was something even more interesting sitting next to him. Or rather, two very curvy somethings.
"Like what you see handsome?" an incredibly silky voice asked as Shikamaru finally got his eyes above chest level. It was the girl—no, woman—from before that had been drinking far too much. She was even more wasted now, however, Shikamaru wasn't in a very good position to argue this point given his current condition.
"Yeah," He said huskily as he took in her face for the first time. She had that weird, exotic looking four ponytail hair style that just suited her. And her skin was somehow shockingly—yet also alluring-pale for someone from the Wind country. Her emerald green eyes were somehow both smoldering and freezing. "I'm in love," Shikamaru said, the heavy Suna drink on his breath mingling with the same scent on her own. When had she gotten that close?
"Ditto pineapple head," She whispered in a sexy little drunken accent before throwing herself on top of him as her mouth quickly claimed his.
"Temar..." the bartender started to say, only for the pistol to be leveled at him while the blonde haired woman ravished the man beneath her using the wooden stools as a support. "Okay then, you too have fun..." he said calmly before locking up the liquor bottles and heading for his office. If Gaara was going to kill anyone, it was going to be the foreign guy. He had done as instructed, should such an incident happen. Besides, maybe she would be a little more relaxed after getting some sack time. Or maybe she would kill everyone. He honestly didn't care so long as he wasn't anywhere in the vicinity when Gaara found out.
Wow, only two chapters in and I ALREADY have the main couple together...I thought I would hold out longer...ah well.
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Hope you enjoyed the second episode, see you next week!
Lostsword
