Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto
Chapter 2
Succession
Asuma pushed the door open and sighed. Part of him wanted to curse while the other laugh. Digging in his pockets, he pulled out a kunai and aimed it at the man comfortably leaned in the chair, feet crossed on the table, head tangent to the wall, and eyes firmly closed. With the precise flick of his wrist, the kunai soared through the air. The sleeping man's hand shot up and caught the pointed dagger, inches from his face
"Damn Asuma; I never thought you'd try to take me out." He said jokingly, his eyes still closed.
Asuma chuckled. "You gotta sleep with one eye open in this business Shikamaru."
Shikamaru opened one eye and tossed the kunai back to Asuma. A sleepy smile spread across his lips. In the treacherous underworld, Asuma was the one person he could sincerely trust.
"Catch your sleep at home Shikamaru. You know better than that." Asuma said before sinking into a rickety folding chair.
"Yeah, whatever." Shikamaru closed his eye again. "Acts like my nagging mother." He muttered.
Asuma smirked. Eyes trained on the sleeping Shikamaru, he could have almost mistaken the young man for a harmless office worker, but the man languidly stretched in front of him was anything but harmless.
Shikamaru yawned loudly before lazily attempting conversation. "Tell me you're not here with a job for me. Gorou could quit fucking overworking me once in awhile."
Asuma snorted. "You won't have to worry about that anymore."
His eyes opened slowly, revealing the dark pools that reflected darkly back at Asuma.
"He's dead." Asuma stated it as though it were something as trivial as the weather.
If Shikamaru's facial features changed at all, it was only fractionally.
"Who did the geezer in?" He asked, slightly interested.
Asuma shrugged. "Hiro and Ken were guarding him last night. Apparently, they were doing a pretty shitty job since they let him get killed." He remarked.
"Was he with anyone?"
Asuma tapped his finger on the chair's metal frame. "Well, now that I think about it..." His voice trailed.
"Hmm?" Shikamaru leaned forward, releasing his head from its position on the wall.
"Gorou said something about going to meet that woman he's been seeing."
Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Which one? There's at least ten right now."
"Ayumi." Asuma replied.
"Ah." Shikamaru said. He'd never seen her himself, but from the way the Gorou continually spoke about her, Shikamaru could tell he'd taken a severe liking to her over the past few months.
"Yeah. He seemed to be really fond of her. From what Hiro and Ken said, she was very attractive."
Shikamaru took in the information quietly. Gorou's death wasn't something he was distraught over. He was more concerned about the responsibility that had abruptly fallen on him.
After losing both parents in his mid teens, Nara Shikamaru had been thrown into an unforgiving world to fend for himself. Alone, penniless, and too indolent to keep a job, Shikamaru resorted to his instincts for survival. He wasn't exceedingly blessed, but he used what he did have. And he possessed just what he needed to survive: intelligence and power.
Word quickly spread in the underground of a young shadow manipulator whose intellect matched his physical strength and soon, Shikamaru became a person of interest. His ability to wield shadows was not only unique but also devastatingly effective.
Finally, he was approached by Takero Gorou, a small time underground loan shark. Apparently, Gorou wanted Shikamaru badly; so much that he'd traveled from Suna to Konoha just to ensure he would obtain Shikamaru first.
"I'll make you into something big kid. With your strength and smarts, you'll rule the shadows right along with me." Gorou had said when he approached him under the naked glow of the streetlamp that wintry night in Konoha.
Shikamaru could still remember the way his breath crystallized as he watched each movement Gorou made, sizing up his offer. His answer had been simple, yet honest.
"Big?" He shook his head. "I don't want to be big." He said, his eyes gleaming under the pale streetlamps while a set smirk settled on his lips. "Rule the shadows?" He murmured disbelievingly. Again he shook his head. Under the streaming moonlight, he stretched out arm and brought forth the dark tendrils that slowly crept up under Gorou. The man shuddered as Shikamaru's eyes bore straight into his own. "Remember this," his voice lowered, "I am the shadows."
Now, four years after that cold night, he'd become Gorou's right hand man. Gorou always treated Shikamaru differently, like a special possession, and Shikamaru wondered why.
Initially, Shikamaru wasn't sure why Gorou had taken such a liking to him. Just exactly why had Gorou chosen him? After being taken in, it occurred to him. Gorou had taken him off the streets, put clothes on his back, and given food to eat not because he was kind hearted, but because he was Gorou's guarantee. It wasn't Shikamaru that Gorou saw, but what Shikamaru could do; what Shikamaru could make him. The man had taken him in as a tool to wield as he wished.
Regardless, Shikamaru left Konoha and never looked back. He figured if Gorou was going to use him; he'd also use Gorou. And steadily, Gorou, once a fledgling loan shark barely getting by, rode the crest of Shikamaru's strength and rose higher. When it came time for people to pay back their exorbitant loan, Shikamaru would go collect. Many could not pay the money back, and under Gorou's command, he wielded his strength. Shikamaru had repossessed property, threatened people, and broken families, but in this business, that was an everyday occurrence.
Inwardly, he felt for those whose lives he made more miserable with each passing day, but to do his job, he pushed his conscience further into the darkness he controlled.
After awhile, Gorou wasn't just issuing loans. Money surged in, allowing the man to expand into other shady ventures. He began making friends with higher dealers in the shadows, and soon enough, Gorou had dived head first into selling information.
Though he fought for Gorou, Shikamaru detested it. As a naïve teenager, he thought he was aware of the seedy entrails of the underworld, but after hearing the pleading cries of people begging for just one more day on their loan and seeing the havoc he and Gorou's henchmen had wreaked on the lives of innocent people, Shikamaru truly realized what it meant to work in the shadows.
And all for what? Money? Power? Prestige? It was ridiculous. But he endured it. Shikamaru never voiced his thoughts to anyone but Asuma. Betrayal was equivalent to suicide in this business. Despite the amount of power one possessed, it was just something you didn't do. Even if you managed to escape your boss, there were plenty of other people willing to take you out.
And yet, for some, there was an allure to this lifestyle. The money filled, adrenaline saturated, precarious life was often grossly over glamorized to those who knew nothing of it. He lived this life, not because he desired it, but merely out of necessity; a practicality of sorts.
Granted, after doing this for four years, he had more money than he knew what to do with. However, it all came at a very high price. Those in the shadows woke every morning, wondering if today would be their last. Within the shrouds of darkness that swathed the underground, life was expendable.
Gorou was now a prime example of that. He'd lived the high life for a short period of time, but no amount of money could bring him back now.
Shikamaru's eyes trailed across the small space that posed as Gorou's faux office. Strangely enough, it was his now. Everything Gorou owned was now his.
Although he was the last to join Gorou's small faction, Shikamaru had assumed the role of "favorite." Shikamaru expected Asuma, the older man who'd been with Gorou the longest, to be the next boss, but Gorou had chosen Shikamaru instead. While Shikamaru wasn't entirely fond of Gorou, Asuma was the closest thing Shikamaru had to a family. Though he worked in the shadows, Asuma disliked everything about it. Shikamaru admired Asuma's realistic view on life and even if he never verbalized it, Shikamaru knew he could trust Asuma with anything.
But, Gorou had already made it clear to everyone else under him who was next in line if anything should happen to him. Shikamaru scoffed when Gorou said it, dismissing the thought.
But it had happened. Gorou was dead.
Realization dawned upon him, its recoil hitting him like a skillfully aimed punch.
"Fuck." His voice caught in his throat. It was really all his now. Abruptly sitting up, Shikamaru kicked his legs off the table, the chair squeaking stridently as he leaned back.
"Asuma." He called the older man.
Asuma turned only to observe the deepening expression on Shikamaru's face.
"I'm the fucking head of this fucking group now..." Shikamaru tone was subdued. His sentence a cross between a statement and a question while his voice strained against the building pressure in is chest. An uncomfortably warmth suddenly permeated his mouth, thoughts whirling in his mind as he forced it to calm down and form coherent thoughts.
He needed to get out. He needed to think.
Stiffly rising from the table, he pushed the chair against the wall and stepped around the table.
"I'm going to get a drink. I'll be back later." Shikamaru said.
"Sure thing...boss." Asuma's voice was low, his eyes carefully gauged Shikamaru's reaction.
Shikamaru made no effort to hide the darkened look that colored his face as he strode toward the exit and disappeared behind the door's frosted glass.
--
Cradling the delicate crystal in her slender fingers, Temari absentmindedly ran her thumb along the intricate etching on the wine glass' stem. The deep maroon smoothly circled the inside of the glass while its warm aroma carefully made its scent distinct yet discreet while melding with the other scents that wafted throughout the bar.
After arriving home the night before, she'd slept in until the sun glared through her windows and even pricked through the pillow she'd thrown across her face, hoping to thwart the light from entering her eyes. She'd taken the day off and used it to catch up on whatever needed to be done in her apartment. Outside of her job, she led an average life. Even she did laundry like normal people. But after being home all day, she yearned to escape its confining walls and thus, she found solace in the bar not too far from her apartment.
The bulbous upper portion of the glass rested calmly in her palm as her lips met the rim, her tongue savoring the alcohol's rich flavor. It had been a good day off, a bit quick, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Temari set her drink down just before dark haired man brushed in next to her. Lazily, he seated himself on a barstool next to her.
"What can I get for you mister?" The good-natured bartender asked as he arranged the wineglasses overhead.
Crossing his arms on the bar, the man shrugged. "Whatever you feel like. Nothing too troublesome, preferably on the rocks."
Temari quietly listened in while sipping her drink. The rich timbre of his voice was smooth and low, yet laced with the slightest bit of drawl. She could nearly feel the muted resonance of his chest in hers.
The bartender smiled. "I wish all customers were like you."
A small smile tugged on his lips. "I'm easy to please."
Casually, Temari turned her head, pretending to be reading the labels on bottles of alcohol. Her eyes, drifting along the crisp, yellowing edges of labels, carefully darted between scanning bottles and studying the man next to her.
He was dressed casually, clad in jeans and an olive green t-shirt. Unknowingly, her eyes trailed up his sides and lingered on the lean muscles that banded his arms. Dark eyes, partially obscured by sinfully thick chocolate locks, shone lightly under the muted lighting. The right corner of his smooth lips was slightly turned down, completing his laid-back look.
On the surface, his expression almost appeared to be lazy, but Temari noted the passive strength his eyes held beneath the heavy lashes that shaded over them.
The bartender returned with the man's drink and slid a small glass tumbler on a coaster his way.
"More wine for you Temari-san?" The bartender asked, pointing to her drained glass.
"Yes." She replied, handing the glass back to him.
Shikamaru silently noticed the attractive woman next to him as he nonchalantly drank from his glass. So, her name was Temari. At least that was what the bartender had addressed her by. She'd been watching him for some reason. She seemed harmless enough, but his instincts told him otherwise.
She'd barely spoken, but her voice, low and sultry, had saturated the one word she'd said. Making conversation with strangers was troublesome, but for some reason, this woman had somehow peaked his interest.
"Pretty women shouldn't drink alone." He remarked quietly, as she received her refilled wineglass.
"Oh?" She replied as a smirk settled on her face, her voice a hushed murmur among the general din.
Shikamaru nodded. "Typically, most women are toting some man along with them."
"I'm not like most women." She said shrugging, her aquamarine eyes shimmering dangerously.
He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shallow vibrating in his jeans. His hand deftly slid into his pockets and retrieved the buzzing phone before flipping it open.
"Yeah?" He answered lazily into the receiver.
"It's Asuma. Ken stepped in right after you left. He told me what happened last night, and he thinks Gorou's lady friend might have had something to do with his untimely death."
"Really..." Shikamaru's voice trailed. He wasn't in the mood to go back to the office right now.
"I'm looking stuff up on her now, but I'm not finding too much. Whatever she's doing, she has something to hide."
"Do I need to come back now?
"Yes. Hiro's on his way too. We need to discuss how things are going continue, now that Gorou's dead." Asuma stated firmly.
"Fine." Shikamaru replied defeated. "I'll see you in about fifteen minutes then." Flipping the phone shut, he sighed. Addressing the current state of affairs was the last thing he wanted to do. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and quickly downed the rest of his drink.
Pulling out his wallet, he paid for the drink and tipped the bartender. Shikamaru was about to leave when he turned and faced Temari.
"Don't drink alone next time pretty woman." He said before sliding off the barstool and heading toward the exit.
Temari chuckled darkly. What a strange man.