I really like the idea of the new Nara parents being completely childish at times.

.[::].

[Shikadai accidentally discovering that he has an affinity with wind like his mom]

iv. the real children

"Come on, Shikamaru, just one-"

"- Temari, I can't just do that

"- Are you kidding me, look, you have a whole stack of them right there in front of you-"

Feeling as apprehensive as he usually did, Shikadai slid open the door to the kitchen. There was his mother and father, and truthfully, he wasn't very surprised. She leaned over him, one hand on the table, and he stared back, his position actually somewhat defiant.

He scratched the back of his head. "I'm gonna g-"

"Wait," his mother commanded, and Shikadai froze. From the corner of his eye, he could see his father sighing.

"Temari, be reasonable-"

But his mother shot him a withering look, and instead, with a flick of her finger, a sheet of paper came flying toward Shikadai. He blinked as the paper hit his hand, before falling limply to the side.

His parents stared.

"Ha!" Temari guffawed, and his mother puffed out her chest (as she often does, he noted), and she paraded over toward him. "Do you know what this means? Do you?"

Shikadai looked down to his feet. "The paper's in two," he deadpanned. But then his mother clapped both hands on his shoulder, making him jump slightly.

"Exactly," she said proudly. She turned her head, her voice going from elated to sly. "Looks like your oh so powerful Nara genes only go as far as aesthetics," she exclaimed.

Normally, Shikadai expected his father to roll his eyes, laugh it off, do something that was much less of a reaction. But instead, he stood up with a surprising amount of vigor, considering his character. "Wait, it could be that the paper took your chakra, and not his-"

His mother's eyes narrowed. "No way, you're not weaseling your way out of this one."

"Will someone explain what's going on?" Shikadai complained. And of course, the grip on his shoulders only tightened.

"Your mother thinks you have wind chakra," his father stated, and though his tone seemed disarmingly aloof, Shikadai knew him. And he could read that he was actually interested.

"He does have wind chakra," Temari said, her voice no longer excited, but more challenging. "If you deny it, let's do another test."

His father stared. "No, I don't think Naruto will be happy if I lose another sheet-"

"- What is this test?" Shikadai asked, his curiosity beating his usual attempts at impassiveness whenever his parents had their weird little not-really-arguments. His mother beamed – beamed, and that was terrifying on its own – before she marched up to his dad.

"He wants to know," she said.

"Yes, because you've prefaced it that way-"

"- You just don't want to admit our child might have my affinity and not yours."

Shikadai sighed. Suddenly, this weird fight-argument-thing made sense. His parents – they sometimes acted like they were still school kids. (He didn't dwell on the fact that he's exactly one of those school kids, too.)

And, as he predicted, his father's eyebrow twitched. "One more sheet can't hurt," he muttered. And with careful aptitude, he plucked one sheet between a pair of chopsticks. "Shikadai, can you focus some chakra to your hands?"

"Please," his mother added on, and her voice was so strangely excited that Shikadai was tempted to drain chakra out of his hands entirely.

Instead, he held his hands out, the sheet of white, innocent paper falling into his palms.

The paper sliced in half.

"I told you!" His mother triumphed, pumping the air with a fist as his dad stared incredulously. "Yes, that's another one for me!"

"Another what?" Shikadai asked, but his father's groan of contempt easily drowned out his voice. "Another what?" His parents had all but lost interest, seeing as his dad suddenly brought up his looks and the same argument that he's a Nara blah blah blah.

Of course he's a Nara, why wouldn't he be?

But then his mother was gloating. "Nope, I can't hear you, he's got Suna in him," she sang, dancing out of his father's reach as he tried to reason louder that he was winning.

For all purposes forgotten, Shikadai couldn't help but to raise his eyes skyward.

God, his parents were such children at times.