disclaimer: No own rights to Naruto
Shikamaru stifled a yawn as he stretched his arms above his head. He had just been roused from his customary pre-class nap as other students filtered in.
He often shuffled into the class an hour before now. Many might be surprised to learn he was an early riser. Not by choice mind you.
He had to be up before the sun most days due to his obligation to feed the Nara clan deer. It was too much to climb back in bed after the chore as he'd only get a half hour or so to get some extra sleep.
It was better to just head for the academy. It help that it ensured he'd get his seat every day. The class had no assigned seating of course but that didn't stop the very backmost right side seat being his.
Getting there an hour before everyone else just ensured he kept the prime real estate.
Smacking his lips tiredly Shikamaru searched the obtrusive crowd of teens for his constant companion. Choji Akimichi, a rotund easy-going boy was his closest friend bar none. The two have bonded over their mutual distaste for social norms and fast pace living.
He was unable to see his best friend, instead, his eyes fell upon something he oft tried to avoid. Eyes of icey cerulean, glassy and deep orbs that reminded him of those porcelain dolls his grandmother keeps in her guest room.
The dolls would watch over him from their home from the shelf mounted high up on the wall whenever he stayed over at grandma's place. When he was younger they would keep him up at night. Looking down at him from the perch high up on the wall-mounted shelves.
Naruto's eyes always made him feel like those glossy painted-on eyes did when he was just a little boy. An unease that made his palms clammy and his stomach feel weird.
He suppressed a shudder as he pried his eyes away from the approaching Naruto who smoothly took a seat across the aisle from him. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the teen took out his red covered notebook from his black nylon trousers pocket.
This was the guy's routine. Pulling out that cursed red booklet. Its cover wrinkled and bent painfully from having been stuffed into the boy's deep pockets.
Naruto opened the booklet, looking at its contents with great focus. Occasionally he would turn the pages, a small content smile ghosted across his lips.
Like perhaps he was holding back a chuckle. Or was just overly pleased with himself? It was infuriating.
Like the guy's cold lifeless eyes, the whole ritual put him on edge. What the fuck was he looking at in that booklet? He wasn't reading anything, his eyes didn't move across the pages. They just stared blankly down at them.
He's also never seen him write anything in it not once. In the four years he's been in the academy he's never seen a pencil pressed against those enigmatic pages.
He had contemplated simply asking the guy. He seemed approachable enough. He was constantly wearing a smile and spoke evenly and calmly to everyone. But the thought of being stared at by those doll eyes made that line of action unthinkable.
Usually, he would just give a mental shrug at the whole situation because a physical one would be too much effort. He wanted to be able to put the weirdness of that ruby-red journal out of his mind, but for some reason, he couldn't let it go.
He was givin an out of having to puzzle about the strangeness of the blond as his best friend's girth obscured Naruto as he plopped down sitting in between the two.
He focused on Choji who was according to his modus operandi killing a bag of chips without mercy.
"Morning!" Choji greeted his friend warmly between chews.
Shikamaru grumbled something unintelligible in return, letting his head fall back to the desk. Choji was undeterred by his chronically lazy friend's response to his greeting.
"So you're still coming over for dinner tonight?"
Shikamaru didn't stir from his position at his friend's question. He chose to simply groan out an affirmative.
As Choji went on to speculate about what his mother was going to be cooking that night and more and more students filtered in, outlandish theories danced around in his mind on the contents of a certain red book.
Troublesome
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a/n:
...sup?
