Chapter Six

The Box

Stepping carefully into his parents' room, Shikadai's eyes darted back and forth for anything that seemed like a trap. Although, why would his parents keep a trap in their room? He prayed he would not come across anything weird towards his venture towards their bed. He had taken this advantage to sneak into their room, since his mother was at the Hokage office working on paperwork between the alliance with the Suna and Leaf, before she had to take leave for the second child into the Nara family. His father was off on his mission with Sasuke Uchiha and wouldn't be returning for a few days.

Sneaking over to their bed, he went to the right side, where his father slept. Reaching down underneath the bed, his hand hitting something hard and solid. Bingo. When Shikadai was younger, he had seen his father stuff a wooden box underneath the bed. He had wanted to ask his father about it, but his mother beat him to it, telling him not to ask his father about the box. That only made Shikadai's curiosity grow. Now that his mother was working on the paperwork at the office instead at home, he was able to sneak into their room.

Sitting in front of him sat an oak wooden box. Carvings of deer, plants and many other designs sat there popping out. Shikadai grazed his fingers over the carvings. Deep inside he could feel that whoever did the carvings, spent years on it, pouring all their love and affection on it. It was so finely detailed and so well done, he was afraid he was going to ruin the box and his father would know exactly who touched it. Shikadai paused at the opening, thoughts flew through his mind of pros and cons of what he might discover in the box. Would it be bad or good? He was starting to regret his decision; his mother had warned him to never look into the box.

He decided to open it. It did not budge. Shikadai began to grow frustrated as he turned the box around over and over for an opening of some sort. He set it down carefully trying to remember what his mother said about the box.

"Have you ever looked in it Mom?" a five year old, Shikadai asked.

Temari set down her set of laundry she was folding onto her lap. "What are you talking about Shikadai?"

"The box Dad hides," he wrapped his arms behind his head in a lazy manner. He could visibly see his mother tense, her arm muscles tensing out then back in. Her teal eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No I haven't," she replied, her voice terse. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't."

"How come?"

He heard her mutter something about 'damn those Nara genes of smartness and curiosity,' as she completely set her load of laundry off her lap. "Only the Nara clan can open it."

"But you're a Nara, Mom," Shikadai droned.

"I don't wield shadows, Shikadai."

"Oh."

"What is in that box, is only for your father and if he decides to share he will."

Shikadai pursed his lips into a pout. "He's gross."

Temari blinked before laughing out loud. It's not that. It's a touchy and sensitive subject that makes your father - sad."

"But you know what's in it don't you?" Shikadai pressed.

His mother was silent for a few moments, before she scowled. "Maybe. I want you to forget that box and drop this conversation, little fawn."

Shikadai scowled much like how his father did at his mother, as he heard the curt voice in his mothers' voice. Wasn't she interested in what was inside the box?

"Just promise you won't open it Shikadai?" Temari whispered softly grabbing his hand gently.

Shikadai looked deep into the same exact eyes, before nodding once.

Biting his lip in concern, Shikadai's fingers fumbled over the box still in his arms. Was he still this desperate to see what was within the wooden box, his father rarely opened? What was so important to make his father hardly want to touch the small box? He had forgotten all about it, until a day ago; right after his left that morning. He had seen his father stuff a small parchment into the box and quickly sealing it with a complex hand gesture. It sparked Shikadai's interest all over again. Now he's sitting at the edge of his parents' bed, gawking at the finely decorated box.

Only the Nara's could open it, huh? he pondered. He wove a few hand signs. Nothing. He clicked his tongue in frustration. He needed to get his father to teach him more advanced shadow jutsus. His mother was teaching him wind based techniques, but that wasn't going to solve his problem with opening the box. She said she would advance his shadows techniques and training, but only when Shikamaru trained him more advanced jutsus. He figured that he shouldn't be slacking and hiding away from his training when his father did have time to train him.

Shikadai placed the box back under the bed, noting that he will see what was inside. His fingers still laid on top of the box unmoving. His brain was suffocating him with the need to open it. He tried to reason within himself that it wasn't his business what was inside, after all his father hides it. Letting impulse win yet again, he dragged it out once more. He studied the carvings more carefully. A boar was plainly on the carving near the edge of the box in the top corner. It clicked in his mind that the finely detailed animals were the seals to opening the box. The trick was to know which ones were the real deal and what were the decoys.

Boar, ram, snake, rat, monkey, tiger, boar, dragon, dog, horse, and hare. Almost all the hand signs were neatly done all over the box in a simple forest scene. Shikadai slowly did the shadow paralysis jutsu, adding the other signs. Nothing was working. He had come up with over a hundred different possible ways the signs could open the troublesome box. Here he thought he was smart enough to surpass his mother and his father, known all around the shinobi world as the Genius.

Shikadai had no idea how his father could decipher the box. Was there a step he was missing? Was he not the next generation that could literally surpass the older generation? That's what he was told by so many people, yet he could not for the love of god, figure out how to open his father's tightly sealed box.

I guess there was a reason the old man was called a genius, Shikadai sighed. Much to his chagrin, Shikadai gave up on the box and set it back underneath the bed, leaving the room. I'll figure it out another day. What a drag.