Legacy [ Naruto Reader-Insert ]

刃文 - Hamon - Blade Pattern pt 2 [End of Arc]

Careless, he said you were careless.

You rub your wrist with your left hand behind your back as you examine Shikamaru's face.

His usual grumpy expression, blanketed with a light red flush on the top of his cheekbones. That and the tip of his ears are red, red like the higanbana by the Nakano river in the Not-Void, red like the blossoming bruises on pale, almost parchment-like skin.

Red.

"Oi," Shikamaru's voice snaps you out of it, "You okay? Ataru's right, you're really out of it lately."

"Only because you've brought the fact that I'm being watched to my attention," You say, hiding any and all of your emotions behind a schooled expression of neutrality, "And now I'm jumping at every familiar face around the corner, at everything else that goes bump in the night." Your voice adopts a monotone drawl, similar to Hound's own.

(Despite what Hound said about not learning any of his bad habits, this is the one that you'll utilize the most because of the sheer amount agitation that it evokes in the being of the recipient. In this case, Shika.)

Shikamaru raises a brow at you before crossing his arms and letting out a harsh sigh that sounds like he's been posted on guard duty at a far-off outpost. In the boonies. For three days. Without any mental stimulation. "You can be really shitty at lying. I'd always brush it off before, but this time your tells are obvious," He gestures at his eyes, then glancing at his fingers that are peeking out from underneath his right arm, "Your gaze shifts slightly when you do, having one eye to watch doesn't help your case."

Wow, you are getting careless.

You blink, pausing for a brief moment.

His dark eyes dart to his fingers a couple more times as if he's telling you to follow his gaze. You look.

We are being watched. Careful of what you say. He signs to you, ever so subtly. His fingers weaving into almost-unnoticeable signs to you while his lips are uttering something else. A misdirection. To confuse the people watching you. About fifteen meters away? Thirty? The hallway looks relatively empty, a nurse down the hall from where you're standing. Out of the window? In the nearby trees? Under the window?

"Hey, eyes on me." Shikamaru centers your darting vision with a sharp tone and a cock of his head. How do you plan on playing the game if you can't play?

"Sorry, just a little shaken up," You rub the back of your neck, massaging pressure into your stiff muscles. You don't know if you're acting or if this is how you truly feel, but this performance of yours seems a little too real to be just an act. All the white noise in your mind prevents you from thinking clearly, "It just hit me. Hard." Shut it. I can play. I'm playing it right now. We're playing it right now. You copy his stance, it's much easier to sign discreetly when you're slouching.

"So you're in his team, huh? Should've known my oyaji would do something like this." He sighs, resting his weight mostly on his left leg and using his forearms to conceal his rather rapid signing next to his hip, the side of his body that isn't by the windows, if only to retort back at you. Negative. You only think that you're playing. This is child's play compared to what they actually do up there.

As ninja, you must see underneath the underneath, and underneath his words lies thinly veiled worry and concern. Sure, he cares. But what exactly is he telling you to do? To just take all the shit you have to put up with? Just like everyone else? To lay your life down for a village that doesn't care about your mental wel-