The Life of a Ninja
Having passed the Chūnin Selection Test personally administered by a Jōnin and officially becoming a genin, Shikamaru's parents—Nara Shikaku and Nara Yoshino—were both deeply pleased. Shikaku in particular couldn't suppress his smile when he learned that Shikamaru had received the highest possible A-rank evaluation.
The day after Shikamaru's status as a genin was confirmed, after dinner, Shikamaru was summoned to the study by his father.
Once seated, Nara Shikaku took a moment to organize his thoughts before saying,"From this moment on, you're a true shinobi. An A-rank evaluation—this is how Sarutobi Asuma described you when reporting to the Hokage."
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. He hadn't known the specifics until now, but Shikaku's serious tone made things clear.
Looking at his son, Shikaku wore a complex expression. He had always felt that Shikamaru's character was a contradiction. Calm, rational, and mature, with a thirst for knowledge that stood in stark contrast to his usual lazy demeanor. He often brimmed with energy and possessed a mindset far beyond his age, with deeply hidden ambition.
Although it seemed that Shikamaru understood the significance of such an evaluation, Shikaku, as a father, still chose to speak solemnly:"The evaluation you received will draw the attention of the village. But don't get any illusions—this won't mean that the village will suddenly pour resources into you. On the contrary, the higher-ups might assign you more—and more difficult—missions to help you grow. As for danger, while they won't throw you into a deathtrap, your path won't be easy either. Understand this: those with talent must bear greater responsibility."
Shikamaru nodded seriously. With the mind of an adult, he understood immediately. That whole idea of "throwing geniuses into danger to stimulate their potential" was utter nonsense—unless one had enemies among the village leadership, no Konoha elder would do something that idiotic during peacetime. A gradual and controlled training process was far more sensible. Of course, it didn't mean they would always be coddled—danger and crisis would still come, but only when proper safeguards and supervision were in place.
After all, even genin are shinobi. In a military system where each individual matters, losing even one operative is a real cost. No shinobi village is so extravagant that it can afford to treat its ninjas as expendable cannon fodder.
That Shikamaru understood this so quickly and didn't ask any questions left Shikaku, who wasn't great at expressing himself, unsure how to continue. The air in the room turned a little heavy.
Despite being a child in body, Shikamaru had the soul of a grown man with firmly rooted values and worldview. Though Shikaku and Yoshino were truly his parents in this world and treated him with genuine care, Shikamaru could never fully regard them as his parents in the same way he had once regarded his parents in his previous life. Complete emotional identification was difficult.
"Ah…" Shikaku, after a brief silence, let out an awkward chuckle. Like many traditional men from Shikamaru's previous life, he wasn't good with words or expressing affection. So he tried to fill the silence with something practical:"Your mother and I discussed giving you a gift to celebrate your becoming a ninja. Your mom wanted to prepare a surprise, but I thought it would be better to give you something useful."
Shikaku paused, then looked at his thoughtful son with a serious gaze. As if returning to the dynamic they had in earlier years—one older, one younger—conversing in this very room, he said in a measured tone,"As a ninja, you'll spend your life in combat and constant training. You must learn to understand yourself—your weaknesses and deficiencies—and find ways to improve. But never let someone else discover those flaws before you do. Because you don't know whether they are friend… or foe. Over the years, I've watched your progress. You should have some understanding of yourself by now. So, as your father, and as a fellow ninja further down the path, I ask you—what do you currently lack?"
This wasn't just a conversation; it was a test—and a father's concern. Shikamaru had always been seen as "the best," and while he acted maturely, he was still just a child in others' eyes, susceptible to arrogance.
Understanding the intent behind the question, Shikamaru lowered his head and thought seriously. As for learning new ninjutsu, there was no rush. With Shikaku's mentorship, he would receive proper training when the time came. The fact that he hadn't started learning certain techniques yet only meant he wasn't ready for them.
Frankly, Shikaku's current status and influence in the village were still limited. This wasn't the era where Tsunade had taken office and the Nara Clan had risen in prominence. Even within the clan or village, there weren't many special resources available.
So after pondering for a while, Shikamaru gave a wry smile and said,"What I want the most right now… seems to be something you can't give me."
Shikaku didn't show any displeasure at the response. He simply looked into Shikamaru's eyes and asked,"What is it you want?"No matter how bad he was at expressing emotions, he was still a father—and he didn't want to refuse his son's honest request.
"A chakra blade," Shikamaru replied plainly.
Shikaku was momentarily stunned before giving a bitter smile,"That… I really don't have. Anything else you want?"
Chakra metal was incredibly rare. Due to its special properties, it was as precious in this world as mithril in the fantasy legends of Shikamaru's previous life—perhaps even more so. As someone who had yet to become clan head or squad leader, Shikaku simply didn't have the resources to obtain something that valuable.
Shikamaru thought again, then shook his head."Nothing else in particular for now. Let's postpone the gift until later—maybe when I truly need something."
At the moment, Shikamaru's body was entering a stage of rapid development. His chakra reserves and ninjutsu skills were advancing quickly. He had also begun physical training and was experimenting with light weighted gear—not too much, of course. He understood that too much could be counterproductive.
The weights weren't solid blocks but small pouches of iron sand that made noise when he moved. This was intentional—it trained coordination and body control. Years of accumulated knowledge were finally transforming into actual strength as his body matured. Like two people trying to reach a destination—one wandering while figuring out the path, the other using a detailed map—the efficiency was incomparable.
If he truly needed anything now, it would be power.
Thanks to his years of study, Shikamaru already had some ideas for new techniques. But though he had a "map," he had no reference model to copy from anymore—he would have to explore on his own. His current strength was insufficient to test and refine these jutsu.
Whether they would work or not—whether the research direction was flawed—could only be proven later. He had no intention of reporting his ideas to the Nara clan for help. Even if they had the ability, why risk it? These techniques would be his future trump cards—his foundation for standing out on the battlefield and gaining fame. If someone within the clan ever competed with him for leadership and leaked those techniques to enemies, who would he have to blame but himself?
It didn't matter that he couldn't experiment now. He would grow. It would be foolish to reveal his cards just for short-term gain. That was not the choice of a wise man.
Besides, one of the jutsu he had recently started working on was progressing rapidly.
If any technique in the original series was described in the most detail, it was undoubtedly Naruto's signature jutsu—the Rasengan. It took several episodes just to walk through the learning process and methodology. An A-rank jutsu that required no specific chakra nature and no hand seals? Of course Shikamaru, a shameless master of "appropriation," would seize the chance.
There were only a handful of people in the world who knew that technique—and none had any contact with him. So if he used it… who would doubt it was his invention?
Shameless? Maybe. But between "noble ideals" and "survival," Shikamaru chose the latter.
In many ways, the Rasengan was more practical than the Chidori. The Chidori needed a specific chakra nature and a Sharingan to be truly effective. Its piercing sound and obvious visual cues made it easy to counter. The Rasengan, by contrast, required no hand seals and could be unleashed in an instant.
When Naruto eventually learned the technique from Jiraiya, any Konoha ninja who saw it assumed its origins. Before, they thought of the Fourth Hokage. Now, they'd think: the Fourth—and Nara Shikamaru.