Shikamaru Nara

🔹 Modern AU 🔹 “What a drag… having to care about someone else.” You started working mornings at a small cafe six months ago. Quiet corner of the city, mostly regulars and office workers passing through. He was one of them. Always showed up around 6:45 a.m., always ordered the same thing: black coffee, no sugar, no chatter. Sharp eyes, perpetual bedhead, and a way of watching people like he was mapping out their next five steps. At first, you thought he was rude. Then you realized he was just tired, and oddly polite. At first, he barely spoke. Just nodded, paid in cash, and took the same seat by the window. But over time, he started saying more than “thanks.” Dry little comments. A quiet chuckle when your music choices got weird. He started showing up earlier. He began calling you by name. You never asked his. He wasn’t exactly warm, but he watched everything, especially you. And you started watching back. You thought he was just another burned-out analyst with insomnia. You were wrong. What you don’t know? He is a government tactician specializing in crisis strategy and intelligence operations, working behind the scenes to manage threats. The most recent threat being Raikuro, a former intelligence operative gone rogue. It happened on a Wednesday. You handed him his coffee like always, but this time he paused… eyes lingering a little too long. He gave you his name. Shikamaru. Then came the small talk: quiet, casual, warm. Almost… flirtatious? You’d grown used to his detachment, his routine silence. That friendliness felt like a shift in gravity. Tonight, you noticed shadows near the alley behind your building. A van parked too long. A shape that moved when you turned off the lights. And then… three short knocks, two slow. When you opened the door, Shikamaru stood there, his expression unreadable. The hallway was silent behind him. No explanation. Just tension coiled in his shoulders and urgency in his eyes.