Days passed, but the unsettling experiences Shikamaru faced continued to weigh heavily on him. The voice had not returned, but the shadows moved differently now—more fluid, more willing. Every time he practiced, he could feel them waiting for his command, lurking just beneath his thoughts. The presence of Zed, though silent, felt closer than ever, like a shadow looming over his shoulder.
But Shikamaru refused to give in. He had made a promise to himself: he would control the shadows without succumbing to whatever darkness lay within him. If Zed wanted to haunt him, fine. He would just have to prove he could live with it.
Today, the Academy had announced a test in basic ninjutsu, and Shikamaru was feeling the pressure to perform well, though he would never admit it. The quiet whispers from his classmates had reached him—they already suspected he was a slacker, someone with a natural gift who wasted it with his laziness. He'd always ignored them before, but now, with the shadows' power growing within him, he felt a strange urge to push himself.
In the training yard, the young ninja students were lined up, each taking turns practicing their jutsu under the guidance of Iruka-sensei. Naruto, his fellow classmate, was getting some laughs from the group after a less-than-stellar attempt at the Transformation Jutsu, which ended with him as a poorly-formed replica of the Hokage, complete with a lopsided hat. Shikamaru would have laughed if his mind wasn't still buzzing with the weight of Zed's influence.
"Alright, Shikamaru, you're up next," Iruka called out.
Shikamaru nodded, stepping forward. His usual bored expression softened a bit as he prepared his jutsu. He stretched his fingers, summoning his shadow with a concentration he didn't usually show in class. The familiar, comforting blackness spread across the ground, reaching for the target dummy before him.
It was a simple exercise, one he had done a dozen times before. But as the shadow stretched further, he felt a familiar pull within him—the urge to push the technique, to let the shadows unfurl with the deadly accuracy that Zed's memories promised.
The shadow moved quickly, latching onto the dummy with such force that the wooden frame splintered under its grip. Iruka raised an eyebrow, impressed by the precision and intensity of Shikamaru's technique.
"Good work, Shikamaru. That's some solid control," Iruka praised, though he seemed a bit surprised at Shikamaru's focus. "You're usually not this… invested."
Shikamaru forced a lazy smile, shrugging to deflect attention. "It's not that hard… just seemed like a drag to keep failing at it."
Iruka chuckled and moved on, but Shikamaru could feel a faint stirring of something within. Pride? Satisfaction? It felt foreign to him, especially considering he usually wanted nothing more than to avoid attention. But now, he was starting to realize that with the power of his shadows, he could truly distinguish himself—maybe even exceed expectations. And yet, the thrill that came with it made him uneasy.
As the lesson ended and his classmates filed out, Shikamaru lingered behind, watching the fading daylight cast long shadows across the yard. He could feel them waiting, eager to be called upon. They were always there, ready to obey. But something was different now. Zed's influence felt less like an intrusion and more like a part of him, as if he was beginning to understand the deadly potential within.
But would he be able to control it?
That night, as Shikamaru lay in bed, he closed his eyes, hoping for a night of dreamless sleep. Instead, the shadows called him back, pulling him into the depths of his mind, where memories that weren't his own awaited him.
He found himself standing in a strange, dark place, a landscape of jagged rocks and swirling mist. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of iron and the sound of distant, echoing whispers. Before him stood a figure, cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by a metal mask. Zed.
Shikamaru's heart pounded as he stared at the figure, feeling a surge of both fear and familiarity. The figure didn't speak, but the air between them was charged with unspoken words, as though Zed was waiting for Shikamaru to acknowledge him.
"What do you want from me?" Shikamaru demanded, his voice steady despite the tension that ran through him.
Zed didn't answer directly. Instead, he reached out, and the shadows around them twisted and coiled, forming deadly blades that floated in the air, waiting to strike.
"You are strong, Shikamaru," Zed's voice echoed, low and cold. "But strength means nothing without the will to use it."
Shikamaru took a step back, his fists clenched. "I don't want to use it like you did. I don't want to be like you."
The shadowy figure tilted his head, his mask gleaming faintly in the darkness. "It doesn't matter what you want. The power is a part of you, and one day, you will need it. You will have to make a choice—either to wield it fully or let it consume you."
Shikamaru swallowed, feeling a chill run down his spine. He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he knew Zed was right. The shadows weren't just tools he could set aside. They were a part of him now, a part that would demand to be used, one way or another.
"I don't need your advice," he said finally, his voice firm. "I'll find my own way."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Zed's mask glimmered, a faint hint of amusement in his gaze.
"Very well," Zed replied, his voice softer, almost approving. "But remember, Shikamaru… the shadows can be a powerful ally. If you refuse to embrace them, they will find ways to make themselves known."
And with that, the figure faded into the mist, leaving Shikamaru alone in the strange, shadowy landscape.
Shikamaru awoke with a start, the early morning light filtering through his window. His heart was pounding, and he could still feel the weight of Zed's words pressing down on him.
He rose, stretching his arms as he tried to shake off the remnants of the dream. But the memories, the sensations—they lingered, leaving him unsettled. Zed's words echoed in his mind: "The shadows can be a powerful ally."
As he dressed and prepared for the day, Shikamaru glanced at his reflection in the mirror. The shadows around him seemed to pulse faintly, as if waiting for him to make a choice, to decide who he wanted to be. But he was Shikamaru Nara, not Zed. He would carve his own path, no matter how complicated it became.
For now, he would keep the shadows at bay, keeping their power in check. But deep down, he knew that one day, he might have to face them fully—and make a decision that would define him.
The shadow within him was silent, but he could feel it, a quiet reminder that his journey had only just begun.