**Chapter 2: The Reluctant Player**
The morning sun filtered through the thin paper shoji screens of Shikamaru's room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The room was modest, with tatami mats covering the floor and a low wooden desk cluttered with scattered shogi pieces, a half-finished puzzle, and a crumpled career form. A single bookshelf stood in the corner, its shelves lined with dusty books on strategy, history, and a few manga volumes. The walls were bare except for a faded scroll depicting a deer, the Nara clan's symbol, its antlers branching like shadows.
Shikamaru lay sprawled on his futon, one arm dangling off the edge, his dark hair a messy tangle against the pillow. His face, though still boyish at ten, carried a hint of sharpness in his features—narrow eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and a perpetually bored expression. He groaned as the sunlight hit his face, turning his head away and pulling the blanket over his head. "What a drag," he muttered, his voice muffled.
Just as he was about to drift back to sleep, a bright blue holographic screen flickered into existence before his eyes.
[GOOD MORNING, PLAYER SHIKAMARU NARA.]
[DAILY TASKS AWAIT.]
Shikamaru blinked, his brow furrowing as he sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes, half-expecting the screen to disappear, but it remained stubbornly in place. "What the…?" he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance.
The screen pulsed, and a list of tasks appeared:
[DAILY TASKS:
1. 50 PUSH-UPS
2. 5-KILOMETER RUN
3. SHADOW MANIPULATION PRACTICE]
Shikamaru stared at the screen, his expression flat. "So, yesterday wasn't a dream," he said, more to himself than anyone else. He scratched the back of his head, his hair sticking up in odd directions. "What a pain. Who said I was interested in these tasks anyway?"
As if in response, the screen flashed red, and a warning message appeared:
[WARNING: FAILURE TO COMPLETE DAILY TASKS WILL RESULT IN PENALTIES.]
Shikamaru sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He swung his legs off the futon and stood, stretching lazily. His uniform—a black gakuran with the school emblem on the chest—hung loosely on his frame, the sleeves slightly too long. He grabbed his bag from the corner of the room, slinging it over his shoulder, and glanced at the career form still lying on his desk. The words "Sakurajima High School for Literature" were scrawled in his messy handwriting.
"Guess that's my easy way out," he muttered, turning away from the desk and heading for the door.
---
The Nara household was quiet, save for the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen. Shikamaru slid open the door to his room and stepped into the hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly under his feet. The scent of miso soup and grilled fish wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest outside.
In the kitchen, Yoshino was already bustling about, her shadow flickering as it reached for spices on a high shelf. Shikaku sat at the low dining table, a cup of coffee in his hands, steam curling up into the air. His calm, observant eyes glanced up as Shikamaru entered.
"Morning," Shikaku said, taking a sip of his coffee.
Shikamaru grunted in response, slumping into a seat at the table. He glanced toward the hallway, where Heiki's door was still closed. "Does every college student really need to go through this lazy phase?" he asked, his tone dry.
Shikaku chuckled, setting his cup down. "I trust Heiki. He'll find his place in society."
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. "Isn't the main reason our entire clan lives isolated from society? I mean, even my middle school is an hour's walk away in the middle of nowhere."
Shikaku's eyes softened as he gazed at his reflection in the coffee, the steam rising like a veil. "This is better for us," he said quietly. "That hero society… it doesn't seem stable to me. It'll collapse one day."
Shikamaru didn't respond, instead turning his attention to the breakfast Yoshino placed in front of him. As he ate, Shikaku asked, "So, have you decided on a high school?"
"Sakurajima High School for Literature," Shikamaru replied between bites.
Shikaku laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "The easiest choice, huh?"
Yoshino sighed, her hands on her hips. "Shikamaru, you have a brilliant mind. Why do you keep wasting it on procrastination and laziness?"
Shikamaru shrugged, finishing his meal. "I'm just saving my energy for when it's necessary," he said, standing and grabbing his bag.
As he headed for the door, Shikaku called after him, "You really live up to your name, don't you, 'Lazy One'?"
Shikamaru didn't look back, but a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
---
Outside, the countryside stretched endlessly, a sea of green under a clear blue sky. The wind rustled through the tall grass, carrying the scent of earth and wildflowers. Shikamaru walked along the dirt path, his black uniform blending with the shadows of the trees. His hair, though messy, caught the sunlight, giving it a faint sheen. His calm, almost sleepy eyes scanned the horizon, lingering on the clouds drifting lazily across the sky.
The world around him was peaceful, untouched by the chaos of hero society. For a moment, Shikamaru allowed himself to enjoy the quiet, the weight of the system's tasks momentarily forgotten.