Shikamaru had always thought of himself as someone above distractions.
He enjoyed his quiet life, his predictable routines. He avoided unnecessary conflict, unnecessary emotions, unnecessary people.
But lately, one person had started disrupting the quiet order of his thoughts.
Sakura.
And the worst part?
She wasn't even doing anything.
She moved through life with a quiet kind of confidence, her presence subtle yet impossible to ignore. He had seen people gravitate toward her—not because she sought their attention, but because something about her demanded it.
It was frustrating.
It was troublesome.
And today, for the first time, it became something worse.
It became infuriating.
---
The Spark of Something Dangerous
It started in the middle of weapons training.
The academy had partnered them up randomly, and for once, Sakura wasn't paired with him. Instead, she was sparring with a boy from another class—one of the older students, a cocky idiot named Daichi.
Shikamaru hadn't thought much of it.
At first.
But then, as he watched their match, something about it started to bother him.
Daichi was flirting.
It wasn't obvious—not to the instructors, not even to most of the other students. But Shikamaru saw it. The way Daichi leaned in just a little too much. The way he commented on Sakura's form, not just with critique, but with praise.
And worst of all?
Sakura wasn't reacting.
She wasn't encouraging it, but she wasn't shutting it down either. She just moved, fluid and focused, as if Daichi was nothing more than a means to an end.
Shikamaru's fingers curled into fists at his sides.
What was this feeling?
It wasn't annoyance—annoyance was his mother nagging him about chores.
This was something else.
Something sharper.
Something dangerous.
---
A Test of Control
Sakura had noticed, of course.
She had felt the weight of Shikamaru's gaze from the start.
This was a test. A carefully placed moment to see just how far she had pushed him.
And she had her answer.
When the match ended, she felt him move.
Before she could even step away from the sparring circle, Shikamaru was suddenly there, standing at her side. Not saying anything. Just standing too close.
His presence was a quiet warning.
And then, Daichi—oblivious to the sudden tension—smirked at her.
"You're impressive, Sakura," he said, stretching his arms. "I wouldn't mind training with you again sometime."
Shikamaru spoke before she could.
"She's busy."
The words were flat. Unemotional.
But the weight behind them was unmistakable.
Daichi blinked, surprised. "Huh?"
Shikamaru's gaze was steady. Calm. But his body was unnaturally still, his usual laziness absent.
"She doesn't have time for distractions." His voice was casual, but something lurked beneath it. Something cold. "Find someone else."
Sakura allowed a slow, amused smile to curl at the edges of her lips.
There it is.
The first, undeniable sign of possessiveness.
Daichi, sensing something he couldn't quite name, raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. No need to be weird about it."
He walked off.
And Shikamaru—without looking at her, without saying another word—turned and left, hands stuffed into his pockets.
But Sakura saw the tension in his shoulders.
The stiffness in his steps.
She had won.
---
The Shadow's Frustration
Shikamaru didn't go home after the academy that day.
Instead, he found himself wandering through the quieter training fields, hands still shoved deep in his pockets, mind racing.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He wasn't jealous. That was stupid.
Sakura wasn't his. She wasn't anyone's.
And yet…
And yet, the thought of someone else trying to claim even the smallest piece of her—
Unacceptable.
His jaw clenched.
He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his movements.
What the hell is she doing to me?
---
Sakura's Perspective: The Trap Tightens
She had felt it.
The crack in his self-control. The first unraveling of his carefully composed logic.
This was the moment she had been waiting for.
Possessiveness wasn't instant—it was a slow, creeping thing. It had to be nurtured, fed in careful increments until it owned him.
And now, she had proof.
Shikamaru Nara was beginning to see her as his.
Not fully. Not yet.
But the foundation had been laid.
And she would continue to pull him deeper, inch by inch, step by step—
Until he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else standing where he stood.
Until the very idea of her belonging to someone else was intolerable.
Sakura allowed herself one small, satisfied breath before she resumed training.
The real fun was just beginning.