[Summary: Temari found an old baby video of Shikadai and forced him to watch it with her.]

"I'm home," Shikadai called out as the front door slammed shut behind him.

No one greeted him back. His eyebrow arched at his mom's lack of presence at his arrival. She would usually be waiting for him by the door around the time he came home from the academy.

Tired from another gruelingly boring day of staring at his textbooks and shuriken practice, Shikadai contemplated on taking a nap for the rest of the afternoon, before his ears picked up the sound of the television.

He dragged his feet forward and stopped at the doorway connecting the living room and hall.

"Mom?"

He immediately spotted her blonde hair sticking out from over the couch. He couldn't see her face, but the television blared in front of her, showing a picture of a toddler with dark hair crawling on all fours. His eyes were bright green and curious as he stared at the camera, his tiny arm half-raised as if he was trying to reach out and touch it.

It took Shikadai a second to realize he was staring at his own baby video.

"Oh, welcome back. I didn't hear you come in." Temari flashed him a smile from over her shoulder.

"What're you doing?" His eyes flickered between her and the television, silently asking for an explanation.

"I was clearing the attic when I found this." She gestured to the screen, where baby Shikadai was gurgling happily at the camera. "I figured it would be fun to watch."

He blinked at her once. And then twice. Then he strung out a brisk, "Have fun." before turning his back for a quick escape.

"Stop right there." Temari's commanding voice halted him in his tracks. "Come here and watch it with me."

Shikadai cursed his inability to disobey his mother, as he sullenly took a seat next to her. He slowly lifted his eyes and immediately winced. His younger self had a wide smile on his face, as he crawled closer to the camera. He could hear his mom's breathless voice in the background, urging his dad to grab more toys for him. Seeing himself on TV was both unnerving and embarrassing. He could hardly believe he was the same person as the toddler producing incomprehensible baby sounds at the other end of the screen.

He stole a quick peek at his mom while she wasn't looking. A huge smile splayed across her face as she immersed herself in the video.

"Shikadai~" Startled, he turned his attention back to the screen when Temari's recorded voice echoed around the room. In the video, her outstretched hand revealed a familiar toy. It was the stuffed deer he had cherished up until he became more interested in books and video games. She gave it a small shake, causing baby Shikadai's eyes to follow the movement faithfully, almost as if he was in a trance.

When he grabbed the deer with his tiny fingers and hugged it to his chest, Temari let out a triumphant yelp. "See, I told you he would love it."

"How troublesome." This time, his dad's deep voice penetrated the record. The camera jostled a bit when his big hand appeared on screen to pat Shikadai's small head.

His raised his eyes almost questioningly, opened and closed his mouth a few times, before a hesitant "….um…" escaped his lips.

There was a few seconds of shocked silence before Temari excitedly cried out, "His first words! Do you think he's trying to say 'mom'?"

"Isn't he still a bit too young for that?" Came Shikamaru's answer, yet a hint of excitement dripped from his otherwise calm voice.

"Go on, Shikadai. Call me mum."

Shikadai's face scrunched in concentration, his tiny fingers tightening around his toy. He made a sound with his throat as he struggled to form a word.

"…sum…trubwlsum…"

Shikadai's wide eyes stared straight into the camera, head tilted in wonder, as the recording became engulfed in deafening silence.

"T-Temari, I can explain…" Shikamaru nervously spoke up. The volume of his voice seemed to dwindle a bit after every word, and Shikadai could imagine him slowly backing away from the camera.

"Shi-ka-ma-ru!" Temari's enraged voice rang in his ears. Shikadai listened to the sound of hasty footsteps until it completely faded—his dad must've broke into a run. Temari let the recorder fall as she made a move to chase after her husband. The sound of Shikadai's surprised wail filled the room before the recorder clicked shut.

Beside him, Temari chuckled as the screen turned black. "I scolded your father for the rest of the day after that incident. Unbelievable, that man! I told him not to say that word in front of you, but of course he didn't listen."

Shikadai had listened to various versions of the same story throughout the years, and his mother never lost the zeal of letting him know how infuriated she was. She spoke big, but her eyes twinkled every time she relayed the story, along with a permanent grin etched on her face. Ten years as their child and he knew all about his parents' dynamic—they often bickered to cover up the affection they have for each other.

Shikadai could gag.

"I'll be taking a nap." He removed himself from the couch and exited the living room

Temari called out after him, "What about your homework?"

"I'll do those troublesome stuff after dinner," he answered back, one foot already on the staircase.

"I swear, you're a bit too much like your father sometimes…" He heard her mutter before he went out of earshot.

Shikadai entered his room and immediately jumped into bed, his mind whirring from Temari's words. 'You're so much like your father' was a phrase he regularly heard while he was growing up. Most people told him he took after his father physically—which he could understand considering he was the mirror image of Shikamaru down to how he wore his hair; the only obvious difference between them was the striking teal eyes he got from his mother.

But as far as he could tell, that was where their similarities end.

His father was the respected advisor of the seventh Hokage, the village's second-in-command, and a brilliant strategist who survived the fourth shinobi world war.

Growing up in Shikamaru's shadow was difficult for Shikadai; everyone expected great things from him. He always had to keep himself in check; since he was prepping to become the next heir of the Nara Clan, he couldn't afford to mess up. He refused to let his dad lose face because of him. On the surface, he was a carefree academy student who couldn't care less about his studies. Classes were a drag—it would be so much easier to sleep through the day and refuse to take exams—yet Shikadai would still find himself reaching for his textbooks and pencil during lessons, do his homework every night, and ace all his exams.

If he was being honest with himself, the hard work and effort he usually masked stemmed from the innate desire not to disappoint his dad. Sure, his mom would nag him to death if he didn't perform well. Shikadai wouldn't lie and say he wasn't scared of Temari's wrath. But this was more than his fear and greater than his lazy nature—

His dad was rarely home.

It wasn't something Shikadai blamed him for. Shikamaru's job required long hours in the office; he would be gone by dawn and come back late into the night. Shikadai seldomly saw him, except during his rare day offs. He knew his dad would always make an effort to come home earlier for his family, but some things don't always go your way. Before long it became the norm to eat dinner without him or go to bed without seeing him the entire day. When he was younger, his mom would pull him aside to explain why he couldn't see his dad regularly. She always wore a forlorn expression as she spoke, but rather than feeling disheartened Shikadai somehow understood.

Shikamaru was the right-hand man of the Hokage; he had an entire village to worry about. But he always made extra efforts to spend time with him whenever he could. Some nights, Shikadai would suddenly wake up in the middle of the night to find his dad beside his bed, rubbing his head as he bided him good night. It happened often enough that Shikadai would purposely stay awake to wait for his dad's late greeting. That's why, despite Shikamaru's hectic schedule, Shikadai knew he regarded them as a priority.

And with all the pressure and expectations of the villagers riding on his shoulders, Shikadai didn't want to add to the weight. That's why he'll continue to be a good student and son and work harder to become a ninja his dad would be proud of.

At the end of the day, he respected Shikamaru too much to let him down.

Reaching the end of his thoughts, Shikadai felt his eyes grow heavier until darkness consumed him.

—

Shikadai felt a familiar touch on his head when his eyes cracked open. His room was dark; the only light shining in through the window came from the moon. Sitting beside him, with gentle eyes looking over him, was Shikamaru.

"Dad?" His voice came out as a croak. He blinked a few times in disbelief, as if the shadow of his dad would disappear any second.

Shikamaru gave him a small smile. "Hey, kiddo. Your mom told me to call you up for dinner."

"Dinner?" Shikadai pulled himself into a sitting position. "That means…you're home early."

His dad nodded. "There was less work today, so Naruto told me he would take care of everything else."

"Cool."

Shikamaru searched his face. "How was your day? Your mom told me she found your old baby video."

He shrugged lightly. "Eh. It was a bit of a drag, but I guess it wasn't too bad. She'll never let either of us live it down though…troublesome."

His dad chuckled as he nervously ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I should apologize for being a bad influence on you. I didn't expect you to copy me."

"You're not a bad influence," he said too quickly and then cleared his throat. "I mean…I wouldn't be the way I am without you."

A tender smile broke through Shikamaru's face as he ruffled his hair. "You could be nothing like me and I'd still be proud of you, son."

The extra weight on his bed was taken away when his dad stood up. "Now, c'mon. Let's have dinner. If we eat fast enough, maybe we can play a few rounds of shogi. Didn't you want a rematch after the last time?"

Shikadai eagerly followed him out of the room, already brimming with excitement for the night ahead.