A year slipped by faster than Shikamaru expected. The seasons turned, missions came and went, and the day he turned twenty-four arrived under a clear autumn sky. He had not planned a celebration too much trouble but his friends had other ideas.
They gathered at the old Nara compound in the late afternoon, the courtyard strung with simple lanterns that swayed in the breeze. Naruto had insisted on hosting it here, claiming it was "the least draggy spot for a send-off." Tables were set with food mostly barbecue, courtesy of Choji and laughter already filled the air as Shikamaru stepped outside.
They came one by one, each with a gift wrapped in their own way.
Naruto went first, grinning wide as he handed over a small, sealed wooden box. Inside lay a delicate, palm-sized device etched with faint Uzumaki sealing patterns something Kushina had once crafted in secret. Naruto explained quietly, voice softer than usual.
"This let me talk to Mom… even after she was gone. Just once, but it was real. I figured… maybe it could do the same for you. For your parents. If you ever want to try."
Shikamaru stared at the device for a long moment, thumb brushing the seal. He didn't speak right away. Then he gave a small nod.
"Thanks, Naruto."
Sasuke stepped forward next, silent as always. He offered a sheathed katana simple black scabbard, no ornamentation, but the hilt wrapping felt old and well-loved.
"Mother gave this to me before… everything," he said, voice low. "It's nothing special. Just balanced. Sharp. Figured you might need something reliable where you're going."
Shikamaru accepted it with both hands, feeling the weight settle comfortably. He inclined his head in thanks.
Choji came up next, sheepish but beaming, and handed over a thick, well-used cookbook bound in leather.
"For the farm life," he said. "You're gonna need to eat something besides instant ramen. This one's got all the best barbecue rubs and simple veggie dishes. Don't burn the place down, okay?"
Shikamaru snorted softly. "I'll try."
Kiba shoved a small metal can into his hands, grinning like he'd just won a bet.
"Pills," he explained. "Special mix from the Inuzuka clan. One dose, and any animal—wild dog, bear, whatever—calms right down and listens for a few hours. Figured a lone guy in the middle of nowhere might run into some trouble with the local wildlife."
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow but pocketed it without comment.
Sai approached last among the louder group, holding a flat, cloth-wrapped package. When Shikamaru unwrapped it, he found a large ink painting—everyone in their friend circle captured in Sai's clean, precise style. Naruto laughing mid-ramen slurp, Sakura punching a training dummy, Ino arranging flowers, Choji with barbecue sauce on his cheek, even Sasuke looking mildly annoyed in the background. They were all there, frozen in a moment of easy chaos.
"For when you're alone," Sai said simply. "So you remember we're still here."
Shino, quiet until now, placed a small stack of books on the table beside the painting.
"Practical guides," he murmured. "Soil management, crop rotation, basic animal husbandry, weather prediction patterns. And one on entomology, in case insects become an issue. Knowledge is preparation."
Shikamaru looked over the gifts spread before him—the device from Naruto, the katana from Sasuke, the cookbook from Choji, the animal-control pills from Kiba, the painting from Sai, the books from Shino. Each one carried a piece of them, a quiet promise that distance wouldn't erase the bond.
He felt something loosen in his chest gratitude, mostly, but also a strange lightness.
"This is enough," he said, voice low but clear. "More than enough."
Naruto slung an arm around his shoulders, grinning.
"Then let's eat before Choji finishes it all!"
Laughter rose again. Shikamaru let himself be pulled into the crowd, the gifts carefully set aside but never far from reach. Tomorrow he would leave Konoha behind.
Tonight, though, he stayed with the only family he had ever really known.
The celebration had stretched late into the night, laughter and stories lingering until the lanterns burned low. When dawn finally crept over the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and golds, Shikamaru was already packed and ready. His small travel bag hung from one shoulder, the katana from Sasuke strapped across his back, the wooden box from Naruto tucked carefully inside. He had said his goodbyes quietly quick nods, brief words, a few handshakes and one bone-crushing hug from Naruto that left him winded. No long speeches. No tears. Just the promise to write, maybe visit someday.
He walked the familiar path to the village gates alone, footsteps light on the packed earth. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and pine. Konoha slept behind him, peaceful and unaware that one of its own was leaving for good.
At the gates stood a weathered wooden carriage hitched to a pair of sturdy oxen. An old man sat on the driver's bench, gray beard braided loosely, eyes half-closed as if he might doze off at any moment. A faded canvas cover flapped gently in the breeze.
Shikamaru approached, hands in his pockets.
"Morning," he said. "You heading toward Earth Country?"
The old man cracked one eye open, sizing him up slowly.
"Earth Village way, yeah. Got cargo to drop off near the border. You lookin' for a ride?"
Shikamaru nodded. "If you're going that direction. How much?"
"Seventy ryo," the old man replied without hesitation.
Shikamaru's brow twitched. Seventy ryo for a ride in a creaking cart? Highway robbery for anyone who knew the roads. He could walk faster, probably, and save the coin for something useful—like actual food. But the thought of trudging miles alone with his pack and the weight of everything he carried felt… troublesome. More troublesome than the price.
He exhaled through his nose. "Fine. Seventy."
The old man gave a gap-toothed grin and jerked a thumb toward the back of the carriage. "Hop in. We leave now."
Shikamaru climbed up, settling onto a narrow bench among sacks of grain and a few bundled crates. The carriage lurched forward as the old man snapped the reins. The oxen plodded ahead, wheels groaning over the dirt road.
As they passed beneath the great gates of Konoha, Shikamaru turned for one last look.
The village lay bathed in early light: red-tiled roofs, the Hokage Rock looming in the distance, the faint outline of the academy and training grounds. Somewhere in there were Naruto and Hinata's house, Choji's barbecue smoke, Ino's flower shop, all the lives he had watched grow while his own stayed suspended. He felt no regret—only a quiet acceptance. This place had given him everything it could. Now it was time to find what it couldn't.
The gates shrank behind them. The road stretched ahead, winding through trees toward open fields and distant hills.
Shikamaru leaned back against a sack, arms crossed behind his head, and watched the clouds drift overhead—slow, unhurried, the same as always.
"What a drag," he murmured, but the words carried no real weight this time.
For once, they sounded almost like relief.