xviii

18.

The number of times Nara Daen met their clan's heiress could be counted in one hand, but it always - always never failed to be entertaining.

The little girl's a menace - a headache and a half for both her parents - and too adorable for her own good that everyone not in the know bend over backward to indulge her whims.

Her napping form beneath one of the village's tree, despite her mother's earlier warning to stay within the Nara clan grounds, was a testament to that.

Daen just got back from a year-long mission - the bills needed to get paid and Konoha couldn't maintain defending their side of the war without a solid source of income. He finished it well-enough with his teammate, but unfortunately, he was injured on the way back in a confrontation with a group of Iwa-nin and was forced to take a leave in order to recuperate.

(And to heal, as Shikaku-sama told him gravely, from the death of a teammate and the permanent disability of another.)

Daen was-

He was skittish, too used to moving in an attempt to get his mind off his failures and deficiencies that he had gotten on his clan head's nerves enough that he was charged with unpaid babysitting-duty for a month.

An order that baffled him at first since it was protocol to isolate an injured shinobi first and let them relax their guard in order to avoid casualties, and even after a week in his home, he's still a bit twitchy. Guarding a toddler - his clan's heiress at that would be a challenge and a half.

Which, after a second thought, he then realized was intentional on his clan head's part since it enabled him to achieve multiple goals in one move. Like, it's a worthwhile activity enough to occupy Daen's time and get his mind off things, while, at the same time, Shikaku-sama got an experienced jounin he trusted to watch his daughter who just recovered from an attack inside the village.

But-

("Are you sure?" He asked hesitantly, after realizing the full extent of the clan head's belief in him.)

(Shikaku-sama looked at him. His face marked with tired lines but his eyes unnervingly sharp. "Why wouldn't I be?")

It was challenging.

Shikari was a precocious child. Any attempt to curb her vivacious spirit was met with rebellion. She listened to her mother well-enough - when it suited her at least, but any order that didn't fit her whims were immediately discarded.

Like her recent penchant for patrolling the village, for one.

Or fetching her playmate Uchiha Itachi, the Uchiha clan's own heir, in their clan compounds despite Fugaku-sama's protests, for another.

In spite of her parents' continued attempt to instill discipline on their daughter, any action met the same end - failure. Shikaku-sama got fed up with it long enough that, Daen learned later, he assigned any recuperating shinobi in their clan to keep an eye on Shikari whenever her official babysitters failed at their job. It's a substitute for therapy, apparently, and no one in the clan was complaining. Her mother, Yoshino, who usually kept her in line was busy helping in the war efforts so the genin and academy students in their compound got assigned to the task.

Daen, after knowing that, initially thought that the kids would slack off and leave him with more work than necessary. He was familiar with his clan's antics - especially since he used to do it himself but, to his surprise, all of them were so gung-ho about it, it left him shocked.

Apparently, as Kasuga confided with him as he panted on the floor of their house's living room, the scolding from the clan head and their parents - not to mention the hellish taijutsu training from a "green-spandexed monster" they were put under every time they lost the heiress was a very good deterrent on failing to do the job.

Unfortunately for them-

Shikari was exceptional at escaping their clutches.

Daen's on the mission for two weeks now and he bore witness to the aftermath of the heiress sneaking out for exactly ten times.

The few times that they did manage to keep an eye out for Shikari, she was either humoring them as they tried to teach her basic ninja techniques or beating them up as a form of amusement.

It wasn't very pretty.

The kids eventually got tired of getting their pride stomped on by a three-year-old kid and well-

The last he saw them, Daen saw blueprints.

He wasn't kidding. It had plans that had contingency plans for contingency plans.

They were getting desperate.

The last taijutsu exercise from the loud chuunin Shikaku-sama picked up somewhere must have pushed them to the brink so much that Daen swore they made history.

Daen honestly never seen a group of Naras - children at that - that motivated outside of war, in all his life.

(In fact, he still couldn't quite believe it until now. It's too unnatural that his brain couldn't quite- wouldn't really, if he was being honest - compute.)

Not that any of their schemes seemed to have worked really if the heiress's satisfied yawning below him was any indication.

He shook his head at the sight in amusement.

They said a motivated Nara was something to fear - a sight to behold and, Daen mused, it was. They're vindictive, despite their sleepy countenance, with the stubbornness of a mule to boot. Like a starving dog with a bone, some would say, with all the patience and intelligence of a hunter that knew how to wait in order to get their kill.

Too bad, Daen thought to himself as he leaned on one of the trees not far from where the heiress was, their adversary's also a Nara - the best they had or would have, by the looks of it - and that made all the difference.

Shikari was a genius. One wouldn't know it if they weren't looking closely since the heiress, as he described her before, was precocious and that characteristic often took any attention on her intellect away, but it was there. The real deal. In a clan known for its intellect and exceptionally strategic mind, the title wasn't something to be thrown around lightly. It was evident in how easily she got better out of children twice her age. How strong she was. How her eyes glinted sometimes in the light - too mature, too jaded than anyone of her age should have any right to be.

Despite these notable observations, however, there were still people in the clan that wasn't quite sure if she truly belonged.

It wasn't loud. Just whispers, here and there, but enough that Daen knew of it.

The heiress took after her mother, you see, a real beauty that one was and if it weren't for her distinctive Nara eyes, the whispers of how unnatural she was - how she didn't fit within the clan would be louder and more raucous.

She was too energetic, some would titter. Too violent - too much yang in a clan that placed much value in yin. Conducting patrols left and right? What clan does she think she belonged to? Uchiha? She lacked subtlety - a trait that every Nara worth their salt learned even at a young age, a few murmured quietly to themselves when the clan-head or his wife wasn't in view.

But, Daen-

Daen staunchly believed that she was more Nara than some of their clan would think.

The heiress was just a child. A child, Kami, not even out of her toddler years. Whispers like these were probably brought on by their irritation for the continuous beating they were subjected to under Shikari's reign around the clan compound, the sordid story of how Shikaku-sama abandoned his fiancee to marry a non-clan member, as well as their need to get their mind off the war and the losses they incurred.

Nothing he could fault them for but something he couldn't help but judge, regardless.

Besides, Daen sighed watching as an Aburame about a year older or two than Shikari approach the tree she was napping in slowly, it would blow over soon enough, because if Shikari's previous watchers were to be asked if the heiress was a true Nara, he was quite sure they would agree with him.

After all, for the little time that he watched her, Shikari was, yes, oddly if not effectively attempting to discipline the "herbivores" she came across, but more than that Daen noticed that there was a pattern to the madness.

She was finding optimal napping places, believe it or not.

It was all she did all these past days, discounting the times she would fetch her minions or cuddle with the puppy she filched from the Inuzuka clan. She would find spots where the sun hit her just right, the shade protects her perfectly and then stretch down to sleep like an overly contented fat cat.

And if that didn't scream Nara then he didn't know what would.