The shadow she wanted

Shikamaru Nara was a puzzle, one she intended to solve piece by piece. She didn't throw herself at him like the other girls. No, that would be predictable. That would be boring. Instead, she became a constant presence in his world—close enough to be noticed, never enough to be predictable. A lingering figure in his peripheral vision, an echo of a voice in passing conversations. A shadow just out of reach.

She made sure their paths crossed often—always in subtle ways. When he observed a shogi match, she stood close enough to hear, learning the game by osmosis. When he trained in his family's private fields, she took the longer route home to pass by, her movements deliberate and composed, a picture of quiet strength.

And slowly, slowly, she saw it. The brief flickers of curiosity in his dark eyes. The way he hesitated a fraction longer when she spoke. The way he noticed.

Good.

She would not throw herself at him like a fool. She would let him be the one to wonder. To be intrigued. To be drawn into her.

And in the meantime, she would become something this world had never seen before—an elegant, lethal force with one goal in mind.

Not Sasuke. Not Naruto. Not even Hokage yet.

For now, it was Shikamaru Nara.