Chapter Text
There have always been words written on people's skin, what others think about them painting their flesh like an open canvas, free reign. They fade after a few days, replaced by others, but some, depending on how strongly the thinker feels, stay longer. He's still not quite sure how the timing of it all works exactly.
Naruto's noticed it since he was a little kid, always wondered what they were and how they got there, and Teuchi, the kind old man at the ramen stand, is the one who finally explains it to him. He'd already guessed that that was why he had all these words written on him, the rest of the villagers, too, but he didn't know for sure. Of course, how anyone could not notice something like words appearing on their skin as if written with one of the fancy ink brushes the adults and older kids use, he doesn't know.
It's all really interesting, in his opinion – at least, that's how he feels at first. Until he gets a little older and learns to read, learns what all the mean, awful, hateful things on his body say. He's sad and hurt and devastated, not understanding why, what he'd done to make them all hate him so much besides exist. He cries for hours, so much and so hard that he makes himself sick and eventually cries himself to sleep, the cycle repeating for days. He wishes he could unsee them, unread them, wipe them from his memory entirely. He wishes...he wishes a lot of things. The words hurt so much more than all the glares and name-calling and beatings combined. Every one is like a knife to his heart.
It isn't long after that that he starts pranking the villagers. Not because their words on his skin are fading one by one, faster and faster, and he's terrified of being forgotten, of being even more alone than he already is, of being no one to them—though that is part of it. He starts doing it because...at least this way, he has a reason he can name for why they hate him.
Because otherwise...he doesn't have one, and somehow, that's so much worse.
The thoughts littering his skin—monster, trash, demon, unclean, murderer, just die already, and so many more—have never offered any clues (at least none that make sense), and every time he tried to ask someone when he was younger, they'd ignore him, glare at him, whisper about him, or punish him somehow (usually physically, though he's gotten better at evading as he's grown, and he's even faster than some of the adult ninja now!), so he's long stopped trying. He hates how they look at him especially. It's usually while they're doing that that the worst words come, he's found. He just...wants to get their attention off of whatever they hate about him so much by...well, giving them something else about him to hate, something he can control, something he can put a name to for once.
For the first time, really.
Honestly? Even for all the harsh beatings and rude whispers and scornful looks he gets, for all the awful words blanketing his skin like soot, he'll still take it all if it means he's not forgotten, not completely ignored, that his existence is acknowledged.
But one thing Naruto never knew?
How different – good – it would feel to put something nice on someone else's skin.
It's not really something he ever considered before. He just always assumed it didn't work for him, since the words he's thought a thousand times about the villagers – smelly, ugly, mean, rude, unfair, horrible, bastards, shut up, stop looking at me like that, I hate you - never seem to appear on their skin. (Little does he know, they do, just where no one else will see. While getting in or out of the bath or changing clothes, they see the dark words over their hearts, as if karma itself is telling them just how much they're fucking up.)
But this time, it does work, and...Naruto isn't sure how to feel about it.
It happens after school one day, when Naruto's trying to hurry out of class so he misses the older boys who like to chase him home (and beat him up if they catch him).
But he pauses in his rush out the giant Academy doors when he sees Choji Akimichi, a kind, soft-spoken boy who loves to eat, being harassed by some of the other kids in their class. Those other boys are nothing of note, all average or worse students at best, but they act like they're all that, and it pisses Naruto off.
But right now, what's really making him mad is how they're treating Choji.
"Hey, fatty, why don't you come down to the river with us?"
"No way, Kenta, he can't do that! If he jumps in, the whole thing'll be bone dry!"
"Yeah! Plus, he'd just sink like a stone anyway! He probably can't even swim 'cause he's so fat and useless!"
They laugh and smirk and poke fun, but not in a friendly way. Choji keeps his eyes on the ground, curling his books and signature snacks to his chest, and Naruto can tell by the crinkle of his lips and the shine to his eyes that he's barely holding back tears. His knuckles are white as he curls his fists in his schoolbooks, and Naruto can clearly see the way the giant tomes give way underneath his fingers, hear the covers begging for release as his knuckles crack.
Like a switch has flipped inside, Naruto just stares at him as intently as he can, empathetic tears swimming in his eyes, and thinks, Choji's strong as hell, strong as hell, strong as hell!
He must think that for a solid half-minute or so, not even realizing how much time has passed, before there's a sudden shout. Snapping out of it, Naruto tunes back in, and he's surprised and kind of creeped out to find all the boys have been frozen where they stand. For a moment, Naruto's frozen himself. Does—is this an enemy attack or something?!
But then, a black shadow slips from the boys' back to its source – Shikamaru Nara, Choji's best friend, a tiny bit older than Naruto – and Naruto relaxes.
He's seen that jutsu once or twice before, only in demonstrations of the Leaf village clans' signature jutsu, but it's still somehow comforting to know it's a friendly attack. He'll take that any day. Plus, it's Shikamaru, someone who's...confusing to Naruto, but that's only because he doesn't pick on Naruto like the others. Then again, Choji doesn't either, so maybe it's a thing with them. He's never really been sure.
He watches as Shikamaru comes closer, an angry scowl on his face. "You guys better scram like the sissies you are before I do worse than just paralyze you. And since you're such a drag, that's not a threat, it's a promise."
These kids might be dumb, but they're not stupid. They know that pissing off Shikamaru enough to actually motivate him will be the last thing they ever do. Scared shitless, they scramble to get away as he takes a step closer, zooming out the front gate like their lives depend on it (and for all they know, they do).
Naruto releases a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, shoulders sagging with relief, and he sticks around to make sure Choji will be okay. Shikamaru throws his arm around Choji's shoulders the second he's close enough, offering him a tissue and a snack in the same hand, and Choji snort-laughs in delight at that and something he says in tandem.
It makes Naruto smile (and promptly squash the I wish I had a friend like that that springs up in his heart like an invasive weed), the tears he forgot were there smarting in his eyes, and it's only then that he remembers the older kids. Shit! He'll never make it home without being spotted now! Maybe—maybe he can try taking the rooftops again! He's gotten a lot better at not falling lately!
Furiously rubbing at his eyes, he thinks a few more Strong as hells Choji's way as he turns on his heel and bolts off the school grounds, praying he's not too late.
(He doesn't notice Shikamaru watching him curiously, maybe a bit concerned, while Choji blows his nose.)
Shikamaru only notices it once Naruto's gone, but he brings it to Choji's attention right away. "Hey, Choji, look!"
He points at the words spelling out Strong as hell across Choji's left shoulder like a sash of honor and pride.
Choji's mouth drops open, and he lifts his arm higher to see it better, eyes blown open wide. He reads it over and over, smile becoming a beam as the seconds pass, and Shikamaru is just as happy for him. "But who could've thought it, Shikamaru?" He looks around, but doesn't see anyone, at least no one they know well enough for something like this.
Shikamaru hums and offers a few suggestions, just based on things that happened that day. "Well, Shouta did see you lift that huge boulder earlier today so that caterpillar could get across faster. Maybe that was it?"
But Shikamaru was also paying enough attention in gym to at least know that this phrase is new. Way too new. Like…just happened new. Choji says as much, too.
And it could have been coincidence, it could have been that the kid had something in his eyes, that he was watching something behind them all this time—but Shikamaru's not so quick to rule out the most likely possibility when logic tells him it's right on the money. There are too many coincidences in this case.
That said, his guess?
It was Naruto.
The kid paused on his rushing way out of school for some reason, and Shikamaru knows from seeing him after classes that he doesn't usually stop for anything. By the time Shikamaru realized Choji being bullied was the reason, he definitely noticed Naruto staring at Choji like he was thinking really hard, concentrating on something with all his might, and he's almost sure he saw tears in the kid's eyes (he can guess why – he's not an idiot, after all; he's betting it's the same reason Naruto always rushes off after school – and he doesn't like it). Besides, when Shikamaru came up, he absolutely saw Naruto sigh with relief, and it was only after he made sure Choji was going to be okay that he ran off. And it was only after that, or maybe in the tail end of, either way, that...those words appeared on Choji.
Naruto is the only answer that makes any kind of sense in Shikamaru's mind, and if there's anything those ninja tactics books his father makes him read have taught him, it's to trust his gut.
Of course, all that in mind, he doesn't want to tell Choji without some kind of solid proof. After all, while Naruto's never been anything but nice to him and Choji over the years, he's never gone out of his way to put words on them before either. Actually, he's never heard of Naruto putting words on anyone. He just kinda figured it wasn't his thing (and some people in their world are just like that, feeling it too invasive or intimate, and Shikamaru doesn't judge people based on silly things like that).
Glancing back at his best friend, seeing him still staring at the new Strong as hell on his skin like it's the most amazing thing he's ever seen, tracing it with feather-light fingers every few seconds like he's afraid it'll disappear or he'll forget it was ever there if he doesn't, Shikamaru lets his gaze drift to the gate Naruto ran out of.
A soft, appreciative smile lights his face.
He wonders what else that kid's got.