—{Konoha}—

Shikamaru and Temari had finally gotten married. Temari was three years older than him, but Shikamaru had been smitten with her since their younger days.

They now had a son together. Shikamaru was a proud father, though he preferred to brag about his son in subtle, almost hidden ways—smirking whenever someone noticed.

He was far less strict than Temari when it came to their child. Shikadai could be stubborn, much like his mother, but Shikamaru personally didn’t see the need for a smack on the head every time.

At three years old, Shikadai was still very much a toddler. He hadn’t started practicing ninjutsu yet, and his energy filled the house with constant little bursts of life.

⸻

—{Living Room Floor}—

Shikamaru had been watching Shikadai while Temari wasn’t home, but the warmth of the sun streaming through the windows and the quiet of the house had lulled him into a nap.

He sprawled on the floor, ponytail tousled, snoring softly as he relaxed into the carpet.

Shikadai crawled over and nestled into his father’s arms, soon drifting off to sleep as well. Their small bodies pressed together in a comfortable, lazy heap.

It wasn’t until Shikadai stirred awake and spotted his mother at the doorway that he blinked sleepily and exclaimed:

Shikadai: “Dad…! Mom’s home…!”

He poked his father’s face with a tiny hand, his voice still thick with sleep.

Shikamaru groaned softly, ruffling his messy hair and sitting up slowly, eyes half-lidded.

Shikamaru: “Hmm…? Oh, she’s here already, huh?”

Shikadai yawned and leaned against him, their hair equally tousled from their nap. Shikamaru’s smirk returned as he noticed the little resemblance between father and son, and the warmth in the room made him quietly thankful for this simple, lazy afternoon.