Shikamaru gave another snort. It was kind of cruel to give a long name to someone so lazy, but after several generations, he figured that his paternal lineage had used up most of the shorter things that could be tacked on to the end of 'shika.' "Maybe," he allowed with a friendly smirk as he sliced a piece of the orangy-brown dessert. He was getting the hang of the eating utensils fairly quickly...really, they made more sense than chopsticks did, despite requiring a bit more coordination.

Luffy's answer wasn't that enlightening, but it was nice to hear something that wasn't gloom and doom, even if it probably ought to be. Shikamaru had already spent a lot of time thinking in the last ten or however many hours, and he had a feeling that he was about to have to do a hell of a lot more. It was nearly impossible to come up with an effective strategy without knowing the limitations of your teammates, and at this point, without chakra, he didn't even know his own. After pushing away his mostly empty plate (towards Luffy, in case the guy wanted more leftovers), he fell back onto his mattress with a quiet but dramatic groan and draped his arm over his face. "Are there other people from your world here?" he asked after a few seconds, moving his arm and turning his head just enough to view his roommate.