#i was fighting demons trying to draw temari's hair

[dankld]

manga panel redraws of some naruto faves + sand siblings

+ close ups

[tifacatsblog]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari Characters: Nara Shikamaru, Temari (Naruto), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Emotional Whump, Whumptober 2021, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Suna and Konoha at war, you know the rest, Major character death - Freeform, but in a soft way, offscreen major character death Summary:

Two kilometers or so east of the camp lay a border. Just outside of the line of trees that define the changing of climate. A long line of barbed wire on sand, more of a formality than a defense; any genin could easily jump over them. But Suna’s real defense lay on the desert, waiting for fresh meat who can’t differentiate dunes from seal traps. 

This border was a warning, a finish and a start line simultaneously.

Glancing above the barbed wire, Temari found what she came here for.

What kind of soldier hates war?

Temari is a shinobi, in her job description there’s lying, kidnapping, maiming, torturing, spying, fighting, and even killing.

Well, perhaps mainly killing.

Point still stands; she is a shinobi and her job is not the kind of job you can be at peace about. Every training is a war against death, as you will be dead if you’re not good at what you do. Every killing is a war against morality, should you hesitate even for a second you risk yourself losing the courage to do it. Every mission she takes, every movement she makes, every breath she takes as a shinobi is a form of war, one way or another.

Her objective in said wars was, mostly, to survive.

(To survive a childhood without friends, to survive an assassin sent to kill her in the night of her tenth birthday, to survive an enemy nin’s kunai aimed at her throat, to survive the threat of being killed accidentally by her little bro-)

This war is no different.

Suna, after that disastrous chunin exam’s failed invasion had begun to make amends with Konoha. It was a process that Temari herself pioneered and supervised, young as she was, to make sure that none of that shit with the Fourth Kazekage and Orochimaru ever happened again, a notion that her brothers (and surprisingly a good chunk of Suna’s forces) agreed to. Suna went on rescue and aid missions assigned by the Fifth Hokage, built a better trade with Konoha, and signed a new peace and alliance treaty with said village.

All of which was done by either Temari’s or her sibling’s hand.

And all of which was for naught.

It started with the debate on who should be the next Kazekage. As Suna’s governance is less of Konoha’s meritocracy and more straight up a hereditary monarchy, the candidates were three teenagers with anger issues and too many killing counts to be comfortably discussed over meal, even for shinobi. Temari was the oldest, with a sharp strategic mind and more diplomacy experience on her hand. Kankurou has more solo mission experience on his hand, and let's face it, the one who actually has a better reputation (compared with The Cruelest Kunoichi and The Shuukaku Monster). Gaara of course, is the powerhouse and the true ‘weapon’ of Sunagakure, and If Temari was allowed to voice her assessment, a stubborn idiot who’s trying to change ways and is now perhaps, more human than Temari ever was. He’s trying to be kind, to be hopeful, to be soft in a way they never know how.

After all the shit Suna went through because Rasa decided to put being shinobi above being human, being Kazekage over being a father, Temari thinks it should be clear who should be the next Kazekage.

Apparently it wasn’t clear for some people.

Civil war broke out, a thing that every hidden village dread, as shown from Konoha’s Madara Uchiha to the situation in Kiri right now. Many things could be the spark that lead to a civil war; a disagreement, a void of power, and especially a disagreement on who should fill the void of power. There were two factions, the one who supported Gaara as Kazekage, and the one who wanted their head on the stake.

Well, perhaps that’s oversimplifying, they deemed The Kazekage clan as it is now has failed to protect Suna and they are demanding power to the people so that Suna may see a brighter future.

…and their head on the stake.

…and another military family on the Kazekage seat.

…said family is known to be power hungry in elite circles.

(Hungry for power in a way that could very well end their world, as is common for shinobi, such greed for power that made them, who came from a family that choose to seal a demon in a child with unstable seal for power, genuinely concerned)

So, war for her and her family’s survival, no big deal right? Right, no big deal. They’ve won, Gaara is on his seat on the Kazekage tower. Temari and Kankurou are his advisor slash right hand slash ambassador slash anything he needed them to be.

Except that when there’s rotten flesh there’s a pack of vultures, ready to feast.

Power over trust, land over alliance, money over peace.

Konoha has a new Daimyo, and this one is ambitious.

Thus the fourth shinobi war broke out.

This time, Suna is the prize.

(Turns out, Gaara needed them to be war generals.

When one shark bite, the blood will draw the other in.

Iwagakure joined the war a few months ago.

The other will be close behind.)

“How are things on the northern border?” Temari asked, finishing her morning ration and standing from the commander table. The tent they were in was worse to wear, but Temari was glad she could sleep in the command tent alone, and not having to share her space with five other jounin.

“Earth’s forces are admirable, but our defense still holds strong,” Her second in command, a kunoichi in her early thirties named Chisaki, said, “Kankurou-sama’s report arrived yesterday, after you went to bed. It states that we should not worry about any breaches on his side of the border,” she finished.

“And?”

“…And I quote ‘Worry about your own damn job Temari, you’re not my mom.’”

That earned a smirk from her, “Son of a bitch,” she glanced at the other shinobi, “And for the record I was calling my father a bitch, not my mom.”

Chisaki, in a show of true professionalism, doesn’t even bat an eye on Temari’s blatant disrespect of the late Kazekage.

(Or maybe, she was too used to Temari’s rant of how The Fourth was a loser who could totally do better and he was a jerk, and he was such a controlling, egoistical piece of sh-)

Temari goes out of the tent, the sun has yet to rise, everything is still and dark.

Chisaki doesn’t follow.

Temari is so glad her second in command doesn’t ask questions and trusts her so completely.

In an hour she has to make morning rounds, she has to make sure their defense is at their best, the soldiers (Are we soldiers? We weren’t supposed to be soldiers. Were we?) fed and ready, their weapons polished and deadly.

In an hour she has to be a general of war again, but for now-

Two kilometers or so east of the camp lay a border. Just outside of the line of trees that define the changing of climate. A long line of barbed wire on sand, more of a formality than a defense; any genin could easily jump over them. But Suna’s real defense lay on the desert, waiting for fresh meat who can’t differentiate dunes from seal traps. 

This border was a warning, a finish and a start line simultaneously.

Glancing above the barbed wire, Temari found what she came here for.

Dark eyes watching her sharply from the top of a branch. Green flak jacket, black shirt and trouser, staple of Konoha's basic gear. Long hair tied in a ponytail.

She used to make fun of that ponytail.

(She used to card her hand through it, when he's agreeable and not shy enough to try to evade. She used to say that she uses his hair as training exercises for braiding, lest a mission requires a kunoichi to be able to braid a really troublesome and lazy chunin's hair. She used to marvel at how soft it was, and how such an act filled her with a warm, bubbly feeling.)

She used to nag him to wear proper attire,

("You don't even look like a chunin, and what's this mesh shirt going to protect? Not you, that's the answer." 

"Says the woman who wears kimonos to battle."

"Excuse you-")

She used to-

They used to.

(There was a they once upon a time. 

Temari used to think that given time they could be something more. Maybe he would finally find the courage to ask her for dinner instead of working so ineffectively she was forced to pull an all nighter with him to meet deadlines, maybe she will finally snap and grab his hand to lead him instead of his shirt and then keep holding it even if it would be inconvenient, maybe on one of their diplomatic meeting they will finally meet each other's eyes instead of stealing glances-

Maybe given enough time, she could lov-)

They used to banter, snipping remarks over snarky ones, having fun with harmless verbal battles.

Now they mostly stand in silence, five hundreds meters apart, barely able to discern the other in such dim light.

Neither of them is going to talk, neither of them is going to even move or make some kind of microexpression. One knows the other too well. Being any other than stone might as well be a traitorous act for their own homeland; it would mean divulging information to the enemy.

Neither of them is going to stop coming here either.

This is a breach in their defense, both Konoha and Suna can make use of this and strike the other.

(Neither of them is going to say anything either.)

These days Temari usually fills their dialogue in her head. Like an actress reading from a script, practicing in front of the mirror. Desperately trying to imagine the other actor's voice so that her own act might seem real.

I will kill you, Temari, brash as ever, would say.

Wow, not even a hello? He would answer, snarky.

I know your weakness, She would insist,  I have fought you in the chunin exam once, I have fought you in sparring sessions countless times. I know your strength, your strategy, I know how you think, I know you and your weakness.

It would be Illogical for anyone else but me to kill you.

Counterpoint, he would say, as you have fought me, I have fought you. Everything you have said might be true but so does the other way around; I know you too.

Do you? She would ask, her lips would be set in a line and her eyebrow would be lifted, If you truly know me then you know why I am willing and capable of killing you.

He would be quiet for a minute, and then; I can assure you I can kill you too.

Perhaps, She would cast her gaze away, pretending to mulling it over, and then she would shift her gaze, sharp as a cheetah zoning on a gazelle in the savanna, and she would ask, But would you?

And, as said question would trigger the same reaction he has when confronted with his emotions ever, he would stay silent. And she would fill in for him; No, you wouldn't.

How would you know, I haven't exactly tried. He would half-heartedly rebuke.

And, because this is a totally hypothetical situation in which she is allowed to do anything, she would walk towards said barbed wire, closing in on the no man's land, and she would say, There, you didn't kill me.

A single person, not even crossing the border line is not a threat. He would say, I am not obligated to kill you.

Do not invalidate my strength just to cover your own weakness! She would snarl, she would grab the wires out of emotions and her hands would bleed. You know damn well I can level this forest in a second if I wanted to. I could kill you and all of your friends and your parents and your teacher and everyone else behind this blasted wire if needed. I could, I would, I will. 

There's a reason I'm named The Cruelest Kunoichi. You haven't met her yet.

He would stay silent throughout her rant, and even after that. She would continue, out of spite.

Konoha's propaganda, she would spat, has always been reliant on a bond to the people inside of the village. Will of fire, empathy, solidarity, whatever you want to say.

I'll tell you why you wouldn't kill me. She would whisper with a concealed rage.

Because I am your weakness.

And then she would turn around and leave him to stand there alone, stewing on her words.

Except of course that didn't happen.

In reality it was forty five minutes of silence with both of them just standing there, watching each other. Forty five minutes of not talking and filling the silence with an imaginary fight in her head. Forty five minutes of the sun slowly rising up and warming everything around them except themselves. 

(How could anything warm the heart of a killer? Especially if you're the one supposed to kill the one you lo-)

Forty five minutes before Shikamaru's face suddenly crumpled in grief and he all but ran away from his spot, to the darkness and safety of the forest.

Forty five and one minute later realization and dread filled Temari's chest.

(One knows the other too well. Being any other than stone might as well be a traitorous act for their own homeland; it would mean divulging information to the enemy-)

Konoha will attack soon.

(I could, I would, I will. )

.

“What kind of soldier hates war Shikamaru?” She would ask, four to five minutes from blacking out from blood loss, or perhaps something more permanent; severed femoral artery and ruptured spleen would do that. Fair, he has always said that she needs to cover her left side.

“The good kind.” He would answer, crying.

What a crybaby.

[jouissezduprintemps]

Something to Gain, Chapter Seven: Rasa’s Daughter

Rating: T Words: 3052 Fandom: Naruto Summary: Sequel to Something to Prove. Shikamaru and Temari navigate their relationship now that it’s in the public eye.

Something to Prove   First     Previous      Next

Kankuro stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked down the empty corridor, on his way to his brother’s office. Evening had fallen, and the building was mostly empty at this time of day. Gaara was always the first to arrive and the last to leave; Kankuro had come to remind him that he needed to eat and suggest that he join the rest of his family to do so. In the dimly-lit passage, he grew too comfortable in the relative silence. He was startled when a voice shouted, shaking through the building.

“Damn it, Joseki!” Tojuro shouted, slamming his hands down on his colleague’s desk. “We gave you your two days. Baki is the only council member who agrees with you. Rasa would never stand for this!”

“Rasa is dead.”

“And we have a demon ruling in his place! You think this is stability?!”

Kankuro hid himself inside one of the darkened alcoves that littered the hallway. Once displays for Suna’s treasures, they had long since been abandoned in favor of proper storage. At the moment, they were perfect to conceal himself from sight. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Tojuro was far too bold if he was voicing such opinions.

“Careful, Tojuro,” Joseki’s voice remained calm and even. “The wrong person might hear and accuse you of treason.”

“Right. Rasa’s daughter goes and makes herself a Konoha whore, but I’m the one committing treason,” Tojuro spat.

“Get out of my office.” The next word was a growl. “Now.”

Tojuro stormed through the door, slamming it hard enough to rattle the wall. Kankuro remained concealed. A quick series of hand signs produced a clone, which he sent to follow the loud-mouthed councilman. He needed to report to Gaara, and quickly. If Tojuro was indeed their information leak, he was likely to slip up when his anger ran high. After a few seconds, when he could be sure that Joseki wouldn’t leave his office, Kankuro hurried down the hallway as quietly as possible.

“I don’t need to practice. I know what I’m going to say.” Temari ran a comb through her hair as she spoke. “Besides, none of it really matters. Once Gaara finds the leak, he’ll come forward with how all of this was planned. Those councilmen can shove their walking sticks back up their asses and get on with their lives.”

“See, when you say things like that, it makes me think you should give it another run-through.” Shikamaru’s eyes scanned the paper in his hand, moving over the outline that he, Temari, and Gaara had agreed upon.

“I’m just tired,” Temari explained as she turned the knob on the sink, letting cold water run through the pipes. “I’ve talked more to people in the last few days than I do in a year. That’s a lot for me.”

Shikamaru hummed his acknowledgement, listening as she splashed her face. After a moment, he looked up and admitted, “I’m worried that we don’t have any solid leads.”

“We’ll have Ino’s sensory skills in the council chamber with us. If anyone reacts, we’ll know. Kankuro will be watching the village from the aviary; Choji is going to patrol the kazekage building, where we’ll be. Baki is going to lead a training exercise for the guard as an excuse to keep watch over the gates. If they show themselves, they won’t have a chance. I imagine they’ll assume I can’t, or won’t, fight because they think I’m pregnant. Trust me, we have the upper hand.”

Well, at least she wasn’t worried about it. If only he could be so sure. “Lady Tsunade is going to have a field day with this when I file my report.”

“You’re helping preserve the alliance from outside forces. Yeah, it’s a little unorthodox, but Ino’s the one who needs to take the fall for that.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Now, stop using all your energy thinking of contingencies. I need you sharp for tomorrow morning.” She took the paper from his hands and set it on her dresser, well out of his reach. “We’re too far gone to back out now.”

She might as well have been walking into her own trial. The judgmental glares of the councilmen tried to burrow into her skin as she approached the table, at which she boldly took her usual seat. Ino stood behind her chair to her right, severe and unyielding in her assumed position as bodyguard. The role came naturally to her, which was a blessing to the operation. To Ino’s left stood Shikamaru, who did his best not to look alert. The village knew him as the lackadaisical chunin exam proctor; to change his demeanor would be a complete giveaway.

Gaara glanced to his immediate left to look at his sister. To his right, Kankuro’s seat sat empty. It would be incredibly taboo to invite Shikamaru to take the seat, even if there was no real reason for him to stand. The gesture of allowing a Konoha nin to sit at the Suna council table would be too bold a move.

Temari’s eyes were cold as she stared down each of the councilmen in turn, daring them to make the first move. Her power play worked in her favor, and she decided to push it further. She shifted in her chair and leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table and weaving her fingers together. “I know I wasn’t called to the council to be gawked at. If you gentlemen have something to say, I suggest you do it.” Her challenge hung in the air, refusing to be ignored.

Shikamaru resisted the urge to wince at her brash tone. She clearly thought she’d already won, even though the battle hadn’t started. For now, all he could do was stand back.

Sajo, the narrow-eyed councilman on the other side of the table, was the first to speak. “Lady Temari, you must know that this council puts the good of the village above all else. Due to your…” he cleared his throat, “predicament, there are factors that need to be considered for the sake of Sunagakure.” He proceeded with caution, carefully choosing his words. “You are Rasa’s eldest, and, although the council selected Gaara as Kazekage, any child you bear will be from the main branch of the kage bloodline. Ordinarily, this would be natural, but the child in question isn’t entirely Suna.”

Picking up for his senior, Goza stroked his goatee as he spoke. “Even with the alliance in place, this council cannot accept a Konoha child as an heir to the kage bloodline, even as a firstborn. The conflict of interest is too great.”

“You talk as if my brothers will never have children of their own,” Temari countered.

“As that may be, there is no way to know that either Gaara or Kankuro will produce an heir of their own before tragedy strikes.” Goza’s words clearly referenced Gaara’s temporary death and Kankuro’s brush with Sasori’s poison. Both young men could easily be dead by now, and this served to emphasize his point.

Ebizo moved in his chair, surprising most of the council that he wasn’t asleep as they had assumed. The old man narrowed his eyes and looked directly at Shikamaru. He said nothing, and Joseki took his chance to speak.

“I suppose it would be best if we start at the most basic level,” Joseki spread his hands on the table. “You clearly intend to keep the child.  What does your…” he hesitated, trying to find the best word to describe Shikamaru in this situation, “lover plan to do?”

Speaking for him, Temari stated, “If you’re asking if he plans on remaining a part of our lives, the answer is yes.”

“The council cannot support a relationship such as this across village lines. Emotional ties are one thing; with a child in the mix, it could be a diplomatic nightmare if our villages go to war.”

“And would the council continue to disapprove if he were to relocate?” Temari asked, addressing the entire table.

There was some mixed murmuring before Tojuro voiced their answer. “Yes.” His decision fell heavy in the room. “He is born and raised Konoha. Relocation is no guarantee of allegiance.”

“Well?” Ebizo spoke, his voice strained and wavering with age.

“Honored Grandfather,” Temari began.

“No, Princess. I was talking to him.” He pointed a bony finger at Shikamaru. “I want to know what he thinks.”

Shikamaru wasn’t expecting to be addressed so openly. His mouth felt dry, but he pushed himself to speak. “Honored Grandfather, sir,” he used the same honorific he’d heard Temari employ, “I will do whatever it takes to remain with Temari and our child. I don’t know what this council will decide, but I would swear my allegiance to Suna tomorrow if it was required.”

The old man smiled a toothless grin, chuckling to himself. “Oh, Chiyo will haunt me for saying it, but I like him!” He looked over at Tojuro. “You don’t get to be my age without knowing what loyalty looks like. That boy would die for our princess, I guarantee it.”

“Honored Grandfather, that doesn’t have much to do with the problem at hand,” Tojuro did his best to maintain his respect and civility toward his elder. “Rasa would never stand for this, and neither should this council.”

“Rasa is dead,” Gaara rasped, adding his voice to the mix for the first time. “You’d do well to remember that I am not my father, Tojuro, and my Suna is not his.”

Tojuro’s hand balled into a fist underneath the table. “Yes, my lord.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Temari said coolly, “I came to this council meeting as a courtesy. I have already made up my mind. Whether the council approves or not, I know which move I’ll make.” She met Tojuro’s gaze. “You say my father wouldn’t stand for this. I’ll remind you that he was strictly utilitarian. Tell me, what solution would he choose?”

Tojuro clenched his jaw, angry that he didn’t have an answer. Fighting her insolence would only put him in a bad light, and so he remained silent. To his ire, Ebizo’s wheezing laugh sounded to his side.

“Very good, Princess. Very good.” Ebizo’s face wrinkled more dramatically than it already was. “I couldn’t say you’re wrong, either. Your father wouldn’t be pleased, but he would draw the same conclusion, I’m sure.”

“And what would that be?” Joseki asked.

“Our Lady Temari plans on relinquishing her bloodline claim and relocating herself.” Ebizo’s tone made it sound as obvious as telling someone the sky was blue.

The table went up in a roar as protests fought over one another, trying to be heard above the rest. Ebizo, Gaara, and Temari remained silent, and the glint in Temari’s eye betrayed her amusement at the result. Leave it to the Honorable Grandfather to land her shocking twist better than she ever could.

Shikamaru looked down at Temari with wide eyes. This wasn’t what they’d discussed, what they’d planned. Sure, it got a bigger reaction than they’d hoped for, but he didn’t know where she was going with this. She’d completely abandoned the strategy.

When the room quieted, Temari explained, “To the council, having Shikamaru relocate is a risk. My child having Konoha blood is a risk. You’d have me abandon both, I’m sure. But Suna has my brothers, two possible branches for the family. If the council wishes to follow the law of my father, it should see that my relocation will cause the largest net benefit to the largest group of people.”

Ikanago slammed his fist on the table. “Such an action would have you branded a rogue nin!”

“That decision is mine and mine alone to make, Ikanago.” Gaara didn’t try to veil his threat. “This council serves to advise, not rule. Remember that.”

Ikanago stood, his chair scraping along the sandstone floor. “I refuse to stand by while this council seals the fate of Suna. I will have no part in this.” His footsteps echoed throughout the room, and, by the time he reached the door, Tojuro and Ryusa followed his lead. When the door clicked shut, Gaara stood, placing both hands on the table.

“Dismissed.” In an instant, his sand enveloped him, and he was gone.

“Let’s go,” Temari looked up at her companions before standing. It was time to move. So as not to arouse suspicion, the trio walked out of the room with purpose. In a low tone, she whispered, “Ino, go back up Choji. Check the offices. We’ll head to the street and see if we can’t use ourselves as bait.”

Kankuro scanned the streets from his perch, hidden in one of the many open windows of the aviary. He’d come close to falling asleep when he saw three figures storm out of the building that was his mark. He narrowed his dark eyes against the sun, watching their movements. They stopped and seemed to exchange words before parting ways. One of them walked to the north, but the other two broke into a run at the west and south. Now, that was interesting. To his regret, none of them seemed to be headed his way.

He had a choice to make. He could only track one of them. Trusting his instinct, he set off after the westward-bound council member, running along the rooftops, just out of sight. He couldn’t be caught before he had proof that this man was a part of the information leak. For the moment, he had to lie low and keep his distance.

The council member – Ryusa, he could tell now that he was closer – took him in a massive loop back toward the administrative building, and Kankuro started to wonder if his presence had been detected. Ryusa slipped down an alley, turning left, then right, then left again. When he stopped, he stood in front of a back door, shrouded in shadow. Kankuro hid himself in wait, and it wasn’t long before Ryusa was joined by both Tojuro and Ikagago.

Ikanago knocked four times on the door with various pressures, and the door cracked open for him. He and the two others slipped inside, and the door was swiftly shut behind him. Kankuro had to move quickly if he was going to get backup for this one.

Ikanago put as much detail as he could into the scroll, trying not to leave out anything of importance. Tojuro was peering insufferably over his shoulder, and he resisted the urge to stab him in the thigh with his pen. If this plan was to continue unhindered, they needed to maintain some semblance of camaraderie.

Once finished, he rolled the scroll back up and made a series of hand signs, sealing it with a jutsu. To anyone else, it would look like a basic letter. There was nothing to make it official or any sign that it would be from someone of importance. The messenger was chosen for the same reason; a boy of sixteen, with nondescript features and an average build, stood across the room, waiting patiently for his assignment. They were paying him handsomely to deliver the message, and their partners were sure to do the same upon his arrival.

Ryusa stood opposite the boy, making sure he knew his responsibilities. “Now, tell me again.”

The boy bit back a groan. “I’m taking the message past the demon desert, to the boarder of the Rain. I’ll be met by a man in a black and red cloak with a mask over his face. I’m supposed to pass the scroll off to him and take the long way back, so I don’t look suspicious.” He frowned at his employer. “Can I have my money now?”

“Ingrate,” Ryusa growled as he handed him a bag of coins. “Ikanago!”

Ikanago tossed the scroll to the boy, who caught it and tucked it away in his pack, along with his payment.

“Now get going,” Tojuro commanded.

The boy disappeared up the flight of wooden stairs, headed for the back door. In a matter of seconds, there was a loud crash, a heavy thud, and the boy came tumbling back down into the cellar. The three councilmen jumped to the ready, kunai drawn.

Kankuro threw himself over the railing, diving at Tojuro. Their kunai clashed, and they broke apart, only to clash together again. Temari followed her brother, using her closed fan as a club to send Ryusa flying into the wall. Shikamaru engaged Ikanago while Ino bound the hands of the messenger boy, her knee planted firmly against his spine to keep him from moving.

The cramped quarters made fighting difficult. Kankuro and Shikamaru were used to mid-range tactics, but Temari was a long-distance fighter by nature. This almost proved fatal when Ryusa threw himself at her, lodging his kunai in her abdomen up to the hilt. Ino was quick to intervene, engaging him in hand-to-hand combat.

Temari stumbled, her hands clutching her side. She knew better than to remove the kunai. There was nothing more she could do. She barely registered that Kankuro had trapped Tojuro inside Black Ant before he was at her side.

“Tema! Aw, shit. Tema, you’re gonna be ok. C’mon, sis, stay with me.” He gave her a small shake as her head fell onto his shoulder. “Fuck! Hurry it up!” he shouted at his comrades.

“Ino!” Shikamaru shouted, holding on to Ikanago with his shadow possession. His teammate struck her opponent in the head hard enough to concuss him before hurrying to his aid. She wasted no time in binding him. As soon as she was done, she was at Temari’s side. She took her from her brother and lay her gently on the floor.

“Shit. She’s losing a lot of blood. I’m going to have to do some patchwork before we can get her to the hospital.” Ino looked at Kankuro, who nodded. “Tema, this is gonna hurt, but you’ve got this, okay?”

“Just do it,” Temari hissed, clenching her jaw as Ino removed the knife. She was bleeding freely without the obstruction, and Ino worked quickly to close the wound enough that she wouldn’t lose anymore blood. The last thing she saw was Ino gesturing to Shikamaru and Kankuro to give her more room. Then, everything was black.