#in fact temari forbid kankuro to ever try these with gaara

[on-the-edge-of-dune]

Temari: okay, so you can grab it with your left hand-

Kankuro: a dick

Temari: shut the fuck up and let me finish..you can grab it with your left hand, but not the right

Kankuro: its a dick

Temari: its not a fucking dick!!

Kankuro: well im right handed, so left is what i usually-

Temari: dont finish that sentence or i swear to god i will kill you on the spot

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [30] - {ShikaTema AU}

It’s been a while. Exams are vile and get in the way, but I’m back now!!

I hope you enjoy :)

[READ/COMMENT ON AO3]

CHAPTER THIRTY

“You okay, Temari?”

She turned to her brother sharply and nodded. The road seemed to be going on forever, and after sitting in the passenger seat of the van for nearly four hours Temari was ready to jump out. She was grateful that, after talking some things through with Baki, Kankuro was perkier and humming along to the radio as he drove, but that didn’t ease her anxiousness to get home. Every sign she saw counted down the distance, but it never seemed to move fast enough for her racing mind.

The useless phone in her pocket seemed to jab at her with every fidgety movement she made. It hurt how much she longed to hear it ring and that weary voice breathe life into the device once more after over two days, and she kept getting lost in her visions of such impossibilities. 

“Sorry,” said Kankuro, a subtle crack in his voice. “I know how much you hate visiting Mum.”

Temari shrugged. “It’s not that I hate it, the place just holds too much hate for me, and that’s not your fault—it’s his,” she sighed, letting her eyes flicker down to her restless fingertips. “And, besides, it’s nice visiting Baki.”

“His advice is always good.”

“It is.”

The radio lingered in the background, and a familiar song suddenly started spilling from the speakers. Temari bit down on her lip as she recognised it as one which had been playing in Shikamaru’s car on Saturday, and felt her heart leap a little as the man’s voice sounded. Kankuro leaned over to adjust the channel, disgruntled, but she smacked his hand away to turn it up. “Why are you so miserable all of a sudden?” Temari crossed her arms as a chill crept in through the air vents. “Are you still het up about Suki?”

“I just don’t know why I flip out like I do with girls,” he mumbled, his eyes flicking toward her cautiously, “and I don’t need you to analyse me to tell me it’s about Mum being gone, but—”

“It’s fine.” She smiled and elbowed him gently. “You only had me to help you understand women growing up, and I’m not sure most women are like me.”

Kankuro let out a faint chuckle. “Well, Gaara turned out fine with that.”

“Gaara’s never been cheated on—it’s completely different.”

“I don’t want to sound like a wimp, Temari, but it’s every single time,” he grumbled. “Do I treat girls badly? Am I that much like Dad?”

“You’re nothing like Dad, Kankuro.”

He laughed in a somewhat maniacal fashion, and Temari didn’t like it. “But I am. You’ve said it yourself.”

“Yeah, well I can be a bitch, can’t I?” She waiting for a calmer expression to settle on her brothers face. “Look, we can drive back and forth to Suna to visit Mum’s grave or talk to Baki, but you’re the one who’s got to put their foot down and say you’re not going to take it anymore.” Temari let out a chuckle. “And I can pick apart all the differences between you and Dad psychologically to make you feel better all you want, but the fact still remains that Dad did love Mum. He might even have loved us.”

“I don’t care if he did or didn’t love us, Tem. I just want to stop scaring people off.”

There was something so pitiful in his voice—a sadness Temari hadn’t heard in many years. She had to admit this had become routine with him and women, and the only one who hadn’t been turned off by Kankuro’s intense attempts at romance had become the source of much laughter for the other siblings. The way Temari saw it, other than crazy poem lady, women saw Kankuro as shallow and so most treated him that way in return. It was cruel, but she could understand their reasoning, and when they didn’t follow that path for whatever reason, she’d watch her brother fumble about with clichés to a point where Temari could barely listen to the poor wretch.

Right now, watching his glazed eyes stare ahead at the highway, she wished a slap on the back could solve everything for her. It was more than just a little frustrating of him to sit there, clearly fishing for relationship advice, after all he’d said to her the last few weeks. But, just as always, Temari found it difficult not to voice her opinion.

If he wants help, she thought, I’m not sugar coating it.

Temari threw her head back onto the chair with a sigh. “Well, for starters, stop trying to be extravagant. Not everyone likes that.”

“Do you?”

“Nope, I despise it.”

“But what about that bloke who wrote you a song?”

“Why do you think I dumped him, Kankuro?”

He smiled, properly this time, and Temari felt something settle in her chest. “I can’t speak for all women, but I just like knowing someone will back me up if I need them to.”

“Well, I can do that.”

Temari screwed her nose up. “Maybe, but you don’t listen. Listening is the important bit.”

Although he didn’t seem to understand her, her brother nodded along. “I’ll always back you up, Temari, you can count on me. If our roles were reversed and you’d been cheated on I would’ve punched someone by now—I’m surprised you didn’t.”

She tried not to ball her fists, each word he said growing less meaningful. “Thankfully I have some level of self control.”

“And you’re too smart to find yourself in my shoes,” he chuckled. “Or at least you used to be.”

Her head turned slowly. “Meaning?”

Kankuro said nothing, simply snorted and shrugged without even glancing her way, and she didn’t need more than a second to understand what he meant.

“So it’s like that, is it?” she spat. “Go on, then: explain it to me.”

“What?” He sounded defensive, and it riled her up beyond belief. As if he had the right to act dumbfounded. “Explain what?”

“You know what, moron: Shikamaru,” she growled. Her stomach twisted into knots as the radio continued to play that song, almost as if it was rooting for her. “What exactly is your problem with him?”

“I don’t have—”

“Don’t lie to me. Spit it out.”

Kankuro “Tem, you know…he’s y—”

“Don’t give me the ‘he’s your patient’ bullshit.” She imitated him with her go-to mimic of sassy quote marks and narrow eyes. Temari thought he might’ve laughed if not for the menacing stare that accompanied it. “He isn’t, and he won’t ever be again.”

“You worked, Tem. You can’t let that go to waste.”

“Now you sound like Dad. Is that really what you want?”

Her brother shot her a maddened glance as he pulled off the highway, and she could see the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Immediately she knew she’d struck a nerve, but after all the harsh words he’d dealt her on the topic in the past, Temari found it near on impossible to feel sorry for the man. She wanted to—she really did—and she knew the connotations of what she had said, but since that chess board had been shelved two weeks ago logic felt almost meaningless.

Temari found herself driven more by emotion every day thanks to Shikamaru’s obscure place in her life; he slotted in perfectly to this puzzle she’d build for herself without even meaning to, and while that scared her to death it also filled her with this sense of self she’d never quite felt before. These past few weeks, as mind-bendingly frustrating as they had been at times, cemented the fact she was allowed to be angry just as much as Kankuro was. More than that she was allowed to feel happy, however that feeling came about, just as Shikamaru was. 

Proudly, Temari looked back at the road and crossed her arms tight across her chest. “I thought as much,” she gloated to herself quietly as she twisted the volume knob of the radio up slightly, but Kankuro’s arm snapped out, instantly turning it right down.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you, okay?” he said, desperate annoyance lingering on his tongue. “I don’t want anyone to hurt my sister while I can help it.”

“Your sister can think for herself, and fend for herself.” Temari shook her head, staring out the window. “It’s honestly offensive how incapable you think I am, Kankuro. Do you realise that?”

“I know you can fend for yourself, but you aren’t—”

“I am capable of doing all the things I need to be able to do without your help,” she snarled. “I didn’t have to come with you. I could’ve let you go alone, or even have taken a leaf out of your book and forbid you to go where you wanted.”

“You couldn’t do that.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

They pulled up to a traffic light and the pair jolted from the aggressive breaking.

Temari’s head turned, the tip of her nose twitching. “That’s the difference between us, Kankuro,” she said bluntly. “I care about you, and that’s why I let you make mistakes and learn from them. I can’t count the number of times I could’ve thrown out your girlfriend because I thought she’d hurt you, and she did. Being loving—caring for each other—it isn’t about control!”

Kankuro slouched, checking his mirrors. “You don’t have to tell me that—I’m not Dad!”

“Could’ve fucking fooled me!”

He moved off with a start and turned the radio up sharply. Suddenly Phil Collins voice didn’t feel empowering, it ground against her brain until all she heard was static. There wasn’t even an ounce of her that felt bad anymore, she was sick of being treated like a child by such an immature moron, but she couldn’t help noticing that raising her voice of the radio was just angering her more than it was changing his mind.

Kankuro wasn’t going to listen more just because she shouted, he’d just shout back—childhood screaming matches had taught her enough about such things. She had to try a different approach if she wanted to get out of this car with her vocal chords still in tact.

“Look,” she sighed, anger still apparent in her new, somewhat softer tone, “I get that you want me to be safe, but—”

“And not get fired.” Kankuro didn’t move his eyes, just grumbled.

“But this, all of this, just isn’t fair, Kankuro.” She spun in her seat, facing him. “Can you really not see that I won’t get sacked? That it’s just some stupid excuse you’ve zoned in on?”

He huffed despairingly, finally turning off the radio entirely. “But you worked, Tem,” he said, “Too hard—to just throw everything out over the first lost puppy you fancy.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “Lost puppy—can you even hear yourself, you absolute twat!” Who was she kidding? That softness in her voice hadn’t been built to last.

“You’ve got inside his head, you know you have—you always do!” Kankuro scoffed. “This is what always happens with you and guys. You get in their heads, whether you mean to or not.”

“You’ve never mentioned that before,” she spat. “Why is it suddenly a problem now?”

“Because you’re letting him in your head, Tem. You’re practically wearing a kick me sign constantly.”

“Why does everything have to be an argument with you?”

“With you, you mean.”

“Oh, you’re proper mature, aren’t you, Kankuro?”

“If you keep leading him on, Tem, he will end up hurting you.”

Temari almost tore off her seat belt and threw herself out onto the pavement. Her mind was racing so much faster than her body could move, and by the time he’d shaken his head she was one wrong word away from punching him square in the face. She’d tried being calm, however weak an attempt it was, and she’d tried to understand his stupid reasoning. Temari wasn’t sure what more she was supposed to do. There was no way she could feasibly sit here and take in another lie from him without hitting him. She knew she had to  ignore him in order to go in for the kill, and she needed to do so calmly.

Slowly but surely, Temari adjusted her position in the seat and took a deep, calming breath. She could see his eyes change beside her as a wave of terror overtook him; this was what she always did when she was past the point of no return. “Kankuro,” she tried slowly, “for one minute can you just stop spouting mindless drivel and shut up? You don’t know him—and what you do know of him is frankly harmless.” Temari balled her fists, ready for the next wave of excuses, and hid them underneath her thighs as though to restrain herself. “Besides, even if he, or anybody else, fucked with me and hurt me, I’m perfectly capable of punching them myself, thank you very much.”

Kankuro bit down on his lip. A distressed expression was quickly weaving its way between the angry lines around his eyes. “Tem—”

“No. Don’t ‘Tem’ me. You don’t have to do this—any of this. It’s not some brotherly requirement. Gaara doesn’t do it—he never would.”

“Temari, listen—”

“No, you listen to me for once, alright? You just fucking listen!” When turned to her, he seemed surprised to see she was holding back tears. It wasn’t something he was used to seeing, but she couldn’t quite comprehend how he thought she wouldn’t be upset by his words. Her snapping, breaking the facade of being collected, was impossible to stop, and as embarrassed as she now was by the wetness around her eyes she refused to wipe it away. “More than that, I don’t want you to do this,” she added, her voice cracking slightly. “I want you to let me live my life and you just live your own.”

He was perturbed now, no doubt, but it just wasn’t enough. She could see it, and she was ready to interrupt the moment he opened his mouth. “But he’s—”

“He’s what?”

“Damaged…”

Temari threw her weight back in the chair and laughed. “Oh, fuck you…”

“What?” Kankuro shifted awkwardly in his seat. He was clearly afraid of her now, and she didn’t care. She just kept on laughing, the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Damaged?” She shook her head in amazement at his sheer idiocy. “Take a second to remember that Gaara is also ‘damaged’ as you like to say,” she snarled. "Does that mean the guy he went out with on Saturday should run? Run away from our little, damaged brother before it’s too late to turn back?”

Something was changing in his eyes as he smashed down the indicator, turning left and zooming past the pub. Thank god they were almost home—she couldn’t wait to escape this stupid van and ignore the bastard for another week.

“Of course not,” he said calmly.

Victory was in sight.

“Exactly,” Temari agreed. “So why is it any different for Shikamaru? Why is he not allowed to find love?”

She saw his ears perk up and his eyes flash to look at her. Shit.

“Love?”

Temari had to admit it: the tone was convincing enough that she’d even pondered the word herself for a moment too long. She gulped, rolling her eyes, and decided he didn’t deserve an answer.

“I’m sorry.” The voice was feeble, almost shaky. It took Temari right back to her childhood, and she vividly remembered the moments after he’d spilled apple juice all over her GameBoy. Her blood started to boil at the memory, but she forced her attention back to the present with great effort to see Kankuro chewing nervously on his lip. “You’re right,” he admitted. “It’s not my job to control your life.”

“No,” she repeated. “It isn’t.”

“I’m sorry for pissing you off, and for yelling at you.”

There was a beat as he pulled to the side of the road, smiling at her hopefully until she wiped her eyes and forced one in return. 

“Well, I’m not sorry for yelling at you at all,” she sighed as the van ground to a halt. “Your whole argument is built on hypocrisy and…bullshit.”

Kankuro reached over, avoiding her eyes, and gave her hand a quick squeeze as he hopped out of the car. Once the frustration settled slightly and her shoulders softened, Temari followed suit with a smile that felt a lot more real. Even if it was impossible to tell how much, she had achieved something from this.

“So, explain,” her brother started, mimicking the bitter tone which she had begun the fiasco, “what exactly is so good about this boyfriend of yours?”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

He started laughing as he hauled their bags out the back of the van. “Oh, honestly—the nerve you’ve got.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I just mean, after ten solid minutes or more of yelling I’d almost rather he was, you know? It’d be worth the bullshit.”

Temari felt herself blush as she pushed the van doors shut. “So, you don’t mind if I see him again?”

“Oh,” he laughed, “I really fucking mind.”

“Kankuro…” Her low voice came as a warning, but she wasn’t sure she had the patience to go through it all again.

He shrugged. “Just hate the idea of someone shagging my sister. It’s gross.”

Temari, holding back a smirk she was desperate not to show, whacked him in the knees with her holdall and laughed as he wobbled. “You’re gross, but I guess I get that.”

“You know you can’t make me like him?”

She nodded and backed away towards the front door. “I know, and I don’t need you to,” she smiled. “But I do need you to stop being a nutcase about him.”

“Nutcase?”

“No more creepy texts to Gaara, and no more confronting him at work.”

Kankuro held back a laugh, pursing his lips. She didn’t like that look. It was playful, yes, but he looked like a child ready to jump on the sandcastle she’d just spent hours perfecting—not that such a memory still angered her to this day or anything.

“Say you won’t do it, Kankuro.”

“Fine,” he laughed, throwing a set keys for her to catch. “I won’t do it.”

“You swear?”

There was a tut and a telling eye roll before he nodded. “I promise.”

~~~

Torso wrapped tightly in a towel, Temari hurried back into her bedroom still high on the steam of the bathroom. The feeling of warm water on her skin had felt impossibly good after hours sat stiffly in the van; her body felt wonderfully relaxed. Her mind, however, was still racing.

Her eyes darted to the screen of her charging phone as it lit up. Unable to wait she threw her damp hair up and pulled the first jumper she reached over her head. As it settled on her shoulders she noticed the faintest hint of Shikamaru’s minty shampoo and a warm feeling started to grow in her abdomen, but she didn’t let it slow her down for more than a second. Temari hopped over to her desk, half dressed and took the phone in her hand. Fifty-percent charged—that was enough for now.

She tore the cable from it and fell back onto her bed, tapping in four digits to unlock the world she’d longed for these last few days.

4 missed calls

2 voicemails

It felt like Christmas all over again when she read the name.

Temari had never clicked on something so fast. She pressed the phone against her ear, grinning proudly.  

“Tem, um, hi…”

A shiver flew down her spine.

Shikamaru cleared his throat quickly. “I’m, um, just checking in ‘cause you said you’d call and, well, um…you haven’t.” She heard a heavy sigh. “I, um, I just wanted to say sorry I didn’t stick around when your brother turned up. I hope whatever happened isn’t that much of a disaster that you won’t call.” The cough sounded again, and she realised that his voice was almost a whisper. Not just that, he sounded impossibly sad—nervous with all of his stutters and mumbles. Whenever she had come face to face with this man’s sadness before, it had been laced with the same deadpan tone he held ninety-percent of the time he spoke. “Please,” he mumbled, his monotone voice clearly worried. “Call me.”

She tore the phone from her ear and immediately tapped the second message, bracing her chest to hear the same pitiful voice echoing down the line. But it didn’t come. 

“Right, hello,” said a voice so confidently bright she almost didn’t recognise it. “He won’t admit to it but he really misses you—he refuses to talk about you when I ask. Right now he’s out smoking but the idiot’s left his phone in here as if I’m not going to ring you, and he knows I know his password is password—and so do you now, shit.”

There was a spritely laugh and a sweet snort. It was Choji, no doubt about it.

“I hear that you’re busy and can’t reach him, but if there’s some chance you get this, please call him.”

Something Temari could only pin as sickening worry shot through her.

“He’s fine,” he added, “don’t worry or anything when you hear this.”

Too late, she wished she could say, already trying to steady herself.

“But just give him a shout, yeah? He won’t admit it, but it’s pretty much all he wants.” There was a soft chuckle and what sounded like non-committal shouting in the background. She chuckled. Choji had been rumbled. “Okay, cheers—see you soon, Ma—bye! Look, Shikamaru, mine died and I had to ring Ma about dinner and—”

The line went dead and Temari found herself giggling. She was glad to have had her life touched by such kind people. Shikamaru stole the limelight, but knowing one of those people was Choji—one of the nicest men she’d had the pleasure of meeting—made her excited at the thought of meeting the rest of his circle.

Temari blinked harshly and shook her head and almost started laughing at herself. He hadn’t even introduced her to his other friend—to Ino—and there was still some nagging part in her brain wondering why. Sudden and unwarranted waves of jealousy still plagued her now and again. After all, what if Kankuro was right? What if there was something there—some unspoken history he’d never admit to?

“Oh, get over yourself, girl,” she told herself sharply. “When is Kankuro ever right?”

Grumbling, she let her eyes drift back down to her phone and scrolled through the messages that had been sent. Most of them read the same, a simple ‘hi’ and nothing more, but the very last two changed. Temari bit down on her lip to stop herself grinning like an idiot as her frustrations subsided, replaced only with excitement.

(13:18) Shikamaru: Hi. Gaara told me where you are, so ignore all my pointless messages.

(13:32) Shikamaru: It’s weird not hearing your voice. Let me know when you’re home safe, yeah? x

Never in her life had Temari been happier to see the letter ‘x’.

—> I’m home x

She dropped the phone on her bed beside her and reached for a pair of leggings. They were barely over her thighs by the time her phone buzzed, and her head shot around.

(22:46) Shikamaru: Good x

Unable to contain her excitement, Temari’s thumb was already hovering over the call button at the top of the screen when it buzzed a second time. 

(22:46) Shikamaru: I’m outside x

She retracted her thumb, checked her doorway was empty of siblings, and quickly tapped out a response as she sprinted downstairs to look out of the front window. She could see the shadow of a ponytail as he stepped into the spotlight of a streetlamp, and watched him point up to her front door.

—> You can’t come in x

(22:47) Shikamaru: Kankuro’s in then x

—>I spoke to him and he might not deck you anymore but dont wanna push it x

The little laugh she watched him let out was beautiful. Temari didn’t realise how much she’d missed the little shudder of his shoulders until it was right before her, and she couldn’t hold herself back from pressing call on her phone. The moment the phone hit her ear he had answered and she bit down on her bottom lip, stopping herself from pressing herself against the window as if that would somehow close the distance between them.

It felt pathetic, but Temari didn’t care.

She smirked at the clearing of his throat, aware he couldn’t see her. “Have you been following me?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “You’re such a pain to keep track of, though, you know that?”

“Well, you found me.”

Shikamaru shook his head. “Bad luck on my part,” he sneered. “I saw the van go past while I was having a ciggie outside the pub. Choji probably hasn’t even noticed I’ve abandoned him for you yet.”

Temari snorted and immediately blushed, grateful for the distance between them as he chuckled to himself. “Ah, so the man has drink in him?”

“Oh, yeah—I’m all orange-juiced up,” he nodded.

“Did Choji give you an extra straw yet?”

“Of course he didn’t.”

She laughed, pressing her fingertips against the windowpane. “I missed you,” she whispered gently down the line, half expecting to see him outwardly cringe, but instead she saw him simply take a puff of cigarette. It was almost disappointing. 

“I’m sure you did,” he tutted, “you’re obsessed with me.”

Temari let herself sit on her windowsill and leaned against the window as she’d longed to do from the moment she saw him, opening the window a crack. The night wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been before she left for her godfather’s, and there was a subtle warmth drifting through the February air. She heard the echo as he cleared his throat bounced around the terraced houses as well as down the phone line, and didn’t bother holding back her grin. She really had missed him. But she couldn’t say that again. It would be weird. Yes, by now they were good friends—it was fine for friends to miss each other, but it wasn’t fine for her to still be thinking back to last week and the way he’d stormed into her office. The way he’d grabbed her waist and kissed her—kissed every part of her—wasn’t an acceptable train of thought to have every time she saw caught sight of him.

“So,” she started, desperate to derail the ideas racing in her mind, “have you met Chojuro yet?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied sharply.

Temari nodded. “He’s good. He’ll help you.”

“So I hear.” It was clear to see him stiffen up at the thought of it. Shikamaru began kicking the leaves at his feet, his shoulders hunched that slightest bit more than before. Temari couldn’t help wondering if he felt what she did; that this was the end somehow. “I won’t mention you.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him with a giggle, hoping a happy tone of voice might loosen those burdened shoulder. If only she could sprint down right now and hug him until she felt that stiffness fade away. “But if you do, call me something else don’t I don’t lose my job, okay?”

Shikamaru shrugged and dropped his cigarette, squishing it. “Fine. I’ll call you Tara.”

“Don’t like it.”

“Tori then.”

“Worse.”

“Tori it is.”

The moment she’d said it, Temari regretted it. It wasn’t even far enough from her name for a man like Chojuro not to pick up on what lay behind it, but she suspected that this was nothing more than a wind up. Shikamaru wasn’t stupid—she new it for a fact, as much as she questioned it in every day moments. If driving her mad and irritating her in jest was going to put a spring in his step, as it seemed to do, she wasn’t ever going to let him stop. Now the shit-eating grin across his lips was so clear it stood out in the darkness, and Temari couldn’t help the smug feeling that swarmed her.

She’d done that, put that smile on his face, and nothing had ever felt quite like this. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d even been this proud when she’d received her degree. Why was she so pleased with herself for making a man smile that she couldn’t keep her own excitement at bay? Watching those perfectly broad shoulders jitter with another chuckle, Temari made the executive decision to ask Gaara once she went up to bed.

Look at you, Temari, she cursed, a therapist having to ask her little brother what her feelings mean…

She looked up at the stars above them, shining brighter than they had even back in her hometown last night, and her heart swelled as she heard Shikamaru’s laugh bounce around the houses once again. “What?” she asked. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing’s funny,” he told her, “I’m just happy.”

It was nearly impossible not to jump out the window and run to him.

A small smile spread across her lips. She’d repeated to everyone that he wasn’t her patient anymore for what felt like forever, and she’d known from the start that the most difficult person to convince of that would be herself. But, as she watched him raise a new cigarette to his lips, Temari instantly noticed the change in her approach to him, and she realised it wasn’t difficult at all.

Since she had met Shikamaru, Temari had been determined to fix him—that is what her job had been, after all, and he had asked her to do it. But now all she needed was to see that smile. She didn’t care who put it there, or uncrossed all the wires that might’ve been jumbled in his mind. As of now, that wasn’t her responsibility, even if she wanted it to be. Her responsibility was to be a friend for him to fall back on when he needed her; to be someone to rely on for encouragement, or a laugh when things seemed dark again. She was never going to stop wanting him to be better, or stop wanting to rid him of the troubles he carried in his mind, but Temari realised now that it had never really been her job to do that.

Shikamaru had entered her office that day for one reason, and she knew she had failed to provide him with what he really needed from the start. It was clear to Temari now that whether she succeeded or failed in the past really mattered—she wasn’t the person who was supposed to do this. He had stepped into that office and in doing so he had gained a friend; that’s all she needed to be for him now.

Maybe, one day, he would want more from her than just a helping hand. With all her might she longed to care for him in a way that wasn’t ruled by science and logic. She wanted to hear about the intricacies of his feelings and take them in, hold him if he cried just so he knew someone was there; no words or analysis required or wanted. There was something perfect to her about comfort without reason or explanation, just because she could and because she wanted to.

But what Temari wanted, in reality, faded into nothing with perspective. All she could think of that mattered in this very moment was him, right there, staring up at with a smile.

“I should get back to Choji.”

The warm feeling that had spread through her chest was momentarily accompanied by a jab in the gut. This was it. “Oh, right,” she mumbled. “Okay, then.”

Every hitch in her breath said it clearly wasn’t, and even Shikamaru wasn’t far enough away to ignore the sudden change in her posture. “I can stay on the phone if you want,” he offered.

“I’m a big girl I don’t need you to do that,” she scoffed, stubborn as ever. As if she’d ever admit she did, in fact, want to hear him talk longer—forever in fact. She knew the change was coming, she wanted it, but that didn’t mean she was reader for him to leave tonight.

“But you missed me.” He started walking away backwards, only a few steps, but he seemed a world away. “Wouldn’t want to deny you more of my voice?”

“Well, the voice I can live without.”

There was a pause and an awkward cough from his end of the phone.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Shikamaru.”

I definitely did.

“Temari, your mind is filthy.”

She blushed, a devilishness creeping to the forefront of her mind. “I’m not the one who likes it when they’re—”

“No!” he spat over her. Shikamaru stopped dead, pointing back at her accusatively.  “Not while I’m walking down the street. Let me keep my dignity, woman.”

Temari was sure that she’d get noise complaints come the morning from the laughter that flew out the window into the open air. He sent the same, cackling laugh right back, and that same overwhelming feeling of pride crept over her. It almost broke her when they finally fell silent and he raised his hand to say goodbye, slow and solemn.

He didn’t want to leave either, and he was barely even hiding it, but he began stepping back anyway. As much as it felt terrible, Temari knew she had to let him disappear around the corner. It hadn’t felt real that he’d be moving on until his departure right now. It was finally sinking in that, when she’d see him next, she’d have no reason for her to consider him her responsibility; he’d be another patient come tomorrow morning, and this part of their lives had ended. Temari had no idea what would follow, and she could only hope things fell into place as they did when her eyes fluttered shut at night, but for now she needed to let go of the first patient she had made smile and watch him grow into the man she knew he could be, the man she wanted.

Temari gulped, suddenly realising exactly what that feeling in her chest was.

“Night,” said Shikamaru, cutting through the silence with the cleanest and most careful voice.

“Goodnight. I’ll call you,” she mumbled, waving meekly in return. “Really this time, no bullshit.”

She couldn’t see his smile anymore when he grew silent, but she prayed it was there.

“Temari?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you so much.”

Temari bit down on her lip as unwanted tears formed in her waterline. “I know, flower boy,” she sighed. “I know.”