Habits | By : lyarrah Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1065 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Sorry this one took so long! I got distracted (boyfriend came into town and we had over six feet of snow fell on us in three weeks).
Thanks to my beta, Noble Spirit, for cleaning this up for me. I feel like it's a lot more polished than some of my earlier chapters.
I'm still following the manga pretty closely, but this is where it really starts to diverge (other than the obvious). I honestly think TemaShika is about to become canon, but that's irrelevant. Relevant right now is that I'm not going to follow the manga even close to word for word from here on out, because I can tell it and I're going in somewhat separate directions.
Without further babble...
Habits – Chapter 6
It didn't surprise her
that he wasn't there when she woke up.
Well, maybe a little.
As with the prior day, it was a little odd to find him out of bed
before noon. Perhaps Asuma's death had put the world into perspective
for him. Maybe he'd have some initiative, some drive for once in his
life.
...But not even some initiative could explain
Shikamaru being out of bed before dawn. That was beyond weird and
bordering on creepy.
Okay, now she was surprised.
Temari
bundled her clothes back on and wandered on downstairs, peeking into
the kitchen. However, she saw no sign of him or his mother.
She
stole an apple and strolled onto the back porch. 'Maybe he had a
hard time sleeping and went out to check on the deer,' she
thought, shutting the wooden door behind her. The sky was a cerulean
blue, the light of the sun filtering into the otherwise dark sky,
although it was not visible yet. In Suna, this was the best time to
be outside, and that was probably why she'd reflexively awakened at
this hour. She couldn't possibly have gotten cold in his absence –
despite her tendency to wrestle the covers off all but her waist in
her sleep. No. It had to be instinct.
...So was it instinct
that had driven her to round the corner of the porch instead of
wander on out into the fields? Or was it just a habit, knowing that
if he weren't on the roof, he'd be with his dad or Asuma, playing
that game again?
Playing he was. Fully dressed with a
cigarette in his mouth - naturally - and sitting rigid as he peered
at the board.
He was playing a dead man, or so it seemed.
There was no opponent – just a board with a few pieces placed
across it.
She noticed his fingers perched together; two
blades sitting beside him in an excessively deliberate manner, which
sent shivers through her. She swept a hand through her hair, wanting
to know what he thought, but not wanting to interrupt. The
distraction of wondering when her hair got out of its ties lasted
long enough for him to shift, moving the pieces around the board,
turn by turn, playing both sides at once.
She tightened her
kimono. It couldn't be that cold out here to make her shiver that
much, could it?
He sighed heavily, seemingly upset by the
outcome, evidenced by him replacing everything to the starting
position.
"Shikamaru?" she ventured when he seemed
to relax for a moment. He turned, looking almost surprised to see
her, then jerked his head, gesturing for her to come over.
"I
could use a second brain for this one."
Something about
him admitting that scared Temari – her, of all people - so bad that
she almost bolted. This was no game. A game couldn't get him up
before dawn, and certainly couldn't concern him enough that he'd
admit to wanting another's brainpower on it.
She sat down
anyway, biting her apple and asking him what was going on while
acting nonchalant, playing stupid.
"I can't explain it.
Sorry. This is something for me and me alone."
It wasn't
fooling him, and when she thought about it, it wasn't fooling her
either. But hey, she'd made him contradict hims-
"Troublesome
as this one is though, I thought I'd get someone to play the other
side. And considering you've been one of my most powerful
opponents..."
Oh, yeah, that. That weird mess nearly
four years before. She was still pissed at him for what he'd pulled.
She made a mental note to punish him for that - again. No sex that
night would probably do quite nicely. Not that he hadn't been
punished for it a good twenty times, but it's his fault for reminding
her of it again.
He kept talking, even after that, and so she
sighed, leaning back on her hands as her apple core fell to the
side.
"I play as these five pieces, right? That's the
idea here?"
"...Basically. There's a few changes in
the normal rules though."
And so he explained.
And
so they played.
They kept playing after the sun came up, after
his mom had come out to see what they were doing, after his dad had
come home from his mission and watched them for nearly an hour. Each
time, it was a sequence of no more than twenty moves, and usually not
more than six, before he reset the board and they tried again.
She
knew by afternoon exactly what he had planned. This was about
revenge. He was obsessing this badly because his plan had finally
failed, because he'd been beaten, and lost someone because of his
mistakes. The unknown had caught up with him; there had been too many
variables.
The lessons learned three years prior remained with
him. He wanted to correct his mistake. However, this time, he knew
no one would appear at the last second to save him.
She
reached into the pile of discarded pieces and pulled one out, setting
it on the board on his side.
"Let me help," she
explained, tapping the piece.
He stared at the piece, then at
her. He slowly shook his head. "This is our fight." He
took the piece back off the board, closing his eyes and rested his
fingers together again.
"Maybe you should find something
else to do for a bit. Visit the others?"
Damn it, now he
wanted her gone. She'd tried to interfere too much. She objected, of
course. She objected until her throat was sore and until his mom
yelled back at her for him.
Then she stormed off, making a
good, dramatic show of it.
Overall, acted as if she was 15
again. Maybe she wanted to be again; maybe she wanted to think she
could be his savior once more, instead of just another person he
wanted to protect.
She was stronger, older, and higher
ranking. She was supposed to protect him, damn it. That had been the
deal all along, and it was still supposed to be that way.
Fucking
imbecile.
But that was why she
loved him, wasn't it? Because in the end, everything was
because he cared.
----------
She spent an hour out with
the deer, sitting quietly amongst them. She knew that was likely
where he acquired his affection for cloud watching... As a child, he
spent his days off from school guarding the herd and thinking,
training his mind instead of his body. She'd hoped that being there
might give her some sort of insight, some way of helping him short of
chasing after him as she tended to. However, she knew she was a
decade late to bridge the gap between her intellect and his.
Temari
left the field, deciding to rely on the one advantage she had over
him: women's intuition.
If only her intuition had something to
say other than beating him until his limbs
broke.
----------
Dinner... was awkward. She'd never
spent more than a few minutes at a time in a room with either of his
parents, let alone both. Let alone both without Shikamaru
there.
His mom attempted to make conversation, and at first
Temari tried to respond in kind, since Shikaku obviously wasn't
saying anything. Like father, like son. It got to her after a while,
though, and she stood just short of politely, walking outside to
retrieve her boyfriend.
She knew they were watching her drag
him by, taking him through the kitchen and up the stairs. She knew it
was early, and they were aware she'd slept over the night before, and
everything else.
She didn't care.
All she wanted was to
hold and kiss him and convince him not to do anything stupid -
without openly admitting she was worried about him. After all, she
didn't worry. Especially not about him.
Even though she loved
him.
She threw him on the bed and pounced, kissing him
desperately, tearing out his hair tie with one hand while the other
pinned one of his above his head. With hands separated, he couldn't
use his shadow to force her off him. He was defenseless, and she
liked that. Now was the time to teach him what was truly important.
Then she made the mistake of pulling back long enough to get
a good look at him. He stared, long and hard, his gaze almost
piercing through her, his eyes all but vacant.
"Are you
done?" he asked curtly. She nodded, quietly, and rolled off to
sit beside him.
"Don't worry, all right," he said,
sitting while gathering his ponytail back together with his hair tie.
It wasn't a question, or any attempt at comfort; it was a command.
"I'm going to go see Chouji and Ino. I'll be back in an hour or
two. You can stay here if you want."
There wasn't much
she could do if she followed.
So she chose to
stay.
---------
His arrival that night consisted of
shedding his clothes and collapsing in bed beside her. She pretended
to be asleep while he stared at her for almost half an hour before
finally falling asleep.
She woke up at sunrise again, but this
time, he was lying beside her, and barely more than snuggled his
pillow as she climbed out of bed.
Breakfast and a shower
later, he was still sleeping. It was so normal, so usual of him,
compared to the previous days that Temari couldn't help but feel
disturbed. She rubbed her arms, smoothing down the goosebumps, then
walked to the bathroom again, tossing the towel from her head to the
floor carelessly. She worked on tying her hair back, glancing back
down the hall after completing each ponytail. No sign of movement.
She had a meeting to attend. A couple, actually. He was
supposed to go to one of those, too...
Why did the idiot have
to look so cute with his hair down and drool hanging from his open
mouth?
...Yeah, she'd tell Yoshino to wake him up in time for
his meeting.
----------
He opened his eyes and sat up,
wiping his mouth on his forearm. God, she wasn't even trying to hide
the fact she was staying here, let alone sleeping in the same bed,
was she? It had to have occurred to her that they would get in
trouble if his parents came to the (obvious) conclusion that he was
intimate with a girl, let alone one from a different village. She was
one of the smartest people he knew, so the fact couldn't have escaped
her.
No, there was only one answer; she was in league with his
mother. His dad wouldn't have cared to begin with... In fact, Shikaku
whistled at her at one point. Likely just to annoy his son, of
course, but it still meant that he could care less what they were up
to. No, it was his mom he had to watch out for, and she...
Was
downstairs yelling for him to get out of bed. Great. Why did she
wake him up from such a good sleep, especially after he'd been up
late the night before? Well, not wake him so much as get him out of
bed, since he was already awake.
She was still yelling. He
stood up, stretching slowly, then called back in a flat, barely
raised voice, "I'm up, mom. I know, the meeting."
Two of them. Two crazy
women under one roof, both in control of his life and now possibly in
cooperation with each other. He wondered what was in his dad's
genetics that made Nara men attracted to bitches.
Then he
remembered her smile. He sighed, knowing why.
He'd have to
make sure he saw it as much as possible that night. Just in case. If
everything went as planned, then he'd have a million more chances to
see it. If not – and things seldom went exactly as he planned –
it might be his last chance. He couldn't afford for it to be, of
course,... not after all he'd promised to her and to his old
teammates, not after all she'd lost. Things must go smoothly.
For
now, he had to work on acting normal. He knew that Temari, and
possibly his whole family, was suspicious after how he'd spent the
previous day. It was obvious that he planned revenge; he wanted them
to believe he'd realized all plans were impractical, and decided
against it. That'd be best.
So would get dressed. Standing
around in his boxers wasn't going to accomplish
anything.
----------
One night over at Chouji's, her
parents had understood, especially after the funeral. Two they'd been
iffy about, but they dealt with it anyway. Three, though, she knew
would be too much, but she was going to do so anyway... which meant
that she'd gone to work in the shop that morning, just to appease
them a bit. When Chouji picked her up for lunch, they made the best
show possible of things being perfectly normal, pretending they
weren't together, and that they hadn't spent most of the previous 48
hours roaming in bed, or planning illegal missions.
They put
together a simple bouquet – white periwinkle and forsythia –
before leaving, which Ino clung to with both hands as they wandered
down the street. Lunch was surprisingly easy and normal, but that
wasn't going to be the hard part. No, the rest of the day... seeing
Kurenai and talking with her for the first time since Asuma's
death...
She wasn't their teacher, but they'd come to know her
well over the years. Her relationship with Asuma had been public only
to their two teams, though of course Tsunade knew of it – as
Hokage, it was her job to know everything about her village. The
last few days of grief had been left to herself and her own team, but
now it was Ino and Chouji's turn to go comfort the older kunoichi;
Shikamaru had gotten his chance back when she first learned the
truth.
It was obvious from the moment she opened the door that Kurenai was still hurting. Her eyes were surrounded by dark circles and her smile was strained, though at least today she was trying. At the funeral two days before, there'd been no sign of anything but pain and sorrow on her face. Ino nearly dropped the bouquet in her hurry to give the woman a hug, and Chouji quickly embraced them both, bending down so that his arms wrapped around their shoulders. One after another burst into tears, right there on the doorstep.
Slowly they calmed again, smiling quietly at each other as Kurenai invited them in, closing the door behind them. She fetched a small vase for the bundle of white flowers, placing them on a table as her guests sat on the couch.
They talked quietly, catching up on things. It'd been a few months since they'd been together like this, the group drifting apart into their designated new teams in the Nijuu Shotai. Most of it was simple conversation, or reminiscing about Asuma – the stories were far and few between for now, but they all knew that there was enough to last for years to come.
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