A/N: Hello lovely people - ShikaTema Week is here! As a result, this will be a seven-part fic based on this year's prompts. For more ShikaTema work, you can head over to my profile where I have a few one-shots and ongoing stories for this amazing pairing (I love them more than my own life lol). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still far too poor to own Naruto, but hey, maybe one of these days...

Light.

It flooded everything in an instant; she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, the soft breeze in the middle of the battlefield, the smell of earth and ash and blood. The landscape she was greeted by was far from a utopia, but it was there. It was real. A physical, tangible reality that she readjusted to instinctively, for this was where she belonged - not in a dream concocted in the depths of her mind but in the midst of conflict. Not because she inherently enjoyed war - no one besides a sadist would say that - but it reminded her that she was fighting for something, that she had a purpose. That she could be strong and resilient and useful, but most of all, that she could be compassionate.

Shikamaru.

She looked around as the rest of the world awoke from their own cocoons of illusion. She witnessed the joy of reunions, the relief of waking up, the gratitude at being alive. But he was nowhere to be found. She was terrified.

"Temari!"

She turned sharply to see Kankuro race towards her. "Thank God you're alright," he said on his approach.

Without a word, she hugged him, tighter than she'd ever done before and for much longer than she'd usually be comfortable with. "I'm glad you're okay," she smiled into his shoulder.

"Temari. Kankuro."

They parted and there was their youngest sibling, riding towards them on a wave of sand. His arms were folded across his chest as usual and he wore a stoic look on his face, but Temari would not let him act so cool in front of them. As soon as he descended to the ground within her reach, she clung onto him.

"Good job, Commander," she whispered, ruffling his brilliant red hair as she held him to her.

"Are you both okay? Any injuries?"

"I can't speak for Kankuro, but I'm fine," Temari replied. "Just exhausted, mentally and physically."

"Yeah, can't say I'm in the best shape, but nothing worth hospital treatment," Kankuro added. "You should see how the other leaders are doing."

Gaara nodded. "Take care of yourselves."

"Be safe," Temari called after him.

Kankuro sighed and they merely looked at each other for a few moments before he grew impatient with the silence. "Go."

"Huh? Where?"

"Where do you think?" he scoffed. "To that smartass from Konoha."

She was personally offended. "What makes you think I'd consider doing that?"

"You have the same look on your face as you do when you're worried about someone you care for. And now that you know Gaara and I are fine, the only other person you care about enough to pull that long face for is Shikamaru Nara."

"That's not true," she defended herself. "I'd be upset if Baki was hurt."

"You'd never show it," Kankuro teased. "Mainly because he'd never let you live it down."

"What makes you think that Shikamaru would?"

"You call him a 'crybaby' all the time."

"What are you trying to say-"

"Stop wasting air on me and go find him."

"I'm sure he's fine..."

"Go."

She rolled her eyes and darted off towards the Konoha frontlines. Secretly, she was thankful; this was the one time Kankuro had been stubborn and beaten her at her own game, not that she put up much of a fight. This time, she wouldn't let her pride get in the way of what was important. Of who was important.

When she saw him, supported by Choji and Ino, she felt relief wash through her. He was safe, and though drained of colour and energy, medically stable. But to her surprise and disappointment, he didn't smirk when he saw her coming. He barely acknowledged her when she stood in front of him. Comforting others was foreign to her, so she searched for some way of conversing that would help them settle back into their familiar dynamic.

"You've looked worse, Nara."

He merely looked at her. "Temari."

"Are you okay?" Ino asked.

"Me? I'm fine. Better than fine. I could do with a trip to the hotsprings, but other than that, I have nothing to complain about." She observed his gangly figure slouching, caving under its own weight, his arms merely dangling over the shoulders of his teammates. "What's wrong with the crybaby?"

"What do you think?" Shikamaru retorted, with more malice than she'd expected. "I nearly died after being drained of my chakra for that goddamn tree."

She was visibly shocked. "You...nearly...died?"

"Naruto's chakra cloak saved him," Choji mentioned.

"He looked terrible before that," Ino added. "His face was all gaunt and pale, as if he were starving."

Temari couldn't bear to imagine it. She was almost glad she wasn't there to witness it, as she probably would have fallen apart and been utterly useless afterwards. But at the same time, she felt an intense guilt that he had been on his deathbed and she had absolutely no idea.

"What's with that look?" Shikamaru grumbled.

"Huh?" Temari asked.

"You're grimacing," he clarified.

She quickly straightened out her expression. "You're a genius. Figure it out," she replied curtly.

"Don't tell me," he smirked. "You were gonna cry for me?"

"In your dreams, Nara," she scoffed. "That's your job."

He smiled a little, then he looked at her more solemnly. "Would you have cried if I'd been dead?"

She looked at him, bewildered. "Why would you say that?"

"Just posing a hypothetical," he murmured.

"Don't be so insensitive," she snapped. "We're still on a battlefield, you know."

"I'm the insensitive one?" he repeated incredulously.

"Both of you, stop it," Ino interrupted. "Now is not the time for one of your spats."

"Ino's right," Choji added. "Temari-san, maybe it's best if you go."

"With pleasure," she responded flatly, turning on her heel to leave.

"Later," was Shikamaru's apathetic dismissal. It was enough to trigger the prickling of tears in Temari's eyes; how could he let them part on such terms? How could she let that happen? In her mind, she had every right to walk away. She should feel justified in leaving him to breed bitterness on his own. But the smallest part of her was more upset that he didn't seem to see her at all. His eyes were always empty, his words hollow and unfeeling; in an almost masochistic way, he'd given her the cold shoulder and been aware of it. Did he realise how he was treating her? Probably not. But that did nothing to appease her hurt all the same.

"Hey."

She looked up, and there he was, his signature smirk replaced with a gentle expression that communicated the sincerity of his apology.

"How'd you end up in the medical tent?" he asked.

"Turns out I'm less fine than I thought I was," she shrugged. "Mild chakra exhaustion, that's all."

"Huh," he mused, thinking about his own near-death experience. "How ironic."

"Truly."

He sat beside her bed, eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"I know I was a little standoffish earlier. I shouldn't have talked to you like that."

"It's okay, Nara," she acquiesced. "I was being tactless. You've been through hell and back; and I'm not good at this kind of thing, you know?"

"None of us are," he replied. "Our generation had grown up without knowing war. So we're all dealing with it in our own ways."

Little did she know it, she was looking at him with kind, sympathetic eyes. "Your dad would be proud."

"Would be," he repeated quietly, refusing to meet her gaze. He felt his face crease with sadness and anger. "I wish he was here to tell me himself."

"He is," she insisted. "He lives on inside of you. It's your duty to continue his legacy."

That caught his attention. He looked up, and his eyes connected with hers. He could see the determination and belief burning deep into the brilliant teal of her irises. "I don't know if I'm ready for that," he admitted.

"I know you couldn't see yourself during this war, but you are made of everything a leader needs. I even found myself thinking at one point, "He could be a great Hokage", and I know you'd find the paperwork too troublesome and you're not one for attention or fame, but if you've led a whole division in a war, and you could lead a whole village if you wanted to, I'm confident you can lead your clan better than anyone could."

He stared at her for a moment, assimilating her words, realising that she had wholehearted faith in him; and it was moving to know. This woman, the cruelest kunoichi he'd ever met, was smiling at him with hope and trust and admiration written across her face. It almost scared him.

"Can I get that in writing?" he quipped.

She reached forward and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't be an ass about it, Nara."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled. "I guess I'll do it."

"You guess you'll do it?"

"On one condition."

She looked at him sceptically. "And what would that be?"

"I need you to be there with me, helping me through it all."

Her eyes widened with realisation and she felt an unstoppable blush flood her cheeks. She quickly straightened out her expression and said, "If you get complacent, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

He grinned back at her. "I wouldn't have it any other way."