Chapter Forty-Eight

Temari chewed her lip cautiously as she listened to her father in the meeting room of the Sunagukare Embassy in Konoha. While father had always favored her as the responsible one, it had come at the price of being responsible for things no child should endure, sometimes on an unaccountable level. She had given suicidal orders to her classmates on several occasions – earning her a reputation for being a heartless bitch among most of her peers. Between hard decisions and the mask of uncaring harshness she wore, the Shrew of the Sand became a convenient identity to uphold. People could hate her all they wanted, and she didn't have to care.

Reality, and the events that had earned that identity, had been much more nuanced and anything but black and white. The first time, it had been a real threat; a group of genin had decided they would try to provoke Gaara in a very public place. Thankfully, Lord Minato had enhanced Gaara's seal at that point, or there would have been a bloodbath. Temari almost took pleasure in ordering them to clear out a bandit encampment that would have been challenging for a trio of Jonin. At least one of the teams she'd been ordered to send to their deaths had been plotting to defect to a group of bandits. While she hadn't regretted that order, Temari found it unnerving how easy it was becoming to give orders that resulted in death.

The next time was a group that had failed an important intelligence gathering mission here in Konoha shortly before the Chunin Exams. All three of them had been classmates her, at least one of them had been a semi-close friend. She had ordered them into the Chunin Exam knowing they weren't ready. All three had been beaten to death by an Amekagure team in retribution for the bloodbath that was the central clearing on day one. She had cried for days after finding out, but father insisted she get a hold of herself. She was a Suna ninja, and she would act like it.

"Temari, are you listening to me," Father's voice cut sharply.

"Yes, Father," she bowed her head slightly as she lied, using the opportunity to look him in the eyes. She never remembered him being a ray of sunshine, but something about his eyes caused her feet to chill and her toes to curl. She honestly couldn't tell if the man standing in front of her was father gone off the deep end or an imposter.

"Then perhaps you care to explain the plan again?" he chided. Unlike Lord Minato or some of the other clan elders she had met while in Konoha, father was almost always serious or furious. Even if it was an imposter, both behaviors were easy enough to mimic.

"Kankaro and I wear everyone else down as much as possible so Gaara can reach the finals. He'll release Shukaku and slaughter everyone present. After he is successful or suppressed, we extract him to the rendezvous point while out troops overrun the village.

"Excellent," his said in a viperish hiss.

"Father," she dared speak, "Certainly you can't be planning on Gaara getting all the way to the finals?"

"Why not," he gazed at her intently.

"Father, he's still not fully recovered from being poisoned; what if he gets knocked out?" she asked. Everything in the plan seemed to ride on Gaara, but it made zero tactical sense to let the plan hinge on one single thing going right.

"You question my judgement," he probed, looking most displeased.

If your wrong, your ass is grass. Father, on a tactical level, it's an incredible risk! I've seen the other genin in action; they are going to roll over. At least several of them could best Gaara, Kankaro, or myself! Certainly, there is a back up plan!"

"There is," a white-haired man with glasses strolled into the room. Temari recognized the man from several meetings Father had had before she left for Konoha. While outwardly projecting friendliness, the man was a sleezeball. "I will be on standby to neutralize the crowd should Gaara fail." He smile an oily smile, "Don't worry princess, we shall hit them like they've never seen. When this is over, the leaf will crumble under the weight of the sand."

Cocky little bastard. Temari couldn't understand how one man would be so confident that he could paralyze a crowd filled with trained shinobi villagers. Human arrogance wasn't enough to explain it. For that matter, nothing of this was explained. "Father," she asked in frustration, "I asked you once before why we were doing this, and you never answered. I'm asking you: why are we invading Konoha?"

"Why?" father asked. Temari could sweet droplets from her armpits running down her side. The man with glasses looked aghast that she would ask such a question.

"Yes," she cut back, "Dammit, I'm your daughter, and after all I've done for this operation, I think I've earned that!"

"Really?" Father rose from his chair at the end of the table. "You feel," he stalked toward her intently; Temari felt her bladder shrink reactively, "like owe you an explanation for everything."

"After getting Gaara and Kankuro through the woods, yes. Especially after the risks I've taken to get you information on what resistance you'll be facing." Temari felt her sass returning.

"Dear child," Father grinned wickedly, caressing her cheek, "you're growing so fast." Temari had to fight every instinct to push away his hand or run for the door. "But you see, you still not learned an important lesson," he whispered tracing his left hand on her cheek.

SLAP!

Temari saw red stars explode in her eyes as father backhanded in across the face. Before she could react, he swatted his right hand across the same cheek, pouring burning oil over sunburned skin. "You will never question my orders EVER AGAIN! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD, YOU UNGRATEFUL SHIT!"

Tears filled Temari's eyes, and she sobbed the way she had when father told her that mommy was dead. The heartless bastard! Before she could do or say anything, she froze still as Dad wound back his hand to hit her again. Dad's ring! He had taken off his wedding ring when mom died – too grief stricken to look at it again. However, years of wearing it had left a permanent tan line on his ring finger. Whomever it was imitating him had missed that feature. Really, how often do you look at a man's hands.

The wet slap caused a cascade of emotions as she fell out of her chair, sobbing. Father was dead; there was no doubting it now. Whether or not her siblings joined him remained to be seen. The thought of the horrible things and the lives soon to be lost by this odious man's actions twisted on her heart.

In the darkness, there was a tiny release. Father was dead, and this man was an imposter. All of her actions she had taken to now – feeding false information to her handlers, giving up their plan of action, and actively plotting against her own village – were now justified. Her brother was the true Kazekage now, and she'd give her life to see him free of the burden of being their father's son.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she sobbed into her hands.

"You're sorry, of course you're sorry! Now take your poisonous thought and GO!" the imposter boomed.

Temari stumbled out of the conference room, past security, and into the night air of Konoha. Like a breath of air after breathing toxic fumes, the cool October evening the burning slap mark on her cheek. I don't need him! I don't need anyone! I'm the Shrew of the Sand! I'm… so alone! Temari found her way to one of many parks in the village, collapsed on a bench, and continued to cry. She could go back to the hotel. And do what? Let Gaara and Kankaro see you like this? Have Gaara lose control and blow the whole plan! She couldn't go back. She had no friends here, no one she could talk to.

"Hushaby, my good baby, sleep," she could hear mom's voice singing in her head. Tears forced past her defenses at the memory of Mom, what little she remembered. "Hushaby, my good baby, sleep," the words reentered her mind, not entirely welcomed. Of all the people to think about, him!? Her mind wandered back to the one person she had had intelligent conversation with. In any other moment, principle would dictate that she not humor the thought. Screw principle! Being principled would mean following that imposter's orders blindly. Think for yourself, dammit! Temari climbed off the bench and in search of a café with a payphone.

On a night like tonight, Shikamaru could sit here and stare at her all night. Her face was beautiful white, blemished only by nature. He adjusted the eyepiece of his telescope, staring into the beauty of heaven. With careful, delicate strokes, he shaded the image with charcoal on paper. The October full moon smiled back at him, no judgement, no snide comments. While he was no artist, he was not half-bad at sketching and tracing. Another few clean strokes…

"Shikamaru! Dinner!" his mom shouted. His makeshift observation post on the balcony of his room sadly did not provide the solitude he yearned for. "Shikamaru!"

"I'll be right down, Mom!" he called back.

"Dammit, son, you said that twenty minutes ago!" she hollered back.

What a pain! A check of his watch indicated that he had let twenty minutes or so pass since she last badgered him about coming downstairs. "Shikamaru!" she exclaimed again.

"I said, I'm coming!"

"Phone!" Mom completed.

Phone? Who the hell would be calling me now? Shikamaru couldn't tell why, but an ominous sensation followed him down from his roost. As he walked by the dining room, he could smell miso-glazed salmon and vegetables. Despite the heavenly smell, he'd lost his appetite as he approached the phone. "Hello," he picked up the receiver.

"Shikamaru!" The voice was so uncharacteristic he didn't recognize it for a second.

"Temari?" he wrinkled his face, half-expecting the caller to correct him.

"Shikamaru… I… I need to see you, right now!" she heaved. Dear god, is she crying!

"Temari, what's wrong?" he asked, feeling strangely concerned. A whole array of nightmare scenarios played out in his head – Gaara backing out of the plan, her treachery being discovered, her being tortured to death slowly – "Temari!" he asked again desperately.

"Please, I need to see you, I… I need to talk…" she choked over the line.

"Where are you?" he tried to keep his voice down. Mom and Dad were listening in from the dining room.

"At a payphone in a café," she cried, "I can't stay here, though, I can't be seen like this!"

Something was seriously off. The troublesome girl had to be in serious shit to be calling, actually wanting to talk to him, to see him. It could be a trap. Guilt weighed on him at the thought. She could have taken him down at any number of intervals up until now. Are you going to suspect her forever? "Temari," you remember the meeting place we agreed to?"

"The orphan's location, yes," she sniffled.

"Go there, I can be there in ten minutes!" The line went dead.

"Shikamaru," Mom brandished a wooden spoon, "What is going on?" Her demeanor suggested he'd better answer.

"I'm not sure, but it's important, Mom, I have to go," he said

"Go? Go where! You are my son! You will tell me why you're ruining family dinner!"

"Mom it's important!" he shot back, "It's intelligence related," he signed. "It's something I can't talk about."

Dad walked into the hallway next to Mom. He took a look at Shikamaru and nodded, "Go on, son."

Shikamaru didn't even bother with a jacket. He ran thought the side alleys near the Nara Compound until he came past the Uchiha Compound and toward the Hokage's mansion. Even at this hour of the night, the office window burned bright, indicating that Lord Fourth was working late. Just past the mansion, he came to his destination, the field outside the academy.

The bright moon overhead cast shadows throughout the field. Normally he'd love the long shadows – they gave him an edge in battle. But tonight they filled him with dread. Where the hell is she! His eyes scanned furiously, trying to discern any shape that might be a female genin from Suna. From the corner of his vision, he saw movement.

The orphan's swing twisted slowly under the shadow of great tree it hung from. Temari's arms and legs hung limply from the swing as the ropes unwound and the inertia of her lifeless mass carried it around to rewind. Oh my god! "TEMARI!" voice echoed off every surface on the cold, October night.

The swing came to an abrupt stop, "Way to go, genius," a sullen voice greeted him as he slide to a stop, "If someone was watching us, they'd know who I was." There was no follow up to her barb. It was a cheap shot with no follow through behind it.

"Temari, what's wrong?" he huffed as his eyes focused. She wore a hooded sweatshirt over her mission gear, several sizes larger than her slender frame needed. Shikamaru also observed that the oversized hood hid most of her face.

"Not here," she darted her head side to side, "is there somewhere private we can go?" Her voice was ghostly. He could tell it was her, but something was wrong. She sounded injured, deflated. Even during her short episode of hysterics when she first joined them in the bunker, she hadn't sounded this dead inside.

Shikamaru's eyes wandered from her to the academy. There is always there. The thought of letting her in didn't sit well with him, but he soon turned his eyes back to Temari. She wasn't quite shivering, and he never intended to share his safe space with anyone. "This way," he offered a hand, and she surprised him by taking it. Her palms and knuckles were raw and calloused, much as his own were, from years of training. But past her knuckles, her skin was smooth as silk as he walked her to a side entrance to the Academy.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her free hand moved to her cheek. Temari kept her head low to hide her face.

"Somewhere I didn't expect to take you," he used a key he'd been gifted years earlier. The metal door opened to an interior stairwell, and they climbed the five flights of stairs to reach the top floor of the academy. At the top landing, he rounded another flight of stairs.

"I thought there were only five floors?"

"There are," he answered, "This is something different." He guided her up the accessway. By now only the red exit sign illuminated the top landing. The dark metal door stood like a barrier to entry, a reminder that if he let her in here, he would be admitting her to his sanctum sanctorum. He unlocked the door and went through, flipping the light switch.

Cool, grey light illuminated the large domed room. Hello old friend, it's been a while. Shikamaru smiled, noting that everything was as he left it. The circular rows of reclined chairs were immaculately clean, still smelling faintly of detergent. Near the control panel, the exercise mat he left up here was still where he'd rolled it up.

"What is this place?" Temari starred. Shikamaru caught the vague hint of redness in her cheeks.

"Planetarium. We use it to teach celestial navigation," he walked past a row of reclined chairs to the control panel, flipping on the master power switch. The sound of the projector warming up sounded musically in his head.

"How do you have access to it?" Temari asked, curious.

"When I was bored in class, I'd sneak up here between uses. The controls were simple enough. The astronomer that runs it caught me napping under the stars in here one day. He was impressed that I would come here on my off time; he gifted me a key to the stairwell and the planetarium so I could come in whenever I wanted to." Shikamaru made several adjustments to the machine, and soon, pinpricks of light formed on the grey dome. A flip of a switch, and the lights the room faded out until only the artificial starlight and the control panel illuminated them. He stepped away from the panel and unrolled the old exercise mat before laying down on it, "I sometimes come up here to think when I can't go cloud watching."

Temari crossed her arms, the loose sleeves of her sweater drooping like loose elephant skin, "So, what are you thinking about?"

What am I thinking about? Shikamaru pondered as he looked at her with the stars in the background. His heartrate began increasing slowly and his toes curled nervously in his boots. "I'm trying to figure out what led you to call me of all people," he folded his hands behind his head, "to just talk. Care to enlighten me?"

Temari slowly lowered herself to sit next to him on the mat, "I don't," she shook her head, "I don't know where to start."

"You can start by telling me what's with the oversized hoodie. That isn't just camouflage; you're concealing something from me. I get the feeling that is what sent you here?"

"Right as always," she sighed melancholically. Temari pulled back the hood.

Even the dim light, he could see the angry slap mark on her cheeks. Shikamaru jolted upright, putting a hand out toward her, "Temari, who did that to you!"

"Father," she cried, "or at least, whomever is pretending to be father!" tears turned to sobs. She curled into a ball and began wailing uncontrollably.

Ah dammit! Shikamaru was awkward enough around girls. During his time at the academy he'd been anything but popular with the kunoichi in training. A few girls truly treated her like poison, but most just ignored him. And then came this girl! "Temari, come on, don't cry like that," he inched closer.

Temari unexpectedly collapsed into him, putting her arms around him like a sailor grasping to a buoy for dear life. She was upset, she was vulnerable, and he had no idea what to do. "Shikamaru, hold me, please!" she sobbed. Cogs and gears that drove his mind jammed, unable to process the command. Nevertheless, he did as requested, feeling the warmth of her bleeding into him. His arms awkwardly encircled her.

"Temari, are you sure?"

"Yes," she paused her sobs, "Father has a permanent tan-line on his wedding finger. When the imposter slapped me, it wasn't present!" She clutched him. "My father is dead, Shikamaru!"

It wasn't unexpected, but at least they had confirmation now. "Why did you ask me to talk to, wouldn't your brothers be a better choice?" he asked nervously.

"What could I tell them?" she stared him in the face angrily, "The man impersonating dad slapped the taste out of my mouth! Oh yeah," she sassed, "that would have gone over great, especially with Gaara."

Despite her apparent anger, she didn't pull back, "I, I'm… I'm sorry, Temari," he sighed, shaking his head, "I'm not good at this." He put his arms around her and wiped her tears away.

Before either could say anything, a sound came from the stairwell – footsteps. Shit! Their only exit was down the stairs. "Someone knows we're here!" he whispered harshly. All the horrible worst-case scenarios began playing in his head. They would be found out and probably killed.

"Shikamaru, kiss me!" she hissed.

"WHAT!?"

"Make it convincing, they'll just think we're fooling around, hurry!"

Shikamaru had one day fantasized about having a girlfriend and sneaking in here. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine doing this with a princess of the sands. The things I do for my village!

He looked her in the eyes, teal, pleading eyes, illuminated by fake starlight. He brought his lips to hers, hesitating at first and fully expecting her to slap him for even trying. He pulled back, feeling the strange, drugging effect of having put his lips on her. Well, go for broke! He remembered Naruto going on for hours about how world-rocking kissing Hinata had been on his birthday. Shikamaru kissed with more pressure this time, his hands slowly tracing up her back.

Temari unexpectedly tugged him in closer, her hands firmly massaging his shoulders. Shikamaru's head began spinning as his heart beat out of control. All pretext of control gone, he pressed gently to open her mouth, her tongue slid to greet his. Shikamaru was in orbit among the stars.

"Shikamaru!" two familiar voices called. OH GOD NO! He turned to see Mom and Dad as the lights slowly intensified.

Temari had never let herself go to the waterworks so thoroughly around anyone, and she couldn't explain why. Shikamaru did truly suck at being supportive, but at least he was trying. A for effort, boy. Despite his shortcomings, he was the best person for the job of emotional crutch at the moment.

The sound of footsteps caused her empty stomach to tighten and her bladder to clench. Shit! Best case scenario, it was a security guard and they'd be in minor trouble. Worst case scenario: one of her handlers had followed her, and she was about to be exposed as being a double agent. She'd be executed, and they wouldn't leave poor Shikamaru alive.

Think! There is always a way out! She didn't have her fan or any weapons, and it was unlikely Shikamaru was carrying. Right now, she'd take any scolding for hanky-panky over a slow, torturous death. That's it! "Shikamaru, kiss me!" she whispered excitedly.

"WHAT?!" he looked wide-eyed and dumbstruck. Typical boy! I bet he's never been kissed!

"Make it convincing, they'll just think we're fooling around, hurry!" she could hear the steps getting louder. A moment of hesitation, and he nervously brought his lips to hers, withdrawing to assess, and he planted a firmer, warmer kiss on her mouth. The whirlpool of emotions she'd felt after discovering her father was, indeed, and imposter suddenly froze in disbelief as he pushed her lips apart. Instinctively, she greeted his entry, and soon they were intertwined, his hands massaging the knots in her back.

No…. no… nonononono…impossible! Shikamaru was actually good at this? "Mmmm…," she moaned as she felt herself tingling all over. She had always hoped for a memorable first kiss, but she'd never expected this. The gods have a cruel sense of humor.

"Shikamaru!?" a pair of voices came from the doorway as the lights came up. Rather than a group of Sunagakure ANBU come to kill her, it seemed his parents had come to kill him as he pulled back.

"Mom, Dad?!" Shikamaru's voice squeaked. Temari had to suppress a nervous laugh. He almost was cute when his voice cracked.

"All right, this is way too much trouble for me," Shikamaru's father turned and walked away.

"Son?" his mom stared at the two.

"Mother, this isn't what it looks like!" he protested.

"Uh huh," she said skeptically, "You know if you wanted to make out with your girlfriend, you didn't have to make up that story about being on intelligence business!" his mother began laughing.

Temari, herself, began finding it harder to not join in the laughter. "Lady Nara, you're taking this surprisingly well."

"I did not know he had it in him," she glared at her son with a wicked grin.

"Mom!"

"Although getting caught on Academy property could destroy your career, son," she continued, "There's that lovely spot on our property where your father and I –"

"MOM, I DON'T NEED TO KNOW THAT!"

Temari did begin fitful laughter as Shikamaru squirmed back away. "Lady Nara," she chuckled, "this is most unexpected!"

"Indeed, I was worried would never display interest, girl or boy, much less that he would charm someone of such standing!" Lady Nara turned back to Shikamaru, "When you are done doing what you said you are not doing, perhaps you would like to invite the princess over to the house for dinner; I'll keep something warm for you two!" She turned on her heels, shutting off the lights before leaving.

Once again, they were starlight, and Temari began laughing nervously at the massive kunai she and Shikamaru had just dodged. She fell back on her back, staring dizzily at the ceiling of stars as she laughed. After a few nervous moments, she stopped – Shikamaru fell eerily silent. Her eyes darted from the ceiling to the curled up mass of shadow that sat beside her. "Shikamaru, are you all right?"

He remained curled up, speechless. She sat up next to him, putting a hand on his back, "Shikamaru?"

"Temari… I… I'm…I'm sorry," he choked. He sounded truly despondent.

"Why the long face? I'm sorry if I laughed along with your mom," she fought the urge to laugh again. He didn't answer, "Hey, you're really upset, aren't you?"

"What gave you that idea?" he buried his face in his knees.

What's gotten into him? He didn't discover dead parents. So, we kissed, big deal. Unless… Her mind wandered as she thought about the boy's insecurity after walking in on her in the bathhouse or the many times she brought it up since. She thought about his awkward heroics at the lake, and his predictable negative reaction to having to take on the cover story of being a couple. Could it be?

She curiously reached under his chin, lifting him eye to eye with her. "Temari, what are you…" he froze staring her in the eyes. Bingo!

"You," her lips stretched, "actually like me!" She cracked a huge grin, tipping her top lip.

"Temari, I…" he said breathlessly. He didn't need to answer. After having many suitors and rejecting all of them, she found him oddly charming.

"You, really do?" she tapped him on the nose and laugh.

"And let me guess, you never want to see me again after knowing that?" he pulled away, curling back up.

Temari thought about the list of things she'd gotten involved in since meeting Shikamaru: espionage, treason, mortal peril at every corner. You've gotten into this much trouble, why not add to it at this point. "Far from it," She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and brought her mouth back to his, tasting his kiss like they hadn't had the crude interruption. I'll never be able to look at a planetarium the same ever again. She forced him back onto his back.

While clearly alarmed, he didn't seem to mind, "Temari…" he whispered breathlessly.

"Shikamaru," she placed a finger on his lips, "I don't know where this is going, but I have a request."

"Name it," his eyes bugged open wide in shock.

"Can we grab dinner with your folks, like your mom offered; I'm starving!" She giggled before irresponsibly kissing him again.

Author's notes: Hey everyone, thank you for reading if you made it this far. A special shout out to my wife, who supplied some of the more interesting commentary by Lady Nara. Stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you all next week.