Illogical
Written by: taxiphobia
Disclaimer: Naruto and Naruto: Shippuuden are owned by one genius man, whose name you should know, whom I hope to marry and influence into imputing my personal plot desires in the future. :D
Notes: Set in original Shippuuden timeline; Inspired by fluffy oneshots concerning the 'love-hate' theme of popular pairings; Rewritten and edited innumerable times; the authoress is not to be blamed for the excessive usage of large words that may expand your vocabulary. A dictionary is recommended.
"We're still so young, desperate for attention"
Outwardly, Temari supposed, Shikamaru feigned the strong apathy portrayed so often toward the buxom blonde. Below the unfathomable regions of his brain, or maybe his heart, the lazy façade, and seldom-seen, yet signature languid smirk, there was love. Ah love, the unexplainable emotion possessed by each fraction of mankind(1) at least one point in his lifetime.
The blonde, she was informed, an egocentric, and Narcissistic—to the point of being Narcissus(2) himself—haughty, and downright selfish member of his own Team 10, and he, a 'brilliant, but lazy' strategist were not only in love, but engaged.
Forcefully engaged, information she knew not of as of yet, but engaged nonetheless.
Call her a romantic, or were these feelings only cultivated now?, Temari found no such amorous intimacy as first contemplated when the message was delivered; the unexpected invitation postmarked from Konohagakure.
Details of the exquisitely lavish wedding, strictly the bride's idea, written in fantastic script then left the kunoichi in morbid astonishment.
She saw nothing, no subtle hints of romance, or anything of the like for that matter, during her first five days in the village mentioned formally. With the Chunnin Exams as her reason, Temari expected no one to figure out the true intentions behind this supposedly 'short' stay.
The likelihood, nearly nonexistent, of some smart soul figuring this out when even she had no idea of her emotions, due to Temari's never admitting succumbing to the evils of…jealousy, perhaps? Still oblivious to these feelings, she rather not elaborate.
So what, then, could have possibly compelled Nara Shikamaru to propose to Yamanaka Ino? It was madness—the apocalypse—her brothers' joke, notwithstanding Gaara never partaking in such pranks, but surely not a wedding, and surely not a serious one!
Having no choice but to seek the self-proclaimed 'wisdom' of Konoha's leading gossips, Temari reluctantly paid the three a visit. This done, she acquired basic Konoha citizen knowledge concerning (but not limited to) secretive details of the marriage, and some of the engagement.
The entire village, it appeared, bubbled with an apparent excitement(3) in preparation for the date. The prime example of this, and by far most irksome in her five day stay, was the maid of honor. Her happiness reached its apex with her rival's (the bride's) ferocity over the shared crush diminishing, for it had to, with the wedding.
"I heard the engagement was super-romantic!" exclaimed one of the gossips, a brunette, brown-eyed—overall plain—kunoichi. The usual amount of giggles ensued.
"What do you mean?" Temari enquired, startled more than she permitted to appear, the spurious fact reprising in her mind, over and over, until rendering her comfortable with modifying the question, "How did he propose?"
"Super-romantically, of course," replied the brunette.
"Geez, Temari-san, you don't know a thing about romance, do you?" asked the leading gossip, for, with her rival gone, she held the much sought-after position.
The third member, a coolly benign, pale-eyed beauty, gave a quick nod.
After a moment of silence, Temari's hazel glare penetrating all girlish defenses, a discussion of rumors formed, and, at intervals (pauses), there were high-pitched giggles. Temari listened, intently and engrossed at first, however incomprehensible the prattle appeared.
Her attention drifted to the queerest areas of the little café, once the conversation grew unbearable to her ears, that is, 'super-romantic,' it was sickening.
She would have—should have—remained ignorant by staying home, squandering away in the virile(4) atmosphere her brothers emitted so well. She was dying for this familiar testosterone, an intelligent companion and conversation, though mainly the former. Any male, or intelligent female, would suffice. Maybe, in this situation of disparity, maybe even…
"Shikamaru!" squealed Sakura, the leading gossip (in the case where the reader finds previous descriptions ambiguous), blithely rising. Eyeing Ino, who, as fate may have it, entered the café but a minute ago, she continued emphatically, "Well Ino, I suppose you're craving that much needed alone time with your fiancé."
"Hey, I never—!"
"And Temari-san," the 'cherry blossom' kunoichi started, emerald eyes meeting the Suna nin's.
Temari, without responding in any manner to the static glare, in fact, nearly oblivious to it, remained seated. Her eyes scanned the small restaurant, maybe to unknowingly escape the stare, halting in sight of Shikamaru. The subtle gaze, though harmless, was hindered by a mere glance—piercing as it was—in response.
Immediately and involuntarily, a streak of scarlet shone on her fair cheeks—forcibly—also part instinct—causing Temari to divert her attention, returning to somewhat bemused eyes. The tinge of deep red now a nearly imaginary pink, lasted, an observant spectator would see, a second at most.
"I saw that," Sakura remarked softly.
Temari kept mum.
A sly and mischievous smile crept into the former's lips. "Hey, Shikamaru! Temari was—"
Impulsively, the Suna nin grabbed the nearest filled coffee cup, hands reeling backwards. The victim screamed, grabbing attention and incorrect contemplations from fellow customers.
Sakura's scream, unknowingly ambushed the 'attacker' in a consequential way; her grasp weakened, and the mug slipped out, amidst a final, violent reeling.
Intended for the leading gossip, the coffee cup, showering its contents, sailed in the wrong direction. All kunoichi watched, captivated by the strangeness of it all, as the mug bonded, for a singular second, with Shikamaru's head, emanating a loud CLONK!
No time was taken by the new victim to acknowledge this innocent mishap, or Temari's fuming presence.
"Ow," he heartlessly murmured.
(An eruption of witchlike laughter pealed through the silence of the café. The gossipers followed suit, with giggles.)(5)
At this rare opportunity, Temari slid past bewildered customers, who were focused on the scene and not its doer, out the door and into Konoha twilight. Never once did she think—'Ignorance is bliss,' in this case—that his eyes had been, and may well still be, on her.
Endnotes:
(1) - 'fraction' refers to 'human being,' therefore, each 'human being' in 'mankind' has experienced love at least once.
(2) - From the story of the Greek hero Narcissus who, in most versions of the story, fell in love with the reflection of himself in the water of a pond. He was later then turned into a flower by the gods.
(3) -"…seemingly bubbled with an apparent excitement" is repetition to convey just how happy Sakura was that she didn't mind this simple folly.
(4) - Virile – masculine
(5) - Being the original mastermind of the gossips, whatever Ino did was 'law' and always followed; "witchlike laughter" is Ino's
Okay.
I've finally gotten around to posting this story. Go me. There are a few things worth mentioning (to prevent confusion on your part), such as the fact that this story is written in somewhat of where tVictorian style. I say 'somewhat,' because of the few references to pop culture (i.e. the Panic! At The Disco quote, the 'gossips'), but I guess that's just my style now.
Although I have a vague idea his story is going, I'm taking requests (of all sorts--desired pairings, scenes, whatever else you can think of), ideas, suggestions, constructive complaints, flames, etc., etc. My goal is to respond to every review this story gets, whether it be directly or indirectly as imputting your--yes your--idea into following chapters.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Illogical. This Author's Note could get long as the story progresses, or the plot thickens!, and I'll probably be answering questions here.
Remember; reviews make me happy, criticism makes me happier, and flames make me jump for joy like a mutilated bunny, though you'd rather not see the latter.