A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ShikaTema fic, A Troublesome Love. Technically, this is my first attempt at fanfiction ever, so please go easy on me and forgive poor writing, spelling/grammatical errors (a lot of this was written late at night!) and general lack of quality in places. I originally began writing this for personal enjoyment as ShikaTema is one of my all-time favourite couples, and I had plenty of headcanons as the foundation. Eventually this fic became so long that I needed a place to put it, and seeing as I found so many other fans of this ship, I've decided to share it. I hope you like it and follow along!
I've tried to keep the story generally in line with canon, although I've taken a few creative liberties. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Naruto series (if I did, there would be way more ShikaTema screentime...).
As Temari turned to leave, an odd feeling washed through Shikamaru – one that he'd never felt before. He didn't have time to surmise whether it was good or bad, but all he knew was that it was unmistakably attached to the troublesome kunoichi walking away from him. Ever since he had been stuck as her escort during Suna and Konoha's organisation of the next Chunin exams, his life had been nothing but early starts, accompanying her to meetings and the occasional sightseeing excursion. They had never been in close quarters for a prolonged period of time, and frankly he had been glad. From his experience and observations, women were nothing but a drag, and the less time he had to spend with one, the better.
And yet as his time as Temari's daily companion drew to a close, he felt like there hadn't been enough. For the entirety of her stay, he repressed this growing sense of fondness not necessarily for her, but for her company. The only other females he needed to encounter on a regular basis were his mother and Ino, and while he enjoyed their presence in his life, he couldn't imagine spending an ordinary day out with either. The only other person he'd even consider for the demanding role of cloud-watching and wit-cracking would be Choji, but as much as he hated to admit it, he was vaguely curious about how the other half lived. And although he had initially been indifferent or even mildly frustrated at the prospect of playing tour guide and bodyguard to the world's most temperamental, hardheaded woman, she had proven herself a worthy wit-cracker with a surprising lack of femininity.
"I know you think girls are these delicate creatures who need men to do all their work for them," Temari had said on one particular walk through the village, "But I promise you, I could kick your ass in a heartbeat."
He sighed. "Still bitter about the Chunin Exams, huh?"
She punched him in the shoulder and undoubtedly he felt the impact. "Ow! Take a joke, woman." Shikamaru shook his head in disbelief.
"If you were a real man, you would've fought the match until the end instead of quitting while you were ahead. I don't care if it was the 'wise choice'. Real courage comes from standing even in the face of defeat, which is what I did and what you should've done, too."
He raised an eyebrow. "So you're the man, here?"
"Damn straight."
He rolled his eyes lazily. "I told you, even if I'd won, I would've lost every match after that. I didn't have enough chakra, I would've collapsed before I had time to even think of a strategy."
"But didn't you see the result? You still ended up being promoted to chunin despite forfeiting the match. It's all a means to an end. Stand in the face of defeat, Nara."
Her words had stuck with him, and they echoed in his head now as she approached the village border.
As if she could read his mind, Temari stopped in her tracks. She turned her head to the side slightly but chose not to meet his eyes. She called, "You're not a kid anymore, Nara. You should take your responsibilities more seriously and stop thinking of everything as a 'drag'. Have some real courage. Become a jonin like me. You're more than capable."
With that, she continued walking and Shikamaru, unable to fathom a single word in response, simply watched her disappear down the long open path towards the forest. That strange, unfamiliar feeling from earlier resettled within him; perhaps it was the shock of hearing her throw a thinly-veiled compliment in his direction, or the mounting realisation that he was free of her at last. But the longer he stared after her kimono-clad silhouette, it dawned on him that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to be free of her after all.