Here's entry nine in The Language of Flowers series, featuring Temari of Suna.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Nasturtium means patriotism.
The golden orange poppy-like flowers are the symbolic flowers of Suna. This particular species of nasturtium is not hardy enough to survive in the desert; it must be cultivated in greenhouses.
This is what Temari contemplates as she stands over the pot of nasturtium flowers. Temari is an amateur botanist; in her small greenhouse, she grows what will survive in a desert greenhouse: flowers that are hardy and durable, not necessarily physically attractive. In her greenhouse there is desert mallow, desert lilies, loud orange Mariposa lilies, evening primrose, ghost flowers, yucca, and many other flowers and plants.
Nasturtium, Temari knows, stands for loyalty, but what she does not know is why a desert village where the plant can not even survive on its own chose it for their botanical symbol.
Temari has for most of her life felt little kinship with Sunagakure. It seemed like the world was out to get her and her family from the beginning. The Wind daimyo favored another village over his own, and this forced her father to take drastic action. This "drastic action" entailed sealing a demon inside of her baby brother and killing her mother in the process.
The first twelve years after that were utter hell.
Temari didn't have too many friends as a child. Actually, she didn't have any friends as a child. She bore the taint of the Shukaku; she was far too close to Gaara for anyone's comfort. She was her father's daughter, guilty by association with the man who had made such a mess of things (All in all, her father wasn't the worst ruler in the world; he actually made more decisions that benefited Suna than hurt; however, the only thing most people will ever remember him for is the sealing of the Shukaku in his own infant son).
If the village was going to shun Temari, than Temari didn't want anything to do with the village either. It was an arrangement that both found agreeable.
Then, something happened. If she remembered correctly, it was just after Temari had graduated the academy.
She hadn't always wanted to be a kunoichi, but after finding out that the only way she could ever hope to wield her mother's fan was to become one, her enthusiasm for the shinobi life elevated considerably. Fighting alongside other Sand shinobi did something to her. It sparked some fire.
This fire was slow to burn, and for a few years only smoldered, rather than flamed.
Temari hates to admit it, but in the matter of feeling her loyalty to the village grow, she was following her brothers' leads. Even Gaara started to feel kinship to Suna before she did. But she was quick to catch up with her little brothers.
Temari knows what it is to feel loyalty; she finally understands what it's like to feel that fire burn in her heart. The fire is caustic and sweet; it sometimes reaps more sorrow than joy, and sometimes it reaps nothing at all and the villagers seem to be just as wary of her as ever, but she marches on. If her brothers, Gaara especially who has more reason to hate his village than anyone else, can persevere through the waves of hate, fear and all-around bad feelings, than who is she to say that she can't?
The final rocks fall into place when she is watching her brother be installed as Kazekage. For once, the people seem happy with the little redhead, and Temari feels like everything is going alright for once.
Tsunade standing beside her whispers, "He looks happy, doesn't he?"
Temari smiles and nods, because for once in his life, Gaara does look happy.
Temari feels more kinship to her village than ever as she rearranges one of the nasturtium vases in the antechamber as dozens of dignitaries, nobles, and high-ranking politicians fill the room, and doesn't even notice when she accidentally takes one with her, twirling the orange flower in her hand.
This might not be quite as in tune as the last few, but I like it for Temari's first entry.