Shikamaru loves Suna. He loves the sunsets, how they fill the whole horizon without a single tree or mountain to obstruct the view. He loves the resilience of the plants, the village, and the people, all of which persisted through the desert without rebelling against it. He loves the sun and how it shines brighter and longer here, lengthening his shadows while keeping the darkness away. And most of all he loves Suna because it is the place that created her. It is so deeply woven into who she is as to be all but inseparable. Without Suna, there would be no Temari (at least not the one that he knows) and he considers it his greatest blessing that Temari, his Temari, does in fact exist.
Shikamaru hates Suna. He hates the absolutely cloudless skies and the emptiness that the uninterrupted expanse of blue leaves in him. He hates the way the sand gets everywhere, how it is impossible to stay clean, and how it sticks to him weeks after he leaves. He hates the harsh, abrasive ways of the people, how they push and scratch at your soul as persistently as the sand-laced wind pounds your back. And most of all he hates Suna because it is the place that created her. It is a part of her and it calls to her far more than any other place, any person, ever could. Even him. It is the place she always returns to, no matter what it means leaving behind.
Temari loves Konoha. She loves how the sunsets seem to last forever, slowly dipping behind the distant trees, the clouds causing the colors to mix in strange ways. She loves the friendly, easy way of the people, how they accepted her and even seemed to love her no matter where she came from. She loves the breeze, how it gently caresses skin and lightly carries leaves and flower petals to some unknown destination. And most of all she loves Konoha for what its becoming. It is the home of her closest friends and of many of her happiest memories and of him. Shikamaru is only person who has ever been able to pull her in and Konoha is the place she can be with him.
Temari hates Konoha. She hates how the harsh winter persists far too long into the spring, chilling deep into her bones and making it hard to move and breath. She hates the naivety that encompasses the people, causing little kids to dream too big and, invariably, fall too hard. She hates the fragility of life that is so evident in the gentle flowers and easy smiles that she knew wouldn't last a day where she came from. And most of all she hates Konoha for what its becoming. It is a place she returns to just as often as she returns to Suna. When she sets out on the road, no matter the direction she travels, she feels as though she is leaving home. And Temari doesn't know how she is supposed to live stuck between two very distant, very different homes.