Yay! So I pumped this out quick, excited to write the idea. I hope you're excited to read.

Beta'd by my favorite mother, Jenny :) Love you

~*Tenten POV*~

I woke up at 3 in the morning that night, drenched in cold sweat. Judging by the disarray of the bed sheets, I had been thrashing wildly. Every night I would have a different nightmare, each so vivid I had to pause to catch my breath. The way it replayed over and over, branded on my mind in picture-perfect clarity kept me from sleep for weeks. They were too real. I could feel in my gut I could very soon break under them.

When gasps for air stopped tearing at my chest, the only noise in the house was the silence buzzing in my ears. It was madding. I needed action; I needed noise- anything to distract me from my haunting dreams.

I decided I needed to get out of the house. Swiftly and quietly, so I didn't wake Temari, I slipped into sweats for jogging. My sister, Temari, didn't know about my nightmares at all, though she guessed something was wrong. She was just that good, plus, she knew me better than anyone else. We were both raised together when Anko, our guardian, took us in. She was as close to a mother as we'd ever get, but after we got older, she kind of left us on our own, though she still cared about and checked up on us. We didn't mind, especially since when she was really young when she decided to help us, essentially wasting her youth, though she never thought about it that way. She deserved to be able to branch out and live now.

I tip-toed out of the dark and into energy of that late night feeling, jogging through the neighborhood while trying to shake off what I saw. I felt a little better with the comfortably familiar thud of my sneakers on the sidewalk and pulse loud enough to hear and strong enough to feel in my wrists and chest. The taste of the crisp fall air cleansed my bad visions.

It felt good to be active. I always felt like I had to be moving, doing something. Bearing to sit still for more than 5 second just wasn't possible for me. I liked activity, and usually I'd spend my time at the shooting range, but it didn't open for hours, so running seemed the best back-up.

I thought so at least, before I came to an abrupt stop. Terror zinged through me as what I was witnessing registered in my mind. Illuminated in the harsh white of the streetlight, I saw a woman bloody and battered lying unnaturally on the pavement. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, vacant and unblinking. The man that stood above her had blinding rage written all over his face and in the way he clenched his fingers around the blade he carried, his knuckles waxy with the force. Its shiny chrome dipped crimson drops on her cheek between thrusts as he dug it into her already pulpy side.

I'd seen these visions before, but I always dismissed them as trick of the light, my own imagination, but none of them had been this clear, this disturbing, this violent. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push it away. The pressure of it dug into the front of my forehead as my fingernails dug into my hairline. I drew more blood. Just what the moment called for. The pressure of it was too much, building up even in my throat.

I screamed. I couldn't stop as my knees gave out under me. I knew somewhere in all the muddled perspective that it wasn't real, that screaming would only draw attention to the crazy girl waking up half the neighborhood before the sun had even risen with her own questionable illusions. The problem was I didn't know what else to do. The scene unhinged me, alarming me in a way I really didn't know how to deal with it. So screaming was all I had. It was uncontrollable.

It felt like so long before a blanket was draped over my shoulders, firm warm hands holding it in place on my shoulders. A man's voice, smooth, but commanding ordered me to open my eyes. I was afraid, but something about the voice was familiar, forcing me to trust it. When I finally looked again, the blood and bodies vanished, leaving me half drunk with relief.

I looked back at the man as he coaxed me to move and come into his house. It was Mr. Huuyga—my history teacher who Temari and I secretly called Tresemé because he had such long well-cared for hair, silky smooth brown locks halfway downs his back, always sleek and perfectly in place. It was every girl's dream, and that was only one of his appeals. I sort of had a mini-crush on him. Funny how instead of focusing on my situation, I was more worried about him seeing me in my beat up sweats. Not attractive. I vowed to start jogging in party clothes, but quickly realized the flaw in running in heels. With that train of thought I was pretty sure had gone into shock.

"Would you like coffee?" I nodded in response as he pulled out a seat at his kitchen table. His house was about 3 houses down from where I had my mini-breakdown. I thought it was strange that while I was screaming like a maniac, he was the only one who even checked to see what was happening, even though he wasn't the closest.

He didn't push me for answers right away which I appreciated, especially as the images started resurfacing to bother me. I opted for observing him rather than dwelling. He was a much nicer view. He was young, 22 or 23, straight out of college, and smoking hot. His light skin was stretched over well defined muscles and strange eyes— there was really no way to describe them, a weird barely lavender color and without pupil. The paleness of it all contrasted with his dark superstar hair. He waited until he sat down across from me, passing a mug full of my coffee before questioning me.

"What did you see?" He asked. His face was always intense, but right then it rolled off him, ticking my skin with it. That didn't mean I was about to give myself up. I had Temari to think about. I didn't really fear for myself as much as her. If my insanity got out, taking me away, I'd be leaving her. I always had to be with her, for the longest time we were all each other had.

"Nothing." It was a lame excuse, after all, I certainly didn't scream for nothing, much less cry. I never cried, not that he knew that, but everyone knew I was a tough cookie. I sipped my coffee, hoping it would calm me.

"I'm serious Tenten, I know all about you. I know about the nightmares, the visions out of the corner of your eyes, random flashes of insight. You don't have to hide it. I can help." "Help" —the last thing I wanted.

"What would the school think of teachers creeping on their students? Seriously dude, you need to back off." I had a feeling that denying it wouldn't get me anywhere. He had resolve and no-nonsense plastered all over him. He wasn't going to be swayed by my weak attempts at persuasion.

"Really, I've seen this happening before. I don't want this happening to you too. Please, let me help you." He said, but with a peculiar passion. It seemed more than teacherly concern, like the whole situation was something personal to him. I regretted not being able to give him a chance to fix it this time.

"Thanks, but I don't need your help. Help is that last thing I need." I chugged down the rest of what was in my mug. Very lady-like I know, but I was dying to get out of there. If it let me stay with Temari, I would face insanity head on. He underestimated my resolve.

"Please, Tenten, you're being ridiculous. At least stay home from school for the day." But that would be alerting Temari to something, wouldn't it?

"Will do, Tresemé," I lied, jogging out of there and back home. My mind was reeling with so many confusing things. What did I see, how did he know? I had no answers and no longer any distraction. It was agonizing, time ticking by twice as slow. All I could do was waiting for Temari to wake up.

~*Temari POV*~

When I slumped into my kitchen that morning, Tenten was already perfectly groomed. Her hair was up in its regular buns and she was wearing her usual skinny jeans-band tee ensemble with just a touch of make-up. She barely needed much anyway, she was gorgeous. She paid more attention to how she looked than me, simply because she like attention, and boy, did she demand it. It almost made me feel bad about wearing sloppy shirts and sweats everyday- almost. I liked looking nice, but in the face of waking up and making the effort in the morning? I'll take my sleep, thanks. I hated mornings too much to get into fixing how I look.

"You ready?" Tenten bounced up, grabbing her school stuff. I looked out of the window. It was windy today. The sign of it super-charged me with anticipation. I was dying to get out into it.

"Yeah." I answered trying not to bolt for the door. I opened it and passed though, knowing what I was going to feel next.

Then I hear it—the divine whistling of the wind in my ears, a chorus of hums and chimes. It coursed through me like a part of my body, filling me with what I didn't know I had room for. Wind poured over my skin, touching me with the pure essence of life. It made me feel more alive than ever, beside myself in bliss.

I saw Tenten's lips form words out of the corner of my eyes, but I couldn't hear it through the sensory- overload. I struggled to break through it all, to be able to hear her, but I was too wrapped up in what the simple weather was doing to me.

I started toward the car, like I hadn't heard her, knowing it would go away once I was tucked away from the outside. Sliding into the driver's seat, I closed the door. The happy feelings were ripped away, leaving me feeling incomplete.

"Did you say something?" I asked Tenten then, knowing I could hear her again as she climbed in shotgun.

"Yeah, I asked if you were okay. You looked kind of lost for a second, like you were possessed. It wasn't in a bad way or anything, just strange," she said. I entertained the thought of telling her, she knew me better than anyone, after all.

No, I decided. Obviously, I was the only one the wind affected like that and it only started happening recently. It was unnatural—I was unnatural. I wasn't quite comfortable with sharing, even with Tenten. Plus I felt like the wind and I had a mutual understanding of each other. It was as comforting as it was insane. I wanted to keep it all to myself, if only for a bit longer.

"It's nothing," I said with finality. For the rest of the car ride, Tenten didn't bring it up again, leaving us in a pleasant silence as I watched the wind comb through the newly-turned colored leaves still hanging on the trees with envy, wishing I was in their place.

I pushed through the wonderful wind again trying to get into the school. It was a shame I had to leave it outside for the tedium of school. Nothing interesting happened until sixth period that day.

"This is our newest student, Shikamaru. He will be a student of this class starting today." The teacher said, motioning for him to pick one of the empty seats. 'I trust you will all make him feel welcome."

He moved to his seat with a sort of grace—the kind of confidence carried by those who let the opinion of others roll of their backs. He was just above caring, or maybe he just could bother with it, or even both. You could see the disinterest in his face immediately. The devil-may-care disposition oozed from him. But then, watching his dark eye flicker across the room, I could tell while careless, he wasn't reckless. He soaked up every detail of the place, disregarding nothing as anything less than potentially significant.

And then, those eyes stopped on me. Their deep espresso irises heated the back of my neck. The way he considered me—like a puzzle-piece he needed to solve—thrilled me, electricity jumping up my spine. It also intimidated me, being so closely examined knowing what would be found ordinary. I got the surreal feeling of being able to see myself through his eyes. I wasn't glamorous looking at all, just plain with too much too thick wiry hair that left me only to be managed through four ridiculous pigtails spiking all over the back of my head. I was barely touched tan—offsetting my blond hair and teal colored eyes—somewhat interestingly. I leaned over my desk, drinking him in with the same observant expression and we sized each other up.

With that casual air of his, he neared the empty desk to my left. Slipping into his seat, he didn't make time stop, but certainly pass slowly enough that I could taking in every little detail, senses on hyper alert. I stared without reservations, listening to the grating of chalk on chalkboard, hushed laughter of private conversations and the slamming of pens on desktops as students settled in for their lessons.

Most of all, the boy—Shikamaru, he was introduced as—was burned into my mind. He looked almost comical, too tall for the school desks, with arms and legs too long to have anywhere to rest comfortably. He had to stretch his legs in front of him and slung the arm closest to me over the back of the chair, exposing his side to me, almost as if on propose since we were so obviously aware of each other. I realized this was because he was going to talk to me as his spoke.

"You're Temari." He sounded so certain, it wasn't a question. His voice was a rough monotone, the deep bass rumbling in his chest like a moan before being spoken. It wrapped around my heart, giving a not-so-gentle squeeze. I liked my name on his lips.

"I am," I confirmed. It should have bothered me how he knew, but his intensity gave the impression of someone who knew things other don't- all-knowing, if that were possible.

Those espresso eyes glinted in recognition and something else- that knowing look. A dangerous half-smile unfurled. "Windy day." Weather—not an unusual conversation starter. "What is it trying to tell you?"

That wasn't so usual. I wasn't quite sure what he was referring to. It almost seemed like he knew… but that was impossible. I was the only one who knew. But still… all-knowing.

"What do you mean?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"The wind speaks to you, you just don't know it. You're just too caught up in the bliss it washes over you. I know about you, Temari. You love the wind, and she loves you more than anyone." Fear washed over me like icy water. Vague as he sounded, he knew. I knew he knew. Playing dumb was useless now. I didn't want to be seen as crazy or delusional. Feeling that way because of the wind? It was insane, though I didn't know how bad it was or if it was even bad at all. I wasn't keen on finding out. I leaned over close enough to get distracted by his scent and whisper.

"How did you know?" I wasn't so accepting of his knowledge now.

He still had that look—smug with what he undoubtedly knew. His retort was simple and cryptic, dodging my question all together. "You can see everything from the shadows."

OMFG I love writing Shika. i would so marry him if Temari didn't get dibs.

Tell me if you like! Reviews don't take very long! *hint hint*