A/N: Hmm, anyone still there? I know it was supposed to be a one-shot, but I've been in one of my extremely rare writing moods, and I wanted to give this story an ending. I sincerely apologize for making Shikamaru kind of a pansy and for making this a rather implausible story line, but I guess I sacrificed those two elements for a better story flow. Anyway, long live ShikaTema!

Sixteen years passed since he last saw her, since he plunged into the dark abyss and realized in his heart that she was worth dying for, worth going to hell for. Sixteen years since she saved him, yet again, and promised him her undying love. She promised him that he is and will always be the love of her life, no matter what their countries' shaky diplomatic ties suggested. And when those ties tore apart, they realized they could never see each other again, so they wrote cryptic messages delivered by the wind, so that the guardians of Shin'i could never know that a heretic was among them, living as one of their most esteemed priests.

One year passed since his greatest failure. The failure that had cost him that which he held most dear. He fought them—the elders, the war hawks, the fanatics. He pulled the numerous political strings he held, but in the end the pieces fell apart and he lost. Even his wits were no match against the bloodthirsty congregation of Shin'i, who declared war on Sand in the name of Hojin. They swore an oath to their deity to burn the infidels and set their land on fire—a fire so great it would cleanse the cursed earth of its sins.

Six months had passed since she left him. More accurately, since she died. Executed. Murdered by the very organization he served. Run, he wrote to her in a message disguised as a seed and carried for three days by the wind. Fly while you still can. But she was a woman of the Sand. Proud, stubborn, and fearless to a fault, she would embrace death before she ran. She was bound to the Sand the way his roots ran deep in Konoha. And he knew he would never leave, no matter how cursed it became, no matter how much Shin'i tore his old way of life apart.

When they showcased her fan as a trophy, he went into a blind rage and attacked the warriors of the temple, maiming a good number before he was finally subdued. And when he was himself again, and locked in a solitary cell, the Chief Minister took one last stab at him.

"She cried like a child and begged for her life. She offered us money, her body, even her own people if only we would spare her life. The shameless whore kept screaming as we stuck her like a pig."

And for the first time in years, Shikamaru smirked.

"Heh, you're as good a liar as your god is real—which is to say, not very."

Because his warrior woman would die before she begged for mercy; and she had decimated most of their armies before she had lost. It had been an incredibly costly victory for Konoha, whose troops outnumbered Sand's seven to one.

One week passed since he was sentenced to die as a traitor, as an enemy of the temple. He was to walk the plank and plunge into the very same gorge he had jumped off years ago, when there was still someone to live for. But this time, he knew Temari would not save him. Temari was dead. His intricate mind could have devised several sure ways to escape, but he never bothered. When Shin'i took away his most precious person, granting him death seemed like their sole act of kindness.

When the day came, he walked the plank, ready to see Temari once again.

"Any last words?" asked the Head Minister.

"I'll see you bastards in hell. Later," he said as he stepped off, falling into the dark canyon, farther and farther away from the angry mob that was celebrating his imminent death.

But once again, something broke his fall. He knew it was not Temari, but he landed on a fan, gently descending toward the base of the gorge. He secretly hoped he was dead, but knowing his luck, it was rather unlikely. It seemed like a cruel joke. Perhaps the cursed deities had punished him and delayed his union with his woman.

"When are these jackasses gonna learn that the best way to kill someone is to off their heads? That way, you know they're really dead. Heh," remarked a sharp and haughty male voice.

"Who are you?" he asked as soon as their feet touched solid ground.

"I am Sabaku no Shikamaru, the son of Temari of the Sand and Nara Shikamaru of Konoha. I was born out of wedlock, but I was conceived in love. Or at least that's what my mom told me to say."

And just like that, his world changed yet again. Who knew that the legacy of their love would be the one to save him once again? When all said that a love like theirs would never belong in this world, it was manifested in this young man with hair like midnight and eyes like the sea before a storm. He had her mostly her features, cocky and harsh. And for that, Shikamaru was glad.

"That damn woman named you Sabaku no Shikamaru?"

"Heh, Mom always did say you were a sexist crybaby. So are we gonna take back Konoha from these loonies or what?"

With that, he found his will—no, his need—to live. Temari was not gone. She lived in this boy. And this boy is now his Will of Fire.

.:END:.