A/N Please review!

"You seem troubled," Tsunade said. Temari picked at her nails and wondered how Tsunade kept hers so nice. Temari remembered the one time she tried to paint her nails. They chipped off in minutes. Tsunade must repaint them daily, or pay someone to do them-

"Did something happen since I saw you yesterday?"

Even her toes were manicured. Ten fingers, ten toes, how much was that per week? More than Temari made at her measly part-time job. At least she hadn't been suspended from that-

"This is your time, Temari. I suggest you utilize it."

"Gaara got in trouble," Temari blurted. "I found out yesterday. He was trying to keep it from me."

Tsunade nodded, "Your little brother."

"I have two little brothers, though they're not so little anymore. Gaara's the youngest."

"What did he do?"

Temari let out a desperate chuckle. "That's the thing; no one will tell me." An angry mother knocked on their door last night and spent an hour screaming at Temari about how Gaara had picked on her sweet baby boy. Her sweet, six foot, two hundred pound boy. Temari was stunned. The woman left demanding a well versed apology, which Gaara agreed to if she would just leave. "Every time I ask him what happened, all I get is a grunt." She rolled her eyes, "You know how teen boys are."

Tsunade smiled, "Yes, I have a few of them as patients."

"Even worse."

"They're not too bad; all they really need is a good stick of deodorant." No wonder the room smelled of heavy perfume. "Maybe Gaara won't tell you what happened because of the way you ask."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're blunt," Tsunade said carefully. Temari's face gave her annoyance away, but she let the psychologist go on. "You speak your mind. That's not a bad thing, but maybe Gaara sees your directness as an attack. Try talking to him, and not about how he got in trouble. He may reveal that to you in his own time."

She remembered the way Gaara avoided her eyes when she confronted him. After an hour of asking, she felt more like an interrogator than a sister, and gave up in self disgust. Talking to Gaara was hard to begin with, and she didn't want to fuck everything up. He was really starting to mellow out.

"He used to set fires, you know." She bit her lip. "My father died in a fire." It took a while for Temari to realize what she had just insinuated. "Gaara had nothing to do with my father's death," she said quickly. She was about seventy percent sure. "I'm just worried about him. Is that messed up? I'm the one who got suspended, not Gaara."

"Not at all, it makes sense for you to be concerned." Tsunade made a note, and Temari didn't bother asking what she meant. She still had yet to confess she feared Gaara for the better part of her life. In her nightmares she woke to the smell of burning flesh, singed hair and a room of devouring flames; but maybe that was for another session. Tsunade finished writing. "If it makes you feel any better, Baki recommended that Gaara see me as well."

Temari wasn't sure how to take that. Tsunade was receiving far too much insight into her crazy. But if it helped Gaara, she couldn't complain.

The session ended after another half hour of talking about her job and her crappy pay. If Tsunade knew Temari was trying to divert her attention, she didn't show it.

The street was crowded with students, tourists and office workers on break. Temari weaved through the mass as best she could and checked her boots every now and then to make sure they didn't get too scuffed. Temari wasn't materialistic, but they were her favourite of everything she owned. Her shoulder collided with another, and she barreled into someone's chest.

"Watch it," she yelled behind her, searching for the man who had knocked her over. It was impossible to spot anyone in these crowds.

"Not you again."

Temari faced her front and almost laughed. The Konoha High boy with the lazy attitude and black ponytail stood with his hands in his pockets. He looked like he was considering turning around and ignoring her, but she stepped to the side and pulled him with her so as not to get trampled. He was taller than she thought he would be, and not as skinny.

"The gum you gave me yesterday looks like a cheap knock off of a better brand," he said, pulling it out and tapping her forehead with it, "and it tastes like feet."

She flicked his hand away, mouth agog. "You had some? I didn't think you'd actually use it. I found it in my house and didn't know what to do with it."

He cringed and searched for an expiration date. "You mean you don't know how old it is? Who did it belong to?"

Temari shrugged. "Maybe one of my brothers' friends."

Shikamaru looked at her as if she had tried to poison him. "Do you also put Advil in Halloween candy?"
"Don't be stupid, the gum is perfectly fine." She hoped. It probably belonged to one of Kankurou's friends; the one that didn't like mint and had a fridge full of expired food. "Keep it. That stuff is pretty expensive you know."

He shoved the pack back in his pocket. "Yeah, well I guess you've never tasted it."

"I don't smoke," she said haughtily. "I'm a runner. They don't exactly mix." He grinned and she saw pearly whites. He was actually kind of cute in his own way. "So you quit then; the smoking."

"I also stopped breathing air." She took it back. He was so not cute. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm trying, though."

Shikamaru sounded so honest she punched him lightly in the arm. He scowled and rubbed the spot vigorously. "You're not too bad," Temari said with a smile. "You know, for a Konoha High student." She checked her watch and cringed at the time. Her boss was going to kill her if she was late another day. "Shit, I've got to go. Duty calls. Or work in this case. See you tomorrow."

He groaned. He had to be the oldest young person she'd ever met. "At this rate, it's likely."

She gave him a little salute and rushed off hoping that maybe Matsuri had already clocked in to cover for her.

"You're here," Tsunade said in surprise. Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline.

Shikamaru took a seat. At least the room had a nice view of the sky. "I am."

"So you're attending regularly now?"

He gritted his teeth. "I suppose so." His sessions started a month ago. Yesterday was his first, and he didn't blame Tsunade for being a little short with him. Luckily the Nara family wasn't low on cash, and Tsunade was a valued acquaintance. His father had no qualms with exploiting Tsunade's weakness for gambling, and bribed her with poker chips over dinner. She hadn't dropped Shikamaru yet.

Now Tsunade stared at him curiously from over her black rimmed glasses. "What changed your mind?"

Shikamaru leaned back into the couch. If he was going to be mentally assaulted, he may as well be comfortable. "Not a lot."

"So you came here on a whim." Was that sarcasm in her voice?

He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt around for his lighter. The metal was cool to the touch. "I saw that girl again today."

"The one you met yesterday," she flipped through her notes. "The 'weird' one."

Did she write their whole conversation? Maybe she recorded their meetings too. He stared at the ceramic slug sculpture on the end table beside him and swore he could see lenses in the beady black pupils.

"Yeah, her name's Temari. I bumped into her on the street."

"So Temari is why you're here?"

"No." Well... "Kind of," he conceded. "She gave me some advice." What kind of woman went around telling strangers to get off their asses? He smiled. She sure was a strange one.

Tsunade appeared content with his vague reply. "Do you still play shougi with your father?" Ah, here it was. The roundabout way of asking how his familial relationships were.

"He refuses to. He says I shouldn't be rewarded for the way I've been behaving. As if getting beat over and over is some sort of reward."

"Having something to focus on might be a good thing. Especially something familiar."
"You tell him that. He's the only one I can play with since..."

"Since Asuma is gone," Tsunade finished for him, her voice pained as well. She had also known Shikamaru's old mentor, though not as a patient but as a friend.

Tsunade wrote something down on her little notepad then tore it out. She held the slip of paper out for him and he took it uncertainly.

"There's a go parlor not too far from here. They also have shougi, so you might be interested. I wrote down the name and address. Why not take a look and see what you think," Tsunade said with a smile.

Shikamaru stared at the little piece of paper. If he could play shougi, a go parlor didn't sound too bad. It would help give him an excuse for not being able to go out, with the added bonus that none of his friends would want to join him. They were concerned for him, he knew, but he hated the secret looks they gave each other when they thought his back was turned. He stuffed the paper into his pocket while Tsunade scribbled on her notepad.

"Now, why don't we talk about Asuma," Tsunade said with a menacing undertone.

He thoroughly regretted skipping all those sessions. When he refused to comply with her first question, she asked him about Chouji and Ino.

"They're fine," he said. She waited for a suitable answer. She wasn't going to let this one go. He let out a deep breath and confessed. "I've been avoiding them."

"Did they do something?"

"No, they're," he paused. The last time the three of them hung out, Chouji gave him the choicest piece of BBQ meat and Ino hugged him goodbye. "They're worried."

Tsunade shifted in her seat. "Shikamaru, you once told me you saw Ino cry." He'd seen Ino cry a bunch of times, and she'd finally perfected the art of sobbing without smearing her makeup. Ino had a lot of emotions. "And that Chouji used to be picked on for his size." Not anymore. Chouji could decapitate a man with his little finger, though he was usually too docile to do it. Tsunade carried on. "You need to let them be there for you the same way you were there for them. Pushing them away won't solve any of your problems. They cared for Asuma too."

He wanted to tell her it wasn't the same. They hadn't been there. They hadn't seen the pools of blood that cascaded across the pavement. They didn't sit shaking beside him, trying desperately to call for help and stop the blood- because there was so much blood. They didn't watch Asuma die.

Shikamaru stood outside Tsunade's office building chewing a tile of gum vigorously. God, he wanted a smoke so bad. A cop wandered by and gave him a nod. Not that bad.

He checked his watch. 4:30. He could go home and finish his homework, but that hardly seemed appealing. He pulled out the slip of paper Tsunade gave him earlier. A game of shougi sounded nice about now. He hadn't played in months, but what did it matter against strangers? If he hurried, he could probably make the last game.

After walking for what felt like ages, he finally found the well-hidden parlor. It lay below ground level in a building with chipped plaster and a tiny little sign that spelled the words 'GO' and 'SHOUGI'. The stairs creaked as he made his way down into a narrow, tiled hall. He pulled open the little red door at the end after trying to peek through the window of frosted glass. The room within was fairly well lit, with rows of tables and balding, wrinkled men who leaned over their boards in contemplative thought. Like the rest of the building, it was old; the only indication of the year being the no-smoking sign in bold letters.

A doe eyed girl with brown hair welcomed him in. He was three feet through the doorway when someone cursed loudly. He turned. No way.

Temari stood with two steaming mugs of tea in her hands, wearing an apron rather than her leather jacket. Not even the cuddly pink bear stitched onto the front of the bib could make her look like a polite serving girl. Her patrons jumped back as Temari set the cups down, the tea threatening to spill. She didn't take her eyes off him. "No way," she said, echoing his thoughts. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here," he asked stupidly.

"I work here." She glared. "As if you didn't know that."

"A friend recommended this place to me," he lied quickly. He hadn't even told Chouji or Ino he was seeing a therapist, and he definitely wasn't announcing it to a room of strangers. "How could I know that this is where you work?"

She leaned against the table and put her hand on her hip, practically emitting suspicion. "I dunno, how do most stalkers get their information?"

Everyone was watching them now. One balding man was frozen in place, his fingers still lingering on a little black stone.

"I'm not stalking you." Her face remained impassive. He considered finding another parlor where he wouldn't be accused of being a creep by a wild blonde woman, and could have a nice peaceful game. But laziness won over convenience and he stayed rooted to the spot. "I just wanted to play shougi. That's all." He raised his hands in peace. "I swear."

She strode up to the counter and took off her apron. There was a gleam in her teal eyes that he wasn't sure if he liked or if he feared. "What's your rank?"

"I don't really know. I've only ever played at home."

Temari tapped the counter in dissatisfaction as if to say, what do you mean you don't know? "Write him up, Matsuri," she barked. The girl with the brown hair and baby face almost jumped out of her skin. Temari grinned deviously. "It's too bad you missed the start of the last game. We've already paired everyone off, and there aren't any stragglers." She walked up to Shikamaru slowly and stopped inches from him. Even her eyelashes were a thick sandy blonde. Temari crossed her arms and held her chin high. He was taller than her, but she managed to make herself intimidating. "So how about you play me? Unless you can't stand the thought of losing..."

He wrapped his fingers around the familiar metal of the lighter in his pocket. He couldn't play with Asuma anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't still play. Temari was urging him on, taunting him; what kind of man backed down from a challenge like that?

"Alright," he agreed with a smirk. He had pegged Temari as the smart type, and he was intrigued to see what kind of game she played.

He paid the fee and she led them to an empty table at the side of the room and set up the board. A man at the table next to them with thick lenses and blotchy age spots nudged Shikamaru on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid," he rasped. "Temari's ruthless. She's made a lot of us old-timers look bad. Lesser men have even cried."

Temari's grin widened as she straightened her four ponytails. "Don't worry. I'm letting him have black." Shikamaru didn't argue. If she was strong, he'd find out. He stared at the pieces. The foreign feeling of excitement welled up at the ends of his finger tips.

"Are you ready," Temari asked when she finished setting up the board. He felt her legs shift against his under the cramped table. Don't get distracted.

Shikamaru nodded and made the first move. His heart raced as he considered strategy after strategy. There was nothing but him, the board, and Temari. His eyes met hers and he knew they were immersed in the same world, both trying to read the other. "Your turn."