Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Special Thanks: goes out to rao hyuga 18, McKazekage, Guest, greetingsfrommaars, and TheGirlWithNoIQ for all your wonderful reviews! Also thanks to everyone who's added this story to their favorite and follows lists - you all are amazing!

Author's Note: Surprise! I updated early because one, I'm really super excited about this chapter (especially the second scene!), and two, I wanted to let you all know to keep a lookout for a special oneshot sequel to Shadows, which I'll be posting on Mother's Day (this Sunday), entitled Dawn. So for those of you wanting a sequel - I'm happy to say I came up with one, and am really excited about it! In the meantime, thank you so much for reading Light and Dark, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

*~Chapter III~*

~Fight~

Temari entered the dining hall, poker face firmly in place, but to her surprise, Itachi wasn't there. As she hesitated in the doorway, Kankuro caught sight of her and grinned wickedly. "You're late!" he cried gleefully. Being the one who usually came skidding into the room at the last moment, he obviously found great amusement in the fact his prompt older sister was the late one this time.

Frowning, Temari marched across the room to her accustomed seat, wishing she could throw something at Kankuro. "Our guest isn't joining us?"

Gaara waited for Temari to be seated before sliding into his own. "He's going to take his meal in his quarters tonight. But he assures me he'll be well-rested and ready to spar with you when you set a time."

Well, at least I won't have to face him until tomorrow. Picking up her chopsticks, Temari nodded silent understanding as she reached for a bite of rice.

"How'd the tour go?" Kankuro asked, his dark eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. Though he'd not been present for Temari's disgraceful reapparance at the Hyuuga manor ten years ago, or Itachi's arrival earlier, he'd heard a lot about the man and well knew his sister's extreme dislike.

"He asked a bunch of questions. I answered them to the best of my ability." Temari sensed Gaara's expectant gaze on her and sighed, resigned to having to go into detail. She briefly rolled her eyes up in a glance at the ceiling. "He's a quick study. He picked up on things very rapidly, and even managed to answer some of his own questions before I had a chance. I warned him about the occasional sandstorms, and he said he and his escorts had to dodge one on the way here. He knows what to do."

Gaara nodded thoughtfully. "You took him to Sumi's?" he asked.

It was a rhetorical question, but Temari answered anyway. "Of course. Itachi liked the food, and Sumi liked Itachi." She just resisted making a face as she remembered her friend's question. The two of us in a relationship? Not likely. We couldn't have been giving off that vibe, so whatever made her ask such a thing?

Kankuro, of course, keyed in on the expression Temari evidently failed to completely control. "Sparks?"

"No." Having had more than enough of thinking about Itachi in a romantic light - even for her friend - Temari did make a face, then popped a piece of broccoli in her mouth to delay having to say more. She made a great show of chewing it, hoping her brothers would drop the subject.

No such luck, as per usual. "Have you set up a time to spar?" Gaara asked. He nailed her with his intense green eyes, chopsticks resting casually against the edge of his plate.

Temari swallowed and fastidiously patted her lips with her napkin before replying. "Yes. Tomorrow."

Her brother's eyes narrowed slightly. "Morning? Afternoon? Evening?"

Before Temari could offer a flippant response, Kankuro interrupted. "Why's this so important, Gaara?" Just the question Temari had been wanting to ask, so this time she stared back at Gaara expectantly.

"Lady Tsunade presented him as one of Konoha's most talented ninja," the head of the Sabaku replied calmly. Setting down his chopsticks, he reached for his teacup, pausing before drinking so he could continue. "I want to see if she was exaggerating or if it's true."

Kankuro nodded, satisfied with his brother's response.

Does Gaara think the leader of Konoha's just wanting to get rid of a lemon, and that's why she sent him to us? Temari couldn't tell just by looking at Gaara's typically blasé expression, but she didn't want to ask the question. "I have no doubt he'll be down for breakfast, so we'll work out a time then."

Gaara didn't reply, instead focusing intently on his meal. He seemed distracted, and occasionally he touched the tips of his fingers to his temple, as if he were battling a headache. Temari wondered if the Council were after him for something else - it wouldn't be the first time. Those old geezers were enough to give even the most patient person in Suna a migraine. Or send them to a nice, pretty white padded room in the hospital's basement.

After making sure his brother didn't want to say anything further on the subject, Kankuro turned to Temari. Eyes narrow and mouth twisted in a rakish grin, she knew what he was going to say before he did so. "So, Temari, why were you so late coming to dinner, hmm?"

She glanced at Gaara out of the corner of her eye, but he ignored her, lost in his own private world. Sighing, she turned back to Kankuro, "If you must know, I was tired. And my lady's maid," she shot a malignant glare at her still-oblivious brother, "wanted to fuss over my hair before I came." She scowled, reaching up to touch the uncomfortable twist Matsuri had forced her blonde locks into.

Kankuro's eyebrows shot up. "Lady's maid?" He half-snorted into his tea. "Since when do you have a lady's maid?"

Evidently Gaara wasn't as out of it as he'd appeared. He said, "Matsuri is training with Temari so when Hinata arrives, she will be able to handle her duties quickly and efficiently."

Of course Gaara would choose now to pay attention to the conversation. Turning to the redhead, she decided to make a plea for her freedom, though she had a feeling it would be pointless. "Why can't Matsuri learn from someone else? It's not like I've had a lady's maid before. I don't know what to do with one, or even if she's doing things right."

"She already knows what to do." Gaara pulled his napkin from his lap and tossed it onto the table next to his half-empty plate. "She learned everything she needed to know from the woman who used to serve as Mother's lady's maid. But knowing what to do and putting it into practice are two entirely different things." Pushing back his chair, he murmured a quick, "Excuse me," and then hurried away before Temari could voice another protest.

"What's eating him?" Kankuro asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he gazed after the redhead.

"I have no idea." Temari took another bite of rice, secretly thinking, But I bet it's got something to do with the newest member of our household. Whether Gaara wants to admit it or not, Uchiha's coming here has thrown our normal way of doing things off-kilter. I bet anything we'll all be glad when he finally either moves out or gives up.

Kankuro filled the silence with casual chatter for the rest of their mealtime. Temari only half-listened, looking forward to when she could excuse herself and go back to her room, though she wasn't sure how good a night's sleep she would get if her nightmares really were back.

Itachi heard the fight before he saw it.

The sound of feet scuffling on the floor; short, sharp pants; and wood meeting wood greeted him as he entered the workout room Temari had referenced the day before, wondering if he'd gotten the time wrong and showed up too early for their sparring appointment.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the action on the tatami mats spread across the open center of the floor. Most particularly, he focused on Temari, who stood in the center of half a dozen people, both male and female, taking turns attacking her individually and in groups.

Temari moved with graceful, deadly intent, not a single motion wasted as she ducked, jabbed, avoided, retaliated, danced among her attackers. The bō staff in her hands turned into a dark blur as she took out each "enemy" one by one.

At the end of the fight, those knocked down stood and bowed to each other and Temari, then moved to the back of the room in single file to put away their own staffs. Itachi only glanced at their procession before settling his gaze on the blonde still standing in the center of the room.

Leaning casually against the staff which stood several inches taller than her, Temari studied him through narrow eyes. Though a thin sheen of sweat sparkled on her skin, she didn't seem too out of breath as she watched him, obviously waiting for him to speak or make the first move.

Itachi waited until they were alone, ignoring the curious looks cast at him as each person filed past him out the door. "Impressive," he said evenly. Even back when he first met her, he'd had a feeling Temari was a good fighter. As recently as last night, he'd wondered what her fighting style might be, what her strengths and weaknesses were, how she would react to this or that move. But he had to admit just from coming in at the end of her little demonstration, he had underestimated her skills.

...But he was still reasonably certain he could beat her.

The corner of Temari's mouth kicked up in a sardonic grin. "Scared yet?" Picking up her bō staff, she easily whirled it in a circle over her head, her opaque turquoise eyes still focused on him.

Itachi allowed his own lips to quirk up slightly as he slid out of his shoes and headed across the room to pick his own weapon. "Not even slightly." He took a moment to admire the craftmanship of each staff, picking up and testing several before deciding on one the same height as Temari's, made of a darkly-stained wood with slightly worn gold patterns painted on the ends. Its weight and balance felt just right in his hand as he went to stand directly across from Temari.

She held hers crossways in front of her, grasped firmly in both hands. The lighter brown of its wood complemented her tanned skin, and close-up, Itachi noticed the staff looked well-worn, as if she used it often. From what he'd seen earlier, he understood why. "Need some time to warm up?" she asked.

"I warmed up while I was walking over here." He'd passed very few people on the way, so he hadn't felt silly doing stretches and things while he walked. "I'm ready to go when you are." Itachi switched the staff from one hand to the other, then back, his movements just as quick and sharp, though not as flamboyant, as Temari's.

Her teal eyes glinted with an obvious challenge. "No time like the present, then." Temari slid her right foot back, settling her weight into a fighting stance as she repositioned her staff, ready for action. The end of her weapon pointed straight towards his face like an accusing finger.

Itachi mirrored her movements, allowing his breath to flow in and out in an even rhythm as he watched for some twitch or tell to clue him on what her first move would be. This time, he would not be the first to give in.

They stood still as statues for a long moment, just staring at each other, deadlocked.

Temari's hips twitched, telegraphing her first move. Itachi reacted instantly, the right end of his staff lashing out to meet her blow before it even came close to connecting. She hopped back, swinging it around for another attempt while simultaneously putting her body out of reach. Grasping the staff with both hands, he stopped her blow, but found himself shaken by the force of it. Shockwaves rippled through the staff and up his arms into his shoulders and jaws, leaving little zings of pain in their wake.

She is good. Itachi spared only half a breath to admire her strength before leaping straight into the air, grinning when Temari's attempted leg sweep cut through empty air. While she tried to recover, still off-balance from the momentum, he landed on the balls of his feet and pivoted rapidly to the right, arcing his staff around in an attempt to catch her midriff.

As if sensing his intention, Temari threw herself into a backflip, Itachi's staff coming within a finger's width of catching her in the stomach. As her legs came up, she aimed a kick at his wrist, but he jerked out of her way at the last nanosecond. Landing softly on the balls of her own feet, Temari spun on her base foot, gathering momentum as she swung her staff around at his head. All hints of challenge and taunting were gone from her face, leaving nothing but focused determination in its wake.

Itachi met her blow with the left end of his own staff, absorbing the force while simultaneously knocking her rod aside. Temari used the impact to propel her around again, spinning on the ball of her foot as she nearly folded in half to avoid the other end of his staff coming around in an attempted strike at her head.

They'd found their rhythm now. Darting around each other, they jumped and spun and twirled through the air, each blow barely being blocked before connecting. Their breaths started to come in rapid, staccato bursts, sweat forming matching trails down their faces.

A loose strand of his hair slapped Itachi across the face. He blinked, ignoring the way it stuck to his cheekbone as he swept his staff toward Temari's head again. She ducked sideways, but a loose lock of her hair flipped upwards as Itachi's bō staff knocked against it - close, so close.

As the match continued, neither of them willing to give even an inch of advantage to the other, they began to tire. Itachi started to wish he'd worn a lighter shirt since the one he'd put on clung uncomfortably to his skin, chafing with each move he made. He'd never been pushed so hard during a match before, though he'd certainly fought skilled opponents back in Konoha. He'd expected Temari to be excellent. But he hadn't expected her to be able to match him blow for blow, to anticipate his next move almost before he thought of it himself. And though she was tiring as well, her tells were still so subtle he had to watch very closely to anticipate her next move...

She is, without a doubt, the most skilled ninja I have fought in my life. Itachi jumped away from her next blow, sliding his hands into a wider hold on his staff as he moved to retaliate. But it's time to end this! He feinted toward the left, watching with grim satisfaction as she reacted to his action just the way he hoped she would. With a loud yell, Itachi drove his staff towards her, ramming it straight into hers with a bone-jarring impact. But what he hadn't expected was her to meet him halfway, her fingers closing over both their staffs at the exact same moment his did, on either side of hers.

They stood nose to nose, breathing in raspy gasps, staring hard into each other's eyes as the truth sank in: they were as much in a deadlock as they'd been when they began.

Itachi's eyes dropped to her lips when she bared her teeth at him, a gutteral snarl rumbling in her throat. Her eyes snapped sparks he could almost feel against his skin, and her hot breath washed across his face, smelling strongly of strawberries.

Her hatred pulsed like a living thing between them, dark and ugly and so very strong.

Releasing the staffs as if he'd been burned, Itachi stumbled back a step, shocked by her reaction. He knew she strongly disliked him, and disapproved of his presence in Suna and her home. But he hadn't realized she hated him so forcefully. Drawing in a ragged breath, he tilted his head slightly in a kind of bow.

Temari's expression changed instantly. Her hatred vanished behind a smooth veneer of bland disinterest, though her eyes still held a simmering flame. Taking a staff in either hand, she dropped them to the floor, forming a kind of barrier between them. "A tie?" she panted, tone deceptively calm.

Itachi hesitated for just a moment, stubborn male pride warring with his more gentlemanly side. At last, he tilted his head slightly and agreed, "A tie, Lady Temari."

She spun away, but not before he saw something flicker across her features. "I shall report the results to Gaara," she said, picking up their bō staffs so she could carefully return them to their proper places. "He shall undoubtedly talk to you later about where he plans to go from there."

He wondered idly how Temari planned to present the details of their battle to her brother. He had no doubt she'd tell the truth - for all her dislike of him, he'd seen just a hint of respect on her face right before she turned away. "Very well. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Shoving her damp bangs off her forehead, Temari shot him an unreadable glance as she slid into her shoes, which rested next to his by the door. "You fight well." She was gone before he even processed the words.

Planting his hands on his hips, Itachi stared at the empty doorway and shook his head. "You too," he murmured. I'll not be underestimating you again. You can count on that.

Temari stared at the red lines on her palms, which had taken the brunt of the impact of her and Itachi's staffs. Well, she thought, bemused, he's not a lemon.

Closing the door separating the business and home portions of the Tower behind her, she leaned against it. Allowing her eyes to slide shut, she leaned her head back and let out her breath on a long, shaky sigh. Gaara had warned her Itachi was considered one of Konoha's best ninja, but part of her had scoffed at the idea. She'd been wary when he came in, though, just in case he was better than she thought.

He had been - even more than she'd thought possible.

She replayed bits and pieces of the fight in her mind, each move as clear as it had been when it first happened. He hadn't pulled his punches with her, treating her as an equal worthy of a true fight. That irked her in a way she still couldn't pin down, which only ticked her off further.

The past four years, she'd adhered to a strict training regimen she'd worked out mostly herself, with some input from Gaara and Baki, the head of Suna's war council. She worked tirelessly, even when her muscles screamed for relief, even when she bled, even when she felt so tired she thought she'd drop dead of exhaustion before she improved that little bit more.

And still, today, it had proved to be barely enough. She'd been fighting to beat Itachi, but all she'd managed to do was tie him. She had underestimated his ability and overestimated her own, and that drove her almost as crazy as the nightmares.

Lifting her right hand, Temari studied the angry red mark on her palm before closing her fingers into a fist over it. She allowed her nails to bite into her skin, welcoming the pain. She would have to tweak her regimen somehow. Perhaps lately she'd fallen too much into routine, just kind of cruising along without really challenging herself.

Maybe I can talk Gaara into sparring with me a bit. That should give me some of the push I need. Even as the thought entered her mind, she knew it wouldn't happen. Gaara didn't spar with anyone, only the shadows in his own mind. He never told her the reason, but she could guess easily enough. He'd hurt too many people in his lifetime, and he had no desire to do anything which might even remotely harm another. He'd not be agreeing to spar with her, at least not any time soon, though she knew he'd come with her and help demonstrate and talk her through some new techniques.

Pushing off the door, Temari turned her steps towards her brother's office. He was expecting her report, and she wanted to talk to him, anyway. The sooner the better.

She only hoped Gaara would be satisfied enough with her efforts that he wouldn't send her out on any missions with Itachi. Not likely.

...But a girl could hope.

*~To Be Continued~*

Author's Ending Notes: An early update! I posted this chapter early one, because I was really excited about it (especially the second scene!), and two, to let you all know I'm going to be posting a oneshot sequel to Shadows, entitled Dawn, on Mother's Day (this Sunday)! So for all of you who wanted a sequel, I'm very happy to report there will be one (and I'm really excited about it)! But in the meantime, thank you for reading Light and Dark, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you again for the next one (and for Dawn)!