Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air
Can't live, can't breathe with no air.
--No Air, Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown

Chapter X
Uniforms are the Bane of Every Young Woman's Existance

He leaned against the makeshift counter in the classroom, bored face practically dripping on the countertop, threatening to land on the dishes I've been slaving over for hours. Sakura, who was busy yelling orders at our "cooks" to hurry up and get shit done (she was actually pretty good at making people shape up and work faster), slid towards us, flicking his head.

"Wake up, Shikamaru," she ordered, voice low and no nonsense. "And stop drooling over the food. It's your fault for not getting any sleep."

He frowned at her, fingers rubbing at the spot she'd flicked on his forehead, which was slowly but surely growing red. "Shut up," he mumbled, before refocusing his eyes on me. "Everyone's raving about the food."

I couldn't help it if I lowered my eyes to avoid having to stare at him and his fierce gaze. "Thanks."

It was November and unusually nippy and cold. However, with the strange weather, November also brought the Culture Festival, the two-day school wide celebration that involved some sort of mingling between all years and some type of… togetherness as well as promoting our participation as active citizens and socializing with others outside our school environment.

That was why the homeroom class was decked out as if it were a restaurant, with makeshift tables and lights and drapes and the counter and the barbeque and the insane amount of spices that had already caused three cooks to erupt in hives and have to be removed. That was why I was standing behind the counter, clothed in a chef's apron and chef's hat, waving a spatula threateningly around as I commanded my "underlings" to do as I said as we prepared typical Sunan dishes.

I would have probably had more fun, had I not been practically forced into the situation by an overly-enthusiastic Sakura and her band of following miscreants that was the rest of the class, save for the lazy bastard standing before me.

"Shikamaru!" Ino's squeal could be heard from the entrance of the classroom, where she bounced on her heels and eagerly waved at us. Hinata and a fang-toothed boy—Kiba, I heard someone call him—peeked out from behind her.

Shikamaru turned to look back at me, nodding once before ducking his head from under the drapes that gave the sense of a "kitchen" to everyone on the other side. I watched him from my perch as he shuffled his way towards his—our?—friend, probably admitting defeat on the way as he was easily hounded by her eager questions about how the day was going.

I turned away, trying to distract myself. It had been almost two weeks since Halloween, and things had grown steadily more awkward between us. There were times where I could not help but stare at him, as if my eyes were gravitated towards him, as if his laziness and disinterest created a vortex I could not escape. Other times, I'd catch him watching me from the corner of his eyes, and when I'd question him, he'd mutter a half-assed reply before dismissing me, abandoning me in whatever we were doing. There was always a sense of something being left unsaid in the air between us, and every time we were together, it crackled in the air, suffocating us, threatening to kill us the longer we remained in the other's presence.

And honestly, I didn't really know how to deal with it. My heart did strange things around him. It beat incessantly when he was near. When he spoke up during class—he was doing it much more often now, surprisingly—my stomach did strange summersaults and I felt like stabbing it repeatedly with the end of my sharpened pencil. And gods forbid we were alone and our eyes met—my skin would tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck would stand on end.

It was infuriating, the amount of (or lack there of) control I had around him. I didn't even know what was truly causing it, only that he was part of the equation.

"Temari-san!"

I jumped at the sudden sound of Sakura's voice. Looking up, I found her green eyes staring intently into mine, and she seemed ready to break down and have a fit.

"What?" I asked. I hadn't meant for my voice to sound so disinterested and borderline-annoyed. It just came out that way.

"Miroku-chan," was one of the girls in the homeroom, who I had seen eyeing Shikamaru many times during the first ten minutes of the day, "just threw up. We only have three waitresses left and there are too many people."

I didn't get where she was going with this, but I nodded along anyway. The sooner she stopped talking, the sooner I'd get back to ordering people around and reminiscing about home. "Okay?"

She released an exasperated sigh, batting away at something in front of her. "We need you. You're the only one left. Every other girl," at this, she paused to stare pointedly at the other female cooks shuffling behind us, all squealing and shrieking when the flames would rise and spit in their face, "will end up poisoning our customers."

I frowned. "You'd rather they set us on fire?"

I don't think she was too pleased that I was still managing to be sarcastic at such a dire moment in time. "I'd rather burn alive then get sued for poisoning people."

"Your priorities are fucked, Sakura."

"Please, Temari-san? I already memorized how to do all the dishes, and the guys are getting the hang of it." At that precise moment of time, one of the guys behind me yelped and there was the clatter of a pan dropping on the floor.

"Ignore that," Sakura commanded darkly, completely overlooking my 'Did you hear that?' and shoving something into my arms. "Change into that, okay? I think they'll fit…" Her eyes draped over the top-half of my body. "You're not too fat."

I growled and was ready to retort when she reached in and pulled me, making me hurry out of the "kitchen" and sending me out of the classroom towards the bathroom somewhere down the hall.

I'd realized, in the bathroom, changing into the "uniform" I was supposed to wear, why our classroom was such a huge success all around the campus. The girls were dressed like sluts. I mean, the skirt I wore barely reached mid-thigh, and while I was all up for dressing as scantily as humanly possible, I had some standards to keep at school. And I was pretty sure that shirt was not supposed to make my tits look like they'd been injected with silicone and were ready to burst out.

Stomping my way back to the room, I received so many glances that I actually felt like I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Or at least unleash a flurry of violent, devil-animals that would maul me and leave only a bloody, unidentifiable mass in their wake of fury.

When I made my way back in, the entire room fell silent. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, staring and staring and staring some more. I was about so scream out something along the lines of "Fuck are you bitches looking at?" when a college boy whistled appreciatively, his friends joining in on the chorus, the whole "restaurant" bursting into life again.

Sakura and Ino came immediately to my side, commenting appreciatively of how well I could pull the uniform off. Moving away from them (more like sliding as quickly away from them as I could manage), I slipped past and took up my post, taking down orders as quickly as my skirt and too-tight-to-breathe shirt would allow me to.

Once I got down a particular order for a table of six guys (who snickered and stared at pointed at me, and it took all of my self-determination to keep from picking them all up and throwing them against the wall and beating them senseless), I made my way to the kitchens, ready to place the order. Shikamaru stood on the other side, staring at me.

"You look weird," he remarked once I got near enough to hear him. He slurred the words. He always sounded perpetually drunk. For some odd, almost revolting reason, I found it sort of cute.

Fuck was I thinking?

"Thanks," I spat, placing the paper down and sliding it towards him. "Do it as fast as you can. I don't want to have to be around them any longer than I gotta."

His eyes strayed from my face to stare at something behind me, possibly the table of boys. "Are they bothering you?"

I was surprised to hear him sound like he cared. "They're guys. Of course they're bothering me."

"You can take care of them," he said, shrugging, taking the paper and handing it off to the guy I assumed had yelped and burned himself, since he was blowing on a swollen red thumb.

There was an awkward silence. The kind of awkward silence that only occurs in doramas or movies, where the guy and the girl need to say something but can't. Those awkward bullshit moments that shouldn't really happen in real life but was somehow finding its way into mine.

"Shikamaru…"

His left eye twitched as his ears perked up. "What?"

"…Nothing."

He'd never understand.

"Hey hun, you got a boyfriend?"

I glowered at the guy beside me, whose eyes were no longer focused on my face but lower on my chest. Resisting the urge to keep my elbow from bashing into the guy's face, I pushed his plate towards him, secretly hoping he was allergic to spicy food.

"She's a pretty thing," his friend observed, taking the plate with his food and still staring at me, though at least he kept his dark eyes on my face. "How old are you?"

I gritted my teeth and straightened, placing a hand on my hip. "Underage, you bitch."

The first guy laughed, a low, rumble that made his own friends burst into their own fits of chuckles. "Feisty," he said when he finished. "I like that in a girl."

"Want me to rip your face off, too?" I asked, sugary sweet tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Violent, are you?" the first guy asked, peering intently into my face. The way his eyes slipped down for a second didn't go unnoticed by me, and I only narrowed my eyes further and furrowed my eyebrows in question.

"Quite. Would you like to see what I'm capable of?"

"I like girls like that," he responded, smirking delicately. "Besides, I'm only a sophomore in college. It doesn't matter if you're seventeen."

I frowned. He was undeterred by my threats and my claim that I was still underage.

"What if I'm fifteen?" I challenged.

His other friend snorted. "A body like that does not belong to a fifteen year old."

My frown deepened. I did not like where this conversation was going, or the way the first guy eyed me like I was prey. Sure, I was pretty much asking for it wearing the clothes I was, but that wasn't my fault. It was Sakura's fault. Or some perverted boy's fault.

"Do you want to take a break now?" the first guy asked, nodding towards the doors. I snorted as he continued, "You can show me around the school."

"Keep dreaming." I pushed his plate further, hoping he'd get the hint without having to resort to violence.

Usually, resorting to violence would not bother me at all, but that tiny fact that I was in another city, in another school, away from people I knew kept me from fully lashing out. The incident with the soccer girl—Tayuya, as I later learned she was called—was one of the few times where the teachers turned the other cheek and completely ignored the fact I had pretty much attacked her.

Suddenly, his hand latched onto my wrist, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had been thrust into a horribly plotted porn movie, and that this would be the point where everyone suddenly disappeared and I was being ravaged against a bathroom stall in an abandoned girl's restroom.

My eyes slowly lifted to stare at him. "Let go," I said slowly, my tone acid. His smirk widened.

"Come on, take a break."

Before I could register what my hand was doing, it had already pushed the burning hot plate over the edge of the table, sending the contents spilling onto his crotch. He screeched and let go of my other hand, which immediately did as it wanted and landed its fist to his face.

His friends stood up, ready to—actually I didn't know. They just stood and stared and they looked angry enough to want to attack me. But before I could start beating them, I felt someone grab my wrist and twist, and the silence that engulfed the restaurant.

"Let me fucking go," I spat dangerously, pulling at my wrist.

"Fuck you did, bitch!" the guy shook my arm and pulled, and I stumbled off balance, almost landing on him.

The moment I lifted my free hand to slam into his face, again, he was already letting go of my wrist and gripping his face. I stood up, startled, turning wildly to face Shikamaru, who looked slightly angered, although he kept his demeanor under control and still managed to look bored.

"Fuck are you," the guy asked, obviously angry.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes and pointed towards the door. "You're disrupting business. I suggest you leave."

"I don't listen to a little fucking twelve year old," the guy said, already advancing on him.

I stepped in between them. "You heard him. Get the fuck out before I call the security guards."

"You wouldn't dare, you little—"

Severely annoyed as I was, I wrapped a hand around his collar, pulling him down to my eye level and simultaneously choking him. "Finish it. I fucking dare you."

A hand on my shoulder pulled me back, making me let go of the guy. "Don't." Shikamaru's warm breath in my ear made me tingle as his hand fell away.

He sidestepped me and stood in front, eyeing the guy. "Go now, while she's still being nice." He paused for a second, cocking his head. "Actually, while I'm still being nice."

The guy snarled. "You her boyfriend or something?"

I stiffened and was about to give that guy a piece of my mind ("Fuck no!") when Shikamaru held a hand up. "Yes. Now, please turn around and get the fuck out."

I gasped. For starters, I was shocked as hell to hear him say yes, and I was further shocked at the fact he had cussed. And… he sounded… so… so good just…

I shook my head. Where the hell those thoughts came from, I had no fucking clue. But they sure as hell needed to get the fuck out.

The guy growled as he dusted himself off and left, friends following closely behind. Once they were gone, Shikamaru turned to stare at me, dark eyes trekking across my face before looking down at my chest.

"You should change," he told me, still not looking at me. "That was probably the reason why he couldn't help but hit on you." He pointed at my chest.

I looked down, finding the top two buttons had popped and I was now giving everyone a fantastic view of my cleavage.

Thanks, life. Fucking thanks.

"Are you better?"

It was finally the end of the Culture Festival, and I had changed out of the uniform and donned normal clothing. I was sitting outside of the school, claiming a spot on the stairs while I rummaged through my bag, intent on looking for my cell phone to call Kankurou and tell him of the day's events.

I looked up, surprised to find Shikamaru already leaning down to take a seat beside me. I scooted over, making room for him, unconsciously placing distance between us. He seemed to notice, however, but didn't say a word, only raised an eyebrow in silent questioning before shrugging it away.

I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. Since the Halloween dance, I had been feeling extremely uncomfortable. I could no longer just look at him—I had to notice things and feel ill and all that horrible shit I read about in books. I got nervous around him. I couldn't even bear looking at him for too long before I felt like I would actually start blushing, and I knew damn well I was incapable of blushing.

"You've been avoiding me again," he said lightly. He wasn't accusing; simply stating a simple fact. I wanted to kill him.

"No, I haven't."

I felt him nod beside me, and I was tempted to take a peek at him but kept from doing so, my eyes staring straight ahead at the group of girls chatting excitedly to each other as they made their way across the grounds towards the street.

"It's okay. I get it."

I turned sharply to look at him. "What?"

He wasn't looking at me. Instead, his eyes were planted over head, watching the clouds drift lazily by, probably wishing he could join them.

"What?" I repeated, louder. This was not the time to test my patience.

"I get why you're avoiding me. Can't blame you."

"Oh really? Enlighten me."

Finally, his dark eyes met mine and he sat up straight. "You can't deal with your feelings for me." I opened my mouth to retort, but he held a hand up, staying my response. "I know you're going to deny it and be all 'I'd never like a guy like you' but I know it's true. I can see it. You're acting strangely. You hardly look at me anymore. You hardly bother arguing. You're awful at hiding shit like this."

Never before had I had such a strange desire to strangle him. My hands itched and twitched in my lap, and I was ready to kick him in the face. I took a deep breath and turned away.

"Really, Shikamaru. Don't make me throw up."

He released an exasperated sigh. "Stop denying it. It'll bite you in the ass."

That was it. I was going to kill him. "Fuck you!"

He sat up a bit straighter, eyes narrowed. "What're you yelling at me for?"

"Stop saying stupid shit like that!"

"It's not stupid. It's true."

I wrung my hands in the air, already close enough to reaching over and wringing his skinny neck.

How it happened, I don't know, and never bothered to really going over. All I knew was that my hands had finally reached his neck, but instead of strangling him, were pulling him closer to me. My mouth was not screaming curses, but was instead softly planted on his. And my eyes were open, wide and watching him carefully as he lightly closed his eyes and kissed back.

A second later (or perhaps ten), I pulled away, breaking the contact. As I scrambled to my feet, he was still only pulling back, slowly opening his eyes, lips still puckered in such a way that I was tempted to swoop down and kiss him again.

"I…" I paused, slightly flustered. This was so unlike me. I didn't feel flustered. I never felt embarrassed. I was Temari, for fuck's sake.

"Told you," he said, smiling.

I stared. Stared some more. And then I felt an unquenchable anger rise and sweep through me.

"Fuck you," I spat, lips twisting into a grimace, watching as his smile slipped and he was suddenly sitting up straighter than ever and slightly frightened. "Don't you fucking dare pull some kind of shit like that again."

That said, I picked my things up and stomped away.

I was really screwed.

Thanks a lot, Kankurou.

AN: I'M FINALLY BACK

Though, to be honest, this chapter sucked. It got things rolling, but my writing was god-awful and I've been trying for two months and really… it just fails at everything.

That, and I've been very, very, very distracted by two RPs I'm in. I play Temari in both, and dasfhajdkfhadf. RPs stole my life. Though I'm honestly super pissed about them and I'm so tempted to quit and god I hate being so temperamental.

Anyway. I made a new livejournal that will hold all my fics. They'll be making an appearance there first, just because. I'll also have drabbles and stuff I'll post there and not on my account. Don't ask why. It's just… Whatever.

I'm really, really sorry about my lack of update. I'm horrible. But I've been super busy. I've been so stressed with school that it's not even funny anymore. I've contemplated dropping out more than once, and it's my final year, so dfjkadjkf. Ugh. School. RPs. Life. So unnecessary.

Anyway, you guys should definitely check and friend my LJ, just because I really like friends (the link will be on my homepage thing in my profile) Oh, and the RPs I'm in REALLY need more people, so if you like to RP and are decent, definitely drop me a line, okay?