For a very long time, Temari had not been so scared - she thought she had already lost everything, there was nothing to be feared in the world, not even death.
Until this moment, as she stared at the door, waiting for her husband to come back.
She was scared, so scared that the hairs on the back of her neck was standing, that she could feel sweat condensing in her palms.
She had pictured his face in her mind, his face when she tells him.
Sadness. Anger. Disappointment… all of these had gone through her mind, even the worst case scenario - that he did not care, that everything he tried to do was fake, maybe he had his own little affair, and he was only making it up to her because he was equally guilty.
Perhaps, this might be their last conversation as man and wife.
She tapped on the table anxiously, he should be back anytime now.
It was the perfect opportunity for the two of them to sort it out, she made sure that Shikadai would not be present - he was tasked to tour around the city with the three visitors.
They would be alone when everything come crashing down.
No matter what happens today, she is going to tell him.
Or at least, that was what she thought when the sound of keys turning rang in her ear.
The door opened slowly as he entered, he looked up at her, tired.
The frustration evident from his face was alarming, she kept her calm, as he approached the table.
"Tell me it isn't true." He said as he sat down, looking at her straight in the eye. He simply could not hold it in anymore, he promised himself he would be calm and ask, but he could not.
Temari stared back. "What?" Her eyes widened in realisation.
He found out, before she could tell him.
"You, and Kakashi," he sucked his teeth, as he pressed his hand on the table. "It has to be a mistake."
"You knew," she said, her voice shaking as she reached for a cup that was not there.
"So it's true," he sat back in defeat, his eyes widening as he stared at her calm face.
"It is." She replied, putting her hands on her knees.
"Since when?" He wanted answers.
"We met a few months after your father passed away," she looked away and stared at the blank wall. If only he could listen.
"Until now - that is a very long time, like, almost eight years." He said with a cold laugh. "Almost half of the time of our marriage."
How could she? It was a difficult time, they had it rough… but how could she?
Temari said nothing, her face emotionless.
He does not understand, he does not know the entire truth, Temari …
"Aren't you going to explain to me?" Shikamaru looked at her, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "Like how you met, what you have been doing over the years, how you have been having sex under my nose … all that crap, aren't you going to fucking tell me Temari? Or are you planning to hide it from me until the day I die, or when you die?"
He stopped, when Temari laughed coldly. How can she be laughing? Does she find it amusing?
"Does it matter, Shikamaru?" She looked up sadly, an eerie smile hanging on her face. "Do you even care, Shikamaru?" He is so coated in anger now, he would not listen to her, everything she said will be a lie.
She had never seen him this angry, not since they were married.
Perhaps he cares. Perhaps he doesn't.
But does it matter?
"I don't care? If I don't care, I won't be here, Temari."
"Is that so?" Temari stood up. "Then where are you when I needed you? You weren't there, he was." She said loudly, her voice hysterical, almost screaming. "Every single time, when I need you to be here for me, you are not."
"So that's why? That is why you cheated on me, with a man, what, almost twenty years older than you?" He sneered.
"You know better than me when it comes to cheating Shikamaru." She snapped. "Nothing about a woman is ever important to you, all you care is about yourself."
He slammed his fist on the table. "I never once cheated on you since we got married, Temari." He glared. "Unlike you, I wonder if he is the only one, or are you going to tell me there are others too?"
Temari glared back. "You don't understand." The anger in her voice subsided, it was instead, coated with sadness that seemed to know no depths.
"I don't - you know what, fuck it." Shooting up from his seat, he slammed the chair he was sitting on at the table, causing a loud bang. He grabbed his jacket from the rack, as well as his wallet and car keys. "Temari, I tried, I loved you the best that I could, what I could do I did, what I didn't do I tried."
He slammed the door as the exited the house.
It was all quiet, as his footsteps faded further and further away, it was so quiet in the house, Temari thought she could hear her heart break.
She found the way back to the room, slumping onto the bed, she stared at the wall in front of her.
There was a wedding picture in front of her, both of them looked radiant, happy - he stared into her eyes, she stared into his, lovingly - there was no one else behind those eyes, no Ino, no Kakashi, no Hidan - just the two of them.
Temari closed her eyes - she could not bare to see the photo.
She took a deep breath.
And two.
At the same moment, she went to the dressing table, finding the key hidden beneath her box of cosmetics, she opened the drawer.
Taking out the box, she sighed.
She had not opened this box for a very, very long while.
She did anyway.
Inside, was a piece of paper, carefully folded into a small, white rectangle.
It was buried deep in her mind, deep in her feinted happiness, deep in her facade of what seemed to be a family.
Gently, she unfolded the rectangle - the white piece was covered in small dark letters.
It was a doctor's certificate, to some it might be a report of one's health, but to Temari, it was death staring straight at her face.
This was her medical report, eight years ago.
She was all alone - Shikamaru had gone home with his mother, to arrange for Shikaku's grave in the countryside. She was alone, with Shikadai.
She had never been stable with her menstrual cycle - often it came early, or late, it was as unpredictable as a meteorite, striking at anytime.
She paid little attention when her period was missing for a few months - not when Shikadai was first adjusting to elementary school, and her father-in-law's sudden passing … everything was too chaotic.
When she did notice, it was too late.
The unusual amount of blood startled her, making sure that Shikadai was well taken care of, she rushed herself to the hospital.
"I am sorry," the doctor said. "She was almost 19 weeks."
She could not say anything, she could barely eat anything.
The one time she tried to tell him, he picked up the phone and told her that he was busy.
Perhaps her voice was too calm, too calm for a woman who had just lost her unborn child.
She never tried to tell him again.
Holding the paper close to her chest, she sighed softly. "I am so sorry." She whispered, as she gently folded the piece of paper back into a small, rigid rectangle.
She looked around, this was her home for almost eighteen years now - but now, she was here in this empty house, all alone.
She does not belong here.
She does not want to be here.
Shikadai opened the door to his house, it was ten at night, the house was empty - the lights were switched off, there was no trace or scent of cooking.
Baffled by the hollowness, he cleared his throat. "I am home."
There was no answer, but the echo of his own voice.
He stepped in, arching an eyebrow in confusion as he took off his shoes.
No one was there, not his father, not his mother.
He wiped out his mobile phone and called.
"Hi, this is the mailbox of Temari, leave a message, I will return your call as soon as possible."
His mother's voice echoed in his mind, as he ended the call and dialed his father.
"You have reached the mailbox of Nara Shikamaru. Please leave a message."
In frustration, he put his phone away.
No one was in the kitchen, nor in the bathroom, nor in the study.
As he walked into his parents' bedroom, nothing seemed to be different, except for one thing.
The realisation came to him as he opened the wardrobe, it was normal at first, but then he noticed - some of his mother's clothes were missing.
He checked around the room, while most of her belongings were still here, part of them were gone.
As he reached the dressing table, he saw a small, silvery piece sitting atop the table.
It was his mother's wedding ring.
His eyes widened, as he wiped out his phone again, he dialed his father hastily.
"You have reached…" he ended the call as he entered his room, surely his mother did leave something for him, surely she would not leave without saying anything.
And she did.
A piece of paper sat on the table, with his name scribbled on top of it.
It was his mother's handwriting.
He was scared to open it, as he reached out.
What if those were her last words? What if she already killed herself?
He gently unfolded the piece of paper, as he quickly glanced through.
Dear Shikadai,
I will not be back for some time. Take good care of yourself.
Remember: I will always love you.
Always yours,
Mama
He used to call her 'mama', when he was young. Growing up, Mama became mom, and later, it became 'my mom', 'the troublesome woman'...
He clutched the piece of paper in his hand, where could his father be?
He tried to call his office, he was not there.
He tried to call his mobile again, it went to voicemail.
Where could he be?
He ripped a loud scream through the silence of his house, as he slowly crumbled down and sat, leaning next to his bed.
The silence was almost suffocating, there was a whiteness spreading in his mind, as he tried to think.
As his mind gone blank, the persistent ring on his doorbell startled him.
Standing up weakly, he walked over to the door and opened the door slowly.
"What happened?" She was blonde, blue-green eyes glancing around and finally rested upon his face. "Are you alright? We could hear you scream."
"I am not, but you're right." Shikadai opened the door as Yodo walked inside. "Something is definitely wrong with my parents, and now, my mother is gone."
He slumped against the wall and slowly, he slid down and crashed onto the floor. "It's too late now, she is gone, he is not here, and I have no idea where to find them."
He pressed his face into his hands. "It is my fault, I should have made them sit down and talk it out, it is all my fault."
Yodo stared as this boy began to break down in front of her, she knelt down in front of him, as the sound of his quiet sobs echoed in the empty house.
Slowly, she reached out, gently cradling his head with her arms. He did not flinch, as he turned his face and buried himself onto her shoulder.
"Shh.. hush now," she said gently, frowning with a soft smile. "What a crybaby." She rested her head atop his, her arms around his head.
She could feel his arms gently moving up and wrapping her torso tightly in his embrace.
"Don't go." He muttered. "Please, I don't want to here alone."
"I am not going anywhere," she smiled as she patted on his back, gently, she held his hand up.
"But first, you should get some rest, tomorrow we will go look for your mother, with your father perhaps."
Shikadai rubbed his teary eyes and nodded, his grasp on her tight. "Sorry I am such a mess."
"Been there," Yodo smiled back. "I am gonna stay here, until you fall asleep."
Shikadai nodded, as he walked into the bathroom.
At least, when everyone was gone, someone was there for him.
She was there for him.
Author's note:
Well ... although she did not tell him, he finally knew, and now you know why Temari was so different all in a sudden :(
I did put in some ShikaYodo, but still poor Shikadai ...
And where has Shikamaru gone to? Who told him?
Anyways ... stay tuned xoxo
V.S.V
P.S. Does anyone recognise the quote/ reference to Kevin Hart - that line gave me some inspiration for this chapter (funny how I got inspiration for such a sad scene from a comedian :p)