Day 13

Sleep

--

She watches him across the board, disinterested. Her eyes are a pair of dark diamonds, hard, glistening, judging him. He makes the final move, checkmating her, and she shrugs.

"Rematch sometime." It wasn't a question.

Ino would call her pretty, but he's not sure. Too skinny, too tall. But such deep eyes. She smiles, her smile is pretty, too.

"Next week."

"Sure. Same time."

She stands up and pushes long hair over her shoulder, making way for her tessen to be fitted to her back. The weapon seems strangely disproportionate, like her light frame shouldn't be able to support it. It's black, undecorated.

He watches her when she strolls away. Hips swing gently, footfalls dainty, she fades into the crowd, just another kunoichi. He can't help but smile as he watches her leave.

--

Temari shut her bedroom door behind her, leaning against it for just a moment. A groan escaped her lips and a shuddering sigh from her lungs. The days weren't difficult, but they were exhausting. An attack was imminent, and every second that it didn't happen might mean they'd found a way past her baby brother's defences.

Standing in front of a building wasn't hard, fearing for her village was.

So by the time she had finally relinquished her watch her chest was aching and her stomach was turning. She needed a hot shower and a long, long night's rest. Not that she would sleep easily, she never did on high alert, drifting in and out of sleep restlessly, never fully rested. It was almost more tiring than having no sleep at all.

Temari untied her hair, letting it fall loosely around her face, running her fingers through it to help it fall more comfortably. Shower, bed, fantastic.

Knock knock.

She was too tired at this point to get even a little angry at the sound, instead her shoulders slumped in frustration and she sighed.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

Shikamaru. He must have just arrived in town, since he wasn't there when she'd finished her shift. She opened the door a crack, looking up into his dark, tired eyes. He looked as exhausted as her.

"What is it?"

"I have something you might want to see."

She opened the door a little more. He held up his backpack and she heard a distinct murmuring sound coming from inside. Temari wrenched the door open, hauling him inside by the scruff of his shirt and slamming the door behind him. The sheer audacity of that man sometimes amazed her.

"You brought him here?"

"He was upsetting the deer," Shikamaru offered by way of explanation. He smacked the bag against his knee, quieting the murmuring.

Temari looked at him in disbelief. He was so tired, sweaty and dusty from the road, it was impossible to be angry with him. Even when she tried, the only responses she had to his actions were some fairly colourful curse words, nothing even bordering on intelligent.

"When I said I'd kill him for you I didn't mean 'dig him up and bring him to my bedroom'!"

He jut gave her a pitiful look. His broad shoulders were slumped and wisps of his hair fell around his face, threatening to break free of its tie completely. "Will you just tell me where I can put him so I can go and get some sleep?"

"Where you can..." She shook her head, trying to shake away the cloudiness that was overwhelming her mind. "Just... give me a sec."

Temari slumped onto her bed, not objecting when he sat down on the other side. She had only come in to sleep because she couldn't even carry out duties that had been ingrained into her for years, and trust Nara Shikamaru to choose this moment to throw her a curve ball. This seemed more like one of Kankurou's jokes than reality.

Temari, what is the storage protocol for the living severed head of an enemy troop? Quick!

The morgue? The hospital? No, this was classified. Should she inform Gaara? Hell no. She wasn't leaving her room, Shikamaru could go where he needed to. This wasn't in her training, this wasn't even her business. She realised that her tired mind had simply wandered off and she had been sitting in silence for several minutes, drawing blank after blank.

"You kept it." His equally dopey voice broke Temari out of her reverie. She followed his gaze and rested on the framed shougi piece on her shelf. The king from the first game she won.

"Yeah. I earned it."

She looked down in frustration at the backpack in her hands. There had to be a solution to this that didn't involve her trekking all over the city at this time of night. She knew her judgement was impaired. She knew that Gaara should know about it and they should follow proper procedure.

That didn't stop her from using the last of her energy to jump up, fling open her wardrobe doors, drop kick the pack as far back as she could, then close the doors again.

There, problem solved until morning.

She turned back to Shikamaru to see if he agreed with her solution, only to find him fast asleep on her bed. If her eyes weren't fluttering shut on their own she might have objected. Might have kicked his ass out and told him to find a guest room. But her limbs were heavy, her eyes wouldn't focus.

She lay down next to him, the bed more than big enough to accommodate them both, and finally, blissfully let her eyes close.

"Temari?" he mumbled.

"Mm?"

"You look pretty with your hair down."

She couldn't find the energy to be embarrassed or flattered as the blackness of sleep engulfed her.

--

They were coming. Gaara looked down at his paperwork, forcing himself to focus. Temari had retired for the night after 24 unbroken hours of guard duty, Kankurou taking up the night watch, and there were no signs of any missing nin in Suna. With Kakashi's abandonment of Konoha, it was certain that whatever their greater plan was, they were ready to put it into action, and they wouldn't wait on his convenience to attack him.

It would have been comforting, if naïve, to think that they wouldn't find the scroll. His mind replayed every time Seiya had touched his gourd, every time he had been to the hospital, every time since he had hidden the scroll that might have given her the slightest clue to its whereabouts. There was no way that she knew before she left Suna or she wouldn't have stolen the decoy, but now that she knew it was fake there would only be so much time before she guessed at its location. Maybe they would capture and torture him for its whereabouts. It didn't really matter how they found it, they would, eventually.

The sun had long since set, he knew that he should go to bed. He should have eaten hours ago but had no appetite. He needed to be at the top of his game to keep Suna and his family safe, but he couldn't bear to go home, his gourd now felt like a time bomb. If he brought it into his home there was always the chance that three missing nin would slip in during the night, not caring who they killed to get their prize.

Gaara looked up to the door at the sounds of a gentle knocking. He already knew from the knock who it was and set down his pen.

"Come in."

Matsuri pushed the door open with her hip, hands full with boxes of food. She smiled at him, her short, boyish hair bobbing around her pretty face.

"Gaara-kun, you haven't eaten dinner yet." Her voice was sweet with a light reprimand as she sat down in front of his desk.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, the days ahead may require you to be strong. The kitchen will be very upset if you refuse their food."

She wasn't bossing him around, he knew that. His wife was never bossy. It was up to her to make sure he ate and slept and didn't overwork himself, and she always seemed demure in her demands. So he accepted one of the boxes without further complaint, letting her take the other. Although her didn't feel hungry at first, as soon as the first bite hit his lips he was ravenous.

"Will you be coming home tonight?"

"I will be staying here until Okama Seiya is caught."

"I'll make sure your futon is brought up, please promise me you'll get some sleep."

He smiled. She didn't even ask why, she trusted him so completely. "I promise."

They ate in silence for several minutes, but he was anxious. Any moment could bring the attack they were waiting on, and now Matsuri was sitting right in front of him, licking rice off her chopsticks, taking care of him. It was so rare that he was targeted directly, he wasn't used to being separated from her, he couldn't help but steal these few precious moments.

"Matsuri-chan," he said. "Please don't be offended, but after this meal we cannot see each other for a while. We believe that soon Seiya-san will be targeting me directly, and I cannot risk your safety."

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "I take it that I won't be allowed to leave the manor, either."

"I'm sorry. This will be over soon."

Matsuri leaned over his desk and playfully stole a bite of his food. He smiled and snatched her hand when she tried for a second, bringing her fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. She smiled so sweetly at him that he wished he could just take her home and fall asleep beside her. Married men shouldn't be trapped away from their wives. None of the other shinobi were forbidden from seeing their families.

"It won't be like this forever," Gaara promised.

"I know," she said. She was putting on a strong face, but he knew that it hurt her as much as him. He kept her fingers between his own, caressing the knuckled with his lips, wanting to hold her like that all night.

Matsuri stood up, moving around the desk and bringing them close together. She pressed her lips to his palm, all dark eyes and soft lips. His brave, beautiful wife.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." She let him plant a kiss on her cheek before stealing the last bite of his food and packing the boxes up. "I'll ask Kankurou to escort me home. Please be home as soon as you can."

It was more difficult forcing himself to focus than before.

--

Tsunade looked over the five pictures again. Again. Move them, match them. From one angle they were each perfect, from another horribly flawed.

A new Hokage.

A zealot, a genius, a healer, a warrior and a hunter.

A moron, a slacker, a narrow mind, an iron fist and a mouse.

It was so late at night, and the days were creeping by her. 23 days to go before she announced the Rokudaime Hokage, and she had nothing. She had hoped that if she just looked at the pictures long enough the right decision would come to her.

Tsunade looked at TonTon. "Hweh."

Hweh indeed. She could almost see Jiraiya watching her over her desk, eyebrow raised, as if to say why don't you choose my protege already?

"He's not ready." Talking to an empty room. That's what she was reduced to. "Maybe if the village was more stable."

She must have had too much sake, because she could swear that she saw him, slouched on the sofa, smiling at her. Ready to offer her a bottle of sake and ask if she'd like to be a test subject for his 'research'. Like he used to. Like he had never run off and got himself killed.

"What am I supposed to do?"

He didn't answer, just smiled at her. He was never a good looking man, just powerful and, when he wanted to be, dignified. His bulky form was relaxed, gentle as he beckoned her over.

She didn't move, couldn't move. If she touched him, he'd disappear, and she couldn't let that happen just yet. Just for a moment she needed to feel a little less alone. She was even deprived of Sakura's company now, and it was likely that she wouldn't see the girl again before the festival. It was just her and an empty office now.

Tsunade watched Jiraiya, his teasing smile, his honest face, and for a moment she wanted him to be there so badly it hurt.

Without thinking about it she walked to the sofa, closing her eyes and lying down, pretending just for a little while that he was more than just a memory.