Chapter 2

Home, Temari thought blindly to herself. She wanted to be home with Kankuro and Gaara. And Baki, she added almost sobbing at the thought. Baki would know what to do. Baki would fix this...this...this stupid stupid stupid mess she'd gotten herself into.

She paused in her packing long enough to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. She was glad Shikamaru wasn't around to see her, he might mistake the dust causing her eyes to water for tears.

Nara had at least had the decency to leave when she'd told him to, told him that she needed to pack. He'd stood there like a deer in the lights of an oncoming train for a few minutes and then simply said 'okay' and turned and left.

And that had certainly made it easier. He was either a helluva lot dumber than his genius reputation would have one believe or else...it didn't matter at all to him in the first place.

Temari winced. She wasn't sure which was worse - if he was an idiot or an asshole. Either way it did not matter one whit. She was out of here and going home.

Home. Suna. Sand. Home was a place where the air was clear and the sky was clear and your head was clear. She belonged in Suna with the sun and the sand and the clear blue overarching vault of sky above.

She did not belong here in Konoha with its water-laden humid air and lush forests. She did not belong in a place where the air was thick with fragrance and fruit. It bespoke of heaviness and fullness, a wealth of sheer abundant life that Suna never had.

Temari sat back on her heels and searched around the room for any few remaining things she might need to take with her.

Fortunately the apartment in the diplomatic quarters had been provided furnished, so any of the larger items would just stay here for her replacement when they arrived. She'd collected her own personal items. Some of Shikamaru's stuff was still here.

Looking down she realized that the t-shirt she was packing into her bag was actually one of his. She'd appropriated it for sleeping. For a brief bit she was torn, did it belong to her or to him? Should she pack it or leave it here? Chiding herself for agonizing over such a ridiculously small item as a t-shirt she hastily stuffed it into her bag. Hell, she'd worn it a lot more than he had.

And besides, she was sparing him a lifetime of a mistake, wasn't she? He owed her one t-shirt at least.

Tugging the drawstring closed on her bag she rose and carried it to place it beside the front door. She went and sat down on the sofa in the living room. She had some time to kill as the Suna team wouldn't be leaving until closer to dusk. Most desert-nin were accustomed to traveling by night to avoid the heat of the day. They typically changed their schedules when traveling with team members from other lands to accommodate them, however, this was an all-Suna group heading for home so they would follow their own customs.

That gave her some time to think about the brief final conversation she'd had with Shikamaru. How could he have been that...nonchalant about it? Why had she said what she did? Why hadn't she at least lied to him and told him that it had been a false positive?

That would have been the smart lie as opposed to the rather dumb lie she had told.

She could have just said the test was in error and that she'd had another done at the clinic and it had come back negative. Neat and tidy, a rather straightforward lie.

But this...this was...stupid. She'd told him that it had been positive but that she was no longer pregnant? A lie, yes as she was still very much pregnant. But how was she supposed to have become un-pregnant? An abortion? A miscarriage?

In the end it hadn't mattered at all. Shikamaru hadn't even asked.

Jerk. Asshole. Hadn't even asked.

Temari sighed. Maybe it was better anyway. She would have only had to compound her lie by coming up with details about a miscarriage that had not occurred or an abortion that had not yet occurred.

And she did have to admit, albeit grudgingly that he had at least asked if she were okay.

Temari stared at the clock, the seconds seemed to drag by as if they were caught up in syrup, each one tick separated by an agonizingly long space of time from the next. It was excrutiating.

She forced herself to get up and check her gear once more, testing the fasteners on her duffel and adjusting the straps on her sandals for traveling. Filling both water reservoirs she attached them securely to the sides of her duffel and made sure the drinking tubes were accessible. Then she filled two additional water carriers and stowed them in a compartment in the bottom of the pack as well.

It was one of the first things Baki had taught her about traveling, to always carry plenty of water. No matter how much she thought she would need he always had her pack an additional pair of carriers. Her sandals, too, she thought as she reached down and fingered the strap around the back of her heel. He'd taught her how to adjust them for traveling in sand or on other surfaces.

Hell, she thought back to the dimmest recesses of her memories, he'd probably even taught her how to fasten them when she first learned how. As far back as her memory stretched Baki had always been there for her, teaching her, helping her.

And now she was going home where Baki was. So that he could fix this.