It was a sort of perfect irony that had taken control of his fate. His childhood dreams of marrying an average-looking woman, having a girl and a boy, and retiring when his daughter was married and his son was independent were suddenly dashed—shattered against the rocky shore by some sort of cruel tide. Or, perhaps, 'wind' would be a better analogy in this case.
She, with her insistent nature and brash attitude, had forced herself into his life violently, entering with an ominous sort of suddenness that told him life was never going to be quite the same again. He was absolutely right, in that respect.
He'd had his fair share of dealing with bossy women, being on the same team with the infamous Yamanaka Ino as he was, but she was something different. She didn't yell and scream and shove to get her way, but she had a strange, subtle sort of domination over him that made him feel… Well, 'whipped' was been the term Kiba had used for it. Her annoyed frowns and challenging smirks seemed ever constant, but he relished in the rare moments when she smiled at him. Everyone had a somewhat quirky smile, he supposed, and she was certainly no different. When she smiled, her mouth would curve up peculiarly, displaying all of her teeth in an almost predatory way. It was somewhat intimidating to look at, but nice all the same.
"Shikamaru…?" his wife's voice called to him, drifting down the stairway. There was a slight hitch in it, and he immediately grimaced. He knew that she didn't like waking up alone, especially without a note on his pillow to tell her where he'd gone.
He jerked his head around to look up, seeing her standing on the top step, staring down at him with an odd expression on her face. Relief, he supposed.
The genius took a long moment to study his wife—her sand-colored hair was down, reaching just past her shoulder blades, her thin white yukata was wrapped awkwardly around her, and, though she'd just woken up moments ago, her dark blue-green eyes were oddly clear and alert. A side effect of having been a shinobi all her life, perhaps.
He smiled slightly, apologetic. "Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, "I was just checking up on Shikari."
Their daughter had fallen asleep on the couch that evening, and considering what a light sleeper she was, they'd been afraid to move her. While he had always been somewhat protective of those he cared for, fatherhood had made him infinitely more so.
The stairs creaked gently as she padded down the steps, leaning heavily against the railing. "Is she still waiting for the stork to come?" Temari laughed lightly, wrapping her arms around her husband's waist as she came to stand behind him. It was an awkward position at best, and so they both shifted around until their positions were reversed. "She's excited about her little baby sister."
Shikamaru hummed in the back of his throat, resting his head on top of his wife's and brushing a thumb across her swollen abdomen. "Me too."
She turned her head slightly, looking at him with calculating eyes. "Even though you wanted a boy?"
"Some things turn out better than you first expect."
Yeah, I still don't own Naruto.