Hopefully the first in a series of works for ShikaTema Month but let's see if I run out of energy later :')

Leaves were starting to fall again, their orange and red hues painting the blue sky vivid colors. Shikamaru could see them fall in droves from his vantage point on the grassy floors of his family's lands, his back against an old maple tree. He yawned slightly, his hands behind his head, gazing up at the leaves and the clouds.

It was a typical weekend evening, with the wind blowing gently, ruffling the strands of hair that had escaped their confines on his head. He absentmindedly brushed aside the ones falling in his eyes, content with simply watching nature go by. The older he got, the less time he had for these little moments, and he took them whenever he could.

"What are you doing, old man?" a voice piped up.

Shikamaru glanced lazily in the direction of his house, where his young son stood, his hands crossed in boredom (though, if Shikamaru had said that out loud, ten year old Shikadai would have protested that, no, he was not young. Shikamaru chuckled at the thought–his son had his mother's pride).

"Looking at the leaves," Shikamaru replied, picking one up from the floor and twirling it in his fingers.

Curious, Shikadai approached him, settling down next to him with a thump that shook the nearby branches.

"What's so interesting about the leaves?" his son asked. "Isn't it cold out here?"

Shikamaru smiled, watching his son shiver slightly, but too stubborn to go back in. "Sure, it's cold. But I like being out here. Sometimes, you just have to take it slow and enjoy the small things in life."

"Yeah. Okay." Shikadai shifted, rustling leaves with his legs. "You and Mom sure are weird, you know. You watch clouds and leaves, and Mom listens to the wind."

"We like it," Shikamaru said. "Besides, your mother's a wind user. You know that. She grew up with the wind. There's less of it in Konoha, but she still likes to seek them out. Keeps her senses sharp."

"And it reminds her of Suna," Shikadai added, a little somberly.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a little while, father and son lost in thought as they watched autumn make its presence known. Soon, the coldness in the air would turn harsh as water turned to snow and ice, and they could no longer afford to sit outside anymore.

"Hey, Dad?" Shikadai spoke up again, his breath fogging in the air.

"Hm?"

"If Mom loves Suna so much, then why did she leave?"

Shikamaru hummed a little, deep in thought. He had considered the same thing many times before, back when Shikadai had not even existed yet. He had never really asked Temari about it, though he had his own theories.

"I guess she loved me more," he finally said. "Enough to sacrifice that."

"I don't get it," said Shikadai. "I don't think I could ever leave Konoha."

"You'll understand one day," Shikamaru said. "It's the sacrifices we're willing to make that define us."

"That makes no sense," Shikadai said, making a face. "I don't like sacrifices."

Shikamaru thought of his father and of Asuma, of Uncle Inoichi and Neji. He even thought of Naruto's father, the fourth Hokage–those who never got to see the peace they now held.

"Sometimes sacrifices are all we have," Shikamaru said quietly. "Sacrifice, and faith."

"And what did you sacrifice, Dad? By marrying Mom?"

"Not enough," Shikamaru said. "Not enough to be worthy of her."

He had sacrificed only his dreams of a quiet, easy life with two kids. But even then, Shikamaru knew those had been the idealistic dreams of a child, the kind of dreams that were supposed to carry him to adulthood, but no further. A sacrifice he had easily made, compared to any other choice presented in his life.

"That doesn't seem fair, then," Shikadai said.

"Yeah," Shikamaru agreed. "It isn't. But love is strange like that. If love ran on logic, we'd all be in love, I think. Instead, we struggle with it, and do the best we can. And that's why I'll never argue against your mother, either."

He glanced at his son. "If she says no more gaming for the day, then that means no more."

Shikadai pouted. "But I was almost done with the quest!"

"And you'll always have tomorrow." Shikamaru stood up. "Come on. It's almost dinnertime. Your mother will have our heads if we're late."

He extended a hand to his son, who grasped it, pulling himself up. "Okay."

Together, the two of them walked back into the warmth of their house.

.

After dinner, Shikamaru found himself sitting with Shikadai in the living room, a shogi board placed between them.

"Are you sure this won't be boring?" Shikadai asked. "Shogi doesn't even have moving parts or colors. Where are the bosses to fight? The equipment to gather? There's no save button, either. I always see you and Mom sit here for hours."

"Well, if you don't want to play, you can always find something else to do," Temari said. She was leaning against the wall, watching them with fond interest.

"Right," said Shikadai, "so does this mean I can–"

"No video games," Temari said firmly.

Shikadai scowled. "Fine. Teach me the boring game, old man. It can't be that hard."

Shikamaru smirked bemusedly. "Oh, you have much to learn, Shikadai."

Shikadai rolled his eyes. "Just get on with it."

Shikamaru set up the pieces and explained the rules, and then they began to play. He went easy on his son, watching as Shikadai's teal eyes trained on every move he made, and how his eyebrows furrowed together in frustrated thought, in the same way his mother did.

"Not so easy, is it?" Shikamaru said.

"I'll get it eventually," Shikadai huffed. "It's my first time, you know. I just need more practice."

Temari, who had moved from the wall to the couch, raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said this was a boring game for old people?"

"Well, okay, maybe not that boring," Shikadai conceded. "I'd still rather be playing video games, though. But I can't just let Dad beat me like this, in just a few moves! That's embarrassing."

"You should just admit defeat," Shikamaru said, smiling. He could see Temari's stubbornness and competitiveness coming to light in their son. "You can't beat me. No one can. Just ask your mother."

"Oh, so now our fight in the chuunin exams was your win, was it?" Temari asked coolly. "I seem to recall you insisting it was my win–which it was."

Shikamaru cleared his throat. "Anyway, keep at it, Shikadai. I'm sure you'll be able to beat Kankuro, at least, if you keep practicing. For now, it's getting late and I think it's bedtime for you."

Shikadai knew better than to argue, grumbling, "Yeah, okay, whatever."

The young boy got up from the floor, stretching a little as he prepared to go upstairs to his room.

"Want us to tuck you in?" Shikamaru asked, grinning a little.

As expected, Shikadai gave him an indignant look. "I'm not a baby, Dad! I'm ten!"

Shikamaru and Temari exchanged amused looks.

"Alright, alright," Shikamaru said. "Good night then, Shikadai."

"Good night, Dad, Mom," Shikadai said, ambling up the stairs.

"Good night," Temari called after him. "And don't forget to brush your teeth!"

"Yeah, okay! Yeesh! Troublesome!" came Shikadai's impatient reply.

"He gets that attitude from you, you know," Temari said, getting off the couch to take over Shikadai's vacated spot.

"He also gets his brains from me," Shikamaru said, a little smugly.

She shoved him lightly. "Don't push you luck, Nara. We all know I won the chuunin exams."

"You did not. I forfeited."

"Same thing. Still my win."

Shikamaru threw up his hands in defeat. "Yeah. Okay."

Temari smirked at him, though he noticed her eyes softening at the shared memory.

"Anyway, let's have a game," Temari said, rearranging the pieces on the shogi board. "You go first."

Shikamaru looked at her. "You sure? You know I always win, regardless. Do you really want to take the disadvantage?"

"Just make your move, Nara. Don't think I'll be that easy to beat. I'm not ten."

Shikamaru laughed, making his move. "We've been doing this every other night. You still have yet to beat me."

"Not true. I've won a couple of times."

"Only because I let you."

Temari rolled her eyes, moving her next piece. "If you say so."

They continued to play for half an hour, before Shikamaru placed his last piece onto the board with a broad grin. "Looks like I've won again."

Temari stared at the board, narrowing her eyes. "You didn't cheat, did you?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't dare, not with you, Temari."

She sighed. "Fine. I guess you win, though I hate that you did. Let's go again."

"A rematch?" Shikamaru asked. "It's getting late, though, and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Kakashi has big plans for the week."

Temari scoffed. "Don't tell me you're afraid of losing?"

"Nah. I just want to spare you the humiliation when I win again."

Temari threw a shogi piece at him. "Don't be so cocky, Shikamaru."

She set up the board again and looked at him expectantly.

Shikamaru knew she would not relent. He smirked. "Alright. Fine. You go first, this time. Show me what you've got."

Temari gave an indignant huff and made her first move. Shikamaru arched an eyebrow at the action.

"You're going with that?" Shikamaru said.

"I don't recall asking you for your opinion," Temari replied.

"I'm giving it freely."

"Oh, shut up, and make your move."

Shikamaru pretended to ponder, stroking his goatee for a full minute while Temari glared murderously at him. Finally, he made his move, chuckling a little at his wife's reaction. They exchanged a few more moves in silence before Shikamaru spoke up.

"Hey, Temari?"

"What?" She was watching the board instead of him, one hand tapping the board absentmindedly, but Shikamaru preferred it that way. He liked watching her concentrate, knowing that she would never back down. She burned as brightly as the sun from the lands she came from, always erasing the shadows of doubt within his mind.

"What?" Temari repeated, when Shikamaru did not answer right away. She paused, looking up at him, their eyes meeting.

Concern flickered in her eyes, and Shikamaru said, "You're stunning, you know that? Like a burst of flame in the desert night. Blinding, but hopeful."

She frowned at him, though Shikamaru saw her face go red. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"You know it is." Even after years of marriage, Shikamaru liked that he was still able to catch her by surprise.

Temari cleared her throat, making her move. "Did you do something wrong? It's not a holiday, and it's not our anniversary, and you're not drunk. You don't usually dole out compliments like that."

Shikamaru shrugged. "Do I need a reason to?"

"I guess not." She hesitated, and then said very quietly, "Thanks."

"You're amazing, and I need you to know that," he said simply. "And to answer you, well, Shikadai and I were talking today. And he asked why you left Suna."

"What did you tell him?" Temari asked carefully.

"I told him that we all make sacrifices for love."

"That's true." Temari looked away, and Shikamaru knew she was thinking about her brothers, and about her parents, dreaming of a world of sand.

"Shall we go visit Suna next weekend?" Shikamaru asked suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean, none of us have plans next weekend, right? Or, at least Shikadai hasn't mentioned anything like that to me. So, why don't we go visit your brothers in Suna?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Not that I wouldn't love to, but why?"

"Just because we make sacrifices, doesn't mean we should always make them," Shikamaru said softly. "It's true you chose me over Suna. But I don't think that means you should leave Suna entirely. I don't think it means you can't visit whenever you want to."

"Okay. Let's go."

Shikamaru smiled at her, and then set the piece he had been holding onto during their conversation down onto the board. "Checkmate."

"Were you just trying to distract me from our game?"

"No," Shikamaru said. "Maybe."

She sighed at him. "I hate you sometimes."

"I know," Shikamaru said. He began to clean up the shogi pieces. "But I was serious about going to Suna over the weekend. Let's give your brothers a scare and pop up unannounced."

"Oh, the council will hate that," said Temari. "They're so uptight about visits and proper paperwork."

"I know, but that's their problem to deal with." Shikamaru finished sweeping up the last shogi piece and put the game away. "Besides, we both know Gaara enjoys watching them squirm."

Temari let out a laugh. "Yeah."

They made their way back onto the couch, leaning against each other. They watched the night sky, comforted by each other's presence.

Shikamaru had his arm around his wife's shoulder and could feel her breathing. Her heart beat against his, in tune with each other.

"I'll go tell Kakashi tomorrow," Shikamaru said. "It's not like he can fire me over one weekend. We'll have to pack the winter gear though. I think Suna's really cold already at this time of year, right?"

"Yeah. You would never survive living there the whole year, Shikamaru," Temari said.

"Oh, I know. I am absolutely a coward. But that's why I have you. I know you'll always come to save me."

"You bet I will. " She smiled and leaned closer to him. "You're sure you won't find it troublesome? Visiting Suna and my brothers, and having the council ambush us about Konoha?"

"When it comes to you? It's always troublesome. But that's my sacrifice to make."