Sorry guys! The past week was pretty busy for me. I'm sorry if it looks like I won't be able to keep to that weekly update, but I will of course try to update as quickly as I possibly can!

Thank you for the additional followers to the story! I am really happy that you guys are interested in this story!

Special thanks for those who reviewed the last chapter and for those who did recently for any and all chapters: fanofthisfiction, ALIASTESIN, QveenLo, SariaKasumi, GUYFawke, Lock on Lockon, Rose-Aki, shikamaru-is-bae, spilihp17, Yu, SnowHusky20, TooLazyToLogIn1.

Yu, regarding your question, thank you for that and I actually thought of the same thing after I posted the chapter. Haha. I will take care of that in the following chapter hopefully.

Chapter Four

Moonlight shined through the glass panes, illuminating the hallway where Gaara strolled down. It was a habit he took to since he was a young boy, consumed by darkness, and he was never able to quite shake it off. As always, myriad thoughts passed through his mind. But this night like the several nights before it, his thoughts came back to the situation of his sister's and Shikamaru's engagement.

Love was a concept that haunted him since childhood. When he was a mere child, isolated by the villagers of the Sand by order of his late father who was also the former Kazekage, his uncle Yashamaru told him that only love could heal a wounded heart. He went through hellish and monstrous trials to understand and grasp the meaning of love. And he finally managed to find it in his family and friends and eventually his village.

This bond between his sister and Shikamaru however seemed to be the type of love he had yet to fully comprehend. This so called romantic love seemed as powerful, if not more, than familial love. It certainly had his sister act in ways that he had never thought possible.

Recently though, it had made his sister strangely detached. Forlorn he could almost describe her if he did not fear her punishment for calling her so.

As he neared the library, he saw the door ajar with a bit of light shining through. Gently so as to make the least amount of noise, he pushed the door open. Temari was surrounded by large texts and such but she herself was fast asleep with her head in her folded arms on a wooden desk. It was a curious scene since his older sister would usually not be caught dead in such a circumstance. Being caught with her guard down like this was unacceptable and would shoot down her pride a peg or two.

Seeing that, he returned to his room, took a blanket and came back to the library. He carefully laid the blanket over his sister, tucking about her shoulders. Before leaving, he caught the words on some of the titles of the texts she had about her.

Marriage laws. Engagement policies. Intervillage fraternization laws. Etc.

Somehow he managed a smile. His sister was definitely no pushover, that's for sure.

As he left the room, he continued his earlier musings.

Uncle Yashamaru, what if love itself is the cause of a broken heart, how will it heal then?If the solution is also the cause, what can one do with one's wounded heart? Is there perhaps a secondary solution to love? Or mayhap you meant different types of love can be various sorts of medicines? Is familial love sufficient to recover a heart that is wounded by romantic love? And vice versa? Or perhaps love borne from a close friendship could be the source of healing? Or would you say one has to find another source of romantic love? But is not one destined to only have one romantic love? That red string of fate, they say? Or is it merely a fanciful myth designed for bedtime stories for young starry-eyed innocents?

If all those presumptions are proven wrong, is it still possible for the wounded heart to heal? I should hope so for my sister's sake. I do not think Temari is the sort who would throw her life away because of such a thing. It is clear that she is still fighting. But she can put up quite a facade. I do not want to see a fighting outer shell yet have a deteriorating inner self. Uncle, I do wish you could tell me the answer. Because as of now, I can only hope I am doing the proper thing.

0000000000

Two nights ago

Temari glared at the ceiling of her bedroom wall. She tried everything to fall asleep. Exercising, counting imaginary sheep, drinking a warm glass of milk, reading boring history texts, etc. And still, sleep eluded her.

And shadows consumed her room. As if his presence had just been hiding by the day and biding its time, allowing her to let down her guard. Then he pounced by the cover of the night, fiercely reminding her that he was not by any means finished with her. That he was relentless. That he would not give up.

Which was extremely out of character for the likes of him.

A bitter laugh came out of her. That was some fanciful thinking, she thought to herself. After the way she treated him, she would be surprised if he ever came to Suna again. But then again, that was the plan after all.

Her brother, his vital role, and the village took precedence. It was that simple.

Yet that did not make her forget what shadows were capable of. How it could lure you to fruits of forbidden delights. How enticing its whispers could be. The subtle strength in his limbs that made her whimper. The deliberately soft touch of his hands that made her ache. His smoky, intent gaze that made her burn.

Temari turned over, buried her face in her pillow and screamed, unloading her frustrations into it.

She had never been the type to be ashamed of the earthly yearnings of her body. But now that the person it longed for was someone she made sure would no longer be accessible to her, the tension within grew increasingly unbearable. More than the heat burgeoning inside her though was the images that aggressively bombarded her mind without warning.

And surprisingly, some of the images were not that of the sexually intimate kind but rather the sort of intimacy that was pure. The way he softly laughed at her antics, the way he raised a brow arrogantly, the way his mouth curved into a lazy smirk, the way he would absentmindedly take her hand in his or pull playfully at her pigtail...

Raising her head, she slammed her head into the pillow while clutching onto its sides. Get a grip on yourself, Temari. Seriously. Stop acting like you're part of a star-crossed lovers drama. This is the way it has to be. Get used to it.

I never took you for a quitter, Tem.

Bloody hell, get out of my head, Shika.

You're hilarious as usual.

Stop provoking me, dammit!

I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me to be.

That's ridiculous.

You do realize I'm not really here, right? You left me in Konoha deliberately.

Yes, I did for a reason! Wait ...what am I doing? Have I gone insane? This is not helping at all. And I'm not a quitter! If there was a solution, I would have done it already!

...

Turning over, she sat up abruptly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Is there?" she muttered. "Did I even bother to find one? Or was I just too blinded by panic? Or by fear for my brother? I let that old lady get to my head!"

Spirits renewed and determination lit her teal eyes, not bothering to change out of her nightwear, she headed for the library with long, quick strides. Yet as she did so, it was not her brother who was at the forefront of her mind.

She remembered the way his eyes looked stunned when she announced their engagement was a hoax and her hands clenched. She remembered the way disbelief clouded his face as he tried to reason with her and her chest ached. She remembered the way he accused her of lying and she could not help but smile a little. She remembered the way he restrained her with his shadows and the sensations that flooded her even when he had not touched her yet. She remembered the way he traced her mouth and neck with the lightest of caresses and made her want to blurt out the truth and have her way with him. She remembered how he smirked when he realized she still wanted him and how equally humiliated and aroused she was. She remembered the intense guilt that filled her when she forced herself to hit him as her last resort to convince him of her betrayal and how much she wanted to stay when he collapsed to his knees. She remembered how she fought to stay in her apartment when she clearly wanted to rush to his as was her primary instinct.

As she pushed open the thick oak doors to the library with a firm resolve, there was only one thing running through her mind.

You and I are not over, Shikamaru Nara. Not if I have anything to say about it.

0000000000

Present time

As Gaara returned to his room, he met Kankuro on the way.

"She's still at it?" Kankuro asked, gesturing towards the library.

For some reason, he was not surprised that his brother was aware of his sister's whereabouts and her activities. Kankuro could be silly and insensitive but when it came to family, he was loyal and fierce even if he might say otherwise. "Yes, she is quite determined."

"Of course she is. Never seen her head over heels over anyone else. And I have to admit Nara does complement her temperament," Kankuro said with a ring of certainty in his voice.

Gaara nodded. Despite the stark difference in personalities, both brothers could see that Temari and Shikamaru matched each other well. "That is undeniable. Let us hope things will improve soon."

Kankuro raised his brow at that. "Knowing that elder? I doubt it. I wonder though why she's so dead set against this marriage." He absentmindedly scratched at his chin, lost in thought.

"Did she not say it is for the village?"

"Hmm. I dunno but she's never been that adamant about anything before. I mean I know this is a crucial intervillage issue but something's off somehow."

There was a pregnant pause between the brothers. The two exchanged meaningful looks.

Gaara said slowly, "She does seem more incensed than usual. Perhaps you have a point."

"So you also think something else is going on here?"

"That is a possibility."

"It would be really satisfying to catch that elder in a sort of scandal."

"Kankuro, not so loud."

"What? You were thinking it too."

"It is bad form for a Kazekage to think of such." But Gaara grinned at his brother and Kankuro smirked and said, "Of course the Kazekage would not think ill of his people."

"Most definitely, brother."

They continued to walk in silence until they were in front of Gaara's room. His hand was already turning the knob when he turned to his brother and asked on a whim, "Do you believe in the red string of fate, Kankuro?"

Kankuro stared incredulously at his younger brother, hoping there was some sort of punch line. But this was Gaara so there was no such hope for that. He sputtered before saying, "Why are you asking me that? I thought you agreed that Temari and Nara suited each other."

"Well, yes, they do. But that does not mean they were destined by fate. I mean, they could be. But how are we to know such a thing?"

"I guess we wouldn't," Kankuro said with a mildly embarrassed look on his face.

"So do you?" Gaara persisted, heedless of Kankuro's discomfort.

"Do I what?"

"Do you believe in the red string of fate? Wait, you have been with many women, have you not? Was it because you were trying to see if you might be connected with them in such a way that you can interpret that the red string of fate connects the two of you and once you failed, you moved onto another and-" Gaara paused when Kankuro held his hand up with a pained expression on his face.

"Ahhh. Stop. I'm not gonna answer you. I'm going to sleep." A red-faced Kankuro practically ran off to his room.

"Very curious indeed," Gaara murmured before entering his room.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one. Hmm. Most likely what most of you are waiting for might be in the next chapter.