Here it is, my lovlies, the third and final instalment of Temari's angsty ending.
Yes! It's done! I'm freeeeee!
But beware, those of you whose undies might get in a bunch, there's a sexy scene in here (not going to change the entire rating for a couple of paragraphs) It's at the end, and I didn't go very in depth. It was mainly about the feelings and worries and such.
"Okay, I've stimulated your muscles with chakra so that it will be easier to walk but you need to make sure to come back for physical therapy. I've written down a number for a psychiatrist -Shikamaru, I need you to make sure that she calls it. I don't care how well she says she is- I want you to come in for a checkup in a few weeks, and don't worry, I'll make sure to do it personally." She put the chart down on the side table and crouched down next to the side of the bed that Temari was sitting on, her eyes silently focused on the floor as she tried to remember how to breathe.
This was it. For the past couple of days they had kept her in her private room in the hospital, the only ones allowed to come in Shikamaru, Naruto, Sakura and the three mist nin, though they had left the day before. It had been safe, comforting. But with this she'd be leaving all of that and stepping out and into the unknown.
She just wasn't ready yet. Not for the friends she would have to face, not for the horrors of being a stranger in her own home, not for this, not for anything.
And most definitely not for meeting her children.
"Hey," Sakura said, waiting for the other woman's eyes to jump up and meet hers before she continued. "Don't worry about it. Whatever it is, whatever you're afraid of, just forget about it. We're here for you now, Temari, and we aren't going anywhere. Just go home. That's all you have to do." Temari nodded her head and exhaled the breath she hadn't been aware of holding.
"Right. I'll do that." Sakura nodded and smiled at her, standing up and leaving the room to allow them a moment of privacy before they went to brave the storm. Shikamaru stood away from her, leaning against the wall next to the door as he waited for her.
It was strange, she mused, that even after all the years apart he could still tell exactly what she needed. She didn't want platitudes or a discussion over why her feelings were completely normal; she just wanted to sit there for a few moments while she talked herself into it. Because she could get up, she could walk out that door and look around at the home she had been forced from so many years ago, she could look at the people she had once known and hold her head up high. She could look at her children and not break apart as the truth of the years that had passed attempted to squeeze her heart from her chest.
Or so she hoped.
"Okay," She said quietly, but even when quiet her voice held a thread of determined strength that she had believed long ago lost. "I'm ready." Shikamaru nodded and held out a hand, helping her to stand up and then walking beside her, emitting a protective "Fuck off" aura as they walked through the halls.
She knew people stared, she could feel their dagger like gazes on the back of her neck, but she kept her chin up, ignoring them as she stuck to her decision to walk back home instead of being carried over the rooftops like an child. She relied on the strength that Shikamaru silently sent her through his gentle hold that he had on her upper arm, guiding her on the path that she had never thought she would take again.
The horrendous house on third street was still there, still absurdly pink after all the years that she had been gone, though now the apparently color blind owner had painted the roof and windows a lime green. They had chopped down the large cherry tree that she had always found so beautiful next to the park so that now only a stump remained. The big dog that had lived down the street from their house and had always terrified Asuma was now apparently gone, replaced by a chihuahua that she already wanted to kill. There was so much that had changed but oh so much that had stayed the same.
Temari turned to the little duplex she and Shikamaru had begun renting so many years ago, remembering the first time they had stepped into it, the first time they had called it home. That ridiculous potted plant that she had foolishly hoped to maintain but then had thrown out when the leaves had gotten annoying and it had started dying because she had kept on forgetting to water it. The first time they had brought each of the kids home. She remembered all of it, and it made her knees weak.
"When did you plant flowers?" She asked, her voice suspiciously hoarse as she took in the flower garden that wrapped around the building somewhat.
"The neighbor, Maria, likes to garden. And since I figured that it was wasted space I just let her use it." Temari nodded, already figuring that it would have had to have been something like that since Shikamaru was probably still just as lazy as the day she had left. The thought put a small smile to her lips as she stepped up to the small concrete porch, waiting for Shikamaru to unlock the door so that she could open it and step inside.
The little entry nook was cluttered with discarded shoes and jackets hanging off of pegs. She saw a small and sloppy crayon drawing down near the bottom of the corner next to the door and smiled, remembering the day that Kyoko had proudly presented her with that masterpiece. She slipped out of her shoes and silently made her way through the hall, her fingers trailing lightly over the wall as she wandered through like a ghost, looking for anything and everything that would be familiar and could put her at ease.
"Where are the kids?" She asked, wanting so desperately to see them but also needing to run away to try and find her strength before that confrontation could even be imaginable.
"They're down at Ino and Choji's. They've spent the past couple nights there while I was with you." She nodded and stepped into the living-room, tears prickling her eyes as she looked it over and saw exactly how much everything had changed.
She remembered the clutter of toys that she would have to clean up or step over, the organized chaos and controlled disorganization. She remembered the crayons that had been constantly strewn across the room that she had always stepped on and the stuffed animals that had always found their way in between the couch cushions to later dig into her hip.
But none of that was there anymore.
The floor was clean but for a pair of shoes that had been discarded on the rug. Papers and text-books -remains of homework- littered the coffee table instead of the coloring pages and small snacks that had been there when she had left. A stray kunai was resting idly on the side table and Temari thought back to how when she had been there last they had had to hide all of their weapons from the sticky fingers of their children. God, how ten years changed things.
She turned her head and saw the shelves of framed photos, her steps guiding her there before it even fully registered to her how seeing such things could affect her. Before it registered how such things had the potential to cripple her.
There were the familiar pictures of Kyoko and Asuma as babies, ones she traced her finger tip over to make sure she didn't forget even a single detail ever again. But after those Temari saw the unfamiliar ones, the ones that had been taken after she had gone. There were only a handful from those first few years, but they were such precious memories that she had missed out on.
Smiling birthdays with tidy little cakes, their eyes wide in that still moment as they basked in the wonder of their special day. A Christmas photo of the kids -so tiny but so much bigger that she remembered- and their grandparents and Shikamaru sitting in front of a brightly decorated tree and piles of presents wrapped in sparkling paper and ribbons. Kyoko and Asuma's first day of school, Kyoko's graduation, her forehead protector still shiny and new. Lazy days, fun days, they were all there. All unknown to her, but she wanted them so much that she ached.
A shaking hand picked up one of the frames, her pain filled eyes flicking over the photo as she looked at them, looked at her babies that had grown up without her, probably forgetting her after all of their years apart.
Kyoko had gotten so big, the awkward angles that had been so achingly apparent even when she had been little smoothing out, she could see how gangly she had been growing up in the photos, but in this latest one she looked more feminine, though she still hadn't grown into all of her body. Her hair hung loose around her face, softening the sharp cheekbones and framing her dark eyes.
Asuma looked like she had always imagined- wide green eyes dominating his round face, so tiny next to his tall sister. Blonde hair was pulled back into a tiny stub of a ponytail, two pieces framing his face. He hid his thin body in baggy clothes, slouching slightly as he stared at the camera unsmiling, apparently having the same attitude as his father though he looked much sweeter on his delicate and wide-eyed face. He looked like a taller version of the toddler she remembered so dearly.
Good God they were teenagers now- Kyoko was sixteen, Asuma just months away from thirteen. All of those years, gone.
All of those memories and smiles she had missed suddenly piled onto her shoulders, weighing her down and threatening to make her crumble. But she withstood the pressure and the pain, promising herself that she wouldn't break. Not yet. Not until she had actually seen their faces in person with her own two eyes.
She closed her eyes tightly and held the photo to her chest, her lips trembling as she mouthed their names. "They've gotten so big." She whispered, feeling the prickle on the back of her neck that meant he was watching her.
"Asuma's about to graduate from the academy- Top of his class. He would have been like me in school if he hadn't been trying to outdo Kyoko. They're both amazing with the shadow techniques, and Kyoko made chunin on her first try. They're amazing kids." She squeezed her eyes closed even tighter and held on to the photo even more desperately.
She knew. She knew they were amazing. She could see it in the photos, feel it in her heart. Her's and Shikamaru's children obviously wouldn't be any less than absolutely incredible. But it killed her to know that she hadn't been able to see all of it first hand, that she hadn't been able to be there and be a part of it all.
Taking a shuddering breath she pulled the photo back and gently touched each of their faces, pausing when she got to one that she didn't recognize.
The woman was lovely in a pleasantly warm way. Soft brown hair fluffed around her shoulders, wide and warm brown eyes smiling back at the camera happily, freckles dusting her cheeks and shaving away years from her face. She had the tiniest of creases at the corners of her mouth and eyes- happy lines that told of a laughter filled and joyous life. She had her arm around Kyoko's thin shoulders, her opposite hand on Asuma's shoulder as she leaned in towards Shikamaru. Looking up, Temari saw her in dozens of other pictures, all of them always smiling and always happy. Together.
They were a family.
"Who..." She cleared the tightness out of her throat, "Who is this?" Shikamaru didn't have to ask who, he didn't have to pretend as if he didn't know what she was talking about or that he didn't care and she didn't matter.
He wasn't going to lie to her.
"Maria, the neighbor." Temari let out a short and slightly bitter laugh.
"The one with the flowers." She whispered, touching her face on the photograph too.
"Yes. She takes care of us: watches over the children, cooks meals, helps with the cleaning." That was understandable. That was acceptable. But the way she gravitated towards Shikamaru in each of the photos, the way she subconsciously leaned into him and the way he leaned back, that all hinted at a story with a deeper plot.
"Have you slept with her?" It actually physically pained her to voice that thought, each word sending barbed-wire arrows deep into her tender heart.
"Yes." She supposed that she should have been grateful that he hadn't bothered with false platitudes, that he had looked right at her and spoke the truth. And it had been ten years, it made sense that he would have found somebody else in such a long amount of time, it made sense that he had attempted to move on. Her reasonable side understood this.
But dammit, it hurt too much for her to care.
"Temari," He started, stepping forward and reaching out to grab hold of her. She slapped his hand away, stepping back as she averted her eyes from him. "No!" She said harshly, flinching back from his touch. "Just... don't touch me." She needed time. She needed space. She needed to breathe.
She needed...
"Dad?" Everything froze. Time, perception, Shikamaru and her. Everything just stopped at the sound of that voice, husky but still with those hints of a child.
"Dad, what's going on? Who's..." Shikamaru moved, shifting out of the way so that Temari could see her. So that she could see Temari.
She was standing in the doorway, her dark eyes observing every detail in the room and filing it away for later. Smooth black hair fell straight down to brush her shoulder blades, sharp features still holding a smidgen of childhood and long legs and arms dominated on the girl. She was tall, at least five foot ten, and pretty in a fiercely exotic sort of way.
"Kyoko." Temari breathed, her hands clutching the photo desperately as she tried to absorb every single thing about to girl in the little time she had. God, she was beautiful. It was stunning to see such a perfect mixture of her and Shikamaru in one vessel. One single, perfect, vessel.
Kyoko stared, her lips parting on a gasp as she stared at the woman across the room. Her wheat blonde hair tangled around her face and fell down to her mid-back, emerald green eyes made wide and vulnerable by the shock stared at her. She was absurdly thin and pale, and she looked so fragile that it seemed that a breath of air would knock her down. Kyoko hadn't seen her in ten years except for in pictures, but even through the dramatic differences she could see the woman that had given her life, the woman who had soothed her as a child as she had sung off key after the nightmares had frightened her.
Even through the frail bones and broken eyes, she could see her mother.
"Sissy, why'd you run off like that? It isn't like it's all that important to grab the..." Asuma strode around the corner, glancing over to see what his sister was staring so obviously at and he ended up staring himself, the only thought racing through his head was that this couldn't possibly be real. There was just no way.
"Geeze, you two. What did you think I meant when I said, 'Hey, I need to stop by the tea shop to grab a package Anzu ordered'? It wasn't some new way of saying, 'hey, why don't you run off to the house your father has banned you from getting in for the next week or so and hope that he won't find out.' I mean, do you two not know how to listen or something because-" Ino stopped her ranting as she stepped behind the children and notice the extra person as well.
Ino had changed over the years as well, though it wasn't by so much that she was unrecognizable. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into her usual ponytail, her wide blue eyes stunned. There were the tiniest of creases at the corners of her eyes, looking younger than her actual age since she locked in a fierce battle with aging where her weapons were tubes of creams and bottles with promises.
"Temari." She gasped, the first person to break the growing silence. Temari blinked at her before lifting the corner of her mouth in a weak smile, worrying endlessly over the silence that her children continued on with. Did they not want to see her? Did they not recognize her? Did they not know how to call her since it appeared that precious little Maria was their mother now?
"Hey, Ino." Ino gasped again, as if not actually expecting her to answer, and dashed forward, wrapping Temari in a tight hug that threatened to crack her in two, ignoring the shocked and almost desperate look the woman gave at the sudden and unexpected action.
"Oh, oh my God, I can't believe that you're actually back. What happened? Where were you? How did they find you?" She pulled back before Temari could attempt to avoid answering, holding up on of her hands to stop Temari from speaking as the other wiped her tears. "No, you don't want to talk about it. I understand. But let me just look at you... I mean, you're so skinny! We need to get you over to my house to get some food into you. And your hair! God, and you've always hated it long too. I'll just have to cut that for you. Some clothes too and-" She stopped, seeing the frightened look in the other woman's eyes, as if she were a doe caught in the headlights. She smiled softly and took a breath, taking a mental step back.
"But we should probably take baby-steps." She said, nodding at the relieved look in the other woman's eyes. "So, how about we go upstairs and I cut your hair first, give these three a little time to talk." She suggested gently, holding her hand out. Temari looked across the room to her wide eyed children and then away, ashamed of what they must have seen, especially if they were comparing her to that Maria woman. Looking down she settled her hand softly into Ino's, silently nodding her head and allowing her to lead her out of the room and up the stairs.
Kyoko watched as the two women walked up the stairs. Watched as her mother walked up the stairs. Her mother. As soon as she heard the door click closed from upstairs she whirled around and stalked over to her father.
"What is this?" She hissed, making sure to not be so loud that the women upstairs could hear her. "What does this mean?"
"It means," Shikamaru said slowly, watching Kyoko pace around like one would watch a caged wild animal. "That your mother is back."
"Back from where? And why didn't you tell us? I mean, it's obvious that you've known about this for a little while since you kicked us out of the house for her." She gasped as a sudden moment of clarity washed over her. "Is that why you ran out the other day? In front of Maria? Oh Dad, how could you?" Shikamaru's eyes went hard, the black turning into flinty steel.
"It is true that I care for Maria but Temari -your mother- is my wife whom I love. Of course I chose to go to her, regardless of who I was with at the moment. And anyway, little girl, none of this is any of your business. Especially where she was since that is in no way my story to tell." Kyoko started to shake, her fists clenched at her sides as she stared at Shikamaru with the same expression he had.
"What... What happened to her?" Came the hushed voice from the doorway. Kyoko turned and glared at him as if he were a traitor, but he ignored the heat of her glare and instead focused his wide and understanding eyes on his father. "Her eyes were just... Broken. What did they do to her to get her like that?" Because if there was one thing he remembered about his mother it was her unbending strength.
Shikamaru calmed down, gazing up as if he could see her through the floor that separated them, his eyes painfully sad. "I don't know all of it. I probably never will because that is her story to tell and I don't know if she'll ever even want to think about it again."
Asuma nodded and gazed up like his father was doing. "Will she be okay?"
"I hope so. All we can do is give her time and space enough to heal and then hope for the best." Asuma nodded and Kyoko glared at the two of them, gritting her teeth as she stomped past them and then out the back door.
Temari sat in silence as Ino cut her hair off, going for the same length she had always kept it at all those years ago. Ino didn't try and engage her into any conversation now that she had gotten off of her giddily shocked and happy high, sensing that the other woman needed some quiet and not-so-distant distance.
"Ino?" Temari asked quietly as she watched clumps of hair drift down to the floor.
"Hmm?"
"This Maria person... Have you met her?"
"Yes."
"What is she like?" Ino hesitated for the barest moment, tightening her lips as she figured that if Shikamaru had told Temari of the other woman, she could tell Temari about her.
"She's kind and energetic, warm and very chipper. She acts like a child sometimes but she also has this maturity that she hides from people, more often than not. Kyoko and Asuma love her," Temari flinched but Ino continued on as if she hadn't noticed. "They really do. She's been with them for years, and I think Shikamaru would have definitely had a harder time with them if she hadn't been there for all of them."
"And Shikamaru? How does he feel?" She asked hoarsely, the answer so blindingly apparent that it almost pained her to keep her eyes open.
"You need to ask him that." Ino murmured, stepping back and handing Temari a hand mirror that she almost seemed to magically pull from behind her back. "Here, look, we got some of the old Temari back."
Temari looked at the mirror like a frightened child, unsure of what she wanted to do. She hadn't looked in a mirror in ten years, even after her imprisonment had been stopped. What if she couldn't see any of 'Temari' in the reflection? What if they had done something horrible to her face during one of the experiments? What if she didn't even recognize herself because she had changed so much or was horribly disfigured?
She straightened her shoulders determinedly, lifting her chin as she told herself that this would be a test. If she could look in that mirror and accept the stranger she would see in it, then she could go out and say something to her children. She would look. She would be victorious.
Raising a trembling hand, she looked into her reflection and found herself staring.
Blond hair tumbled messily around her face, reminding her about why she had always pulled it up. Green eyes, while they were shadowed, were so achingly familiar that she had to force herself to look away. Her skin was pulled tight across her face, but she knew that if she ate some actual food that she would fill out quick enough and then she'd be able to see her again. Her face held the strain from years of terror and pain so that the creases at the corners of her eyes weren't from laughter, but her skin was surprisingly smooth.
Temari stared at her reflection, finding herself fascinated by the wonder that filled her at the knowledge that they hadn't truly turned her into an animal or a monster, so happy that she could actually see herself and not a stranger that the devils had created.
"Is it okay?" Ino questioned, worrying her lip as the other woman continued to just stare silently at herself.
Temari knew that she was asking about the hair but she couldn't help but answer for everything. "Yes. It will be."
After Ino had gone, promising to come back in a couple of days after she had rested to see how she was doing, Temari stood up and wandered the room. Her's and Shikamaru's room.
He hadn't changed much, that lazy bastard, so it was still pretty much as she had remembered it. The same dark walls and warm wood floor, the same king sized bed that they had spent hours arguing about when they had first went to buy it. The curtains were even the same, evident from the small stain at the corner that was unnoticeable unless you knew it was there.
But her collection of fans that had hung on the wall was gone, the extra blanket that she had kept thrown over the foot-board for when she got cold during the night gone as well. Opening the little walk in closet she saw that her half was empty but for her favorite black and red flannel robe. Taking it off of its hanger Temari could smell the years that lay on it, and thankfully no foreign female perfume.
She tugged off the restricting clothes the hospital had gotten for her and threw them to the ground, slipping the soft robe on, nearly weeping at how familiar and comforting it was. Standing in the middle of the room Temari rubbed the material between her fingers, her lips curving into a small smile as she remembered back to her old life. And when Shikamaru walked in after sending the kids back to Ino's for the night that was how he found her, a smile on her face wrapped in the robe he had gotten her so many many years ago.
For just a moment it was like he had gone back in time to before she had been taken from him. It would have been a night like any other night as the kids slept over in their room, him coming home from another greatly hated late night at work. She would have waited up for them, though she would have had some handy excuse for being up so late ready. He would have walked over to her to wrap his arms around her from behind, holding onto her as they said their hellos, his face buried into the familiar curve where her shoulder met her neck. He had always loved that spot.
"Why did you keep this?" She asked quietly, slipping her hands into the pockets and turning so that she could look at him directly. He blinked as he was jerked out of his musings, shrugging his shoulders as he went over to sit on his side of the bed, watching her as he did so.
"I kept all of it, but I kept that one out because..." He couldn't say it was because it smelled like her or that it reminded him of her the most, that whenever he had missed her the most he had just had to open that closet door to find that little piece of her. What if she thought that it was pathetic or weird? "Just because."
She nodded and silently sat down on her side of bed, her stiff back turned to him as she stared almost hopelessly at the wall. Shikamaru's shoulders slumped slightly and he stood up, going around the bed and to the door.
"I'll sleep down on the couch, you can stay up here." He looked back and saw her, saw how fragile she looked. He wanted to run back and hold her as closely and tightly as possible, sleeping with her in his arms as he finally and truly confirmed that she was back with him where she belonged. But she wasn't ready, not yet. He smiled slightly at her and nodded to her, closing the door softly behind him as he went.
"Sweet dreams." He wished her as he left.
Temari gasped as she shot straight up out of the viciously horrifying nightmare into bed, clutching the soft covers desperately as she tried to contain her screams of terror. She scrambled to turn the knob on the lamp beside her, her breathing labored and erratic as she fought to bring light into the room and into her dreams.
Now that she had been outside, now that she had come back and had seen how beautifully bright everything was, she never wanted to go back to the darkness, especially the terror and whisper filled darkness that surrounded her in her dreams.
She trembled as the light filled the room, resting her forehead against her up-drawn knees as she slowly rocked back and forth, trying to calm her jitters.
She thought about going downstairs and asking Shikamaru to come up, to be beside her and protect her from the night terrors but she dismissed the thoughts soon after they had appeared.
She needed to become strong again, she needed to get so that she wouldn't be a burden to anyone and could be independent. She needed to get past the dreams and focus on the future she couldn't quite clearly see, though she knew a few things.
One- She wanted to be with her husband.
Two- She wanted to be back with her children.
Three- She'd figure out just who this Maria woman was and what she wanted with her family.
Four- She'd manage to find the happiness she had lost.
Settling back under the covers she stared at the wall until the sun rose, determined to find a way to defeat her demons all on her own.
Days later after everyone had returned home, Temari was eating her meal up in her room, by herself, as usual. She had tried to eat downstairs with everyone else but they had sat in such a thick awkwardness that Temari's teeth hurt just thinking about it. So finally, fed up with and hurting from how she was affecting her own family, Temari had told the three that she would simply start eating her food up in her room to save them all the effort of trying.
It was lonely, but she was fine. After all, she had been through worse in the past years. Much worse.
She was flipping through one of the books she had found lying around the house when there was a light knock on the door, Asuma poking his head in the room before she could decide whether or not she wanted the burden of trying to entertain company just yet.
"Can I come in?" He asked quietly, Temari immediately setting aside the book and nodding, motioning for him to come in.
"Of course, what is it?" He silently came over and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, his forehead scrunching up as he thought something over. It smoothed out as he smiled, his wide and kind green eyes looking at her, soothing her soul.
"You smell the same." He murmured.
Temari leaned back a bit, studying his face to make sure that she had heard him correctly. "What?"
He blushed as if just realizing what he had said and shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the sheets as if they are suddenly fascinating. "How you... smell. It's one of the few things I actually remember about you and it's the same as I remember."
"Ah..." Temari blinked, looking down at herself as if she could see the smell if she looked hard enough. "It's just soap." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her, managing to make all of her defenses simply melt. Oh, she had missed that smile.
"Tell me about yourself." Temari suddenly demanded, leaning back against the head-board as she watched him, waiting. "Tell me everything. Silly stories, happy memories. Facts, statistics, moods. Everything and anything." He nodded and then scooted back so that they were both leaning against the head-board.
"Well, my best friend is Ringo and my favorite color is maroon. I like playing shoji and watching the clouds," Temari stopped herself from rolling her eyes. God, he had been turned into a mini Shikamaru. "I'm going to graduate top of my class, and I'm good with the shadow manipulations -though not as good as Kyoko, but that's only because she's older. I..." Temari smiled slightly and just watched him talk, listening to the soothing rise and fall of his voice as he spoke about everything that came to his mind.
He was beautiful. The way his face -though it usually stayed stoic like his father's usually did- shifted slightly with every change of emotion. The way there was a slight shift in his eyes when he talked about Ringo and told stories about Ringo. The way he smiled -just the tiniest curve of his lips- when he told a story he found funny. As she watched him she saw the pieces of him that she remembered, the little bits of that two year old boy that she had loved so deeply.
She wanted to hear him laugh, wanted to feel that depth of happiness that came from that sweet sound again. She wondered if his eyes still scrunched up closed when he did, if it was still the same deep belly laughs that just rolled uncontrollably out of him as his face lit up from his mirth.
"Are you going to leave again?" Temari blinked and then quickly shook her head. "No, no I won't. I can't even think about leaving any of you again." Never. Never again would she be taken away from her babies. He nodded and slowly, hesitantly, he slipped his arms around her waist and leaned his head against her shoulder. She froze for the barest moment before winding her own arms around him, clinging as she breathed past the tears.
He no longer smelled of powder and no-tear shampoo. She could smell the tiniest hint of his deodorant and... good God, her baby was wearing cologne. Those years she had missed suddenly slapped her in the face and made her tighten her hold.
"You're really skinny." He muttered, burying his face into her throat. His hair tickled her nose and his breath was hot and moist against her skin, but she ignored those tiny discomforts and held onto him, laughing weakly.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll get to work on that." She murmured, closing her eyes as she let his warmth seep into her and soothe her chilled soul.
A throat was impolitely cleared and they looked up to see Kyoko standing in the doorway, hip cocked and eyes hard. "Asuma, if you want to practice with me you better hurry up. I don't have all day." Asuma nodded and reluctantly slipped out of Temari's hold, scooting off of the bed and walking past his sister and out the door. Said sister watched the woman that sat on the bed with stern eyes, turning on her heel and leaving without a backwards glance.
It was like those eyes had just skewered her heart and put it out to roast over a pit. Taking a trembling breath Temari wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes as she tried to maintain her control. It would take more than sweet words to win her daughter back, she had known that the first time she had seen her, but God, it hurt to look into those eyes.
But she had gotten her son back and she could get Kyoko back too. It would just take a little time.
She was really getting tired of the nightmares.
The psychologist she had been seeing had tried to get her to talk about it, and she had, but talking just hadn't helped. The woman had suggested that she try talking to Shikamaru but it was... hard. If she let him into that part of her, the darkest and most twistedly deformed part of her, would he be able to accept her? He did, after all, have that other woman waiting for him. What if he decided that she was the better bet?
She roughly rubbed her hands over her face as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet pressing into the cool wood of the floor.
She hated that she was still trapped by the fear that she should have been free from as soon as they had taken her out of that cell. What was there to be afraid of here? She wouldn't ever go back, she knew that, so why did she have to have nightmares?
Grabbing her pillow off of the bed she stepped quietly out of the room and walked down the stairs, her footsteps silent on the wood as she made her way into the living room to find her husband.
He was sitting on the couch, blankets shoved down on the ground and the pillow forgotten as he leaned over some of the paperwork he had had sent to the house so that he could stay at home in case Temari needed him. She knew that he knew she was there, but he was waiting for her to make the first move, waiting for her to say something that would give a hint as to how the conversation would go.
"How many times did you sleep with her?" She whispered as she stared at his back. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, and Temari knew that she probably should have started with something else. But this was what she wanted to know, what she needed to know. Even if asking made her feel like a petty and jealous child.
"Five times." She blinked. That was a lot less than she had thought. According to the pictures and the little bit she had been able to get from Asuma the woman had been around for years, and the pictures all showed that she had always felt something towards him.
"I won't say I'm sorry that it happened because that would be insulting for everyone involved and would belittle herfeelings and mine. But it hurts you, and I am sorry for that." Temari sighed and stared down at the pillow, picking at a loose thread as she became so utterly and undeniably tired.
"No. It isn't that it hurts me, but that I... I'm..." She muttered the last little bit under her breath and Shikamaru turned to her, watching her as she fidgeted. "You're what?"
"Jealous." She said as quietly as she could.
"What was that again?" He asked, and she damn well knew that he had heard her.
"Jealous, okay? I'm jealous. And don't go around expecting to hear that again." Shikamaru's lip twitched up in a smirk. God, he had missed her, missed what they had had together.
"It's just that... all those years I missed, all those pictures that I'll never get to be in, she's in all of them. She's been here to see the kids grow up, to help Kyoko and Asuma when they needed it. She was here for you too, and it kills me to know that she got all of that and I didn't." She looked up at him, her eyes so achingly sad. "But I don't hate you or want you to apologize for having her. I understand that you tried to move on and why. It was ten years after all, it's not like I expected you to take a vow of chastity and never look at another woman."
"That's the thing," He said quietly, meeting her heartbroken eyes with his own. "I never did."
"What does that mean?"
"That I could never look at anyone else. It was always only you." She sniffled a little bit and clutched the pillow tighter, looking away from him and to the wall.
"That's kind of pitiful."
"Yeah, I know."
Her eyes flicked back over to him and she bit her lip, hesitating over what she was about to do next. She slowly held out one of her hands to him, the other arm continuing to hold the security of the pillow close.
"Will you come up and sleep with me?" She asked, offering him the opening he had been waiting for.
He knew that she only meant sleep and that she wasn't ready for sex yet, but he didn't want that. He would wait for years if he had to if it meant he would be able to get his wife back.
He stood up, turned off the light, and walked to her, taking her hand in his as they walked up the stairs side by side. They closed the bedroom door behind them quietly as they went to their respective sides of the bed, both of them easily hiding how much this meant to them.
Settling back into the pillows Shikamaru was reaching out to turn off the light when she grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Wait, can we leave it on?" He looked at her to find her staring down at the bed sheets, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I have nightmares." She quietly admitted, and Shikamaru felt his heart break for her, though it never showed on his face.
Cursing the bastards who had hurt her he settled back under the covers, leaving the light shining. Temari was about to settle back as well, so eager to sleep beside him again after so long apart, but a sudden and terrible thought made its way through her mind and gave her pause. And, as if he had the ability to see her thoughts, Shikamaru answered her unasked worry.
"It was never in here, Temari. I would never do anything like that in our room or in our bed." Our room. It was amazing how easily such simple words could soothe her. Our room. Our bed.
She slipped back under the covers, holding her breath to see what would happen. Neither of them had ever really been cuddlers, though they did usually end up against each other during the night. But Temari wanted to touch him, to have some contact with him so that she could be soothed. But was she ready for that? She still stiffened up every time Asuma went for a hug even though she loved each and every embrace.
Understanding perfectly and accepting it all, Shikamaru merely turned on his side facing her and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and setting their joined hands on the space between them.
"Go to sleep." He muttered, easing into the comfort of the bed -that sofa was damned uncomfortable- and his wife.
And with a smile on her face she complied, sure that her nightmares wouldn't be back that night.
Shikamaru had started going back into work, only leaving when Temari had thrown a bowl of grapes at his face and had threatened to gut him if he coddled her any more, saying that now that she was back to her normal self -not all the way, obviously, since she normally would never have left it at a threat and a flimsy assault- he could leave her alone in the house.
And Temari found herself happy again, settling back into the warmth of having her family back. Well, her family but for Kyoko, and she was sure that whatever all of that was would be resolved soon. They just needed time.
Pushing those thoughts out of her head Temari instead focused on happier thoughts, like the fact that she was finally over the ninety-five pound mark on the scale. Looking down she could no longer see her ribs protruding or her hip bones, though she was nowhere near finished gaining weight. Of course, the weight she would be gaining from there on out would be muscle weight since she was going to start training again, even if it meant starting from scratch. She absolutely loathed being weak.
Pulling her hair back into a high pony-tail Temari stepped out of the bathroom, going over to the closet. She had been wearing the clothes Ino had gotten for her and then Shikamaru's shirts to sleep in, but she was kind of tired of wearing the comfortable and stretchy drawstring clothes that were meant to be worn until she finished gaining weight. She remembered Shikamaru saying that he had put all of her old clothes in a box at the back of the closet, so she decided to go through them and put on some of her own clothes.
Because she missed her clothes.
The first box she opened smelled stale from the years of not being opened, so she knew that she'd have to wash all of them. But she didn't mind it because as soon as she saw what was in it she was simply filled with joy. There was her favorite t-shirt and then her favorite old pair of jeans. Her kimonos, her shorts, tank tops and then her mission wear. It was all there, neatly folded with care.
Temari wondered, briefly, how much this must have hurt Shikamaru to just try and pack her away like this.
In another box she found her pajama sets, nightgowns and underwear, though she didn't mess with this box all that much but for the underwear since she was happy with just wearing Shikamaru's shirts to sleep. It was comforting.
The third box was what held her attention the most, though. Her fan collection, the one little whimsical thing she had kept at since her child hood, all neatly and carefully packed away. She picked the topmost one up, opening it with a flick of her wrist and breathing out a happy and relieved sigh. She had forgotten how much she had missed her fan.
"What are you doing?" Temari's head snapped up and her smile slipped off of her face as she looked up at Kyoko. The girl was standing in the doorway, eyebrows brought together by confusion as she took in the boxes and clothes scattered about the floor to her father's room.
"Ah, going through the boxes of all of my things." Kyoko nodded and then turned around, about to leave without another word. "Um!" Temari started, making the girl pause. "Do you want to help?" Temari winced at the suggestion, wishing she could take it back, not ready to hear the girl's rejection actually put into words. But all she wanted was to spend a little time with her, to get to know the young lady her little girl had become.
"Sure." She said, turning back and sitting on the other side of the box that her shocked mother had open, staring at her impatiently. "Well, what's in this one?" Temari blinked, brought back to the real world with a jarring thud by the girl's voice.
"My fans." Temari said as she gently picked another one up, her voice reverent.
"I thought you fought with a big one." She said, picking up one of the fragile things as she eyed it doubtfully.
"I did. But I collected fans of all types since I was little. Some of these are for looks and some are for combat, and- Wait! No, you open it like this," She said, demonstrating. "You can't be rough with these because they're very delicate."
"They're kind of worthless if you can't use them then, huh?" Kyoko said, setting the fan she had been holding back in the box. Temari shook her head, a wistful smile on her face.
"That's not what you said when you were little. In fact this one was your favorite." She said, picking up a red silk fan with flowers painted on the delicate cloth and the wood painted black, a black tassel dangling down with a large red glass bead decorating it just before the knot.
"You would always come in here and try to get it off of the wall, climbing up shelves or other things like that because you thought it was just so pretty. I didn't know if you were going to tear up my collection or your head." She laughed softly as she remembered, holding the fan in her hands as if it were a priceless treasure. "Eventually we had to start locking the door to out room so you wouldn't get hurt or break anything."
She smiled gently down at the fan and then up into the dark eyes of her daughter. And then she held out the treasure, a peace offering. "Here. You can have it."
"I-I can't I-" Temari shook her head at the girl's protest, placing the fan into the girl's hand and folding her fingers around it, her touch just as soft as her smile.
"I had actually planned on giving it to you when you graduated from the academy, but I guess that didn't really work out," Her smile turned unbearably sad and the shadows in her eyes shifted as she looked away from Kyoko and into the past she had missed. "Did it?"
Shaking her head at the depression that threatened to fill her, Temari turned back to the box and picked up another one of the fans, calming down as the silk, paper, ivory and wood soothed her.
"You left." Kyoko whispered, staring down at the closed fan in her hand.
"What was that?" Temari asked, looking up at her.
"You left!" She shouted, making the other woman jerk back from her fury. "You just left me and didn't even look back! How could you do something like that? You're my mother! You're not supposed to just leave your children like that! And... And then you just come back here and expect us to act like nothing happened." Tears were streaming down her face and she was wiping at them though it was useless because they just continued to fall.
"I mean, we were happy. We really were! We... Maria was going to take us to the hot springs and we were... We were happy! And now you're here and..." She hiccupped. "You're making it... different. Better. Dad is happier and Asuma is too and... I thought we were happy before but we weren't and it's all because you left and now you're back and it... it's better. But... why did you leave me?"
"Kyoko." Temari breathed, reaching out for the girl to only have her slap the hand away.
"And I can't even be mad at you! I mean, it was your job and it wasn't like you knew it was going to happen or went willingly." She sniffed loudly and tried to rub her red eyes dry.
"I didn't. I would never have gone had I know that any of that would happen. I never wanted to leave you -ever. The three of you mean the world to me and every day I died a little because I couldn't get back to you. I love you, Kyoko, I love you so much that it hurt to keep loving you. You need to believe me. Please, believe me."
Tears were slowly making their way down her face as she stared at the blurred form of her daughter. If she could have she would have went down to her knees and begged for forgiveness, prayed for it -the first prayer she would have spoken in years since she had believed god to be deaf in the hell she had lived in.
"I... I do. Believe you, that is. And I understand why you left. If I were in your shoes I would have done the same thing." She sniffled and looked down at her hands fisted around the fan. She slowly uncurled each of her fingers one by one, smoothing the wood with one of her fingers.
"Because that's what ninjas do. We go and do our jobs even though there's a chance we won't come back." She looked back up at Temari and smiled the tiniest smile, though the effect was ruined by her puffy eyes and blotchy skin.
"Promise you won't leave us again. I don't think any of us could take it if you left us again." Temari nodded.
"Of course. Never. I'll never leave you. I'll swear this a thousand times on a thousand different graves if I have to because I mean it more than I've ever meant anything ever before in my life." Kyoko nodded and then was quick to lean forward and wrap her arms around her waist, squeezing hard as she buried her face into her chest, her breath shuddering out as her entire body relaxed. It was like she remembered from when she was a child- warm and smelling of her soap, her arms wrapping around her to return the hug enveloping her in a complete sense of comfort.
She leaned back and rubbed at her nose again, staring down at the box as an embarrassed and pleased blush spread on her cheeks. "Um... can we keep on going through the fans?"
"Of course."
"And do you think that you can actually show me how to fight with the fans? You know, since I know how Dad fights I figure it might be nice to know how you fought." Temari blinked and then smiled, feeling a shaft of pride and love pierce her heart.
"I'd enjoy nothing more."
"Thanks..." She cleared her throat, "Mom."
Temari smiled tearfully and scooted closer to the box, going over memories long thought to be forgotten. She had missed being called Mom.
"She called me mom." Temari murmured later that night as she and Shikamaru were getting ready for bed.
"Who?"
"Kyoko. She called me mom." She smiled as she sat on the side of the bed, turning so that she could look down at Shikamaru since he was already lying down. "We were going through the box of my fans and she called me mom. I missed that. I missed being a mom."
"And we missed you." He murmured. They watched each other for a bit, both uncertain of the next move. Temari knew what she wanted to do, she just wasn't sure if she was ready. But looking at him and feeling the tug she had only ever hoped to feel again, Temari knew she would have to try. She just wasn't sure if she could take any more of the hesitancy between them anymore.
And so she closed her eyes, took a leap of faith, and leaned in.
It was a smooth kiss, one that was nowhere near as heated as the ones they had shared in the past. It wasn't hesitant, but it was timid, both searching for how far the other was willing to go. Finding their answers they both pressed a little harder, their heads tilting as the air around them became hotter.
They didn't hurry, they didn't rush. They savored the moment, that final blessed moment that they were together again, and with their kisses they promised to never again be forced apart.
They only broke the kiss so that they could tug their shirts off, their lips immediately coming back to each other as if drawn by a magnetic force. Their gentle touches lingered, neither wanting to hurry or break the fragile moment that was building between them.
Shikamaru rolled so that he was on top, pausing a moment to give her the choice to break free. But she was fine, she wasn't scared. She was too warm, too lightheaded, too tingly to ever be scared of anything ever again. And so she reached up and brought him back down to her, running her fingers through his hair like she had been wanting to do again for so unbearably long.
His kisses trailed down her throat and to her chest, coming back up to kiss her on the lips every few minutes as if he couldn't bear to forget the taste of her. He stayed at her breasts for achingly long moments as she panted, trying to remember how to breathe through the feelings that were rushing through her body and threatening to overwhelm her.
He came back up to kiss her again, catching her breathy gasps in his own mouth before he went on his downward path once more, this time passing her breasts and continuing downward until he was met with the very core of her heat. Parting her legs and tugging her underwear down, he pressed his mouth to her and made the stars that filled her vision explode.
Temari's back arched as one of her hands was tossed up above her head, the other fisting in the sheets beneath her as colorful and wonderful spots filled her eyes. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel every blessed thing he was doing to her. And she certainly wasn't going to fight it, especially not when once her thought processes got back up and running she would only end up worrying about all of the scars that littered her body.
She had had scars when their relationship had first started -obviously, since she was a ninja that had seen combat and had been wounded- and neither had ever worried about them. They came with the job and they were wounds that you could feel pride in because you knew that you had gotten them protecting your village. But these scars, these scars were ugly.
They practically dripped with the poison from her years of imprisonment and they were so viciously and glaringly hideous and evil that Temari still hadn't been able to look at all of her reflection in the mirror yet. What would Shikamaru think and say, especially since he could clearly remember her as she had been?
Why did she have to have the light on? Why did she have to be such a goddamn coward?
As if he heard her thoughts and felt her pain Shikamaru started back up, pausing at each and every scar on her body to trail kisses along the angry lines, almost reverent in the way he soothingly traced them, continuing up the trail until he was once more at her lips, kissing her deeply and reassuringly as she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.
When he entered her she couldn't hold back her gasping cry, arching up to meet him as she tried to remind herself that there were children in the house that could hear them -children old enough to understand what the noises meant.
Their bodies moved together as if there had never been a moment of separation, both of them two halves of a whole that was finally back together and whole again. The years flew easily away, every scar and blemish and wound -both visible and not- fading in the growing heat.
And when they exploded together she couldn't help the handful of tears that rolled out of her eyes at how wonderfully and perfectly whole she finally felt after so many years of being broken. He brushed the tears off of her face as he told her things she couldn't hear past the emotions that were racing furiously though her body and creating a roaring in her ears.
"I love you." She choked out, burying her face into his throat. "I love you." She repeated, needing to say it as many times as possible, needing to let him know in case something dared to break them apart again. Needing him to understand.
"And I love you." He told her, rolling over so they were on their sides, holding her until they both finally succumbed to sleep, even though they still wanted a few moments more of being in each other's arms.
She had her son back. She had her daughter back. She had her husband, their marriage and their sex life, back. She had her family and everything was as it was supposed to be. But there was one niggling detail, one loose end that Temari just didn't know what to do with.
Maria.
And so that was how she found herself on the neighboring porch holding her breath as she knocked on the door, hoping that she wasn't doing something incredibly stupid.
The woman that answered was just like in the pictures, though as soon as she saw Temari her face seemed to age a good five years. And they weren't very kind years.
"Hello." Temari greeted her, unsure of what to do now that she was here and the door had been answered. The woman smiled weakly and nodded at her.
"Hello... won't you come in?" Temari nodded and stepped by her, able to breathe now that she was inside. The house wasn't really anything special, just a reflection of theirs, but it was decorated warmly and with a lot of thought whereas her house was filled with a lot of 'who cares?' and 'oh, I guess that looks okays'.
"Ah," Temari started, turning around with a clear thought in mind until she actually faced the woman, finding herself suddenly tongue tied by eyes that clearly seemed to understand the whole situation.
"I just want to say that I won't interfere with your marriage or try to do anything to the children or Shikamaru that would come across as me trying to get them to choose me over you. I'm not that kind of person. But I do want to say that I will remain in Kyoko and Asuma's lives. I love them too much and I believe that I mean too much to them to even think about tearing myself away from them." She nodded as if satisfied by her little report. "There. That's all, so you can start on me about being a home wrecker and trying to take your man away now."
"Thank you." Maria blinked, her body visibly deflating in her confusion.
"What was that?"
"Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my family, of loving them when I wasn't here to do so. Thank you for meaning so much to them after I had left them with so little. Thank you."
"Um..." Maria was looking down at the floor, trying to figure out what she should say to that. What she could say to that. There she had been, expecting a fight from a jealous and scary as hell ninja lady and instead she got this woman who had a cracked look in her eye and was humbly bowing her head. Thanking her. "I... I didn't do it to be thanked."
"No." Temari agreed quietly, looking back up at her, "You did it because you love them."
How could she even think to be mad at this woman? And it wasn't like she had ever thought she had had a chance to compete with her anyway. She had always known by the look in Shikamaru's eye and by the way that he sometimes touched her that he had gone far away, that he was out there searching for her because there was no way he could be complete without his wife.
Not her. Never her.
They had each other again and their family -their happiness- was complete. Who was she to even think of interfering, especially when the only possible outcome was far more heartbreak than she could ever stand.
"I, ah... I have photo albums of the kids from over the years. You probably haven't gotten a whole lot from all of them about what really went on with them and... Would you like me to go get them for you?" Temari wanted to reach out to the woman and soothe the broken expression on her face, wanted to tell her that it would all be fine. That everything would be fine. But who was she to promise that?
"I would, if it isn't too much trouble. Thank you." She answered, watching the other woman walk away and determining that she would never show her pity. She had done far too much for her family, meant far too much to them to ever even consider belittling her in such a way.
When Maria handed Temari the book they could see the symbolism of the moment, both of them lingering over it and promising each other unbreakable promises. That they wouldn't live to regret it. That they would never look back at the other with pity or shame. That they would never -no matter the circumstances- regret the love they felt for their three most important people.
"Thank you." Temari said again, clutching the albums to her chest as she turned and walked out of the house.
Maria could only hope that she wouldn't look back because there was no way she was going to be able to hold the tears back until the door closed.
She wanted to rant and rave, to beg God to know if this was really his plan. If he really cared for her as everyone said he did. If so, why did it have to hurt? If he truly loved her why did he have to rip her heart out of her chest and then shatter it in the palm of his hand? Why did it have to hurt so terribly, horribly, torturously?
Why was it that she was left alone with her love long forgotten?
Sliding down the wall she was leaning on she sat in a crumpled heap on the floor, burning hot tears and tortured sobs ripped from her as she mourned for the dream she could never have. And prepared to build herself up once again.
Never knowing about the tears that were shed for her on the other side of the door.
Okay, see, I'm just going to leave it here.
Why? Because this is where I feel like it has ended. Maria does move on and she will continue to be in the kids' lives, and eventually she falls in love again and is happy.
And I felt kind of bad as I was writing this because I made Temari kind of weepy when I think of her as more of a badass, but hey, after ten years of mental and physical torture I think we'd all get a little teary eyed. But never fear, she gets her badassery back.
And to Ninquelot, sorry! I refer to all of my readers with odd nicknames (sweet babies, precious darlings), but I'll make sure to call you something a little more grown up. And about calling you a he, I only did that because I figured it would be better to just stick with it instead of guessing. But hey, congrats on the kids. That's fabulous (and here's hoping you got this somewhere else than work, cause I don't want you to get in trouble)
I will be back soon, but I might just have to take a tiny break (a day or so). This chapter was actually twice as long as my longest one before now and I still need to finish the hell that is Pride and Prejudice. But hey, I have way too many ideas and too much love for you all to stay gone for long.
Kisses!