Shikamaru sighed as he leaned against the balcony railing, staring blankly at the horizon. The setting sun cast a warm orange hue across the sky, but it did little to ease the tension that coiled in his chest. Another argument had erupted that afternoon, and Temari's angry words still echoed in his mind, sharp and relentless like the wind she controlled so well.

"I can't do this anymore, Shikamaru! I'm tired of coming home to this laziness, this... this indifference!" she had yelled, her voice trembling with frustration as she threw a broken vase into the corner of their small living room.

It had been a gift from Kankuro, a token from one of his missions abroad. Shikamaru had winced as it shattered, but he hadn't said a word. He knew better than to add fuel to the fire.

Now, standing alone in the evening light, he couldn't help but wonder how it had come to this. When they had gotten married, he had loved Temari with a quiet, steady kind of love. She was strong, independent, and fierce, and though their personalities were vastly different, they had fit together in a way that made sense. At least, back then it had.

But over the last year, things had changed. Temari's temper had grown shorter, her patience thinner. Every small annoyance seemed to turn into a full-blown argument. If he came home late from work, she snapped at him for not caring about their time together. If he stayed home, she accused him of being lazy, wasting his potential. If the dishes weren't done, if the laundry wasn't folded—if anything wasn't perfect, she would rage. She'd shout, break things, and storm out, leaving him to pick up the pieces.

Today had been no different.

"Do you even care, Shikamaru?" she had demanded, her hands clenched into fists as she stood before him, her chest rising and falling with fury. "I come home after a long day, and it's like I'm invisible. You're just sitting there, staring into space like nothing matters!"

Shikamaru had rubbed the back of his neck, trying to keep his voice calm, trying to avoid another explosion. "It's not like that, Temari. I've just been... thinking."

"Thinking? That's your excuse for everything! All you do is think. Meanwhile, I'm here doing everything else, and you're too lazy to even talk to me!"

He had sighed then, the exhaustion settling in his bones. "I'm not lazy. I'm tired, Temari. We both are."

But she hadn't listened. She never listened anymore. The anger that always simmered just beneath the surface seemed to control her, and Shikamaru was left standing in the wake of her destruction, wondering how much more he could take.

It wasn't that he didn't love her. He did—or at least, he had. But the constant fighting, the yelling, the broken objects littering their home—it was wearing him down. He craved peace, the kind of peace that came with a quiet, orderly life. He longed for the days when he could come home to a clean, calm space, where the air didn't feel heavy with unspoken anger and resentment. But those days felt distant now, almost unreachable.

As he stood on the balcony, the door slid open behind him. Temari's footsteps were sharp and quick as she walked over, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Are you just going to ignore me all night?" she snapped, her eyes narrowed. "That's your solution, huh? Just avoid the problem?"

Shikamaru closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to face her. "I'm not ignoring you," he said quietly. "I just needed some space."

"Space?" she repeated, her voice rising. "That's all you ever need! Space from me, space from this marriage! Maybe I should just leave if that's what you want!"

He felt a flicker of irritation flare up, but he tried to keep it under control. "That's not what I'm saying, Temari. You're twisting my words again."

"Twisting your words? Oh, so now this is my fault?" Her voice was full of disbelief, and she threw her hands up in the air. "Everything's always my fault, isn't it?"

Shikamaru's patience was wearing thin. "I didn't say that. But can you calm down for once? We don't have to turn every conversation into a fight."

"Calm down?" Temari's eyes blazed, and she took a step closer, her jaw clenched. "I am calm, Shikamaru. You're the one who's never doing anything! You think sitting around and avoiding everything will make it better, but guess what? It doesn't!"

Shikamaru clenched his fists, feeling the weight of her accusations pressing down on him. "I'm not avoiding anything. I'm trying to keep the peace. But you—" he stopped himself, biting back the words he knew would only make things worse.

But Temari wasn't having it. "Say it," she challenged, her voice cold. "What? What was I going to say? That I'm the problem?"

He exhaled slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. "I never said you were the problem. But lately, Temari... it's like you're always looking for a reason to fight. I don't know how to talk to you anymore without it blowing up into something bigger."

"Maybe because you don't try hard enough," she snapped, her hands trembling at her sides. "You think you can just sit there and do nothing, and it'll all magically get better? That's not how this works, Shikamaru! Marriage isn't something you can just 'think' your way through!"

"I'm not trying to 'think' my way through it," Shikamaru said, his voice rising in frustration. "But every time we talk, you're angry. I come home, and there's always something wrong. You're always upset about something, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Maybe I wouldn't be so angry if you actually cared about what's going on," Temari shot back. "Maybe if you put in half the effort I do, things wouldn't be like this!"

Shikamaru felt something inside him snap, the calm exterior he had been holding onto slipping away. "I do care, Temari! But I can't do this if all we ever do is fight! I'm tired of coming home to a battlefield every day. I'm tired of feeling like nothing I do is good enough!"

Temari blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in his voice. For a moment, there was silence between them, the tension thick in the air.

"So what are you saying?" she asked, her voice quieter now, but still laced with anger. "That you don't want this anymore?"

Shikamaru stared at her, his heart heavy. "I don't know," he admitted, the words painful to say. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Temari's eyes widened, and for the first time in a long time, her anger seemed to falter. But just as quickly, her defenses went up again, her face hardening.

"Fine," she said coldly. "If that's how you feel, maybe we should stop pretending this is going to work."

She turned on her heel and stormed back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Shikamaru stood there, the quiet of the evening returning, but it brought no peace. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the argument settle over him like a dark cloud. He loved her—he knew he did—but the love they once shared was drowning beneath all the arguments, all the hurtful words, and the broken pieces of their life together.

All he had ever wanted was a peaceful life, a calm home to return to. But with each passing day, that dream seemed further out of reach.

Shikamaru slouched in his chair at the Hokage office, tapping his fingers idly against the desk as he waited for Naruto to finish signing a stack of documents. The room was dimly lit, the evening sun casting long shadows through the windows. Papers and scrolls were piled high around Naruto's desk, but the Hokage seemed unbothered by the mountain of work before him, humming quietly to himself as his pen scratched across the paper.

Shikamaru stared out the window, his mind far away from the task at hand. He had been in this office countless times, often late into the evening, helping Naruto with whatever village matters needed attending. Normally, the quiet companionship of the office was something he found peaceful, a break from the chaos of life outside. But today, his thoughts were weighed down by the argument with Temari. The silence in the room wasn't comforting—it was suffocating.

Naruto's voice broke through his thoughts. "Hey, Shikamaru," he said, his tone cheerful as always. "You still with me, or have you already fallen asleep?"

Shikamaru blinked, straightening in his chair. "Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He was used to Naruto's jokes about his laid-back demeanor, but today, it only grated at his already frayed nerves.

Naruto looked up from his papers, his blue eyes shining with his usual enthusiasm. "I was just thinking," he continued, leaning back in his chair with a grin, "I've been craving ichiraku Ramen, care to join me later? ."

Shikamaru nodded absently, though the sight of his friend struck a chord deep inside him. He glanced over at Naruto, noticing how relaxed and happy he looked, even after a long day of meetings and paperwork. His blond hair was still a mess, his Hokage cloak draped haphazardly over his chair, but there was a lightness to him, a sense of contentment that Shikamaru envied.

Naruto's life was far from easy. Being Hokage meant endless responsibilities, constant demands, and little time for family. But somehow, he seemed to manage it all without losing himself in the process. And then there was Hinata—always patient, always understanding, never asking for more than Naruto could give. Even after all these years, their bond seemed unshakeable. Naruto's gone most of the day, sometimes even overnight, but she never complains. Not once. It's like she understands that this is part of the job, She just... handles it

Shikamaru couldn't help but compare it to his own situation. His marriage to Temari, once strong and full of love, had become something he barely recognized. Where Naruto found peace and support in Hinata's quiet strength, Shikamaru found only tension and conflict with Temari. The constant arguments, the way she always seemed to be on edge, waiting for something to be wrong. It had worn him down in ways he hadn't even realized until now, sitting here in the Hokage's office, watching Naruto signing the documents.

"how is Hinata? It's been a while since I saw her," He found himself asking

"She's doing fine,.. Well at least two days ago, I didn't get to see her since" Naruto said sheepishly "She never complains about me being gone all the time. She's always there when I come home, smiling, asking about my day... she makes it easy you know! ."

Shikamaru's chest tightened. Easy. That's what he had wanted, too. A life that wasn't constantly filled with conflict. A marriage that felt like a partnership, not a battleground. But Temari had changed—or maybe he had. It was hard to tell when things had started to go wrong. All he knew was that the peaceful life he had once imagined with her was slipping further and further away.

Naruto's words kept running through his mind. Hinata never complains. It wasn't just about being absent, Shikamaru realized. Hinata understood Naruto's burdens, and instead of adding to them, she lightened the load. Even though they had no children yet, and Naruto was gone more often than not, there was no resentment, no anger simmering beneath the surface. Hinata's love was steady and unconditional, something Shikamaru had seen firsthand when they had all grown up together. It was different with Temari. Every little thing seemed to set her off lately, and Shikamaru couldn't help but feel like he was constantly walking on eggshells around her, trying not to provoke another argument.

And then there was the issue of children.

Neither Shikamaru nor Temari had spoken much about it, but it loomed in the background, an unspoken tension between them. After a year of marriage, people had started asking when they would start a family, and every time the question came up, Temari's face darkened. She would brush it off with a sharp comment, or worse, she'd take her frustration out on him later, accusing him of not being ready, of not wanting the same things she did. But the truth was, Shikamaru didn't know if he was ready. How could he even think about bringing a child into the chaos that their marriage had become?

"You're quiet today, Shikamaru," Naruto said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "What's going on? Something on your mind?"

Shikamaru sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Just... thinking, I guess."

Naruto laughed, a sound that was both familiar and comforting. "Aren't you always thinking?"

Shikamaru smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, maybe too much."

There was a pause, and Naruto's expression softened. He wasn't always the most perceptive person, but he knew Shikamaru well enough to see when something was bothering him. "Is everything okay with you and Temari?" he asked gently, his tone unusually serious.

Shikamaru hesitated. He wasn't one to talk about his personal problems, especially not with Naruto, who had enough on his plate. But the weight of it all was pressing down on him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing something important. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "Things have been... rough lately."

Naruto's brows furrowed in concern. "Rough how?"

Shikamaru rubbed his temples, feeling the familiar headache creeping in. "We've been fighting. A lot. She's always angry, always upset about something, and I can't seem to do anything right. It's like... no matter what I do, it's never enough."

Naruto's face softened in understanding. "That sounds tough, man. I know Temari can be... intense."

Shikamaru snorted. "That's an understatement."

"But you guys love each other, right?" Naruto asked, his voice full of hope, as if love alone could solve everything.

Shikamaru paused, the question hanging in the air between them. Did they still love each other? He had loved her once, that much was certain. But now... now, it felt like they were both trapped in something they didn't know how to fix. "I don't know," he said finally, the admission heavy on his tongue. "It doesn't feel like it used to. I love her, but... it's like all we do is fight. And I'm tired, Naruto. I'm tired of coming home to arguments and broken things."

Naruto looked at him thoughtfully, his expression unusually serious. "Have you talked to her about it? Like, really talked?"

Shikamaru sighed. "I've tried. But every time I bring it up, she gets defensive, and it turns into another fight. I don't know how to get through to her anymore."

Naruto was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I get it. You know, It might seem different but.. When Hinata and I get to an argument she never voices her thoughts, she'd rather let things bottled up and.. I don't know how to get through to her either."

Shikamaru glanced at Naruto, surprised by the rare moment of insight. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered. "But it's different with Temari. She's not... she's not like Hinata."

Naruto smiled a little. "No one is."

Shikamaru huffed a dry laugh, though it held no humor. Naruto didn't realize how lucky he was, how effortless his relationship seemed compared to the turmoil in Shikamaru's own marriage. The contrast stung more than Shikamaru wanted to admit. He didn't envy Naruto's position as Hokage—he didn't want that kind of responsibility—but the stability Naruto had with Hinata? That, he envied.

The way Naruto talks about his wife, the pride and affection in his voice—it made Shikamaru realize just how far he and Temari had drifted from that place of love. There was no ease between them anymore, no shared understanding. Just tension, arguments, and the slow erosion of whatever bond they had once shared.

As Naruto returned to his paperwork, Shikamaru leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending that everything was fine. Not when his home felt like a warzone. Not when the love he had for Temari was fading into something he could barely recognize.

But as he sat there, in the quiet of the Hokage office, one thought stood out above all the rest: How long could he keep holding on to something that was already slipping through his fingers? How long could he continue this charade, pretending that things would get better, when deep down he wasn't sure they ever would?

Shikamaru opened his eyes and glanced at Naruto again. The Hokage was scribbling away, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling inside his friend. Shikamaru envied Naruto's simplicity, his unwavering optimism. Naruto had his own share of challenges, sure, but with Hinata by his side, it seemed like he could face anything.

Hinata, who never complained, who supported Naruto even in his most absent moments. They had no children yet, but Shikamaru knew it was only a matter of time. And when that day came, he had no doubt Hinata would be as graceful and patient as she always was. She was the type of person who made life easier for those around her, not harder. He had always admired that about her, even when they were kids. It was no wonder Naruto had chosen her, and no wonder their marriage worked so well despite the demands of Naruto's role as Hokage.

Shikamaru's thoughts drifted back to his own marriage. He and Temari had no children either, but that didn't seem to alleviate any of the tension between them. If anything, it only made things worse. Every argument seemed to circle back to the future, to expectations neither of them could agree on. Shikamaru didn't even know if he wanted kids, not anymore. How could he bring a child into the chaos that had taken over their lives? How could he be a father when he could barely keep his own marriage from falling apart?

The weight of it all pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long while, Shikamaru felt completely, utterly lost. He had always been the one with the answers, the one who could see ten steps ahead. But now, standing at the edge of his crumbling marriage, he realized he had no idea what came next.

Naruto looked up again, noticing the faraway look in Shikamaru's eyes. "You okay, Shikamaru?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Shikamaru gave a tired shrug, not trusting himself to speak. How could he explain what he was feeling? How could he admit that his marriage, the thing he had once believed in, was slowly unraveling in his hands?

"I don't know, Naruto," he said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "I don't know if things are ever going to be okay again."

Naruto's brow furrowed, clearly taken aback by the rare vulnerability in Shikamaru's voice. "Hey, man, whatever it is, we'll figure it out," he said, his tone firm but reassuring. "You've got people who care about you, you know? And Temari... she cares, too. Maybe you just need some time to work things out."

Shikamaru sighed. "Maybe." He wanted to believe that, but deep down, he wasn't so sure. Time had only made things worse so far.

There was a knock at the door, and Naruto's assistant peeked in, reminding him of another meeting. Naruto glanced at the clock and sighed, standing up from his desk. "I've got to go, but listen, if you ever need to talk, I'm here. Don't forget that."

Shikamaru nodded, offering a weak smile. "Yeah, thanks."

As Naruto left the room, Shikamaru remained seated, his thoughts swirling. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding the truth. Sooner or later, he would have to face the reality of his marriage and decide whether it was worth saving. But for now, all he could do was sit in the quiet of the Hokage office, wondering if there was a way to fix something that felt so broken.

Or if it was already too late.