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Sometimes, Shikadai thought his family could be quite normal. Like now, when he was sitting in an armchair and tapping away at his hand-held game, and his parents were leaning into one another on the couch, watching some boring movie. It seemed so peaceful and domestic.
And then he was abruptly reminded that his parents were insane, and peaceful moments never lasted.
“Are you working the day before your birthday?” Shikamaru asked.
Shikadai looked up from his game, wondering where this was going to go, and what fresh hell would arise from Shikamaru’s line of questioning.
Temari shrugged one shoulder. “Nope. I’m at home.”
“Ah. Good.”
There was silence again, which Shikadai knew wouldn’t last.
“Why?” Temari asked, shifting a bit so she could eye Shikamaru.
He didn’t take his eyes off the TV. “Just need to know where to send your present so you won’t see it.”
“So you’re sending it to the office?”
“Maybe.”
“Why don’t you just hide it at home?”
Shikamaru ‘hrm’ed, and said casually, “It’s a bit tricky to hide.”
Now Temari was interested, and she sat up fully, turning on the couch. “. . . How big is it?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“How can you not know?”
“Haven’t seen it.”
Shikadai chucked under his breath, wondering if Shikamaru was riling Temari up on purpose or not.
She was starting to look irritated. “Stop answering like a dork and tell me what it is.”
“That’d ruin the surprise,” Shikamaru said reasonably.
“What could you possibly have done that couldn’t be hidden within the house?”
“Could be anything,” Shikamaru mused, and now Shikadai knew he was doing it on purpose. Part of the plan was clearly to annoy Temari. Shikadai wondered why. It’s not like Shikamaru had a history of winning domestic squabbles. “Lots of things can’t be hidden in a house.”
“Like what?” Temari challenged.
“Mountains. Another house. Train-“ Shikamaru’s list was cut short by Temari’s sharp slap to his shoulder, and he bit his lip to fight back a grin.
Shikadai snorted.
“What did you get me?” Temari asked again.
“Can’t ruin the surprise,” Shikamaru said, leisurely putting an arm around her shoulders. “Settle down and watch the movie, and try not to think about it too much.”
Shikadai returned his attention to his game, but he could hear Temari muttering under her breath.
She sent Shikamaru a look. “This is only going to make your life harder, because now I’m going to bother you until you tell me what it is.”
“You’ve been bothering me since I was twelve years old; why would it suddenly start being a problem now?” Shikamaru smiled. “And I didn’t bring it up to annoy you, I brought it up so I knew where to send the present. That’s all.”
A few more minutes of peace, then Temari muttered, “You can’t ‘deliver’ a house.”
“I know.”
“So it’s not a house.”
“I never said it was.”
“Is this some sort of misdirection technique to stop me from searching the house for the actual present?”
“You’ll have the house to yourself all day,” Shikamaru said. “So feel free to search it.”
“Maybe I will.”
Shikadai sighed. His friends didn’t have to put up with things like this. He tried to focus on his game, and ignore the constant snipping back and forth from both parents.
Was it too much to ask for one normal evening?
Shikadai was woken the next morning by his desk drawers being roughly opened.
He sat up groggily, blinking. “Mom?”
“Just searching for gifts,” Temari said shortly, slamming the drawers shut.
“Ugh,” Shikadai flopped back down with a groan. “Why does your birthday have to be such a drag?”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Temari muttered, flinging his closet open. “There’s nothing in the house.”
“Because Dad’s sending it to the office,” Shikadai mumbled, trying to recapture sleep. “Just wait until tomorrow.”
“He started this,” Temari said, although Shikadai thought that was thoroughly inaccurate. She shook him by the shoulder. “Get up, kid. Time for breakfast.”
“No, it’s not,” Shikadai moaned, covering his head with the blankets.
“Up in the next five minutes, or I’ll drag you out of bed myself.”
Shikadai heaved a sigh. No point in arguing with her. He threw the blankets back resignedly.
“Where in the office?” Temari was asking as Shikadai stumbled into the kitchen.
Shikamaru had finished eating, and was eying her across the table over his coffee. “It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t want to be surprised. I want to know what it is.”
“And I want a non-troublesome wife, but we’re both going to be disappointed.”
Shikadai sat down with a grumpy moan, reaching across the table for cereal, since he lacked the energy for anything more creative and he lacked the courage to ask Temari to make him something. She seemed to be in a combative mood, and it was too early to fight over nutrition.
Temari continued drilling Shikamaru for information, and he calmly deflected it all, refusing to give away any more details than he had last night.
“Shikamaru, you can’t bring it up and then ignore me,” Temari growled.
“All I needed to know was that you would be at home today,” he replied mildly. “You’re the one making a big deal out of it.”
“Because I’m interested now, and I want to know more.”
“And your birthday is tomorrow, where all shall be revealed.”
Shikadai decided now was a good time to make an exit. He stood up, carrying his bowl to the sink and turning to leave the kitchen.
“Shikadai,” Shikamaru called, “Won’t you drop this off with Yurito on your way to see what your mission is today?”
Shikadai turned to find his father holding a folded note between his fingers. “Uh, sure?”
“Thanks. It’s about your mom’s gift, so don’t lose it.”
“What?” Temari whipped her head around.
Shikadai froze in place, the note in his hand. “Um . . .”
“Gimme,” Temari demanded, holding out a hand.
“Take it and run,” Shikamaru advised.
“Give me that, or I’ll kick you into next week,” Temari stood up suddenly, and Shikadai jumped back a defensive few steps.
“Leave him alone, Tem,” Shikamaru said.
“Not until you tell me what you have planned.”
“You’re going to be late,” Shikamaru prompted his son. “Go meet your team.”
“Stay where you are,” Temari warned, and Shikadai hesitated, uncertain of which parent to obey.
“Everything is in the note, so just take it and go,” Shikamaru said calmly, and that motivated Temari to begin closing the distance between herself and Shikadai.
Before she could reach him, Shikamaru put his mug down and lazily extended his shadow to her, trapping her in place. Temari sent him a glare. “Seriously?”
“Run, kid,” Shikamaru said, sounding ridiculously relaxed considering he had effectively put a bounty on his son’s head.
Shikadai hesitated again, until Temari turned her glare on him. Then he turned and bolted.
After a suitable head start, Shikamaru released his shadow, and Temari turned to face him, looking very annoyed.
“Well, I’m off to work,” Shikamaru said, standing up. “Have a nice day at home.”
Temari narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah. Sure. I will.”
Shikadai was just walking innocently with Inojin and Chocho, idly chatting about nothing, when he was abruptly sideswiped away from them in a lurching flash of wind. When the world stopped spinning a second later, he was on top of a building with Temari gripping him by the shoulders.
“Where’s the note your father gave you?”
His stomach was still heaving from being snatched out of thin air, and he gaped at her. “Where did you come from?”
“Answer the question, Shikadai,” Temari snapped. “He’s scheming something, and I want to know what it is.”
Shikadai rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you just wait and see what he’s doing instead of being a drag about it?”
“Note,” she repeated, giving him a brief shake.
Shikadai fumbled in his pocket. “Here. Can I go now?”
“Not yet. I might need your help.”
“My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Shikadai knew better than to try and make a run for it, so he stayed where he was, hands jammed in his pockets, as Temari unfolded the note.
She flicked her eyes from him to the note. “It’s just says for Yurito to check the memo before lunch time.”
Shikadai nodded. “Great. Sounds exactly like something you can do on your own-“
“Let’s go,” she grabbed his wrist.
Shikadai resisted being pulled. “Mom, I’m meant to be with my team-“
“I can’t be seen, because I’m meant to be at home, so I might need your help getting information.”
“You’re such a drag,” he whined, but he followed her anyway. Under his breath, he muttered, “Normal families don’t do this.”
“I heard that.”
Shikadai made a face. “I’ll get in trouble with Moegi-sensei for not showing up-“
“And what’s she going to do?” Temari asked. “Lodge a complaint with me?”
“Not if she wants to live,” Shikadai muttered.
“Exactly. You’ll be fine. Just shut up and be helpful.”
He shrugged. “I’m not good at either of those things.”
Ten minutes later saw Shikadai in a resigned heap on a tree branch near the Hokage building, waiting, while Temari crouched next to him on the branch and surveyed the surrounding area.
“Can we just go inside?” Shikadai whined. “How long are we going to sit here?”
“You might as well learn a thing or two about surveillance,” Temari remarked. “And we’re checking to see who’s around. We need to get inside without being seen, in case someone mentions that they saw us, and Shikamaru knows we’re here.”
“So if we go home and wait patiently like Dad asked, no one will see us,” Shikadai wondered if being reasonable would make the ‘mission’ end sooner. “That seems like a much smarter way to not get seen.”
“So is being good at stealth,” Temari sent him a sidelong glance. “It wouldn’t hurt you to learn to be quiet.”
“Dad says you get moody like this because you miss the desert,” Shikadai said, with a loud, dramatic sigh.
Temari chose not to comment on that, which was as good as an admission.
“How do we get in without being seen?” Shikadai asked.
“Keep away from the windows,” Temari said. “You don’t want your father to look out and spot us.”
“Why would he be looking out windows? Shouldn’t he be working?”
“It’s cute that you think he doesn’t daydream half the day away.” Temari deemed the coast clear, and made a lithe jump onto the wall, expertly anchoring herself halfway up the building with chakra.
Shikadai made a far less graceful landing beside her, and sent her an unimpressed look. “Now what?”
“Now we get inside,” Temari said, starting a careful route around to the back of the building.
“Door’s over there,” Shikadai pointed out, exasperated.
“Have you never infiltrated a building before?” Temari asked, looking back over her shoulder at him. “You don’t go through the door.”
“Is it even legal for you to infiltrate an official building? Doesn’t being from Suna mean you can’t do that?”
“Are you just going to be annoying?”
“Yes.”
With an irritated growl, Temari grabbed Shikadai by the back of his jacket and hurled him through a window. He landed with a distinct, inelegant thump, and she followed him soundlessly.
“Get up,” she said briskly.
Shikadai made a pointed effort to take his time getting up, and brushing himself off, and generally being obnoxious. Temari gave him an encouraging thud on the shoulder to get him moving, and Shikadai made an irritated noise at the back of his throat, but he started trudging down the hall anyway, checking for anyone along their route.
They made it to the small admin office, where Shikamaru’s assistant usually worked, without being seen, and Shikadai knocked on the door, and pushed it open, peering inside. The office was empty except for Yurito, who Shikadai had a feeling was going want a new job after today. “Hey.”
“Oh, hello, Shikadai, nice to see you,” Yurito said brightly.
“Yeah, hold that thought.” He flung the door open. “Coast’s clear, Mom.”
Yurito’s happy expression faltered when he caught sight of Temari.
Without preamble, she marched up to him.
“What do you know about this note?” Temari asked, holding it out for him to see.
“I was told not to say anything to you,” Yurito stuttered, swallowing nervously.
Temari’s eyes narrowed. “So you do know where Shikamaru’s hiding it?”
Yurito shook his head. “No. Nope. Not at all. Don’t know anything.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t,” he squeaked. “I don’t know anything-“
“She’s not going to take no for an answer,” Shikadai put in lazily, slouched against the wall. “So it’d probably save you time and dignity to just give in.”
Yurito cleared his throat, and blurted out, “Shikamaru said I’m not allowed to tell you anything or else I’d be fired!”
“And who are you more afraid of?” Temari growled. “Being fired will be painless.”
Shikadai snorted. “I don’t think you can torture someone over a birthday present . . .”
Yurito, apparently, was not willing to take the risk. “I had to contact someone down in the archives, and they’re sorting it all out.”
“Thank you,” Temari said pleasantly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She spun on her heel to march out the office. “Shikadai, come.”
Shikadai pushed himself off the wall, sending Yurito a casual wave. “Later, dude. We’ll tell Dad you tried your best.”
“You could just wait until tomorrow,” Shikadai said, wondering if offering logic would be helpful.
“No, because Shikamaru wouldn’t have brought it up at all if he didn’t want me to be interested in it. He’s plotting something, the sneaky bastard, and we’re going to find out what it is.” Temari marched down the hall towards the archives.
“Seems like a solo escapade,” Shikadai remarked. “Why am I still here?”
“Because I said so.” Temari knew the archive halls well; back before she and Shikamaru got together, she had spent many hours planning things with him. She went straight for the large communal room where a lot of work happened, looking at the desks for a familiar face. She knew several of the people working there, but none of them were likely to have been singled out by Shikamaru for whatever clandestine task he had invented.
Luckily, walking nearby and tapping a pen absently on a clipboard, was Shiho.
“Shiho,” Temari perked up. “Has Shikamaru left any notes here lately?”
The other woman stopped at the sound of Temari’s voice, and turned to face them. “Oh, hello, Temari. Um,” Shiho adjusted her glasses and flipped a page over on her clipboard. “Yes, actually. He’s asked for room 25 to be emptied. That request was filed by Yurito this morning.”
“Do you know why he requested that?” Temari asked.
“No, sorry,” Shiho shook her head. “He didn’t say why. Just that it needed to be done.” She shrugged apologetically. “If it helps, it should have been done already.”
“Did Shikamaru come in at all?” Temari asked.
“No, I haven’t seen him today. As far as I know, he’s in the Hokage office.” She looked at Shikadai. “I hear you’re pretty smart; are you going to help out with the decryption team when you’re older?”
“I might not survive today, so I’m not making any long-term plans,” Shikadai replied dryly.
“Ah, well, it was lovely to have you drop by. You look more like your dad every time I see you,” Shiho smiled broadly.
“Yeah, I hear that a lot,” Shikadai replied flatly.
“Little bit more attitude than him, though,” Shiho added amiably.
“He hears that a lot too,” Temari put in. “Thanks for your help; we’re going to break into room 25 now.”
“Have fun,” Shiho waved, and went back to focusing on her work.
Temari and Shikadai followed the hallway down to the bottom of the archives to the storage section. Shikadai had never been down there before, and he looked around curiously.
“Lot of . . . really old creepy passages around here,” he remarked. “You and Dad used to work down here a lot?”
“It’s not so bad,” Temari shrugged. “It can be pretty quiet, and it’s private. No one’s interrupting anything you do.”
Shikadai stopped walking, asking suspiciously, “What would you be doing that you wouldn’t want interrupted?”
“Here’s 25,” Temari stopped triumphantly in front of a door. “Now we can see what that idiot is hiding.”
Shikadai came to her side, at the exact same moment that Temari grabbed the door handle, and noticed the lock.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Temari huffed at the combination lock on the door. “It couldn’t be a regular door we just break into; it has to be a dumb combination?”
“Why don’t you just kick the door down?” Shikadai asked.
“All the archive rooms have alarms on them, the whole security system will go apeshit,” Temari explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Better just to get the code.”
Shikadai groaned. “Can I please go home?”
“No. You’re helping.”
“I’m really not.”
“Sai would probably know the code,” Temari mused.
“Why not just ask Dad?”
“Because then he’ll know what we’re doing, obviously,” Temari grabbed Shikadai by the back of the shirt and began dragging him off with her.
“Won’t Naruto know the codes?”
“Yes, but he’ll be in his office, and Shikamaru is there, too. See the problem?”
Shikadai twisted around to follow her, raising an eyebrow at her back. “I see a problem.”
“Yes, Sai’s home,” Ino greeted them chirpily from behind the flower shop counter. “He had the day off.”
“We just need to get a security code from him,” Temari explained. “Shikamaru’s being an idiot and I need information.”
Ino shrugged. “Okay. Sounds like something I don’t want to get involved in.”
“You really don’t,” Shikadai muttered. He heaved a dramatic sigh when Temari thanked Ino and marched off to the Yamanaka house, hammering purposefully on the door.
Sai opened it after a minute, looking blankly at them. “Hello?”
“Sai, I need the security code for room 25 in the archives. Shikamaru’s hiding something in there and we need to know what it is.”
“We don’t,” Shikadai muttered.
“Room 25?” Sai blinked. “It’s 2910.”
“Thank you,” Temari said.
Shikadai heaved another sigh, prepared to be dragged away once again. “It’s getting late, Mom, and I’m meant to be at training, so-“
“Don’t even pretend you’re upset about missing that,” she growled. “You were going to skip it and nap.”
“Wasn’t,” Shikadai muttered. “Was gonna play games.”
They made their way back to the Hokage building, and back down to the archives, and Temari triumphantly punched in the code for the door.
It opened instantly, and Temari threw a satisfied look at Shikadai. “Finally, we can get to the bottom of this mystery.”
“Waiting until your birthday would have garnered the same results.”
Temari rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
She flung the door open.
And stared.
The room was empty.
Shikadai peered around her. “. . . I feel like ‘anti-climactic’ might be a good term to use here.”
“It’s empty,” Temari gaped. “There’s nothing here.”
“Maybe he knew you were going to look so he didn’t put it here,” Shikadai yawned. “Eh, this whole thing was a drag.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Sounds like a reasonable response,” Shikadai said with a raise of an eyebrow.
“That idiot,” she muttered. “Wasting the whole day . . .”
“Technically,” Shikadai started, but he snapped his mouth shut when Temari turned a glare on him.
“Well, I’m gonna go hang out with Inojin,” Shikadai said. “Have fun yelling at Dad.”
Shikamaru was sitting on his lazy ass and smoking on the porch when Temari came stomping home.
He merely raised an eyebrow at her hostile approach.
“There was nothing there,” she growled.
“I know,” he replied leisurely.
Temari blinked. “What?”
“There was never anything there. Your present is here.” He took a long, slow drag of his cigarette. “I needed you out of the house.”
“You . . . tricked me?”
“If I had asked you to leave, you would have spied on me, and it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” he pointed out, and Temari couldn’t dispute that.
“So you sent me off on a wild goose chase around the village,” she realized.
“Pretty much.”
“. . . Did you even go into the office today?”
“Nope. Asked Naruto for the day off to get this done. Left the house and waited for you to leave, and then came right back home.”
“You gave Shikadai that note, knowing I’d follow him . . .?”
He just grinned at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re such an idiot at home, sometimes I forget you’re pretty smart when you want to be.”
“Yep,” he smirked at her. “And you’re pretty troublesome all the time so it’s hard to surprise you.”
Languidly, Shikamaru finished his cigarette and took his time snuffing it out, before giving her another smirk.
Temari was staring at him, not quite glaring, but definitely unamused.
Shikamaru stood up. “Wanna see it?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “This better be good.”
“Could be.” He did not lead her into the house. To Temari’s surprise, he stepped off the porch and went around the house to the back garden.
A smattering of deer moved leisurely apart for them to pass, and Shikamaru followed a small deer path a short way into the forest, not even five minutes’ walk from the house. He stopped then, where the trees thinned, and glanced over his shoulder at Temari.
She paused when she came level at his side, looking over the little clearing between the trees. There was a new structure there, a decently sized glass shed, looking pristine and new with the earth around it freshly dug.
She blinked. “You built me a greenhouse?”
“No. Quite the opposite, actually.” He gestured to the door.
Suitably intrigued, Temari pulled it open and stepped inside.
It was dry inside, and the floor was sand. Very familiar-looking sand.
Desert sand.
Temari stared dumbly at the ground. After a long moment to process that she was, in fact, standing on real desert sand, she looked around at the rest of the room. There was a little rockery in one corner, and earthy pots dotted around with varieties of plants in them – all of which she knew from Suna.
“You made me a little desert,” she said eventually, turning to look at him.
Shikamaru cleared his throat awkwardly, cheeks flushing pink. “Yeah, well . . . you miss it. And complain a lot. Figured this might shut you up a bit.”
“This is desert sand.”
“Yeah, it is.” Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck. “You would not believe how much Kankuro laughed at me when I told him I needed him to send me a train full of sand.”
Temari grinned. “You have to admit, it’s a funny request.”
She stared at the ground again. “This is really from Suna?”
“Gaara said it’s from some sand dune south of Suna, if that means anything to you.”
“It does,” she said softly. “Kankuro and I used to watch the sunset from there when we were younger and didn’t want to go home.”
The sand was warm; the sun’s light being amplified through the glass walls and roof. It made the air dry and dull, and familiar.
“It’s pretty hard to get you things you want,” Shikamaru said. “Some women want flowers, and some want chocolates, and you want a whole desert. Couldn’t give you the whole one, but maybe a bit of it will help.”
Temari remained silent, still looking around in bewildered wonderment.
“Every time we go to Suna you stare at those dunes like you want to bring them home with you, and I’m not gonna lie, it makes me a bit nervous. You gave up a lot for me, and I’ve never forgotten that.” He sighed. “So here’s a little bit of ‘home’ for you.”
She wasn’t sure what to say.
Shikamaru let her mull things over for a while, not interrupting her thoughts.
After a few minutes, she turned to face him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him firmly. With a light chuckle, Shikamaru hugged her in return, curling his fingers into her hair.
“So, what do you think?” he asked, after a minute of just enjoying her being silent and in his arms.
Temari answered into his neck. “Smells like home.”
“Do you like it?”
She nodded against him, adjusting her grip on his back.
“Thank you,” she breathed. She lifted her head just enough to look around some more. “How did you manage all this in a day?”
“Called in some favours.” Shikamaru tugged lightly at her hair. “Three of the favours are sitting in the lounge, actually.”
Temari pulled abruptly out of his arms. “Really?”
“You didn’t think I was going to move sand by myself, when you have a brother and a nephew who can do it with far less effort?” He grinned at her. “No, Gaara and Shinki moved the sand. I just ordered everyone around. And tried to stop the deer from eating the plants before we could move them all inside. Kankuro offered to release some scorpions in here to make it more authentic.”
She laughed, then asked, “Did Shikadai know?”
“All he knew was that if you spoke to him, he needed to delay you.”
“That was why he was whining more than usual.” Temari snickered. “I figured he was just being extra stubborn. I was so ready to knock some manners into that kid.”
“Poor Shikadai. I owe him.”
Temari looked around again, expression soft. She could feel the warmth, and the sand under her felt familiar and firm, and it did feel like a little piece of home, all for her. And she knew if she laid a hand on the rocks, they would be hot under her palm, because that’s what they felt like at home. And she knew the plants would smell like dust and sunshine, because they always did. And if she closed her eyes and breathed in deep she would feel sand underneath her and the sun above her, and that was home.
She felt Shikamaru slide his hand into hers, and she closed her fingers around his, squeezing softly.
“Thanks for doing all this for me,” she murmured.
Shikamaru squeezed her hand. “Anything for you.”
She leant her head against his shoulder, and surveyed her little desert.
“So I didn’t have time to make dinner – because I was supervising the building of the best birthday present ever - and you were out, and your family is sitting inside so,” Shikamaru mused. “I guess we should go out for a family dinner.”
“Sounds good,” she smiled.
“Great. Where did you lose our son to?”
“Inojin. We can pick him up on the way.”
“Let’s go, then.” He tugged her gently towards the door. She followed slowly, reluctantly, eyes on the sand. It felt like it had been ages since she had seen it. And she missed the desert. She always had, and she always would. It didn’t make her love Shikamaru and Konoha any less it just . . . it never felt quite like home.
“Tem?” he questioned softly, when she hesitated again.
“I’m fine,” she said, scanning the various plants and feeling an aching longing in her chest, a wanting to be close to Suna.
“Come on,” his hand was still in hers. “The desert will still be here for you later.”
That was something she didn’t know she needed to hear, and that it was true sent a warm thrill through her.
Maybe it wasn’t Suna, but it was still her home.