Temari kept her head down as she walked through the sandy streets of Suna. Her eyes remained glued to the ground, yet she was still aware of the cold glances being thrown her way. She fought back tears. She would not allow herself to cry in front of them.

She kept walking and didn't stop until she was out of the confines of the village. She dropped to her knees and stared into space.

Temari swiped angrily at a tear that slipped down her cheek. She hated to cry. It made her look weak.

She laughed, a harsh sound. She was weak. That was why she was in this predicament.

It had started four years ago, when she was nineteen. Since she was the liason, she traveled back and forth between Suna and Konoha. During her time in the latter village, she had grown close to Shikamaru, the lazy Nara she had fought in the final round of that fateful Chunin exam.

No, she was more than close to him. She loved him, and he loved her. He often called her his rose. When asked why, he replied that although she was beautiful, she was dangerous. Just like a rose is beautiful, yet if you're not careful, you'll get pricked by the thorns.

Temari cursed. She should have known better than to become involved with a foreign ninja. She should have known that there wouldn't always be peace between their villages. She should have known that someday they would become enemies.

She had known, but she had chosen to ignore those facts. And now she was paying for that mistake. Her first mistake.

Two years ago, relations grew strained between Suna and Konoha. The tension had been so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Tsunade and Gaara tried to patch the treaty up. It worked, too, until a Leaf ninja killed a Sand ninja.

War broke out.

Temari hated war. She hated the death, the destruction. There had been too much of it in her life. Yet she was thrust into it unwillingly. She dutifully obeyed what Gaara told her to do. But then she failed that mission.

There had been reports of a Leaf ninja sneaking around the village. Gaara sent her to apprehend the spy and kill him.

Temari would have been able to finish the mission if her opponent had not been Shikamaru. She had frozen, unable to move, but not because he had used his jutsu on her. She couldn't kill him.

They had stared at each other for a few seconds before their emotions took control.

She should have known better than to disobey Gaara. She should have known better than to kiss the enemy. She should have known that she was playing with fire.

She had known, but she had chosen to ignore those facts. And now she was paying for that mistake. Her second mistake.

They had been discovered by Kankuro. Temari will never forget the look on her brother's face when she stopped him from attacking Shikamaru.

Now she was considered a traitor, a disgrace. She was not allowed on any missions, even if there were other people going. No one trusted her, not even Gaara and Kankuro. Her own brothers had turned against her. But then again, she had turned against them first, hadn't she?

She had nothing left to live for. She had no one left to live for.

Temari pulled out a kunai and stared at her reflection. She knew that she had one chance left. She had two strikes against her. One more, and she was out.

She would save them the trouble. She positioned the kunai at her wrist. She hesitated, then made a deep cut. As blood poured out from her wound, she felt herself growing weaker and weaker.

Finally, she slumped over.

Dead.

Inside the village, no one seemed to notice that Temari was gone. No one seemed to care when Gaara found her suicide note on her bed. No one went searching for her body to give it a proper burial.

She lay outside the city, the sand blowing and covering her body.

She was a rose forgotten.