Summer Fruit
ShikaTema/STS Family. When Temari is homesick, Shikamaru and Shikadai try their best to cheer her up.

Temari wouldn't trade her cozy little family life for anything in the world, but that didn't mean she didn't get horribly homesick whenever she thought about her brothers or how it felt to feel the blazing heat of the sun beating down on her head and her skin. She remembered playing out in the sand dunes with a bucket of water and making sand castles. Kankuro never failed to sniff her out during these times, and whenever he found her, he came at her shoddy creations with a battle-cry and stomped all over them, shouting, "The Great Village has fallen!" and Temari would chase him down with her fan, the small one she used to have before Baki had gifted her a new one, and threatened to beat him bloody. She never did, of course; by the time they'd tired themselves out, Kankuro would bully her into buying him a cold drink once they got back through the village gates. They often spent the rest of their days sitting on top of the roof of their home, sipping away at their icy drinks until they were called in for dinner.

Temari smiled to herself. Those were the days when Kankuro and Temari sought solace in each other, afraid of their murderous little brother and before they were all put into a team together. The Sand Siblings, they were called, only it really wasn't until Gaara had battled his inner demons and won when they truly had become siblings. The three of them used to have meals with each other until Temari made the decision to move to Konoha to be with Shikamaru. Their last dinner was both a happy and sad one, and Temari felt her smile slip away when she remembered how Gaara touched her wrist lightly and told her that he was happy for her, and how Kankuro slung a strong arm around her neck and told her to not 'let herself go.' She whacked him in the stomach for that and he laughed, ruffling her hair.

Temari instinctively felt the urge to jump up and reach for the kunai strapped to her thigh underneath her clothes when someone suddenly came barreling at her, effectively ripping her away from her thoughts. Fortunately - and Temari relaxed - it was only Shikadai, looking down at her unhappily.

"I called you like a thousand times, mom," he grumbled, plopping himself down in front of her. He looked so much like Shikamaru, almost none of her in him. Except for her eyes; he had her eyes, the same shade of teal. It made her heart clench sweetly. A memento from home of sorts.

Temari laughed and mussed his hair, allowing him to shake her off. "Sorry," she said, smiling at him. "What is it that you wanted?"

"I wanted some melons," he said sighing, as if she had somehow wronged him for not jumping up at his request and rushing to the kitchens when he called her the first time. Brat. "But you didn't answer, so I went to see if we had any myself. We don't."

"So?" Temari said, feeling the corner of her mouth twitch when he narrowed his eyes at her, as if appalled by her answer. "You know where the marketplace is. Get some money and buy them yourself."

"What, by myself?"

Temari flicked his nose. She still didn't know where he got his attitude from - she certainly hadn't been such a pain at his age. It must have come from Shikamaru. "I," she said, tapping his nose now, "am your mother. Not your slave. You've got two legs and two arms. I'm sure you can do things by yourself."

"I didn't say to go buy them for me," Shikadai said, injured. "I said to come with me."

"That isn't what you said," Temari pointed out. He looked at her, unimpressed. Shikamaru's favorite expression.

"Mom."

"Fine," Temari sighed. She allowed Shikadai to pull her up with both hands, trying hard not to laugh when he stumbled at her weight. He was still so small, even at eleven, but sooner or later he would be craning his neck down to look at her, the way Shikamaru did. Maybe he'd even be taller than his father; Ino had told her that Shikadai was taller than Shikamaru when Shikamaru had been his age. Temari teased Shikamaru by asking him just how small was he before he'd had his growth spurt, and she remembered laughing when he sighed at her and half-heartedly tried to pull away from her embrace.

Shikadai led Temari to the marketplace, grumbling at her to hurry up. When they got to one of the fruit stands, Temari kept having to smack and prod Shikadai's hand away, reprimanding him for picking out the wrong melons.

"I don't see how you can tell," he said, rapping one of the melons with his knuckles smartly. Temari didn't want to tell him that she didn't know either; she usually left the melon-buying to Shikamaru, after he'd belly-ached how she didn't have an eye for fruits.

"Just trust me on this," she told Shikadai. She paid for the three melons she picked out and when she turned around, ready to tell Shikadai to stop abusing the unwanted melons, she started, surprised, when he took the bags from her. "They're heavy," she told him, trying to take the bags back, but he stepped out of reach.

"Let's go," he told her, ducking away from her hands. "There's this new cafe -"

"No," Temari said sharply. "We have food back at the house."

"You can take money out of my allowance," Shikadai said, waving a hand carelessly. "Please? Everyone's been talking about it."

"I said no, Shikadai."

"Fine. I have to stop by Inojin's place for a bit, so I'm going to go on ahead," Shikadai said, darting off before Temari could say another word. Temari watched him go, the plastic bag of melons swinging at his side, and she shook her head, sighing. She could catch him if she wanted to, and he knew it very well, but Temari headed home instead, alone. A nap sounded good; the day was warm and Shikamaru wasn't due back home for another couple of hours and who knew when Shikadai would come home - if she knew her son, he'd climb on top of a roof and doze off until Shikamaru went looking for him and drag him back for dinner.

Yes, a nap sounded good. She made her way through the village, the village she'd called home for over a decade, but perhaps she was still plagued with feelings of nostalgia since that morning when she'd received a letter from Gaara about the upcoming Kage Summit that was to be held in Konoha the following month, because as she looked up at the buildings and at the sky, she suddenly wished she was seeing varying shades of tan and brown, the sun hanging mercilessly high in the sky, and she even missed the wisps of sand that would occasionally blow through the air, even if it did used to get into her eyes.

The feeling would pass; it always did, usually when Shikamaru and Shikadai were with her, and whenever she looked at them, both of them nearly identical save for their eyes, her thoughts of home would be effectively put on the back-burner. She loved them both, so much that she couldn't bare the thought of living apart from them, and she didn't want to - not ever.

She only wished that Suna wasn't so far away. A three-day journey, but those were three-days she spent away from her husband and son, and even longer considering how she usually spent more than a night in Suna. It also took her another three days to come back to her family. Far too long, indeed; she was also incredibly busy as of late, beginning to go out on more missions again now that Shikadai was just a year away from graduating from the academy.

She eventually made it home, ready to snuggle in the bed she shared with Shikamaru and drift off into sleep before she would have to get up and prepare dinner - but she never got the chance to.

Temari briefly lamented her lost opportunity to get a good few hours of shut-eye.

"Took you long enough," Shikadai grumbled, coming to the genkan to greet her.

"Inojin wasn't home, eh?" Temari asked, taking off her sandals and she tripped when Shikadai grabbed her wrist and began to pull her. "Shikadai, wait -"

"I've got a surprise," he told her, still pulling her and Temari grudgingly allowed herself to be led in the direction of the dining room. Little brat; she highly suspected that there was a melon and a knife waiting for her on the dining table, waiting to be rid of it's hard peel and the fruit diced into bite-sized squares the way Shikadai liked them.

But when they came to a stop in front of the dining table, the melons were already peeled, and they weren't diced; they were cut length-wise into long wedges, the way she liked them. Temari nearly reached out to pinch Shikadai's cheeks to tell him how cute he was, but then she noticed what was next to the melon wedges.

"Uncle Kankuro said you liked them," Shikadai said, squirming when Temari continued to stare. "I know they aren't chestnuts but they're not in season, so I got the next best thing."

Temari swallowed and let herself be pushed by Shikadai who grumbled his father's, and now his, favorite catchphrase. She sat down at the table, and gave one of the strawberry daifukus a poke with a finger. Shikadai sat next to her, reaching for a melon and chomped away lazily, seemingly ignoring the fact that his mother was still staring at the sweet in front of her.

They weren't her favorite, nor even her second favorite; they were Kankuro's favorite, the only sweet thing he liked, and while Temari ate them whenever they were offered to her, she hardly ever bothered going out of her way to purchase them herself - in fact, she hadn't purchased them in years, because Shikadai never asked for them, and Shikamaru had never seemed to like sweets all that much anyway. She barely missed the taste, only choosing to opt for sweet chestnuts and and the occasional dango sticks if she was hankering for a dessert.

But she took one and bit into it, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Shikadai watching her intently. She couldn't help but smile, really smile, the kind that made her face ache, and she could see the small smile forming on her son's lips before he turned away to focus on finishing his melon wedge.

No, strawberry daifukus weren't her favorite by a long shot, but Shikadai couldn't have known that. Her son might have been many things - bratty on occasions, a bit lazy like her father - but he was also unnervingly attentive and most importantly, Temari knew that she mattered to him; knew that he enjoyed seeing her smile, seeing her happy.

She would never bring it up to him, of course; Shikadai detested being embarrassed and frankly, sometimes it made Temari embarrassed whenever someone - even it were Shikamaru or Shikadai - did anything remotely loving for her. It was best not to say anything.

Still, though, she couldn't help but finish the snack and hugged him tight. She laughed when he gave a long-suffering sigh when she kissed him on the forehead.

"You're a rude one, aren't you?" She said fondly, wiping his forehead off.

Shikadai wriggled free, batting her hands away. "Think I got it from you."

"Your dad. You got it from your dad."

x

Dinner was relatively uneventful, but relaxing and enjoyable all the same.

Shikadai went turned into bed early afterwards, complaining that he hadn't gotten in his daily nap even though it had been his day off from the academy, and Shikamaru graciously allowed him to turn in for the night. Normally, the three of them would spend the rest of the evening out in the back where the deers roamed, and Shikadai would train under the watchful eyes of his parents, although he liked to try and weasel his way out of it whenever he got too bored, which seemed to happen more and more as the days went on. How like his father, Temari often liked to think to herself in both fondness and exasperation, but there was still traits of hers that shone brightly in Shikadai; like her, he didn't quite like losing and whenever he was particularly interested in something, he gave it his all. Of course, she could almost hear Kankuro scoff at her, whenever Shikadai acted so much like her. He's my nephew. It's only natural.

But tonight, Shikadai escaped into his room and gave both of his parents a quick good night, but only after Temari reprimanded him to do his part in clearing the table. Shikamaru and Temari finished clearing off the table and putting their plates and utensils away into the sink, where Temari quickly busied herself with the dishes. Shikamaru stayed with her, the way he always did, and helped her dry off everything she handed him. They made small, but comfortable talk, with both of them asking each other how their days went. Afterwards, they opened their doors leading out to their gardens and sat close to each other in silence.

They often did this at night, whenever Shikadai went to sleep; staring up at the stars, occasionally murmuring something and grunting softly in reply, and sometimes Shikamaru would reach over to grab one of her hands into his. Temari remembered that in the beginning of their relationship, both of them would blush and look pointedly away from each other - they were quick to tease one another at the drop of a hat, but a simple physical gesture often rendered them both shy and unwilling to look each other in the eye.

Now, though, Temari only smiled faintly to herself as she gazed up at the stars when she felt one Shikamaru's calloused hands grab hers. His hands always felt so warm and even though she was more than used to him touching her, she still felt a little flush of heat around the neck whenever he took her hands gently into his.

She gripped his hands tightly in response when she felt his thumb brush over her knuckles. Then, with one more swipe of his thumb over her knuckles, he pulled away and stood up, disappearing back into the house. She tried not to frown; usually, he'd tug her up and lead her back into the house and into their room, where they would change into their nightly attire and actually talk - they spoke very little under the night sky, both unwilling to somehow wake Shikadai up as well as breaking the peaceful ambience beneath the stars, and so they often reserved their evening conversations in bed.

Before she could think that perhaps Shikamaru had somehow had a very tiring day and decided to turn in extra early for the night - an act that would warrant a sly, but slightly irate comment from her, for leaving her outside, which in turn would coerce him into making a snarky retort back - he returned, holding something in his hands, and took his place again by her side.

It was the remaining daifukus Shikadai had scampered away to buy for her in the afternoon. Shikamaru held one out for her and Temari took it. He watched as she bit into it and then one of the corners of his lips quirked upwards. He took one for himself and pushed Temari to finish the rest.

They continued to hold hands under the stars for another hour, with Temari squeezing his hand tightly each time Shikamaru ran his thumb over her knuckles.

x

They talked about everything once in bed, and Temari confided in Shikamaru that she was feeling a bit nostalgic again. Shikamaru listened to her quietly as she reminisced about the days when Kankuro used to stomp all over her wet sand castles, and how they used to steal away ice-cold drinks to the top of the roof of their old home until sundown; how Gaara first began sitting down and eating together with them at the dining table; how Kankuro had watery eyes (something he later vehemently denied) during Temari and Shikamaru's wedding ceremony. At that particular memory, Shikamaru grinned at her and asked if she remembered how Naruto had poked at the puppet-master's face and cackled loudly at the smeared paint on his cheeks.

After a while, when Temari was finished spilling her thoughts, Shikamaru quietly drew her closer to him and Temari surrendered to him completely and buried her face into his chest. It felt good whenever Shikamaru listened to her whenever she got homesick; he never made her feel stupid or selfish for occasionally missing her old home or her brothers, because afterwards, whenever he drew her close to him, she felt warm and happy. He was always exceptionally talented at that, and Temari sighed comfortably when he began to stroke her back.

She also especially liked it whenever he waited for her to fall asleep - and he always waited for her to fall asleep - because the second he thought she was completely out under the sandman's spell, he always pressed a kiss on her forehead every night without fail. He never really quite liked doing it whenever he thought she was awake, and of course, she was always awake for it.

She'd never tell him, however; as much as she liked to laugh herself sick at the sight of him blushing and hearing him grumble at her, even after so many years together and with one child stomping around, this was one secret she wanted to keep.

This is nice, she thought sleepily. She could always count on her boys to cheer her up whenever she fell victim to nostalgia.

She only allowed herself to drift off into sleep when Shikamaru gently pulled her closer, and pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"Good night."