on Spite

It's only a second in the grocery store, a momentary glimpse in her periphery, but somehow, Temari is attuned to her. And Temari knows, even as she walks past one aisle and over to the next one, that it can't be, because it makes no sense for her to just see some ponytail out of the corner of her eye and think, oh, her.

It's not as though the girl is particularly enticing. She isn't glamorous like some of the other women in Konoha; and she isn't distinctly attractive, nor does she carry herself in any superlative fashion that might draw Temari's eyes to her — and yet, tonight, Temari finds herself foolishly backtracking and looking over her shoulder because she can't tear her eyes away.

God. It's not like Temari isn't confident or anything of that sort. She isn't worried.

She knows their relationship is solid.

Well, maybe not solid, but at least, she knows that he loves her.

And she knows that Shiho had never even stood a chance against Temari, if one considered them to be competing at all. Which they shouldn't. They had never been adversaries — and not because the girl just wasn't worthy of competition because Temari was so much better, but because Shikamaru had been the one to pursue Temari in the first place and so she hadn't actually had to fight anyone off.

But surely Shiho had stood a chance in general, hadn't she?

She is… kind? And definitely smart. Smarter, in the ways Shikamaru could be, than Temari (in books and patterns and dedication to the minutiae).

She watches as Shiho makes her way, her back to Temari, down the aisle and over to the checkout line.

Temari holds her breath. Her heart is pounding, as though she has been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing.

Without thinking, she reaches to her right and grabs an extra-large box of condoms. She doesn't even look at the brand. She isn't even in need of condoms right now. But she does it. And, joining her ice cream, vegetables, and bag of apples, she leaves the box on top and follows Shiho to the checkout.

By the time she rounds the corner, the person before Shiho is paying.

Temari pauses, still not seen, and straightens her dress around her hips, brushes a stray hair back, and licks her lips.

She knows, she knows, she is being ridiculous. Foolish.

"Good evening, Shiho." She says, grin plastered on her face and shoulders pulled back.

The other girl turns and gives a noise of surprise. "I didn't see you there! Oh. Hi, Temari." She smiles in kind and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Shiho's groceries, laid out on the counter, consist of mostly greens and a surprising amount of cereal and instant ramen.

"Where are you off to?"

Shiho looks down at her food and then back at Temari. She is shorter, her shoulders slimmer. "Oh, uh… I'm cooking dinner for my niece. She's visiting."

Temari continues to smile, unsure what to say now that she's approached the woman. Why did she come over here in the first place? It isn't as though she really had finished buying all the things she'd set to buy and she was ready to check out. And it isn't as though she's defending any territory. Staking a claim or whatever. Shikamaru isn't hers to claim. No one ever is, in general, but especially not him. Not to her.

"That's sweet of you."

"And you? I didn't know you were in town."

Temari looks over her basket. "I'm only here for a few weeks. Nothing too interesting planned."

When she'd first come to the register, she'd had every intention of laying out everything from the basket, predominately the condoms, perhaps hoping to spite Shiho; as if to say, hello, yes, we have sex all the time! Like maybe it would demonstrate something to Shiho, something that would make her jealous of the relationship Temari has.

But now that she's here, she doesn't want to do that anymore. This is clearly Temari's own… insecurity, maybe. And so, she stacks the box of condoms behind the apples on the conveyor belt and tries not to draw attention to it.

Shiho smiles.

"How have you been?" Temari asks as the checkout man started to ring up Shiho's basket.

"Good, good." Shiho adjusts her glasses again. They're so thick, it's hard to see her eyes.

"And how is work? How is the cryptanalysis team these days?"

Shiho perks up at that, the words working as a switch. "Great!" She breathes. "Hokage-sama just approved our request to start a sub-unit to go through all the archives of letters intercepted from the First Shinobi War that were never deciphered!"

Temari frowns. "Is there any use to going through old letters?"

"Well, uh," she pulls out her wallet as the man rings her up. "No current use, which was why we kept being denied. But now that there isn't much work for us, we have time to look through everything. It'll be so much fun!"

Temari laughs, stepping forward as Shiho moves to gather her first bag.

"I'm glad this is so exciting for you guys."

Shiho blushes and looks down. After a moment, her gaze moves back to Temari, brows furrowed. "Shikamaru doesn't — Yurika and I both asked him for help, but he said he doesn't understand the point of going through old records like that unless we need to. I guess he has a point. I mean, it's not like other countries still use the old systems."

Temari shrugs. "They might again, who knows. If the cyphers were never broken, why wouldn't they come back?"

There is a pause as Shiho groceries are fully bagged and the cashier hands her her change.

"Frankly, it's not particularly likely. But you're right. It is possible." She smiles to herself and turns back to Temari. "Cryptanalysis was always the most interesting past-time for me." She looks back down. "So any opportunity is welcome."

Temari smiles. If she could offer up Shikamaru, she would.

No. No. Nevermind. She could offer up Shikamaru. Maybe not technically, but that's never stopped her before. She volunteers him all the time! At least once a week. She could easily say he'll help, easily promise him, or at least, she could promise to talk to him. But she doesn't. She keeps her mouth shut.

"It was good to see you." Temari does say, after a moment, as Shiho takes her bags. And then, "I'll tell Shikamaru you said hi."

Shiho blushes, her shoulders rising to her ears. "I, uh, yes. You too! Good to see you too!"

That's it, and then she is gone and Temari's few items are being run up and put in a bag.

She wants to slap herself.

What the fuck was that? Why did she say that? Was that a nice thing to say? After all, there is no question that Temari would be speaking with him… Shiho must know that…. Or was it better to let things lie? To not acknowledge the other's relationship to him at all?

Why is she being like this?

Temari sighs and watches, not paying attention as she goes through the motions of buying her groceries and then walking home down a mostly empty street. It's early evening on a Friday and, while many people are still out, there is a lull between work and going out for dinner or whatever the youth do these days (Shikamaru never wanted to go anywhere — she had no idea what most people her age did on their off-time) so there are only a few people about.

Here's the thing: Shiho is a good person. At least, as far as Temari knows. She'd only met her a few times and all except one, at a birthday party for Shikamaru, had been in passing. And that party was long before she and Shikamaru had gotten together, and Temari had spent a good hour or so in conversation with Shiho. And then she'd noticed Shikamaru's eyes on her (they had always been on her, didn't Shiho know?!) and Shiho's eyes on him. And they hadn't spoken much after that.

But from what she understands, from what she's seen, Shiho is kind and wickedly smart and is very compatible with Shikamaru platonically. They make good coworkers. And when he was in the cryptanalysis unit, he was happy. Even now, he is happy to be consulted by them, even if only on occasion. He likes work where he can go at his own pace, where the people around him also want to keep the human interaction down to a minimum.

Temari is nothing like that. It's nothing like their relationship. And in the end, it was nothing like Shikamaru. As far as she knows, from what she's seen, he may enjoy that type of work, but deep down, he needs more. He's led an army. He is never going to be satisfied behind a desk like that.

She turns the corner and there is no one on this street. Temari shifts the bag of groceries from one hand to the other.

She wishes she understood why she had done that. Why was her instinct to buy more condoms than she'll need? Honestly, she is only here for a week. There is absolutely no way they will go through all of these. Though, she supposes, they could be saved for whenever she makes her way back.

But that's not important. No. It's not about stupid household purchases. It's about why she wanted to do it, why she felt the need to buy them and gloat them in the first place.

She genuinely doesn't understand it. Not fully. She knows, objectively, that she has become softer since dating Shikamaru (he softens her, her brother once said). She knows she is more emotional. But she is still more rational than that! There is no excuse for whatever wayward and misplaced jealousy that whole thing was… that whole, consuming feeling was. It makes no sense. And feeling it is absolutely without merit.

After all, Shiho is just a woman. Surely there have been more people who've had crushes on him. It can't be helped. He is wonderful… mostly. And maybe, if (when) they do break up, eventually, he will find one of them.

When she arrives at his house, she finds the door unlocked. There are no lights on and the place is silent. Temari turns on the light in the entryway and, still holding the groceries in one hand, looks into the living room. Shikamaru had been at work this afternoon, but he'd said he would take off early so she expects him back by now. Still, she's surprised to actually find him asleep on the couch.

Temari huffs and walks around the couch to the front, staring down at him. He's on his back, legs up on the far arm and face serene. Behind her, on the coffee table, is a cup of tea. She touches the mug. Still warm. He hasn't been asleep long.

She leans down to nudge him back, pushing at his hip. Without opening his eyes, Shikamaru groans. He does move though, rolling onto his side and scooting to press the back of his body into the back of the couch, giving her more room.

Temari drops the bag of groceries on the coffee table and turns to take a seat in the middle of the cushions, her tailbone against his hips, letting him curl his body around her.

He is breathing slowly and she knows, if she stays still for only a minute, he'll fall back asleep.

She looks at him. He's always been so beautiful. She's always found him attractive. She hates, sometimes, that it took so long for her to actually tell him that. She hates all that time she wasted wanting him and doing nothing about it.

This is what Shiho wants. This is it. She wants to be sitting here, against him, being loved by him.

On the one hand, she wonders what is so special about him anyway? He's often a pain. But on the other, she wholly understands. He is everything.

It's been almost a minute since she sat down. She doesn't want him going back to sleep.

Temari reaches out and grabs his chin, turning his face to hers fully. She looks at him, looks at the lines of his features and the beard he's beginning to grow.

"You should shave."

Slowly, Shikamaru opens his eyes, blinking, trying to bring her into focus. "You don't like it?" He asks, voice gruff from rising from his nap.

Temari turns his face again, observing another angle and then lets go. She shrugs. "No." She says, but she does kind of like it. No use giving him compliments though.

Shikamaru closes his eyes, slowly, lids heavy, completely unaffected by her comment. He shifts, moving further up the couch, so his head rests closer to the armrest. His knees bend as the top of his thighs press against the side of hers, allowing his whole leg to fit on the cushions.

"I saw that girl you used to work with," Temari says, after a moment. She hadn't wanted to say anything, but it's on the tip of her tongue, as though waiting to be said. She recalls their meeting, and her ridiculous reactions, like a twinge in the back of her neck, right at the base of her skull. She's embarrassed about it.

"Hm?"

"From the Konoha Cryptanalysis Team."

Shikamaru makes a noise in his exhale and nuzzles his head into the cushions, eyes still closed. "Shiho? How is she?"

Temari stares at him. Why is she still doing this? Why is she pretending?

"She wants your help decoding some old cyphers. Or code. Whatever."

"I know."

They've obviously approached him. Shiho had said as much. And he'd turned them down. She wonders if Shiho is the one who spoke to him. Did she call? Send a letter? Stop by the Hokage's or by his house? Had Shiho ever been to this house? When they'd spoke, at his birthday party years ago, it was at his parents… so Shiho had been there. Had she been here? Had she sat on this couch? Temari, after all, doesn't live here. He must have people over when she is gone. She has people over all the time without him.

"She likes you, you know." There is a bitterness to her tone that even she can hear. "Has a crush on you."

Shikamaru, much to her chagrin, doesn't respond. He doesn't even move.

"She blushes when she talks about you."

Temari doesn't know why she wants the rise. She doesn't know what she wants him to say.

He opens his eyes now, brow furrowed. His body is warm where it is touching her.

"Temari," he says, and he leaves it hanging even though his tone implied there was more of the sentence to come.

"Yeah?"

He continues to stare at her, frowning, trying to figure something out. Then, after a long moment, he looks away. "Nothing." He says. "Nevermind."

She sighs and leans back, pressing what she can of her back against the couch, but she is limited in her comfort by his hips. He's right. He hadn't even said anything, but she feels it anyway.

Shikamaru has resettled, closing his eyes again. Temari tips her head back to look at the ceiling and drops her hand to the back of his neck, gently brushing her fingers to his skin, back and forth up the line of his neck. He makes a noise when she scratches him lightly, but otherwise stays silent. Maybe he falls back asleep.

Temari, though, is too caught up to wake him up again. She blinks up at the ceiling, taking in the wood panels and the stains on it.

What the fuck is wrong with her? Why on earth would she do this? Why is he turning her into this…this person? What is it about him that turns her into this?

She regrets everything about that interaction. She regrets all of it. She has never been this person. There is no need to feel threatened. There never will be. If they break up because of a third-party, that's on them, not on the interloper. And, while possible, she has no inkling that that potential third-party would ever be Shiho. Acting otherwise — considering otherwise —, being so cruel, even if only in her head — it is unacceptable. Why does she hate Shiho so much?

Shikamaru, apparently not asleep, reaches for her hand, pulling it away from his neck and using his grip to tug her down. Naturally, Temari adjusts, letting him pull her so that she is lying against him, back pressed to his chest, held by him.

It's easy, now, to relax into his grip, to be comforted by his touch, to let the parts of his body fall in against the parts of hers. She can feel his breath against the back of her neck, the beating of his heart against her spine, hand holding her sternum, fastening her tightly against him.

How lucky, she is, that he wants her too. How lucky, that she doesn't have Shiho's lot. How lucky. Because if he didn't want her, wouldn't she be in the same position? Would she not want him, still, as Shiho does? Wouldn't she also spend the days waiting for him to look her way, like Shiho seems to?

Because there's no reality, she admits, only for a moment and only to herself (she'll never say anything so naive to Shikamaru), in which she doesn't love him.

It's hours later when they wake up. They've slept through dinner and all the melted ice cream she'd bought, not well-sealed apparently, has ruined the box holding the condoms.

a/n: written, belatedly, for shikatema week.

More coming soon! Let me know what you think!