Crack in the Window

Temari was not by any means a sociable person, and as a woman who didn’t care much for social events, she distinctly hated parties of any kind.

She hated that she had to dress up for them. She hated that she had to ‘mingle’ at them. And she most definitely hated that she was expected to dance in public at them. It’s not that she was a bad dancer, she just felt that doing something like that in public was putting out a very private very personal action for everyone to gawk at. Besides, why would you bother doing something so private with a stranger? She might as well have sex with a stranger in public.

Temari blanched at the mere thought.

Of course, her father and brother Kankurou disagreed with her whole-heartedly. Temari followed after her brother into the accursed room inwardly calling her father every swear word she’d ever learned. And she knew quite a few.

Kankurou immediately departed her side without a word making a beeline towards a thin blond thing on the dance floor.

Deeply aggravated, Temari took one look at the room, hoping that there was perhaps someone she knew.

No such luck.

The music was pounding, resonating through the room loudly and the conversation of the party-goers overlapped into one loud buzz. Temari crossed her arms over her chest and let out an aggravated sigh.

Her father had forced her to attend, going as far as to literally shove her out the door. Temari leant against eh wall watching the people grind on the dance floor. She grimaced. A deep sense of awkwardness filled her and Temari wanted nothing more than to leave.

Unfortunately, Kankurou had driven.

There were a few problems with that.

1. Kankurou had the keys.
2. Even though she knew how to hotwire a car, Kankurou drove a stick. She only knew how to drive an automatic.
3. It was too far to walk home.
4. She was horrible with directions, she’d probably get lost

She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

This was going to be a loong night.

-

Thirty minutes later, Temari was even more aggravated then she’d originally been. Guys kept coming over to her and asking her to dance. (It was about five now if she had counted correctly). Temari did not dance in public. She told them so, but the boys just gave cheeky, self-righteous grins and continued to bother her. As if a few badly phrased words would change her mind. Temari would’ve punched them, but she was already in serious trouble for fighting in school. Her father might disown her if she started a riot at a party.

So, rather, she chose to ignore that desire and insult them instead.

It’s not as if she looked the least bit special anyway, she was sure that she just looked bitchy.

Temari pushed herself off the wall and slipped through the door. The cold night air hit her quickly, awakening her. She idly kicked a smooth pebble at her foot. It skittered across the pavement bouncing off the gravel. She growled as her hair flicked in her face and once more Temari found herself wishing she was somewhere else. The resonating pounding of the music seemed to leak through the walls and follow her outside. She massaged her temples; she just hated this type of music. Temari kicked another pebble forcefully and watched as the smooth rock flew through the air straight at a car window. The pebble crakced through the glass and feel inside the vehicle.

“Oh, crap.” Temari breathed.

A heavy sigh sounded out behind her. “Troublesome, woman; that was my car.”

Heat rushed to her face. The man behind her was pretty tall, had thin eyebrows, a defined chin, piercing yet oddly lazy eyes, and dark brown hair falling down around his shoulders.

He had pretty long hair for a boy.

(But then, there had been that one guy with hair almost down to his ass, so maybe long hair on males a popular trend in this village.)

“It’s not my fault your windows are junk.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Who told you to kick a rock at my window?”

“It was a pebble.” She defended. “And if your window would break because of that, then you deserved it.”

The brunette rolled his eyes at her.

Temari scowled. Wasn’t he even going to demand she pay for it? She had broken it after all. Not that she would agree to pay for the damn thing, it was his fault for having such a shoddy car. But she was irritated enough to want a decent arguement.

Instead, the boy just fished some keys out of his pocket and headed to his car.

“Aren’t you even going to give me some crap on how I should pay for it?”

“Too troublesome.” He made his way to the driver’s side and opened the door, then slid in.

“Hell,” She called out, more interested than anything else, “aren’t you even going to pick up the broken glass shards that fell on the passenger side?”

“Too troublesome.”

Temari scrambled up and headed to his car. She leant against the passenger side of the car, her arms on the hood of the car, eyes peering through the hole she’d made in the window. “You’re leaving just like that?”

“I’m trying.” He looked pointedly at her. “What? Is there something else you’d like to break before I go?”

Temari scowled. “If I broke the other window it would match. Although maybe I should crack your head instead.” This guy was getting cheeky.

“Woman, as if you could.”

She bristled. “Is that a challenge?”

He stared at her impassively before closing his open door.

Oh, it was most definitely a challenge. Temari bent down and picked up a smooth pebble from the gravel. Aiming carefully she threw the pebble forcefully through the hole she’d just made right at the other window. Sure enough, the pebble went straight through, making a matching hole.

The boy looked silently at the second crack for a minute, then turned his gaze on her. HIs eyes were shocked, but there was most definitely a smile in them as well.

The lanky man watched her carefully. He leaned over the seat and unlocked the passenger door. “You can come if you want.”

Temari blinked.

That was not the reaction she was expecting.

Hell she’d just broken his other window and he invited her to come with him? What was he: nuts?

“Excuse me?” She asked.

“You hate this party. You can come if you want.”

She frowned. “Where exactly are you going?”

He shrugged, “Wherever you want to go; I had no specific place in mind.”

Temari once more placed her hands on the hood and outstretched them. She looked down between her hands through the window at the peculiar man. “I don’t even know you.”

“Shikamaru.”

“I just broke both your windows.”

“I know. They are my windows, after all.”

“And you’re inviting me to-to-to do stuff?”

He smiled, “You’re interesting.” He paused. “Besides, I’ve never seen a girl turn down Sasuke for anything before.”

Temari frowned. “Which idiot was Sasuke?”

“Dark hair. Dark eyes. Broody.”

“Oh!” That one had been good-looking, but also damnably annoying. The better looking ones always tended to be. “Which one is his car?”

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, but pointed at a sleek new looking blue car.

Temari hesitated. “Does he have an alarm?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

Good. She bent down and collected a handful of pebbles. Not bothering to aim at anything in specific, she just threw the lot of them at the shiny car. Temari felt deeply satisfied as his window gained five new pretty holes.

When she looked back at Shikamaru, she saw him smiling.

“What?” She defended, wrenching open the door to his car. Temari brushed aside the sharp glass shards from the leather seat onto the gravel below. “The moron pissed me off. You don’t piss me off in a palce I don’t want to be at.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m Temari by the way.”

Shikamaru started the car. “You sound like you hate all kinds of parties.”

“I do.”

“Then why are you here?”

“The collective influence of my father and one of my brothers.”

“Most women like dancing.”

“Yes, well unlike most women, I don’t want to squirm and wiggle where everyone can see me. That’s a private thing.” She explained indignantly.

“You’re odd.”

Why, thank you.” Temari pushed the buttons on his radio. The fizzy noise was starting to annoy her. “What’s up with your radio?”

Shikamaru pulled out of the parking lot. “It doesn’t work.”

Temari growled. “See, your crap sucks.”

“Good to know.”

“This isn’t a date by the way.” Temari clarified.

“Okay,” Shikamaru said with a smile.

Temari scowled. “Why are you smiling?”

“Woman, you just broke my windows: one on accident and one because I said you wouldn’t. Plus, you broke Sasuke’s windows. You insulted me, refused to apologize, and look like nothing but trouble. Why would I even consider dating someone as scary as you?”

Temari pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and stretched it out. Without even bothering to ask permission she slipped it inside the radio box and started fiddling with the mechanisms inside.

“Woman, what’re you doing?” Shikamaru asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

She pressed the bobby pin firmly into the familiar spot and kept pushing until she hear the customary clicking noise. Temari grinned happily as music suddenly sounded out perfectly clear. “Fixing your stereo.” Temari fiddled with the knobs to find a good station.

Shikamaru looked at her in confusion. “How did you do that?”

“I have a knack with fixing electronics. Breaking them too.” She explained. Temari smiled contentedly as she found her favorite station. “Oh, and you’d want to date me because I’m fucking fantastic.” She grinned widely at him, “I’m irresistible.”

Shikamaru stared at her blankly almost as if he really believed her. “I knew coming to this party would be a mistake.” She hear him grumble under his breath.

“Let’s get ice cream.” Temari decided happily.

He shrugged. “Alright, but since this isn’t a date, you’re paying for your own.”

Temari snickered. “If you play your cards right maybe I’ll let you take me out on a real date.”

“Oh, joy.” He muttered sarcastically. Or maybe not-so sarcastically, Temari wasn’t all that sure.

Yeah, Temari hated parties; apparently though, some interesting people did occasionally happen to attend.

Peices of Broken Glass

Summary: Glass. Glass. Glass. Everything she saw and touched was glass. Feeling in such a world was dangerous, and she knew. She knew well… Thousands of unshed tears. Because Temari cares so much more than she lets on.
Time:  Set around when Temari is back in Suna and Sakura heals Kankurou from Sasori’s poison.
Genre: Family, angst, hurt/comfort
People: Temari, Kankurou, mentions of Gaara

———————————————————

Humans were fragile peices of glass from the very beginning.Fragile.Easily broken.She closed her eyes slowly and let her body sag against the wall.Don’t feel.It was a fact of life.Especially for the shinobi.They would all inevitably shatter.

Sooner rather than later.

Don’t feel.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes slowly slid open and looked ahead of her.

Don’t feel.

She hated begin a shinobi at times like these.

The uncertainty.

The fear.

The anger.

The strong, pulsing desire to scream, yell — to cry.

It was a hard thing: to remember not to feel.

But nowhere near as hard as the alternative: letting yourself feel.

Straightening, Temari stared calmly at the door, differing from the whirlwind tossing inside of her. The words — the actions dying to scream, to cry — to feel.

It was hard for some people to just look at Temari. Shinobi’s weren’t supposed to feel, but every one of them did, and that weakness, destroyed them. That weakness allowed the grace of feeling better, but it clouded judgment. Temari had perfected the art of appearing completely apathetic at times like this. She was the picture of peaceful composure, while inside she was breaking.

Humans WERE glass, and she was no exception.

What she refused to do was show her cracks, she hid those.

And because of that, people had trouble believing Sabakuno Temari was actually human.

She didn’t feel.

Except she did.

And every time something like this happened, she had to remind herself that she wasn’t allowed to feel.

And this happened all too often.

That, she supposed was the problem with having brothers like hers.

One who always played with poison.

One who harbored a demon.

Two who were so near to dying too many times for comfort.

You would figure it got easier as the time passed, but just got harder. Especially when each experience brought them even closer to death.

She turned the cool knob and walked into the room.

Her brother lay in the bed staring up at the ceiling, his face devoid of purple paint, eyes blank.

At least she knew one of them was still alive.

Her hands clenched involuntarily.

One.

He glanced at her. “Hey.”

Her mouth felt sticky, her tongue had trouble moving around to form words. “Hey.”

“Came close didn’t I?”

Temari’s eyes slid closed instinctively as she felt the warm prickling behind her eyes. “Yeah.”

Temari hadn’t cried since the old Kazekage had smacked her to the floor and told her she was a worthless child and even worse ninja. Her arm had been broken in three places. It took her forever to recuperate. She was a child then, and she hadn’t let herself cry ever since then.

Don’t feel.

“Guess I was just lucky, hmm?”

“You always are, Kankurou.” She opened her eyes slowly.

The boy before her no longer looked the same.

He was younger.

Chubbier.

No scars.

No paint.

No muscles.

With small blank eyes and a soft warm smile. Peanut butter stuck between his fingers and hair. His clothes covered in dirt. His nose smudged.

Small puppet plays.

Learning to cook.

Her vision cleared.

The older Kankurou staring back at her once more. He was saying something. Temari moved over to the bed and sat gingerly at the foot of it, nodding at the words Kankurou was saying but not hearing a single thing.

Don’t feel.

She remembered the little kid who would help her make sandwiches in the kitchen.

And dirty the whole thing too.

The little kid who told her she could be a great ninja — no matter what the Kazekage said.

The little kid who would throw food at her claiming to be protecting her from invisible fairies.

The boy who would always cheer her up in her grouchiest moods.

The boy who knew her so well it scared her.

The boy who would cover her with blankets and bring her a charred attempt at soup when she was sick.

The boy who would sit with her in silence when she needed company.

The boy who understood why she never let the tears fall.
The boy who told her it wasn’t bad to feel.

Her little brother.

“Hey, are you even listening?” he inquired.

The tears burned behind her eyes.

“Oi! Temari!”

She wrapped her arms silently around her little brother, “Kami, you are so stupid!”

She could feel Kankurou smile. “Sorry about that, but one of has to be an idiot. Kami knows you won’t be it.”

Temari laughed, a cross between a sob and a chuckle. “Baka.””Hey, no worries, Tem, I’m okay.”

You’re okay.

He was okay.

But…Gaara.

He might not be.

She pulled back and looked at the hands in her lap.

It was so hard.

It got harder every time.

They were glass and by sheer luck, by scientific anomaly, she, Kankurou, and Gaara were still whole. They were scratched, they were dinged, a little dirty, but they were still whole. Throughout all the shit, they were still whole.

It wouldn’t…

It wouldn’t be fair if…after all that, AFTER ALL THAT, one of them could break.

Gaara was just as much glass as anyone else; she was sure he could break quite easily.

She just didn’t want him to.

It was a fool’s decision to care at all.

To care was to feel.

Pretending got harder every time.

“He’ll be fine, Tem.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can hope.”

Hope.

“We’ve been through worse shit haven’t we? Have a little faith.”

Temari sighed. “Faith?”

“Yeah.” Kankurou smiled. “C’mon. I’m the idiot. You’re the bitch. Gaara’s the inhuman demon thing. If ANY of us was going to die, it would be the idiot first.”

Another half laugh, half sob escaped her throat. “I hate you.”

Don’t feel.

He grinned. “I love you too, Temari.”

The unfortunate thing was she was human. Wholly completely and one hundred percent human. There was no way that she could possibly not feel. She was glass after all.

Worry and fear would always keep crowding her mind.

For the little boys.

The little boys she HATED and loved with all her might.

The boys she wanted to kill and protect.

Her only family.

Humans were glass, and they would refuse to be anything else, even after all that was left was shambles.

Even when all that remained, was pieces of broken glass.

Feeling was worth it all.