Naruto Oneshots + Imagines

Perfume (Shikamaru Nara x Temari)

Shikamaru doesn't consider himself a morning person, waking up a few hours before sunrise has been his solace today. The man looks over at Temari for what must be the hundredth time that day. The blonde rests on her side with her hair down and lashes fluttering against her cheeks, mauve lips parted and small, peaceful breaths falling from in between them. He smiles at the sight, debates on reaching down to move her hair out of her face, and decides against it before opening the flap at the front of the tent to look outside.

He can tell that the sun is about to rise. He's supposed to wake her up, but she was especially tired yesterday, so he lets her have a few more minutes of sleep as he quietly shuffles through their rations for the last thermal cup full of coffee for them to share. It's cold by now, as it's been sitting there since they left yesterday, but it's better than nothing considering they've been having to take turns watching so the other can sleep at every stop to prevent any enemy ambushes.

Tsunade and Gaara have them traveling together to multiple villages to deliver news and make preparations before The Fourth Shinobi War truly starts. It's the most Shikamaru has been around Temari for months, and while he's thankful for the opportunity to be with her for another day or two, he's also terrified on the inside.

The tensions between the Akatsuki and the Allied Shinobi Forces are at an all time high and the Akatsuki (or, what's left of them) will come for Naruto and Killer Bee soon- not only that, but there's not much he can do, as he's a small piece on the proverbial shogi board in this international conflict. Really, he knows that it's up to the Kages and the two Jinchurikis that remain to solve this and for him and the others to do as they command to solve the conflict.

Shikamaru isn't optimistic.

He could die, his parents could die, Choji could die, Ino could die, Naruto could die, Mirai could die, Kurenai could die, Temari could die. One or some or all of them could die and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it; like Asuma all over again. He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts- no matter how much he overthinks or conjures up strategy after strategy, realistically, he can't do anything aside from listen to what he's been told for now.

A groan falls from between his lips so loud that it startles Temari awake.

"What's wrong?" She asks, able to see right through him.

"Nothing," It's quick- too quick- and he can tell by the look on her face that she doesn't believe him. A blush takes over his face from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and thankfully, it's mostly hidden by the darkness of the early morning and hidden even more so when he turns his head to avoid Temari's prying gaze. "I'm just tired. Didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Right," She muses, unbelieving.

His gaze flickers over to her just fast enough to see the way she rolls her emerald eyes at him. Luckily, she doesn't bother saying anything else- they both already know he lied to her. As Temari reaches over and takes the cup of coffee from him to drink, Shikamaru curses himself for being so in love with her. They could both die any day now, and he's sitting there thinking about what it would feel like to hold her in his arms, take her on a proper date, wake up by her side every morning. He knows she feels the same, it's obvious in how flustered she gets around him, and he's not stupid. She probably knows about his feelings, too. It just so happens that every time he gathers the courage to tell her how he feels, something comes up; their promotions, more responsibility, The Akatsuki, Gaara's kidnapping and death paired with Kankuro's injuries, and now, the war.

After drinking most of the coffee and leaving Shikamaru with the remaining one or two drinks, Temari gets up and starts getting ready for the day, unabashedly getting undressed from her pajamas and changing right in front of him. Shikamaru has the decency to look away and only looks back when he hears the familiar sound of her packing everything up and finishing her morning routine; bags being zipped up, a couple spritzes of her perfume that permeate the tent, rubber bands snapping into place to keep her hair tied back.