'She could taste iron in her mouth but didnât know if it was Inoichiâs blood or her own. Her nose ached from the impact. It was not hard enough to have broken the nose, but she wasnât sure she had sensation in it either.
âI knew this boy personally,â Inoichi said. âAs did my daughter. He would never have.â
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Temari growing up in a, more or less, sheltered environment, while Shika has to struggle with neglect and emotional abuse.
How would those two evolve and how would they find their way to each other.
Oooh, fear not, dear friend, you needn't wish me to write a fic where Temari's and Shikamaru's roles are reversed, because that fic already exists!!
That is A Shadow Facing South!
In that story, Temari has grown up with her entire family alive (including Karura, Rasa and Yashamaru, and a few cousins!) and Sunagakure is a matriarchy, which means Karura is the Kazekage and Temari is the heir with all the privileges.
A lot of young hero tropes (inspired among others by Treasure Planet and Prince of Egypt) are written into her character and a silly and boisterous woman hatched out of this fun version of Temari.
Without spoilering too much of the story - Shikamaru's teenhood wasn't happy and he was emotionally abused mainly by his father.
In the story he is married off to Temari under weird circumstances and moves to Suna to live with her, and Temari, who actually has another partner at that moment, learns to love that quiet man and she falls very quickly.
Temari, privileged in her society as she is, struggles to understand Shikamaru at first, since she is used to being loved in a certain way and now has to accept a new way of being loved by him.
I didn't even notice it before a reader pointed out how I've written Temari think about Shikamaru the way a lot of writers write him think about her (like driving the other one mad, etc). Many typical ShikaTema tropes (or F/M tropes in general) are turned upside down.
It's been great fun to write and come up with this new Narutoverse and especially this new version of Suna and the Sand Family đĄď¸đ (those who knows what those emojis means, you know!)
Thank you for giving me a reason to natter on about my fic!! đ
"sharing a kiss while dancing >>>" WE NEED đđđ
Ahh what a perfect request đĽ°
For those of you who have read PliĂŠ-sed to Have Met You, this little teaser takes place within that same universe. It's a scene that I plan to include in my soon(ish) to come Shikajin part 2 of this dance AU. It is not necessary however to read PliĂŠ to understand the below. And so, without further ado...
Sway
âWhen we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with meâ
Dean Martin
Full story below the cut â¨
âHey, Inojin?â
He looked up from removing his shoes, expecting to meet Shikadaiâs gaze and instead was met with the back of his boyfriendâs head. Inojin made a small noise to indicate he was listening, waiting for Shikadai to continue as he kepy fiddling with his laces.
âWould you be interested in teaching me some dance steps? I mean, nothing too crazy. You know, just the basics orââ
Inojin nearly catapulted himself up off the ground and grabbed Shikadai by the arms. Those were words he never expected to come out of his boyfriendâs mouth.
âYou want to dance?â
Even though they happened to be standing under one of the ceiling lamps in the studio where the bulbs had blown out, Inojin could still make out the blush on Shikadaiâs cheeks as he gave a shy nod in response.
âOh my god, really?! Really? I canât believe it, oh my god, of course, sweetie! That makes me so happy.â
He watched as the initial shock on Shikadaiâs face from the excited outburst morphed into a smile. But not just any smile. This was a special smile. A smile that made Inojinâs heart flutter more than even the worst bout of stage fright.
It was that smile where his eyes became alight with love. That smile that revealed Shikadai was exactly where he wanted to be and there was nothing else heâd rather be doing. That smile only few people ever got the pleasure of being on the receiving end of.
Inojin still couldnât believe that he was so lucky to see that smile every day.
He kicked his shoes off fully as he grabbed Shikadaiâs hand and dragged him over to a part of the room where the overhead lights did work and they could see each other clearly.Â
Inojin decided to start their lesson with the class step ball change. He chose it not only because it is one of the most basic moves in all styles of dance, but he assumed Shikadai would have an easy time with it. Itâs one of those steps where the name of the move tells you how to perform it: you step with one leg, then switch your weight to the ball of your opposite foot, and then back. Inojin thought it would appeal to his boyfriendâs overly logical brain and come naturally to him. All he had to do was follow along with the words.
Apparently though, Inojin thought wrong.
For ten minutes now, he watched as Shikadai continuously tripped over his own feet. He just couldnât seem to comprehend he had to change the balls of his feet and not keep one plastered to the ground. Inojin offered several times to teach him a different step, but Shikadai refused. He was trying so hard to get it right, Inojin could see beads of sweat drip down his forehead and land on the lens of his glasses.
Shikadai seemed determined to get this step down no matter what, and Inojin was wracking his brain to come up with a way to help him. He started to think back to moments with his parents. Back to a time when he was small and he was first learning these steps himself. The memories prompted him to try a different tactic than having Shikadai just watch and attempt to copy his feet.
Inojin walked over to where Shikadai was fumbling around and wrapped his arm around his boyfriendâs waist. He pulled him in tight so that Shikadaiâs backside was flush with his whole body. He could feel Shikadai stiffen at the sudden contact, so Inojin placed a reassuring kiss onto the back of his neck.
âDonât fight against me, okay? Just relax and let my body guide yours.â
Inojin started to move, lifting his right foot fully off the ground. The top of his thigh pressed into the back of Shikadaiâs, effectively raising the other manâs leg with it. Inojin then placed both of their feet back onto the floor and repeated the movement on their left but at a much quicker pace. Then again with the right as that same faster speed.
He continued the slow-quick-quick pattern over and over. With each step Inojin took, Shikadaiâs legs did the same, being led by the gentle nudging. Inojin could feel the rhythm start to flow through Shikadai as he became more accustomed to the movements through this hands-on approach.
Just like a child learns to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time, Inojin slowly loosened his grip from Shikadaiâs waist and let the other man try on his own. He couldnât help but grin with pride as Shikadai continued to step ball change all by himself.Â
It was a different kind of pride than what heâd experienced with the students he taught in class. Inojin imagined it was similar to how his parents had felt every time they watched him first master a new step.
This wasnât a sense of pride fueled by pure accomplishment, no. This was a pride synonymous with love.
âWell, now that youâve mastered that, letâs try something else.â
Inojin chuckled when Shikadai jumped at the sound of his voice. He gave Inojin a puzzled look as if asking how they were now on opposite sides of the room. Shikadai had seemingly gotten so caught up in the dance, he hadnât noticed he was no longer being held.
Inojin walked back over to his partner, making sure to flash one of his signature cheeky winks. He then grabbed Shikadaiâs arms, placed them around his neck, and put his own hands on Shikadaiâs waist. He once again felt his boyfriendâs body tense up with shyness, so Inojin pulled him in closer and rested his chin upon Shikadaiâs shoulder.
âDonât be nervous. I got you. Weâll take it nice and slow.â
Inojin started to move again. This time, his feet barely lifted off the ground as he gently rocked the pair right and left. He then rubbed encouraging circles into Shikadaiâs sides, silently asking him to follow along. Inojin could feel the other manâs body melt into his own, allowing Inojin to lead them in the slow dance.Â
Inojin had danced with many partners over the years. Girls heâd had to lift over his head and hold their waist as they spun around. Guys heâd had to dive over and swoop under as they moved across the floor.
But this. This wasnât anything like that.Â
There was no choreography to ensure they didnât step on each otherâs toes. There had been no practicing for hours on end to make sure the timing was right for a big lift. There was no set rhythm of 1-2-3 over and over again to the tune of music.
No this. This required no plans. No counts. No steps. No marks to hit. This was the most basic of dances and the most natural. The most comforting. The most freeing. The most pure.Â
This was simply two people. Sharing their space, breathing as one, swaying side to side, and just existing.Â
Inojin nuzzled further into the crook of his boyfriendâs neck, enjoying the ever-present scent of sand and heat. Even though it had been a few months since Shikadai had gone home for winter break, the smell of the desert never left his skin. It was so foreign to Inojin who had grown up in the concrete laden labyrinth that is New York City. He could live without the stench of sweaty subways and steamy sewer grates. But the aroma that was pure Shikadai? He couldnât get enough of it.
Now that he had calmed down from the earlier excitement at Shikadaiâs request, Inojin decided it was time to ask the question that had been on his mind since then.
âSo, why the interest in dancing all of a sudden?â
He felt the blush from Shikadaiâs cheek warm his skin.Â
âWell, itâs such a big part of who you are. A part that I donât know yet.â
Inojin rearranged them slightly so he could look at Shikadaiâs face. He could feel that same excitement from before eager to resurface. It was taking all of Inojinâs patience to let Shikadai finish without interrupting him again.
âI want to know as much as I can about every part of you. Even the parts that I donât really understand.â
The flush on his face was still present as Shikadai turned his gaze to the ground. Inojinâs eyes watched as the movement caused his glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose. Shikadai unconsciously wrinkled his nostrils as if trying to inch the frames back up to the top.Â
God, his boyfriend was so cute. Inojin couldnât stand it.
âI just. I really appreciate the part you play in my own life. And I wanted to thank you for that. So, I donât know, I just thoughtââ
Thatâs it. He couldnât hold himself back anymore. His patience had run out.
Inojin snatched Shikadaiâs hand and raised it above both their heads. He spun the other man around, twirling him like the ballerina inside his music box, before grabbing Shikadai around the waist and dipping him back across his arm. He then bent down to place the biggest, sloppiest kiss on his boyfriendâs lips.
Inojin put every single part of himself into the kiss so that Shikadai would know all of it. That he too appreciated the role the other man played in his life. That he was beyond grateful for the journey they had taken together to get to here.
He imagined right now they looked very similar to that famous photograph of the sailor kissing a complete stranger in the middle of Times Square. Inojin had seen so many tourists reenact that pose over the years. And though Times Square was a part of Manhattan that every native New Yorker tried to avoid at all costs, Inojin couldnât deny that he had secretly wanted to join in the fun too and copy it with a partner.
But right now, taking a photo was the farthest thing from his mind. In this moment, Inojin felt so special, so cared for, so loved by the man in his arms. It was a feeling that spoke more words than any picture ever could.
And so, even though it went without saying, Inojin just couldnât help himself.
âI love you too, Shikadai. So very, very much.â
Inojin in return received the biggest grin he had ever seen. Shikadaiâs smile was so wide that his cheeks pressed into the bottom rim of his glasses. He then proceeded to right himself up and engulf Inojin in a hug so tight only an Akimichi could rival it.Â
He had expected Shikadai to let go after a while, so Inojin was surprised when instead the other man brought them even closer together and began to rock them side to side. He had apparently decided to take the lead, and now Shikadai was the one to guide them in the slow dance.
Inojin tried to think of a time in all his years of competing and performing where he had loved dancing more than this moment right here. But none even came close.Â
This was special because it wasnât about how high he could jump or how many turns he could do in a row. There was no music, no counting. It was just about them and the air that swayed with them as they floated through it.Â
They danced without outside pressure. They danced without clear cut rules. They danced without thinking about.
When I am Gorgeous by Majsasaurus-M, friendship, angst, family, 58614, multi-chapter, complete
"You donât realise that you are insane.â
During a time when societal norms are strict and unforgiving, being a difficult woman is frowned upon. Women who can't keep up with the norm must be hidden away, and Temari gets to know that firsthand when she is placed against her will in a women-only asylum to keep the family name clean.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/10
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Characters: Temari (Naruto), Nara Shikamaru, Akimichi Chouji, Other Character Tags to Be Added
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - World War II, Character Death, War, Blood and Injury, Historical Accuracy, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Just two soldiers slowly falling in love with each other, Temari-centric
Summary:
While boys and men were collected and sent to the front, the women stayed in the cities; kept the country afloat, factories alive, and made sure there was a country to come back to, whenever the war is over.
But not all women stayed in the cities.
Not in this story, in which Rasa sends Temari to war.
--
I highly recommend reading this story. The first chapter already hurt me đđ
âDo you know why we most often wear our nationâs banner on our foreheads?â Temari asked Shikamaru. He looked at her, shrugged, before casting his gaze at the knife in Temariâs hand. It was almost enchanting, the blade, with the rainbow colours and infinitely sharp edges.
âFor fashion reasons? Protection?â He smiled to her. This was teasing. Flirting. She knew he knew what the answer would be.
Temari snorted and carelessly almost blinded herself by the rainbow light coming from the sharp blade.
âTo hide our marriage status,â she said, blinking rapidly out of pain in her eyes. Shikamaru nodded slowly.
A Shadow Facing South on ao3 by @unioncolours (majsasaurus)