dangerouswind

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[003]

[Temari's back.

She's not sure she wants to be. She's keeping to the trees as much as she can, before she finally decides she really needs to get into the town and figure out what in the hell is going on.

There's blood smeared across her cheek. Her hands are scraped raw. Her wings -- normally tucked away under her clothes -- are ragged and missing feathers here and there. There's a wild look in her eye.

And she doesn't really know where she is.

This might not end well. At least she doesn't have her fan on her.]

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[There's a dumb pause.] Mine?

[...because this could get awkward. >.>]

[...

...

...]

No, mine, you moron. Let go of my hand so I can look at it properly.

[Oh, so it is still you. He's glad to see you haven't been completely replaced by an alien.]

Tch. Troublesome.

[He considers her - she's calmer now. And the less time he spends on this jutsu, the better off he'll be.

He releases the jutsu, taking a step back to give her her space, and let her pick the journal up from off of the ground. If she tries attacking him again, he'll just make sure to pin her shadow with one of his trench knives first. Less effort for him.]

[She snags the journal from the ground and steps back herself, gaze going down to his shadow, just in case. Anything funny and she'd outta there.

Quietly, she flips through the book, one eye on the entries in it and one eye on him. After a moment, though, her gaze is on him entirely and her eyes are narrowed.

Troublesome, he said. She's heard that before. Sorta of. It's starting to feel like she has two lifetimes of memories stuck in her head and neither one of them makes any sense.]

Glaring at me isn't going to do much for either of us, you know. [He nods his head to the first aid kit.] You're not bleeding somewhere I can't see, are you?

Edited 2010-12-23 07:30 (UTC)

[Who knows? Maybe if she glares long enough, some things will snap into place. One can hope.

Her gaze travels to her scraped hands and she shakes her head. She was definitely bruised in other places, but she wasn't bleeding. She tucks the book -- her book, apparently -- under her arm and snags the first aid kit.]

What? Do I make you uncomfortable?

No. I'm a ninja; you're a ninja. [You get used to that stuff.] But I'd look like an asshole if I let you bleed to death or something. [/handwave. He's not worried. At all.

...shut up.]

Something tells me that you're an ass anyway.

[She's totally not fumbling with the first aid kid or the many little packages contained therein. Never. At all.]

And here I thought you didn't know me.

[Shikamaru watches her movements; her hands. He'd probably move in to help her if he didn't think she'd bite him if he tried.

He'll just have to be careful about it.]

Oi. Let me check the bandages. I'm not sure if there's enough in there for both of your hands.

You make an impression.

[Then, after a moment of careful consideration, she slides the first aid kit toward his feet. Like she's going to walk over and hand it to him.]

[He takes a seat on the ground, then checks through the bandages. He only needs to eye it once to tell there's enough, but he takes his time with it anyways.

Before sliding it back to her, he tears open the little packets she'll be needing, making it look like he's checking those too. He nods, then toes it over with his foot.] Lucky you. Looks like you're covered.

[She's not stupid, Nara Shikamaru. She sees what you're doing, oh master of stealth, you. She makes no comment though; only takes the kit again. After a moment, she sits too -- carefully and in such a way that she can be off and running at the slightest movement.

It's hard, dressing her hands, but she'll manage. Especially since those packets were torn for her.]

Lucky me. [Somehow, she doubts that.]

[He doesn't say much more, instead watching her out of the corner of his eye. If she wants his help, she'll ask for it. As it is, she's doing mostly all right on her own.

He recognizes she needs her space to think, anyways. Which suits him fine. He doesn't have it in him for small talk. Not today.]

[She takes care of her scraped hands in silence, content to simply work and keep an eye on this Konoha-nin that seems to have taken some sort of interest in her. Except... it almost should make sense because there were just some things about him that are familiar.

And this is just breaking her brain. Her poor, frazzled, suspicious, tired brain.

She closes the kit and slides it back over toward him. He hasn't killed her yet. Hasn't even been really threatening and he had her, more than once.]

You said I had an apartment here.

[She's going to need that space to think, damn it.]

Yup. [He nods his head back to the building.] On the fourth floor. You're the only one who lives there, besides me.

[...and Chouji.]

[She nods, then worries her lip for just a moment. There's a part of her that just has to know.]

I told you what I remember. [Some of it, anyway. A very bare-bones kind of story.] Return the favor.

All right. [He doesn't point out that she didn't tell him much. Even so, it was enough to go off on, he thinks.]

From the sound of it, you're remembering the events of the Chuunin Exam differently than I am. Or something happened before that even.

The way I remember things is that Sound was planning on invading Leaf, and Sand was working with them. The Fourth Kazekage was murdered by Orochimaru, which is probably half the reason your village had to go along with it, with him at the helm.

Gaara was supposed to be your guys' secret weapon, but that didn't go to plan. Naruto beat him, and the Third Hokage dealt a serious blow to Orochimaru that forced Sound to pull out.

Next time we heard from them, Suna had gone their separate ways and allied themselves with Konoha.

[Temari nods once. It's different. So very different.] Sound turned on us. There's nothing left of Sand. Gaara... [is a monster.]

Be glad he's not here.

[And subject dropped. Temari turns her attention to the journal embossed with her name. She's still glancing at Shikamaru. For a moment, she's silent but then she just can't help but ask. The question is abrupt.]

How do I know you? [Why are you, of all people, somehow familiar, Konoha?]

[She tilts his head when she mentions Gaara. He suspected as much. That's... a shame. He knows how much Temari's come to value her brothers - both of them.

He wonders if Gaara still became the Kazekage in her version of events, but decides not to ask.]

You have a habit of showing up in my life, whether I want you to or not. First time I met you, we had a match in the finals of the Chuunin Exams. After the invasion, you guys went back to Suna and we didn't hear from you until Sound made a move again. I was leading a team against the Sound Five, and just when things were going to hell you and your brothers showed up as our back-up. You saved our asses.

[He rubs at his neck. Temari even went with him to the hospital; sat there while they waited to see what would happen to Chouji and Neji. Shikamaru still has no idea why she bothered, but it's not like she'd remember now. Or that he would ask.]

...Anyways. I saw you more here and there over the years. After you became ambassador, you had to come to Konoha more often. I was usually assigned as your guide. On top of that, I was an examiner in the chunnin exams twice, so I had to work with you then too.

[He snorts.] How troublesome. You probably see more of me than you do the Hokage.

[She stares at him, unbelieving. Ambassador is a far cry from what she currently was. It takes her a moment to answer and, when she does, she manages to skirt the issue entirely. Less thinking it all over that way.]

So I still kick and save ass, even in your weird reality. Good to know.

Yup. You've come a long way. [He picks up the first aid kit.] So. You coming with me to get your fan, or am I hauling it back to you?

[Make no mistake, Shikamaru. She's still tense as all hell. Suspicious. Not sure what to make of anything. But she wants her fan.

She stands up, bandaged hands brushing dirt off her legs.]

It's too heavy for a weakling like you to carry.

[...shut up.] Who said anything about carrying. I'd drag it.

[MOVING IT, is the important part. Duh.

He sticks his hands in his pockets as he stands, then walks toward the building.]

[She falls in behind him, several steps back and keeping an ever-watchful eye on as much as she can see. It'll be good to get inside, she thinks, and if she can hole up somewhere with her fan, so much the better.]

No one drags my fan around.

I think the floor would have more to worry about than your fan. Thing's made out of iron, isn't it?

[He holds the door open, and when she comes in she can probably see the stairwell off to the left.]

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