[action | written}

[dangerouswind]

[She knows she's late. Temari would forever blame the Malnosso for dropping her back in the forest somewhere and never her own reticence to walk back into town. (Like nothing had happened. Like nothing had ever happened.) She's only looking for one person when she comes back into the village, slipping in straight from the forest and making a beeline for community building one. She's making a concerted effort not to be seen, though that's a little harder once she's inside the building and walking quietly toward the door.

Not her door. Her next door neighbor's.

Temari hesitates only a moment before she knocks. (It's a light knock. Not that she can hear it.) Be home, Nara. She doesn't want to have to try this again.

It's some time later before she actually shows up on the journal. The message is written, short. She's doesn't filter it to anyone; she doesn't have the patience. She honestly doesn't want to say anything in the first place, but...

... well, that's unfair to a few people.]

I'm back.

Comments

[dangerouswind]

[Huh, she didn't even have to ask for the help. Not in so many words, at least. Good enough for her. Her voice is a little louder, as best as she can tell.]

Better?

[endgames]

[The hand flips around into a thumbs-up.]

Like that.

[dangerouswind]

Good enough. [She's careful, maybe too careful, with her voice. Tone is a little lost in her efforts to keep the volume where it should be.

... This will take some practice.]

[endgames]

[He picks up his journal from where he left it on the table.]

Keep doing that. Not talking because you can't hear is stupid. [There's blank pages towards the end of the book, and he rips them out. A whole large chunk without looking - he's still focused on her.] Watch me and try to understand. I'll write too.

[dangerouswind]

[She blinked at him, having caught on to what he intended to do about halfway through it all. Never mind she caught about every other word or so.]

I hope that you didn't just call me stupid.

[endgames]

I said "not talking" is stupid.

[He both speaks that and writes it down - shows that to her.]

[dangerouswind]

Not talking. [She repeats it as she glances at the writing. Well, then.

He had a point.] I'm talking.

[endgames]

Good. [He nods to that, but doesn't write it down. Only the nest part.]

...what else do I need to know?

[Well. Writes, minus the ellipsis.]

[dangerouswind]

[Temari watches him first, figuring out what she could before she turns to the paper. Ah, she wasn't so far off on that one.]

No. That's it.

[endgames]

It's not, and you know it.

[And he's writing so quickly now, his head is turned more towards the page to make sure his hand doesn't slip. There's a crease forming between his brow.]

You didn't believe we realized you'd died just because you didn't come back, did you?

[dangerouswind]

[Nara Shikamaru, do you know how frustrating it is to read lips when you're not looking at her? Lips thinned, she reaches out and taps a loose fist under his jaw.

Look up, Nara. She's trying to figure all this out.

Then his words hit her, as she looks at the paper.

Oh. Well. Busted. She had hoped, but knew better than to think no one would know.]

I wasn't sure. Why ask?

[endgames]

["Why ask?" Is she serious? He stares, searching her eyes for the answer with the pen held flat against the paper, between his hand.]

Because it's not like you to do something so foolish. [He doesn't look away.] It's not like you to make mistakes, but you did here. It cost you your life.

[And he will hold that gaze for as long as he can. Only then does he shift his chin out of her hand, and write down those words exactly.]

[dangerouswind]

[She holds his gaze for as long as he's looking at her. She picks up most of the words, immediately bristling at the reprimand.

Maybe it was foolish, but it was over and done with now. Could she have done differently? Yes, of course. Would she? Perhaps not.

Temari looks down at the words on paper, confirming what it is she thought he said.]

It's done. No sense dwelling on it.

[endgames]

[...it's like having his words parroted back to him, when before he was talking about Asuma. It's done. No sense in being sad about it, because you knew it happened and it changes nothing. Put on your big boy pants and move on.

He watches her hands. The slightest shifts in her knees. Blinks, and listens close for the sound of her breaths before slowly scrawling something else out.]

Even if it were here, you wouldn't say that if it were one of your brothers.

[dangerouswind]

[She's tense and still as she watches him write. There's a sudden indrawn breath and her hands tense, fingers curling just slightly.

Low blow, Nara.]

They aren't here. [Haven't been for some time. She doesn't want them in this conversation.]

[endgames]

Were they the ones you saw

[Again, written. He shows her the page before thinking to write the question mark.]

[dangerouswind]

[And now her hands do curl into fists.]

What's the point of this? [Her voice is losing that carefully controlled edge.]

[endgames]

I've had over a week to think about it and it doesn't make sense. You were wounded before

[Which is still so stupid, but he hands over that page before starting another.

Stupid woman. You should have asked for help.]

but what killed you was the wound to the chest.

even if you were tired and couldn't use wind you're a distance fighter and use that fan like a club

[He pushes that page toward her too, even though it's nowhere near full, already starting on the next one.]

[dangerouswind]

[She uncurls one fist to slowly take the pages. She gives thought to crumpling them up, destroying all trace of this conversation. She wants to punch him, hard, in the mouth.

She should get up and walk away.

But she instead sets the pages beside her and regards him with a thin-lipped gaze.]

I really wish you'd quit thinking for once in your life.

[endgames]

[He laughs, but it's mirthless. He mumbles something like "me too", and from herein mutters under his breath the things that he's writing.

Worth noting: his handwriting will continue to deteriorate, all punctuation and capitalization absent, and his thoughts only separated by new lines.]

You probably got overwhelmed - it happens to the best of them. But never from the front, with your arms open for it. You wouldn't let your guard down if you saw that shit coming. So how? And then-

[Thoughts cut off again, to shove the page at her.]

-they told me about the Shifters who could mess with your dreams. You suck at genjutsu. [There's a pause, and he stares blankly at the page. Sensing when she'd be almost done reading the other, he quickly writes again.] That's what it was, wasn't it? And it showed you your home. Suna. Maybe your family.

[Again, turning the page toward her.]

[dangerouswind]

[She takes the pages mechanically, not even bothering to try to read his lips at all. Some things, she doesn't want to try to guess at. His thought processes? Never one of those things.

That and she really, really doesn't want to have this conversation. Really.

Temari stares at the first page and wonders just when it was that he knew her so well. Probably from the first time he saw her fight. He shouldn't know this, shouldn't have been thinking about it, shouldn't throw it back in her face.

If the first page is hard to take, the second leaves her breathless. She reaches out and pulls the page away, shaking her head.]

Enough.

[endgames]

[He looks away from her, not wanting to hear it. He's felt some emotion he can't name more than he should have ever since learning of this woman's demise, and the way she tries to shove it off makes him so angry.

And it's only a drop in the water for how he feels on her behalf. He wants to sympathize with her and say he's sorry; let it go so she can take what time she needs to recover.

But he doesn't know if she can without having it thrown in her face, and it makes him sick to his stomach. One hand pulls at his hairline, but he's still trying to appear solid on the surface as his hand drops to write one more time.]

You didn't know you were dead until you were flat on your back.

[dangerouswind]

[Trust him to completely ignore that she'd really like him to stop talking any time now. Her hand is clenched into a tight fist and she honestly isn't aware of it.

Anger and shame and guilt -- guilt, damn it all, even that and how is it that one can feel guilty over their own death? -- cloud her perception. She knows he's hurting. Can't see it right now.]

I said that was enough. [The careful, deliberate control in her voice is slipping.]

[endgames]

It's not! [And he doesn't mean to snap, but she's still not getting it. The pencil breaks in his grip, and he's oblivious.] Passing it off like this is a slap in the face to everyone who cares about you! You were going through a lot and-- We could've helped--

[He can't finish; she probably only got half of that as it is. He goes to write but he doesn't know where the hell the top of that pencil rolled off to.]

[dangerouswind]

[She catches enough of it. She doesn't get it; he's right about that. What's done is done and she desperately wants to leave it behind her. Quit talking about it and move on. She died.

She died.

Isn't that enough?]

Helped? [She stands, in lieu of taking a swing at him. What did she expect, though? She knows the mistakes she made -- knows them intimately -- and she's learned.

She's figured it out, okay? Can't that be enough?]