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[dangerouswind]

[Community building one. Fourth floor. Early evening. A door slams.

Once. Twice. Three times, each time with a little more force. Finally, a thud and wood cracking; she's punched a wall. There's a crash inside one of the apartments - ceramic against a wall, then falling to the floor. Temari leaves the apartment, leaves the door open, and stalks away.

She's going for a walk.

Just inside her apartment door, a plant lies neglected in a pile of dirt and shattered ceramic.

She spends some time just outside the village, using a tree as a sparring partner. She, at least, has enough sense to not actually connect with the rough bark, but it makes a good enough target to throw a few punches toward. She wants nothing more than to beat something - someone - to a damned pulp, but what is she going to do but live with it?

It's later - hours later - that she makes her way to the Memory Garden. There, physically weary and emotionally strung out, she sits in front of the plants she's tended for so long. Wildflowers are ringed by bright, fiery desert blooms; in front of the small plot is a stone etched with kanji. Beside the stone, she sets one glass bead: a reminder of Kankurou's (second) time in Luceti. The bead will be blown away by the wind, lost to the elements eventually. She knows it; still leaves it there.

That night, she'll go home. Clean up her mess. Start living life again.]

Comments

[endgames]

Just walked around until I found you, is more like it.

[dangerouswind]

[She hums a bit, acknowledging that and almost smiling - almost - at the fact that he sought her out.]

I wasn't exactly hiding.

[endgames]

No. But you were out of sight.

[Not all things worth looking for are hidden. Some are just misplaced and lost.]

[dangerouswind]

Guess so. [She folds her arms, rests her chin on them. Falls silent, because really? What is there to say?]

[endgames]

[He'll let the quiet continue for a little while longer then - it's what she came out here for, and for now it's enough that she's not alone. He picks up a stone; forfeits it for a smoother one to turn over in his hands.]

[dangerouswind]

[She lets the silence be for as long as she's able. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to him; it's that she doesn't know what to say. He knows Kankuro's gone. He wouldn't be out here just sitting with her if he didn't. Hell, if he didn't poke through her apartment -- if he'd been near enough to hear the commotion -- then one of the others could have told him. It's not a great leap of logic to make.

She wants to say something. Silence doesn't seem right. Kankuro was never the silent type, so why try to honor his memory by sitting in complete silence?

... And why is she acting like he's dead? He's fine. He's fine and he'll be fine. He'll survive the war. He'll thrive. It'll all be fine. He doesn't need her anymore. He's grown into a fine man who doesn't need his big sister dogging his every step.

She tosses another rock into the water.]

[endgames]

[Shikamaru skips his, and this time it makes it across the bank.]

Are you coming back tonight?

[dangerouswind]

[She shrugs one shoulder.] No where else to go.

[Still has to clean up a mess - as far as she knows - and close a door on an empty room.]

[endgames]

[There's plenty of places, but maybe he just thinks that because he's spent so much time running to them when he doesn't like how things pan out here.

You're just too tired to look, he thinks, and fetches another stone.]

[dangerouswind]

[She reaches out then, snagging his sleeve with one hand and dropping her forehead to her knees. She hates feeling vulnerable, hates showing it even more.

Can't stand the thought of being alone.

Don't go.]

1/2

[endgames]

[It's almost jarring to see, much less be on the other side of it. This is the woman he had to fight with just to let him help her when she was deaf.

Here she is now, gripping fast to his shirt sleeve like a child afraid of being separated from a parent.

"Dad... Can you let go of my hand already?"
"Oh? Are you embarrassed?"]

[endgames]

[He takes two steps closer to her in the next moment, so she's not reaching. Reserving his words, he shifts the hand in the sleeves she's holding so he can gently take hers.

It's okay. It's okay to need someone.]

[dangerouswind]

[She doesn't lean into him, doesn't really acknowledge that he's moved other than to curl her fingers around his. It's like all she can think about are all the things she never said. Her brother's gone off to war without her and she couldn't even bring herself to tell him what he means to her.

She always thought that she would be the one to go home. Anything in Luceti is temporary; it's the very nature of the place. Alliances won't last, friendships will be severed, families are broken. Her brothers have come and gone, though, and she's been left here.

She's never even managed to be their sister here.

She's been a fool and she's not going home and now she's living with regret.

She's such an idiot.

It's hard not to notice the tears - they embody every weakness she tries very hard to live without. An inane thought cross her mind: Tables are turned. I'm the crybaby now. No sobbing, no wailing, not even shaking shoulders. Just tears.

She can't keep living in Suna while she's here. It's not working.]

[endgames]

[Girls crying. He's no good with girls crying... How many times has it been now, when he's been faced with a woman's tears and become as useless to them as a statue made of stone, just watching as they fall? Comforting has never been his strong-suit.

And here before him is the person he never though would need it.

He doesn't want to be that way, however. Not just for her, he wants to be warmer. He rubs his thumb over her knuckle, and makes to sit beside her on that rock as well as he can, with the space.]

[dangerouswind]

[The tears abate fairly quickly. She's not going to fall apart. Wouldn't do it on her own, won't do it in his company. She wipes at her eyes, never lets go of his hand, and ends up staring into the water.

Stupid. All of it, from Kankuro's leaving to her tears.]

[endgames]

Don't. [He doesn't speak until she begins wiping her tears.] Don't feel ashamed.

[dangerouswind]

[Easy for you to say, crybaby. There are a million things she should say and a million more she could. None of it comes to light, not yet.

There's too much thinking to do. She turns her head just enough to look at him. Her voice is a little rough.] You gonna tell me I'm not alone, too? Because really. It's been pounded into my head all day. [There's nothing belligerent in her tone. She knows what they're saying, she gets it, she even appreciates it... but it's been about the only thing she's heard.]

[endgames]

[He shakes his head.] You'd still feel that way. Other than sitting beside you, there's nothing I can do about that.

[And he holds her hand a little tighter, before saying the next thing.]

You've done a good job of trying to convince me otherwise, but it's all right. To cry, and be upset, that is.

[dangerouswind]

[You know what, though? Sitting beside her is probably better than any words thrown her way today. It's almost alarming to her how much she just wants him to sit there with her for awhile.]

Tell that to Kankuro. [She can't shake the feeling that he'd be ashamed of her.] I'd almost gotten used to not having them around when he showed up. [A pause, because this is what she's ashamed of. Not the tears. Not being upset. She never tried to re-establish that connection while he was here.] Hadn't even really figured out how to live with him again before he was gone.

[endgames]

If he'd known what people go through, when they're here for so long, he'd understand. Far as I know, he didn't ask, so it's a miscommunication that goes both ways.

Not that I'm gonna blame him for that. There's nothing to blame.

[It just happens. All the time, it happens.]

[dangerouswind]

[She sighs, folding one hand over her knees, and looks out over the water.] That's the problem.

[There's nothing to blame -- so how can she fight it?]

[endgames]

[He lets go of her other hand now. Released, but not straying far from beside hers.]

That's life. It's not unique to here.

[dangerouswind]

Still a problem anywhere. [If she can hit it with her fan, then she can deal with it. If not...

... Well. Obviously, she has a little trouble with that.]

[endgames]

[He gives her what he hopes is a tender look.] If it's a problem, solve it. You're smart enough to know you don't need your fan for everything.

[dangerouswind]

[She does soften a bit in the face of that particular look.] Easier with the fan.