Work Text:
“So, I’ll be out for a few minutes, then Shikamaru and Gaara should get back from their meeting, and then we’re going out, so you need to watch him for a while on your own, okay?”
“Temari,” Kankuro rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying. I can handle your kid for half an hour.”
“He’ll just keep doing his crossword.” Temari fidgeted at the front door. “Try not to do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
“When have I ever done something stupid?”
“I’m in a hurry, so I’ll answer that later. Shikadai!” she raised her voice.
After a short pause, there was an answering yell, “Yes, Mom?”
“I’m going out. Kankuro is here.”
“Okay!”
“Behave yourself!”
“Maybe!”
“Wrong answer!”
Another pause, then a lower, reluctant reply. “. . . Um, okay. I’ll behave . . . what a drag . . .”
Kankuro raised an eyebrow.
“Shikadai’s going through a rebellious phase,” Temari explained. “Shikamaru is redirecting his energy into learning. So watch your language; the kid’s like a sponge. Ino says it’s perfectly normal. Kids do that.”
“Your phase has lasted over twenty years, but sure,” Kankuro shrugged.
“Shut up, moron.”
“Bad word!” Shikadai shouted from the kitchen.
“Just,” Temari sighed. “Use nice words.”
“So, nothing that describes you? Got it.”
Shikadai was sitting at the kitchen table with a crossword and a dictionary, sucking on the end of his pencil. He smiled at his uncle. “Why do you have a handprint on the side of your face?”
“No reason, kid. So, your parents are out tonight. It’ll be you and me and uncle Gaara.”
“Yay,” Shikadai grinned at his crossword. “That’s always fun.” He made a mark on the paper, then flipped the dictionary open.
“Where does your mom hide the treats?” Kankuro asked.
Shikadai didn’t look up. “Cookies in the back of the cupboard – Dad made them; they’re safe - ice-cream in the frozen fish box, waffles on the top shelf.”
“No chocolate?” Kankuro asked.
“Dad says we’re not allowed to keep it in the house,” Shikadai explained, sounding weary. “But sometimes Mom just takes the chocolate chips for the cookies and pours them straight into her mouth.”
“Sounds about right.” Kankuro opened the cupboard, sticking an arm in and rummaging around. “What are you working on?”
“Dad’s letting me do crosswords,” Shikadai patted the dictionary beside him. “I have to look up the words I don’t know. It’s fun.”
Keeping Shikadai mentally occupied could be a challenge. Kankuro raised an eyebrow. “I see. Do you find it difficult?”
“I’m learning a lot of new words,” Shikadai said. “Do you know what ‘parenthesis’ means?”
“I think I caught that as a child. Keep learning, kid. I’ll just eat these cookies.”
Shikadai turned his attention back to his activity, and Kankuro peered into the cupboard for a better view.
“Uncle Kankuro?” Shikadai looked up. “Why doesn’t this word have a meaning?”
“Huh?” Kankuro frowned, hand still groping in the back of the cupboard. “What?”
“It says the word has no meaning.” Shikadai pointed to the dictionary. “’Inexplicable – cannot be explained’.”
“Ah,” Kankuro nodded. “No, that’s what the word means. It means something that isn’t able to be explained.”
“Like Mom and Dad,” Shikadai nodded.
“Sure, like that.”
“What’s the root word?”
“What’s the who’s what?”
“The root word,” Shikadai sat back. “You know, the word it comes from. If you take away the prefix and suffix, then you’re left with the root word.”
“What language are you speaking?”
Shikadai huffed impatiently. “The prefix is ‘in’ which means ‘not’. Like ‘inept’, meaning not adept. And the suffix is ‘able’.”
Kankuro blinked at him. “What do they teach kids these days?”
“So the word left is ‘explic’,” Shikadai proposed. “But I don’t know that word. I’ll look it up.”
“You do that.” Kankuro found the cookies. “Got ‘em! Man, Temari is great at hiding things.”
“This one is close,” Shikadai said chirpily. “’Explicit’. Hm. ‘Completely clear and including details; made easy to understand. Can also mean graphic or offensive, for example: explicit pornography’.”
Kankuro stared at him, while Shikadai heaved a sigh.
“What a drag,” he said. “That’s another word I don’t know.” He thumbed through the pages. “Now I need to find ‘pornography’-“
“That’s enough learning for one day,” Kankuro scooped Shikadai out of his chair. “Leave some words for later. Come on, kid, let’s go do something else.”
“But I haven’t looked it up-“ Shikadai made a failed swipe for the dictionary, but Kankuro pulled him out of range.
“You need some outside play time. Until your parents get home. Why don’t you show me all the cool ninja stuff you’ve learned, and then you can show Gaara when he gets here, too?”
“But the word-“
“There’s more to life than learning words. Practical things are just as important. You need to be good at that as well,” Kankuro bodily carried his small, squirming nephew to the back door. “We can spend some time training, get your mind off everything you’ve learnt, and fill it up with other things.”
Shikadai, as most children are, was easily distracted, and within minutes of being outside had stopped insisting that he needed his dictionary, and had settled into showing off for his uncle.
They were still outside when Shikamaru and Gaara returned home.
“Uncle Gaara!” Shikadai shouted in delight, sprinting across the grass to jump at the Kazekage.
“Hello, Shikadai,” Gaara said warmly, catching him and lifting him up. “How are you doing?”
“Kankuro’s teaching me to stab things,” Shikadai announced.
Shikamaru lifted one shoulder. “Fair enough.”
“You’re getting too big,” Gaara said, inspecting Shikadai closely. “Stop growing so quickly.”
“Visit more often,” Shikadai insisted. “Then I won’t grow so fast.”
“Interesting logic,” Kankuro mused. “Maybe we should test his theory.”
“You should,” Shikadai nodded. Gaara moved to put Shikadai down, but, true to past encounters, Shikadai glued himself to his uncle, and Gaara gave up without even a token protest.
“Temari says you spoil him,” Shikamaru said.
Gaara levelled a look at him. “And what do you think?”
“I think you can do whatever you like to him.” Shikamaru shrugged dismissively.
“I heard that.”
Shikamaru whipped around at the sound of Temari’s voice. “You’re home early.”
She gave him a thin smile. “And you’re an idiot. How are you?”
“No complaints,” Shikamaru replied. “Gaara’s just being overindulgent, as usual.”
And, as usual, looking utterly shameless about it.
“I learnt new words today,” Shikadai said, loosening his death grip on Gaara, now that the danger of being put down had apparently passed.
“Good job, kid,” Shikamaru nodded.
“Dad,” Shikadai asked, frowning slightly. “What’s ‘pornography’ mean?”
Temari’s head snapped around to level a glare at Kankuro.
He took a step back. “It wasn’t me, I swear! He found it himself!”
“It means you can’t look at it,” Shikamaru said quickly. “That’s all.”
“Okay,” Shikadai nodded. “Thanks.” He looked thoughtful. “Can’t look at it. Got it. Uncle Kankuro didn’t know what it was.”
“How noble of him,” Shikamaru said, working hard not to grin at the way Temari was glaring violently at her eldest brother. “Well, maybe you can teach him a few words tonight.”
“Where are you two going?” Gaara asked.
“Walk around the village, talk a bit, then see what happens,” Shikamaru replied. “We don’t have a set date night routine.”
“Except the talking bit,” Temari added. “Certain topics are off limits after a certain time. You know, so we don’t spend the entire time talking about work.”
“Sounds cute,” Kankuro smirked. “Is that meant to be one of your oh so foolproof ways of staying connected in a dull, dreary marriage?”
“And exactly how long have you been married?” Temari shot back sharply. “Or even in a relationship? Because I know the answer to that.”
“Play nice, Tem, it’s date night,” Shikamaru placed his hands on her shoulders, pointing her out of the room. “Go get ready, and don’t murder the babysitters. I can’t believe I need to repeat that every date night.”
“It’s only one babysitter being murdered,” Temari replied over her shoulder, but she left without further protest.
“Well, try not to burn the house down while we’re gone,” Shikamaru requested, and Shikadai nodded reassuringly. “And don’t stay up too late.”
“Are you two back tonight or tomorrow?” Gaara asked, shifting to hold Shikadai more comfortably.
“Uh, don’t know,” Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck. “Depends what we end up doing. Odds are tomorrow morning.”
“Stay away as long as you want,” Gaara added. “We don’t mind spending time with Shikadai.”
Shikadai beamed up at his uncle. He loved when they visited – they were lax with rules, and Gaara could be easily manipulated into holding him constantly.
He waved both parents goodbye with his usual, casual flare, keen to finally get some alone time with his uncles.
When Kankuro returned to the lounge after washing up after dinner Shikadai was sitting in a corner, hunched over a drawing book and surrounded by crayons while Gaara sat on the couch, seemingly engrossed in reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar.
“Hey, what’re you drawing, kid?” Kankuro asked, approaching him to look.
“Pornography!” Shikadai snapped, covering his drawing defensively.
“You’re doing what?”
“He means you can’t look at it,” Gaara said calmly, turning the page.
“Ohhhh . . . That’s okay.” Kankuro came to sit next to his brother. “Shouldn’t we fix that problem?”
“He’ll stop using it if we just leave him alone,” Gaara said.
“Or . . . we can teach him a different word. Tell him it’s a bad word. That’ll get his attention.”
Gaara threw him a doubtful look. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Of course it’ll work. Kids are easy. Just tell them that they can’t do something, and that’s all they want to do. That’s how Shikamaru got Temari, after all.”
Gaara blinked. “It is not.”
“’Course it is. The Elders told her not to date Shikamaru, and viola, she married him. Kids are no different.”
“Kids are no different to spiteful, vengeful women with a grudge against their village Elders and a pathological need to do the opposite of what they’re told?”
“Exactly!”
Gaara stared at Kankuro, the silence stretching on. Eventually, Gaara heaved a sigh. “Against my better judgement, we can give it a try. What word is he unlikely to know, or hear, in the next few years?”
“Well,” Kankuro shrugged. “He lives with Temari; he’s probably never heard the words ‘loving’, or ‘affectionate’ or ‘nurturing’.”
“Fifteen minutes of free talk left,” Shikamaru announced. “Anything you need to get off your chest before ‘us talk’ begins?”
“I’m really loving having my brothers around,” Temari said. “They’re so affectionate and nurturing with Shikadai.”
“Yeah, they are. And a good influence. He can learn a lot of good things from them.”
“Hey, kiddo,” Kankuro sat next to his nephew, who edged his paper away, shielding it protectively. “Wanna learn a bad word?”
“Kankuro’s surprisingly sweet with him,” Temari mused. “I used to worry about leaving them alone, because Kankuro tends to do stupid things, thinking he’s helping, but I guess he’s outgrown that now.”
“I’m not supposed to use bad words,” Shikadai said suspiciously. “What’s the catch here?”
“No catch,” Kankuro assured. “Nothing bad will happen.”
“I’m a genius, and you’re not, so I think one of us might have a better idea of what will happen,” Shikadai said flatly, and Gaara hid a snort in his mug of tea.
“Kid, you need to rebel a little. You need to learn to misbehave. It’s part of growing up.”
“Mom says behaving is a better idea.”
“Your mom has no idea what behaving is.”
“We’re heading into dangerous territory,” Gaara warned. “Think this through, Kankuro.”
“We got up to all sorts of trouble when we were kids,” Temari mused. “I guess it’s a good thing Kankuro doesn’t do that anymore.”
“So, Shikadai,” Kankuro began slowly. “Here’s a word you’ve probably never heard of before . . .” He paused. He needed a long word. One that no five-year-old should be aware of. “Pernickety.”
“Means fussy or particular,” Shikadai said flatly.
“Smorgasbord,” Kankuro continued confidently.
“A large array or selection.”
“Ramifications.”
“Means same as consequences.”
“Photosynthesis.”
“That’s just plants using sun to make air.” Shikadai frowned. “These aren’t bad words. These are normal words.”
“The fuck is teaching him all these words?” Kankuro asked wonderingly.
“What is ‘fu-“
“Mozzarella,” Gaara said firmly. “The bad word is mozzarella.”
Shikadai fell silent, musing over that.
“Really?” Kankuro threw his brother an unimpressed look. “You went with that? Kinda cheesy, isn’t it?”
Gaara’s expression didn’t change. “This is why Temari doesn’t like you babysitting.”
“And . . . time’s up,” Shikamaru said. “Topics that are off limits tonight are work, Shikadai, family problems and clan stuff.”
“Alright,” Temari said agreeably. They were walking hand in hand through the quiet streets, with no particular destination in mind. “Where should we go for dinner tonight?”
“What level of romance are we aiming for?” Shikamaru asked, brushing his thumb over the top of her hand.
“Nothing too fancy. We could just wander around until something catches our eye.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Shikadai was quiet, considering this new word. Eventually, he asked, “Why is it a bad word?”
Gaara looked at Kankuro, expression clearly stating ‘you got us into this mess, you can get us out.’
“It means . . .” Kankuro paused, stalling to frantically think of something.
“We can look it up,” Shikadai said helpfully. “My dictionary is in the kitchen. I’ll go get it.”
“Now what?” Gaara growled, once Shikadai had toddled out the room. “What’s your brilliant plan now?”
“Don’t blame me,” Kankuro hissed back.
“I will blame you. You better think of something.”
“I dunno, what’s bad for kids to learn?”
“Probably everything you are thinking right now. Temari is going to kill you. Slowly. And I won’t stop her.”
“I’ll think of something,” Kankuro rolled his eyes. “How hard can it be to fool a child?”
“He’s a genius.”
“So is Shikamaru and he was dumb enough to marry Temari, so maybe genius isn’t all it’s cracked up to be-“
“How do you spell it?” Shikadai interrupted, appearing in front of them and leafing through the dictionary.
“Gimme,” Kankuro muttered, holding out a hand. “I’ll find it for you.”
Shikadai handed the book over, and stood expectantly.
“Redirect him.” Kankuro muttered out the corner of his mouth.
“I know what redirect means,” Shikadai said proudly. “You can’t make me fall for that. I’m too smart – Dad says so.”
“Okay, smarty-pants,” Kankuro said, opening the dictionary on a random page. “Ah, here it is. Mozzarella. Uh . . . A terribly bad, rude word to call people. Well, better never say it aloud, okay?”
“Okay,” Shikadai agreed. “Will I get in trouble?”
“Yes,” Kankuro and Gaara replied at the exact same time.
“Okay.” Shikadai shrugged. “We won’t say it.”
Kankuro heaved a sigh of relief. “See?” he said to Gaara. “Everything is fine.”
Gaara looked doubtful. “. . . I’m not so sure. These things have a tendency to come back to haunt us.”
“Nah. When will this ever come up again?”
“Oh, there’s a nice place. Pizza for dinner?” Shikamaru suggested.
“Yeah, sure,” Temari replied.
Shikadai, luckily, could still fall asleep in an instant.
Gaara was two pages from the end of The Very Hungry Caterpillar when his audience ceased to pay attention, and slumped heavily against his chest.
“Just out of curiosity,” Kankuro whispered, so as not to wake Shikadai. “How does the book end?”
“He turns into a butterfly,” Gaara provided.
“That is commonly the fate of caterpillars.” Kankuro nodded. “Not the most challenging story, is it? Surely Shikadai is ready for more exciting stories?”
“Apparently he likes this one,” Gaara said. “Or else Shikamaru likes it, I’m not sure which.” He looked down at the top of Shikadai’s head while the child slept. “Can I just sit with him all night? Do we really need to put him to bed?”
“Temari gets mad when we coddle him,” Kankuro warned.
“Yes, and? What’s she going to do?” Gaara wrapped his arms possessively around Shikadai, and sent Kankuro a reproachful look. “Call us mozzarella?”
“I panicked, okay?” Kankuro rolled his eyes. “And you were the one who picked that word.”
“And you defined it,” Gaara untied Shikadai’s hair, fluffing it. “The blame sits with you.”
Kankuro huffed. “It’ll be fine. Shikadai won’t ‘swear’ in front of his mom, and what are the odds of him learning about cheeses in the next few months?”
“So Karui and Chouji have been taking cooking classes together – couple-bonding thing – and apparently they’ve been learning about different cheese,” Shikamaru scrutinized his pizza. “Chocho’s been learning them too. I bet she’ll try teach them to Shikadai and Inojin.”
“Good,” Temari replied. “Cheeses have weird names. He’ll never manage to say them all. Maybe it’ll challenge him for a bit.”
“Yeah. We should do something like that together, as well. Not cooking classes. But something we both like.”
“We quite like spending time together in quiet places.”
“I propose,” Shikamaru started. “A week-long holiday somewhere outside of Konoha, where we can watch clouds and relax.”
“Good proposal,” Temari nodded.
“We can leave Shikadai in Suna for the week. Gaara and Kankuro are a good influence on him.”
“Temari is never going to let us spend time with him again,” Kankuro sighed.
“Maybe he’ll have forgotten about the bad words in the morning,” Gaara suggested, staring at Shikadai as he slept. “And maybe she won’t let you spend time with him, but I am innocent. I did nothing wrong.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Shikadai shifted in his sleep, muttering slightly.
Kankuro and Gaara stayed very still.
“If he heard that,” Gaara said in a low voice. “And repeats it . . . Temari will kill us both.”
“Don’t worry,” Kankuro said, gaining back some confidence. “We’ll distract him in the morning and he’ll never remember any of this.”
“Think everything’s okay at home?” Temari mumbled sleepily, snuggling closer to Shikamaru.
Their hotel was quiet and out of the way, and Shikamaru had fallen asleep almost instantly. He snorted a bit, waking up, “Huh?”
“Home. Think everything’s okay?”
“Yeah. You can check with Shikadai in the morning – you know that kid never forgets anything. He’ll give us a detailed rundown of his night with his uncles.”
“So, kiddo, how’s school going?” Kankuro asked, fast implementing his distraction strategy, once Shikadai wandered into the kitchen in the morning with his pajamas unbuttoned and his hair in a frizzy mess.
“Ugh,” Shikadai rolled his eyes. “Annoying.”
He hopped up onto Kankuro’s lap, clearly situating himself there for breakfast.
“Why is it annoying?” Gaara asked.
“Everyone at school is dumb. And they make fun of me for not being dumb.” He looked at Gaara curiously, then tipped his head back to study Kankuro. Deciding to take a calculated risk, he added in a venturing tone, “They’re all such mozzarellas.”
Gaara and Kankuro exchanged looks over the table.
“What’s Plan B?” Gaara asked flatly.
Kankuro sank deeper into his seat, looking defeated. “. . . Temari’s going to revoke my babysitting rights.”
“I like when you look after me,” Shikadai claimed. “I learn a lot. I’m gonna look up ‘revoke’ after breakfast.”
Temari and Shikamaru returned home to see everything looking as it had when they had left.
“Well,” Shikamaru observed. “The house isn’t burnt down.”
“There are many disasters that don’t involve fire,” Temari replied, opening the front door.
The first thing greeting her was Shikadai announcing cheerfully, “I learnt a bad word!”
“He started it!” Kankuro pointed accusingly at Shikamaru.
Shikamaru blinked. “Me? I wasn’t even here.”
“It’s your fault! You’re the one who gave your five-year-old free range of a dictionary!”
“How-“ Shikamaru began, only to be shouted over by Temari, “What the heck does that have to do with you teaching my son ‘bad words’?”
(“She said ‘heck’,” Gaara snorted. “It’s a bad word,” Shikadai whispered back.)
“Because he’s smart and he sure as shit doesn’t get that from you!” Kankuro argued.
“What did you just say?” Temari snarled.
Shikamaru moved swiftly, ushering Gaara and Shikadai into the kitchen. “Best to get out of her way.”
“I know.” Gaara didn’t even flinch at the sound of Temari and Kankuro snapping at each other. “I sometimes think fighting is a way of bonding, for them.”
“It totally is,” Shikamaru agreed.
“Where did you go last night?” Gaara asked pleasantly, completely ignoring the increasingly loud altercation between Temari and Kankuro in the background.
“Just out for pizza,” Shikamaru shrugged.
“Hey,” Shikadai perked up. “Chocho’s learning about stuff that goes on pizza. All different cheese. What cheese was on your pizza, Dad?”
“Mozzarella, kid.”
Shikadai fell silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes at his father.
Gaara sighed.
“Mom!” Shikadai bellowed. “Dad’s swearing! Kankuro taught him a bad word!”
“No I didn’t!” Kankuro yelped, bolting into the kitchen. He skidded to a halt behind Gaara and Shikadai, holding his brother firmly by the shoulders, peeking carefully out from over his shoulder.
“Don’t use my baby as a human shield,” Temari snarled, advancing.
Kankuro ducked behind Shikamaru instead.
“Don’t use me,” Shikamaru said, making a swift step to the side. “She’ll go through me to get to you; use Shikadai again!”
Gaara turned his back to them, shielding Shikadai protectively. “No!”
In a moment of swift decision making, Kankuro dashed out the door and into the forest. “Haha! Can’t catch me out here, Tem; you’ll never find me!”
“I’ll tear down the whole forest until I find you!” Temari retorted, pushing past Shikamaru to follow Kankuro outside.
“Don’t tear down my forest!” Shikamaru yelped, making a failed grab to catch her. He scuttled after her, calling pleadingly, “Temari, please, the forest didn’t do anything wrong-“
Gaara and Shikadai remained in the kitchen, and Shikadai peered up at his uncle. “Will you keep holding me all day?”
“Of course,” Gaara replied. He hugged Shikadai a little closer. “I’m your favourite uncle, right?” Gaara smiled into Shikadai’s hair.
Shikadai sighed, looking over Gaara’s shoulder to the back door, where the continuation of Temari and Kankuro’s scuffle could be heard. “Looks like you’ll be my only uncle, soon.”
“And he turned into a beautiful butterfly,” Gaara concluded, closing the book.
Shikadai sat thoughtfully on his lap, nodding. “Yep. He did that last time, too.”
“Funny how that works,” Shikamaru put in.
“Oh,” Shikadai said, looking at his father. “Kankuro said a word last night that I didn’t know, but I didn’t have my dictionary.”
Kankuro, sitting as far away from Temari as was possible, glowered. “Kid, just don’t.”
“What is ‘fuck’?”
Shikamaru sighed, sinking further into the couch and shifting the arm he had around Temari’s shoulders to physically hold her back. “Really, Kankuro?”
Temari glared at him, and Kankuro glared back at her, while Shikadai waited patiently for an explanation.
“Bad word,” Shikamaru replied wearily. “Don’t repeat it.”
Shikadai shrugged. “Okay. But Uncle Kankuro was using a lot of bad words so maybe you guys should talk to him as well about behaving.”
“For a genius, he’s sure having a hard time learning when to keep his mouth shut,” Kankuro growled.
“To be fair,” Shikamaru interjected, “He doesn’t get that from the genius side of his family.”