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Shikamaru had never considered himself a morning person, but he’d learned to appreciate the blissfully silent hours before noon. Temari, he theorized, relished being able to sleep in as late as possible while in Konoha, since the cool early morning hours were too precious to waste on sleep in Suna.
“We’re still out of milk,” he heard sometime after one. Temari ambled into the living room and brandished the empty carton that had been sitting on the counter top the past two days in his face.
“Good morning to you too” replied Shikamaru. He toyed with returning to his book and feigning ignorance of her desires, but decided that it was too early to provoke her needlessly. Provoking her on purpose, however, was another matter. “You could always buy it yourself,” he said.
“Is this how you treat your guests? By making them run errands for you?” asked Temari. Shikamaru eyed her. The indulgent mood that normally resulted from a restful night’s sleep (a rarity in their line of work) had not quite dissipated, and she was more amused than accusatory.
“As you’re the only guest I ever have, it’s difficult to generalize, but one day I’d like you to think of this as a second home” said Shikamaru. Temari smiled at his words and sat down on the couch, leaning just enough against him to feel a comfortable pressure.
“I never did chores when I was at home you know. There were servants for most of it, and for the rest, there was Kankuro,” said Temari.
“I’m guessing that wasn’t voluntary,” said Shikamaru.
“Give the genius a prize,” said Temari. “I’d challenge him to something, and winner got stuck with chores. Not my fault he never won.”
“Let’s do this your way then. Thumb wrestle for it?” said Shikamaru. He took her hand in his.
“When we were kids we tended to choose things with more opportunity for destruction, but that sounds like a good idea,” she replied.
“One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war,” they chanted in unison. Shikamaru felt somewhat comforted that despite their very different childhoods, they had at least these silly rhymes in common.
Temari was physically stronger than most ninja he knew, and of course she was stronger than he was. That strength along with the several years she had over Kankuro had probably helped to ensure her choreless streak. Shikamaru was a ninja though, and not a child anymore, so after just barely slipping out of her thumb’s grip, he called up a modified shadow binding to pin down her thumb and immobilize the rest of her body.
“One, two, three, four, I win the thumb war,” stated Shikamaru before releasing Temari. She glared at him. “How about we go shopping together?” offered Shikamaru.
“Okay,” said Temari, as if this step further into domesticity together was perfectly unremarkable.
“Okay,” repeated Shikamaru.