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In an interesting reversal of roles, Temari was at home while Shikamaru was away for a few weeks, to some remote village neither of them had heard of before Naruto brought it up, for something to do with shinobi exchange and trading and a few other political things that Temari hadn’t been listening to.
It had meant that Temari was, for once, having a lazy morning at home, standing on the back porch and drinking tea while the deer roamed optimistically closer and closer, in case she spoiled them like Shikamaru did.
‘Her deer’, the dark-coloured doe that Shikamaru kept tempting near the house, was on the porch with her, nosing around and nibbling at the kitchen doorframe.
Autumn was setting in, and Temari had never got over the novelty of leaves changing colours. Back home in Suna, there were no seasons. It was summer all the time. It was windy all the time. It was dry all the time.
But as autumn set in, the deer came begging, trying their luck for kitchen scraps, well aware that Shikamaru caved almost every time and they would go into winter fat and glossy.
Temari was not so easily persuaded. One of the stags had been engaged in a staring match with her since she had come outside, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. He could stand there all day; she wasn’t going to throw him an apple or anything.
“Hey,” Shikadai sounded from behind her, somewhere in the kitchen.
Temari turned to face him. “Morning.”
“I think Dad’s home,” Shikadai announced casually. “Inojin and I saw some of the shinobi who had gone with him.”
“Where have you been?” Temari asked, glossing over Shikadai’s announcement.
“Spent the night at Inojin’s.”
“You were gone for two nights.”
Shikadai shrugged. “We were marathoning a new game, and lost track of time.”
“Hm,” Temari frowned. “Once classes start again, you’re on limited game time.”
“I know, I know,” Shikadai grumbled. He peered inside the fridge. “That’s why we didn’t play here. Ino doesn’t complain as much as you.”
“Maybe she doesn’t have to. Maybe her boys aren’t lazy.”
Shikadai pulled his head back far enough to offer a grin.
Temari returned it, then continued sipping her tea and watching the deer. Maybe she would go for a walk in the forest later. It had been a while since she had helped Shikamaru look for discarded deer antlers. Usually, the job was Shikadai’s, but he had a myriad of excuses ready that Shikamaru gave into frequently, and then did the chore himself.
It irritated Temari that Shikamaru gave in so easily to Shikadai’s whining, but she couldn’t get too annoyed at him for this habit, since Shikamaru loved wandering the forest aimlessly. He found it relaxing, and so picking up antlers was a gentle form of stress relief for him.
The stag snorted suddenly, stomping a hoof against the ground.
Temari continued to ignore him, planning out the rest of her day. She should probably swing past Karui and see what she was up to – last time they had spoken Karui had mentioned she was working on a new cookie recipe, and Temari was shameless in her quest for treats. Karui always had something to offer, and Shikadai was, once again, an unreliable errand boy who either ate everything on his way home or got sidetracked into other things.
Shikamaru was useless. Any visit to Chouji resulted in a long stay, with him and Chouji talking for hours over nothing. Temari had sent Shikamaru out to visit just before lunch and had him returning home after midnight enough times not to bother sending him out if she wanted anything specific. It was easier to just do things herself.
She heard his footsteps at the front door, and regarded the stag. “There, he’s home. You can bother him again instead of me.”
The stag stayed perfectly still, head high and waiting optimistically.
Temari went to the front door to meet Shikamaru, nudging her deer out of the kitchen as she went.
He was pushing the door open with a shoulder, looking pre-occupied with the blanket he had bundled in his arms.
“What do you have there?”
Shikamaru’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice. “It’s not a mid-life crisis.”
“That’s a new greeting.” Temari raised an eyebrow. “So what is it?”
Shikamaru smiled, looking quietly excited. Temari could feel herself already resigning to whatever he had brought home, because he rarely got excited over anything, and seeing him grinning like a dork made her irritation fade.
“It turns out the village we stayed at has a deer herder,” Shikamaru said, his special, quiet enthusiasm flooding every word. “And he breeds rare deer.”
“Don’t tell me,” Temari said, shaking her head slightly. “You brought a fawn, didn’t you?”
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Shikamaru peeled the blanket back a little, revealing a small, downy soft head and huge brown eyes. He admired the little deer. “She’s patterned – she’s white and cream.”
Temari nodded. “Okay. Isn’t she a little small to be outside alone, especially since winter’s setting in?”
“She’s staying with us this season,” Shikamaru announced casually. He walked into the house, not taking his eyes off the fawn.
“What?” Temari spun to follow him. “Oh, hell no, Shikamaru, we’re not keeping a deer in the house.”
“Yes, we are.” He walked purposefully to the kitchen, setting the blanket bundle down on the kitchen table and peeling back layers of cloth.
Temari came to stand beside him, frowning.
The fawn was tiny, curled into a jumbled ball of limbs. She was mostly cream coloured, much paler than any of the deer in the forest, with random splashes of white scattered around her body, including one ear and a small part of her head. She lay serenely on the table, looking around and blinking slowly.
Shikamaru just gazed at her, looking absolutely smitten.
Temari raised an eyebrow. “Why did you bring a deer home with you?”
“Because she’s beautiful, and we’ve never had a patterned deer before. And she was my favourite out of the crop of fawns he had. I almost bought four.”
“Why did you choose her?”
There was probably some dumb, sentimental, sappy reason, because Shikamaru was always dumb, sentimental and sappy when it came to the deer.
He stroked the fawn’s ears gently. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“Probably.”
He chanced a glance at Temari, then back at the fawn. “Because of her colour.”
“Tan with white patches? I don’t get it.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” Shikamaru hoisted the fawn into his arms. “She’s made of clouds and sand, Tem.”
The little creature sat placidly in Shikamaru’s grasp, legs dangling down, head turning to observe where she was. He set her down on the floor, and she wobbled on long legs for a few seconds before taking small, pattering steps around to investigate the kitchen.
“We are not keeping a deer inside all winter,” Temari said, feeling the need to nip this in the bud.
“We are,” Shikamaru replied, just watching the little fawn totter around.
“The other deer will look after her.”
“She’s still being bottle fed.”
“So why didn’t you buy one that was weaned?”
“Because she was the only one coloured this way. The others were darker.”
“So?”
He sent her a smug look. “I like blonde girls.”
“Great,” Temari replied. “I’ll let Ino know you’ll be moving in.”
“Tem,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t be mean. She’s just a little deer; she won’t be any trouble at all.”
“You want to keep a wild animal in the house all winter?”
“We let Kankuro stay in the house when he visits.”
Temari narrowed her eyes. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Fine, she can stay. But don’t make it weird.”
“Dad’s in the bath with the deer,” Shikadai announced. “Should I start looking for a decent therapist now, or should I let all my mental scarring fester like your family did?”
“For a genius, you really haven’t managed to learn when to shut up,” Temari growled. She lifted her head away from a mission briefing. “Is he really in the bath with that deer?”
“Well, he’s in there with someone he keeps calling a beautiful girl, and you’re out here, so . . .” Shikadai shrugged helplessly. “I’ll just start coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never be able to have a healthy relationship with anyone, ever, because my family is insane.”
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Temari frowned.
Shikadai looked dismissive. “Nope.”
“Well, find somewhere else to be.” Temari ignored him as he went through the room and out the front door. After a moment, she put her papers aside and went to the bathroom, assuming Shikadai was wrong and Shikamaru was not actually in the bath with the fawn.
Temari leant against the doorframe. “Shikamaru.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. Yes, in the bath. With the deer. “Yes?”
“You’re in the bath with a deer.”
“How else would she get clean?”
She didn’t even have a suitable response for that level of idiocy. She wasn’t used to Shikamaru being stupid. It confused her. “. . . Why are you giving the deer a bath? Actually, better question, why are you in there with her?”
“She was scared of the water, and wouldn’t settle down on her own,” Shikamaru said. “And the answer to question one, is,” he hesitated. After a moment, he said quietly, “Because she keeps crying in the night and I thought if she was clean, you’d let her sleep in the bed with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You won’t even know she’s there.”
“Shikamaru, no,” Temari rubbed a hand cross her face. “We’re not having a deer in the bed.”
“Just until she gets used to living here. It won’t be for long.”
“It won’t be at all.”
Shikamaru gently rubbed the fawn’s ears. “Shikadai slept in bed with us when he was little.”
“Shikadai wasn’t a deer.”
“What if I sleep with her in Shikadai’s bed?”
“And what? Your son sleeps outside with the deer – where that fawn should be?” It was like arguing with a brick wall.
“Don’t be silly,” Shikamaru said. “Shikadai can sleep with you. He doesn’t move.”
The fawn wobbled slightly, and lifted a leg to splash experimentally at the water. It brought a soft, indulgent smile to Shikamaru’s face, and Temari’s stomach sank slightly, because he looked so happy and peaceful, and she was going to go insane.
“No deer in the bed,” she repeated firmly, but it felt like a losing battle.
She didn’t have a problem with him loving deer and all that nonsense – she had known about it from the start. And she loved the deer too. They were beautiful creatures, and watching them was pleasant, and they had come to be synonymous with home. But this was taking it too far. This wasn’t just a fondness for the animals. This wasn’t peaceful woodland creatures browsing in the background of their lives.
This was a fawn in their bed.
“I’m not happy about her being in the bed.”
Shikamaru stroked gently down the fawn’s back, watching the patterns in her coat move under the light pressure. “But she’s sleeping so peacefully now. She’s happy.”
“I’m not happy,” Temari griped.
“Think of it like when Shikadai was born,” Shikamaru said casually. “She won’t have to sleep here for long. Then things can go back to normal between us.”
Temari rolled her eyes, and flopped over to put her back to Shikamaru and his fawn. “At least with Shikadai I got a baby out of the deal.”
“If you want another baby, I will give you another baby,” Shikamaru replied sensibly.
Temari made a disgruntled snort at that. She settled down, ready to sleep and pointedly ignore a small animal in the bed.
“Goodnight, princess,” Shikamaru whispered.
“Goodnight,” she grumbled back.
Shikamaru, who was not called a genius for nothing, did not point out that his comment had been directed at the fawn.
He valued his life, thank you very much.
“Are you giving that deer cookies?”
Shikamaru looked up. He was sitting on the kitchen floor, with the fawn standing in front of him, feeding her the cookies from Karui. “Yes?”
“Seriously?” Temari cocked an eyebrow.
“It’s just a treat, Temari. She’s allowed a treat.”
“And ‘cookies’ was your go-to treat for some dumb deer?”
“She has a name, you know,” Shikamaru pointed out.
“I’m not using it,” Temari replied. “Once you name the dumb deer, then suddenly there’s crying and sadness if something happens, and every deer with a name keeps coming in the kitchen and you spoil them more than the others. No more names. It never leads to good things.”
“Her name is Kivuli,” Shikamaru said, ignoring Temari’s rant. “And she’s going to be so beautiful when she grows up.”
“If you live to see it,” Temari muttered.
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you like the deer?”
“I like the deer just fine, but you make liking the deer weird.” Temari was still finding random deer hair in her bed, and it had been a week. She was going to have to wash the sheets again, although the last few attempts had done nothing.
She left Shikamaru on the floor with his fawn, in favour of going to meet Ino and Karui to complain about her husband.
“Get apples on the way home,” Shikamaru asked. “Kivuli likes the green ones.”
Temari rolled her eyes and stomped out the house.
She did get the apples. And spitefully ate half of them on the way home.
If there was one person who would sympathize with Temari about her husband being batshit crazy over a deer, it was Yoshino.
Which is how Temari found herself knocking on her mother-in-law’s door, after watching Shikamaru leave for work with Kivuli held in his arms. Apparently, she was quite popular at the office.
“Help,” Temari said when Yoshino answered the door. “He’s gone insane. He’s going everywhere with that deer. He took her to work. He’s teaching her tricks. She slept in the bed with us.”
By the time Temari had finished her list of Shikamaru’s transgressions, Yoshino had sat her down in the lounge, nodded at the appropriate times, and just let Temari vent it all out.
“What am I meant to do?” Temari finally asked. “He’s nuts over her.”
Yoshino smiled. “Yes, he would be.”
“It’s madness.”
That prompted a light laugh from Yoshino, and she reached over the edge of her chair towards the small side table.
“Tell me if this deer looks familiar,” Yoshino said, handing Temari a photo frame. “That’s Shikaku and I at our wedding. See the fawn with him?”
Sure enough, there was a little fawn standing right against Shikaku’s leg.
Temari raised her eyes, looking at Yoshino. “It’s a deer?”
“That’s Jani,” Yoshino said. “Shikaku’s favourite.”
She took the photo back, gazing at it fondly. “It was near impossible to keep those two apart. When Shikamaru was younger, Shikaku would take him for rides on Jani’s back. That stag would put his head through the pub’s doorway or window whenever Shikaku was there.”
She placed the photograph on the little table beside her chair, and continued, “I had a rule. No deer in the house. And Shikaku always said ‘it’s Jani, he doesn’t count’. Because, to him, he was more than a deer. That animal was his best friend. And Jani never, ever told him he was wrong, or nagged him about something, or judged him for anything. Jani was never angry with him, and never pressured him, and never asked anything of him except to be there with him.”
Temari stayed quiet.
“Shikaku worked hard to keep the village safe. He worked a lot, and it wasn’t easy. A lot rode on the decisions he made. People could live or die depending on what he decided. But when he came home, Jani was always there. To lend an ear if he needed to talk, or to just be there if he wanted to wander the forest, or lie beside him if he wanted to sit and do nothing. And yes, Shikaku had me, and he had Shikamaru, and Inoichi and Chouza. But there are things in life that people can’t help you with. Sometimes you need something else, something more.”
She smiled fondly at the photograph again, and continued softly, “It’s not only people who give our lives meaning.”
Temari pondered over that, and Yoshino smiled fondly at the photograph. She turned that same smile to Temari.
“Shikamaru’s insane,” Temari sighed, but the words lacked bite and conviction.
“He’s got a lot of love to give,” Yoshino said. “So let him share it.”
Shikamaru and Kivuli were sitting on the couch together – well, Kivuli was lying down with her legs tucked neatly beneath her body and her head resting against Shikamaru’s stomach as he idly stroked her ears.
He looked up when Temari entered the room. “Hey. Where’ve you been?”
“Visiting your mom.”
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. “On purpose?”
“Yes, on purpose,” Temari rolled her eyes. “I actually like spending time with her.”
“She nags more than you,” Shikamaru replied.
“Only because you’re a lazy bastard,” she replied. She looked at the fawn, then at Shikamaru. “She told me about Jani. And how he helped your father.”
Shikamaru’s eyes dropped down to the deer, and his rhymical stroking slowed.
“I don’t get it,” Temari admitted. “But maybe that’s because I didn’t grow up around animals and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel about them. I like the deer, I really do. But . . . I don’t understand them the way that you do.”
Shikamaru nodded. “That’s understandable.”
“However,” Temari came to sit on the couch, with Kivuli between them. “I’d like to learn. And even if I can’t understand the level of devotion you have to them, I can still understand you. And things that are important to you are important to me.”
Shikamaru sent her a grateful look, face softening affectionately.
“I got her something,” Temari declared, shifting to retrieve a small, paper-wrapped package from her pocket. She handed it to Shikamaru. “To show you that I support her being in our lives, even if you make it creepy and weird, and to let everyone know that she’s special to you.”
Shikamaru took the parcel, and curiously unwrapped the paper. A thin, leather collar sat inside – the outer facing surface bedecked in purple glitter with several little green stones dotted at even intervals.
Shikamaru sighed. “Really, Tem? Glitter?”
“It’s pretty and I like it,” she defended.
“It’s . . . glitter . . .” He sent her a pained look. “It’s a bit . . . girly . . .”
“She is a girl,” Temari pointed out.
“But I’m not, and I have to be seen with her in public.” Shikamaru slumped, knowing there was no alternative. If Temari wanted the deer to wear a pretty purple collar there wasn’t much Shikamaru could do about it.
“She won’t wear it all the time,” Temari said, laying a hand on the deer’s rump. She was watching Shikamaru carefully, well aware of his internal struggle. “Just for walks. In the village. Where people can see you.”
“You picked this colour on purpose,” he said sourly.
Temari took the collar from him, and buckled it around Kivuli’s neck with a flourish. It stood out strikingly against the pale sand and white of her coat. “I like the way it looks.”
Shikamaru knew a lost fight when he saw one. He resigned himself to walking around the village looking like an idiot with his loyal deer sparkling with every step. There were worse ways to have a happy wife, he supposed.
He shifted over enough to be able to wrap his arm around Temari’s shoulders. “You’re very troublesome.”
“So is your deer,” Temari replied without pause.
Shikamaru knew there was no point in arguing further. He rubbed his hand idly on Temari’s arm, glancing down at the fawn and her bejewelled accessory. He admitted, largely to gain back Temari’s favour, “She looks pretty.”
Temari offered him a smile, this one finally soft enough to radiate warmth.
“Not as pretty as you, of course,” Shikamaru added. “But no one else is.”
“You’re biased.”
“I’m also honest,” he lifted Kivuli onto the floor, and the fawn wandered off. Shikamaru shifted up to Temari, holding her close. “Since Kivuli is all dressed up looking pretty, why don’t you change into something nice, maybe find your own fancy jewellery, and we go out for a nice dinner?”
“With or without the deer?” Temari arched an eyebrow, but Shikamaru could see the glimmer of interest in her eyes.
“Just the two of us,” Shikamaru confirmed. “Shikadai can watch the fawn.”
“Okay,” Temari leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “Sounds fun.”
She stood up, and he called after her, “Not too much glitter!”
“I’ll wear as much glitter as I please,” she replied regally, sauntering from the room.
Shikamaru slouched into the couch with a smile. He was planning to remain there until Temari was ready to leave for dinner, but she yelled from the other side of the house, “If you promise not to bring the damn deer, you can shower with me.”
He heaved himself up. “On my way.”