When logic fails ...

Between the Moves

Temari sat on her sofa, visibly pleased that her plan had worked out far better than she had expected. She had managed to see him again, and the feeling she had been carrying around for some time had only been confirmed in that moment. A quickened heartbeat and an underlying nervousness left no doubt that she clearly felt something for this young man—perhaps even more than she was ready to admit to herself.

She glanced briefly at her phone. The bait was set; now it was up to him. Yet, to her disappointment, he still hadn't reached out about the bracelet. Not surprising, considering he still had company. Even so, she was sure he would find it soon—either him or his overexcited roommate. And then he would have to contact her, either by message—so she would at least have his number—or in person.

There was nothing she could do now but wait, and that gnawed at her. She had spent an entire week looking out for him, but he had seemed to vanish from the face of the earth. The idea of asking for his help with a trivial problem had eventually struck her as the only way to see him again anytime soon. The fact that not only his roommate but also another friend had been in the living room wasn't exactly ideal for getting to the bottom of her feelings, but still, everything seemed to be unfolding as planned.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated between her fingers. A nervous tension shot through her body for a heartbeat before fading again when she saw the sender. The message was not, as she had hoped, from Shikamaru, but only from her brother.

Kankuro: Hey sis, since we're heading out together next week anyway, I can crash on your couch, right?

Temari sighed quietly and shook her head. It was always the same with her brothers. Gaara, who never showed up anywhere and went about his business in silence. And Kankuro, who was almost the exact opposite: loud, free, always on the move. He was the only one in the family who had managed to break the chains of expectation. When he'd announced that he wanted to study acting instead of law, Temari had thought their father might have a heart attack. For three years, Kankuro had been treated like an outcast before finally being welcomed back into the Sabaku household. Sometimes she envied him for his courage and for being able to simply be who he was.
A faint smile crossed her lips as she replied.

Temari: Of course, you always can, you know that ;-) When are you getting here?
Kankuro: Not sure yet, I'll text when I leave Suna.

Temari set the phone aside and finally gave in to her growing hunger. On her way to the kitchen, the phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. It was probably just Kankuro again, asking something or changing his plans. Only after she'd put together her salad and curled back up under the blanket did she reach for it.

To her surprise, it wasn't her brother this time. Two new messages from an unknown number blinked up at her, and instantly that familiar tension returned—mixed with curiosity—as she opened the chat.

The first message was a photo. It showed her silver bracelet, resting on a hand that could only belong to Shikamaru. Her heart skipped a beat, then quickened. Her eyes moved to the next line.

Shikamaru: I think this might be yours. Want me to drop it in your mailbox tomorrow morning?

Temari stared at the screen in disbelief. He couldn't possibly be serious. How could he ignore such an obvious opportunity? She had given him the perfect excuse to see her again under neutral circumstances, and he wanted to just drop the bracelet in her mailbox without a word? Did he not feel that tension between them, so clear she could almost touch it? She decided to give him one last, unmistakable hint before admitting defeat. Because a small part of her simply couldn't—and wouldn't—let it go. Determined, she gripped her phone and began to type.