Chapter Text
It had been almost six months since the formation of the Shinobi Union. The political tensions had eased slightly, giving way to a colder, quieter kind of pressure—one carried on icy winds and buried beneath thick layers of snow.
The air was sharp and heavy with the weight of fresh snow. It muffled the world into a still, pale silence. Shikamaru moved through the forest path steadily, leaping from one snow-dusted branch to another. The trees around him were tall and bare, their skeletal limbs reaching skyward as if clawing for warmth. He tugged his cloak tighter around his shoulders, breath misting in front of him with every exhale.
The Land of Iron wasn't far now. Just a little more, and he'd make it to the Shinobi Union Headquarters.
He was mid-leap when something caught the edge of his vision—a flicker of color against the white ground below.
His eyes narrowed. He paused, balanced on a thick branch, and looked down.
There, half-hidden beneath a tree with branches heavy with snow, was a familiar figure sitting in the frost: blonde hair swept to one side, a fan strapped to her back. Temari.
“What the—?” he muttered, already leaping down.
He landed a few feet from her, boots crunching against the icy ground. “What are you doing here? Sitting under a tree in the middle of this cold? Seriously?”
Temari shot him a glare, her breath visible in the air. “I wasn’t planning to take a break in a blizzard, genius.”
She shifted, wincing as she tried to move her right foot. “I landed weird on a jump. My ankle twisted, then my calf cramped up. I can’t get it to relax. You should go ahead without me.”
Shikamaru blinked. “Huh?”
She looked away, annoyed. “I’ll catch up. Eventually.”
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let out a small sigh and pulled off his backpack, setting it down in the snow. He unclipped his outer cloak, shook off the snowflakes, and folded it neatly into the bag. Then, without saying a word, he swung the pack around so it hung across his chest like a harness.
He crouched in front of her, back turned. “Come on. I’ll carry you.”
Temari frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of the cold before your legs freeze solid. You can’t walk, and we’re still a good distance from HQ. I’ll carry you.”
“I’m not letting you—”
“You don’t have a choice,” he cut in calmly. “Sitting here isn't going to fix your leg. And we’ll both be late if I waste time arguing. Just get on already.”
Temari stared at his back, stunned into silence for a moment. Her pride prickled, but so did the cold biting into her fingers and cheeks.
Finally, with a low grumble, she reached out and looped her arms around his neck.
“Don’t drop me,” she muttered as he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and stood up with a grunt.
“You’re not exactly light,” he teased, adjusting her weight.
“Say that again and I’ll throw my fan at your head when we get there.”
“Assuming you can still move it,” he muttered with a smirk, already jumping onto the next branch.
The journey continued in silence, save for the crunch of snow and the soft sound of her breathing near his ear. Despite the cold, a quiet warmth settled between them, heavier than the snow.