What if Naruto and Temari were matched in a political marriage

The emergency council chamber in Konoha felt stifling, tension hanging thick as summer humidity. Sunlight sliced through half-drawn blinds, cutting golden bars across the polished table where Konoha's future was being bartered like market goods.

"Absolutely not." Tsunade's fist came down with enough restraint to merely crack—not shatter—the wooden surface. "We are not using our shinobi as bargaining chips."

Elder Koharu adjusted her spectacles with bony fingers. "Lady Tsunade, your sentimentality is a luxury we cannot afford. Three months since Orochimaru's attack and Sasuke's defection, and our forces remain depleted. The alliance with Suna is fragile at best."

"A marriage alliance is tradition," Elder Homura added, voice dry as old parchment. "It has secured peace between warring villages for generations."

Tsunade paced, amber eyes flashing, the soft click of her heels on hardwood punctuating each frustrated breath. "We're not at war with Suna anymore."

"Not officially," Danzo murmured from the shadows where he preferred to lurk. "But what guarantees do we have that they won't turn on us again? Their last Kazekage was assassinated and replaced by Orochimaru without anyone noticing. Their new Kazekage is a jinchūriki with a history of instability."

Tsunade halted, shoulders tense beneath her green robe. Outside, clouds crawled across the sky, momentarily dimming the chamber. The faces of previous Hokages seemed to watch her from their distant monument, judging.

"Who would you even suggest?" she finally asked, voice dangerously quiet.

Danzo's single visible eye narrowed. "The Uzumaki boy."

A heartbeat of stunned silence. Then—

"Naruto?" Tsunade whirled, her legendary strength barely contained as chakra flared around her clenched fists. "You would use him like this? He's just a child!"

"He's sixteen," Elder Koharu countered. "Of age by shinobi standards. Old enough to kill, old enough to marry."

"And," Danzo continued, "he possesses unique power that would make for a compelling offer. The Nine-Tails jinchūriki, tied to Suna through marriage—it sends a message."

"A message that we're willing to use our jinchūriki as a political weapon?" Tsunade's voice dripped venom.

"A message that we trust them with something precious," Shikaku Nara spoke up for the first time, fingers steepled before him. "I don't like it either, Lady Tsunade, but strategically speaking, it strengthens both villages against greater threats. The Akatsuki are hunting jinchūriki. An alliance through marriage between Konoha and Suna creates a unified front."

Tsunade's gaze swept the room, finding no allies. Even Shizune avoided her eyes.

"And who would Suna offer?" she asked, already dreading the answer.

Danzo allowed himself the barest hint of a smile. "We've received word that the Kazekage himself suggested his sister, Temari. Their finest strategist and wind-user."

Tsunade closed her eyes, seeing Naruto's face—his dreams, his determination. The burden he already carried. Now this.

"He returns from training with Jiraiya tomorrow," she said finally. "I want to be the one to tell him."

"Of course," Elder Homura nodded. "The treaty negotiations begin next week."

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance—a storm gathering over Konoha, much like the one brewing in Tsunade's heart.

The Suna council chamber was a stark contrast to Konoha's—all smooth sandstone and angular lines, with wide windows that let in the unforgiving desert sun. No hiding in shadows here; the harsh light exposed every reaction, every doubt.

Temari stood at rigid attention before the council, her brother Gaara seated at the head of the curved table. His pale eyes—so different since the Chuunin exams—were unreadable as he studied a scroll bearing Konoha's seal.

"You're suggesting me," she stated flatly. Not a question. She'd heard enough through the door before entering.

Gaara set down the scroll with careful precision. "Yes."

"Because I'm expendable?" The words cut through the room like her battle fan through enemies.

"Because you're valuable," Gaara corrected, voice soft but unyielding. "And because I trust you above anyone else."

The council members shifted uncomfortably. Though Gaara had earned respect as Kazekage in the months since his appointment, many still feared him. No one contradicted him directly, not anymore.

"This alliance must hold," Gaara continued. "Suna cannot afford another mistake like our alignment with Orochimaru. Konoha offers their jinchūriki as husband—"

"Naruto Uzumaki," Temari interrupted, heat rising in her cheeks. "Don't pretend he's just any jinchūriki. I've fought him. I've fought alongside him. He's—"

"Powerful," an elder councilman finished. "And volatile. Someone should keep close watch on the Nine-Tails boy."

Temari's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "So that's my role? Glorified babysitter for the demon fox?"

"Your role," Gaara said, standing slowly, "is diplomatic envoy, military strategist, and representative of Suna's interests in this critical alliance." His eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "I wouldn't ask this if I saw another way."

The words 'you're not asking' burned on Temari's tongue, but she swallowed them. Gaara had changed, yes, but challenging the Kazekage before his council would undermine everything they'd worked for.

She straightened her spine, adjusting the massive fan strapped to her back. "I understand my duty to Suna."

Gaara nodded once, the matter settled. "The Konoha delegation arrives in three days to finalize terms. You'll depart for the betrothal ceremony next week."

Temari bowed with perfect formality, masking the storm of emotions beneath. As she turned to leave, Kankuro caught her eye from his position along the wall. His painted face couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. She gave him the briefest headshake—not here, not now.

The heavy doors closed behind her with a sound like desert thunder, and only then did she allow her fingers to curl into fists.

Naruto Uzumaki. The loud-mouthed, unpredictable boy with too much power and too little control. The one who had somehow changed Gaara when no one else could reach him.

And now, her future husband.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN I'M GETTING MARRIED?!"

Naruto's voice echoed off the walls of the Hokage's office, making the windows rattle. He stood before Tsunade's desk, body vibrating with tension, blue eyes wide with disbelief and betrayal.

Tsunade had expected this reaction. Had dreaded it. But facing the raw hurt in those eyes—eyes that had looked up to her, trusted her—was worse than she'd imagined.

"It's a political alliance," she began again, keeping her voice steady. "With Suna—"

"I know what a political alliance is!" Naruto cut her off, hands balling into fists at his sides. "But why me? Why now? I just got back! I haven't even unpacked! I haven't even seen everyone yet! I haven't—" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. "I haven't even started looking for Sasuke again."

The name fell between them like a physical weight. Tsunade saw Jiraiya shift uncomfortably by the window where he'd been uncharacteristically silent since delivering his student back to Konoha only to walk into this ambush.

"Naruto," Tsunade began more gently, "the village needs this alliance. After everything that's happened—"

"So find someone else!" Naruto slammed his palms on her desk, leaning forward. "What about all those fancy clans? Isn't that what they're for? Political stuff?"

"The Hyūga wouldn't risk their bloodline," Shizune offered quietly from her position by the door. "And the other clans—"

"Don't have what you have," Tsunade finished, meeting his gaze directly.

Understanding dawned in Naruto's eyes, followed by a deeper hurt. "You mean the Nine-Tails," he said flatly. "You're trading me because I'm a jinchūriki."

"We're not trading you," Tsunade corrected sharply. "This is an honor, traditionally. The bride is the Kazekage's sister, Temari."

Naruto's eyes widened. "Temari? The scary fan girl with the ponytails?" His hand unconsciously moved to his chest, where he'd once felt the cutting edge of her wind techniques during the Chuunin exams.

"She's a jōnin-level kunoichi and Suna's premier strategist," Tsunade said. "This match shows the highest respect between villages."

Naruto turned away abruptly, facing the wide windows that overlooked Konoha—the village he'd sworn to protect, to lead someday. The village asking him to give up his freedom before he'd even had a chance to truly find it.

"What if I refuse?" he asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Tsunade exchanged glances with Jiraiya, who finally pushed away from the wall to approach his student.

"Kid," he said, placing a heavy hand on Naruto's shoulder, "sometimes being a shinobi means making sacrifices for your village. Sometimes bigger than blood or life." His voice took on a gravity that Naruto rarely heard from his usually irreverent master. "I know it's not fair. But this alliance could protect both villages against the Akatsuki. Against Orochimaru. Maybe even help us get Sasuke back someday."

At the mention of Sasuke, Naruto's shoulders tensed then slumped. Tsunade watched the internal battle play out across his expressive face—anger, betrayal, resignation, and finally, reluctant determination.

"Fine," he said at last, turning back to face them. "I'll do it. For the village. For our friends." His blue eyes hardened with resolve. "But I'm not giving up on becoming Hokage. And I'm not giving up on bringing Sasuke home. Ever."

Tsunade nodded, relieved and heartbroken at once. "The betrothal ceremony is in Suna next week. We leave in three days."

Naruto nodded stiffly, then turned without another word and left, the door closing with surprising gentleness behind him.

"He's growing up," Jiraiya observed into the heavy silence.

"Too fast," Tsunade murmured, reaching for the sake bottle in her bottom drawer. "And not by choice."

The sun bled crimson across Konoha as Naruto stood atop the Hokage Monument, wind whipping his blonde hair. From here, he could see the entire village—the village he loved, the village he'd just agreed to leave to honor a marriage to a woman he barely knew.

Temari of the Sand. He remembered her from the Chuunin exams—fierce, intimidating, precise in her attacks. Later, during the Sasuke retrieval mission, she'd fought alongside them, displaying loyalty and power. But as a wife? The very word felt foreign in his mind.

Three months ago, he'd failed to bring Sasuke home. Now, he was being sent away himself. The irony wasn't lost on him.

"I thought I'd find you here," Jiraiya's voice came from behind him.

Naruto didn't turn. "Did you know? When we were training?"

A heavy sigh. "No. I would have warned you if I had."

Naruto nodded, accepting the truth in his master's voice. They stood in silence for several minutes, watching the village lights begin to flicker on as dusk deepened.

"She probably thinks I'm some kind of monster," Naruto finally said. "Everyone knows what I am now."

"She's the Kazekage's sister," Jiraiya reminded him. "She grew up with Gaara. I doubt you scare her."

"That's not the point!" Naruto exploded, turning to face his teacher. "She's being forced into this too! She probably hates the idea of being stuck with me!"

Jiraiya's weathered face softened. "Then show her who you really are. The same way you showed everyone else in this village. The same way you showed Gaara himself." He gestured expansively at the village below. "You changed minds here. You can do it again."

Naruto turned back to the view, eyes finding the distant gates of Konoha—the threshold he'd cross to a future he hadn't chosen.

"I will be Hokage someday," he said, voice carrying on the wind. "I haven't given up. I'll never give up. Even even with a wife who doesn't want me."

The last rays of sun caught in his hair like fire, and for a moment, standing tall against the darkening sky, Jiraiya saw not the boy but the man he would become—the leader he was destined to be, with or without the bonds of political marriage.

The storm was coming. But perhaps, like all storms, it would bring not just destruction, but renewal.

Heat rose from the desert floor in shimmering waves, distorting the horizon like a genjutsu. The Konoha delegation trudged the final stretch toward Suna's imposing sandstone walls, sweat carving rivulets through the dust caked on their faces. Naruto's orange and black jacket hung open, his headband wrapped around his wrist instead of his forehead where sweat made the metal band slide uncomfortably.

"How does anyone live in this?" he muttered, squinting against the relentless sun. "It's like walking through Choji's spiciest curry."

Sakura flicked his ear, though the gesture lacked her usual force. "Show some respect. You're about to meet your future wife."

The word 'wife' hit him like a physical blow. Three days of travel hadn't made the concept any less surreal.

"Maybe she'll take one look at him and call the whole thing off," Kakashi remarked lightly, eye never leaving the pages of his book despite the brutal heat.

"Not helping, Kakashi," Tsunade growled. Her formal Hokage robes were impractical for desert travel, but diplomatic protocol demanded their use when approaching the village gates. "Naruto, remember everything we discussed. This isn't just about you. This is—"

"About peace between villages, strengthening alliances, protecting against Akatsuki," Naruto recited flatly. "Yeah, yeah."

Tsunade's amber eyes softened. "It's not fair, I know. But sometimes—"

"The small sacrifice of one serves the greater good of many," Naruto finished, but his usual exuberance had been scraped away like topsoil in a sandstorm. "Pervy Sage already gave me the speech."

Ahead, Suna's massive gates parted, releasing a blast of even hotter air. A small delegation in formal Sand shinobi attire stood waiting, faces impassive beneath wraps and hoods that shielded them from the punishing sun.

Naruto's stomach knotted. Somewhere in that group was Temari—the woman who would become his wife in three days' time.

The Kazekage's audience chamber was a study in opposites. While outside burned with merciless heat, inside remained cool, a testament to Suna's architectural ingenuity. Circular windows positioned high on the walls cast geometric patterns of light across the polished stone floor. In those patterns stood two groups, as rigidly separated as oil and water.

Gaara sat alone on a raised platform, the formal Kazekage robes and hat lending gravity to his slight frame. Gone was the bloodthirsty boy who'd terrorized the Chunin exams; in his place sat a leader radiating quiet authority. To his right stood Temari and Kankuro, to his left the Suna council members—old men with faces weathered by wind and war.

Across from them, the Konoha delegation bowed with practiced formality. Naruto, awkwardly following a beat behind, caught Temari's eye as he straightened. Her face revealed nothing, but her fingers twitched almost imperceptibly at her side.

"Konoha honors Suna with its presence," Gaara stated, his voice still carrying that eerie calm that made the hair on Naruto's neck stand up.

"Suna honors Konoha with its hospitality," Tsunade replied with equal formality.

The ritualistic greetings continued, words flowing back and forth like an elaborate dance while Naruto fidgeted, sweat beading at his hairline despite the cool air. His eyes kept returning to Temari. She stood tall and proud in formal attire he'd never seen her wear before—deep purple robes embroidered with gold thread that caught the light when she moved. Her blonde hair remained in its four distinctive ponytails, but adorned with gold ornaments that clinked softly when she inclined her head.

She looked untouchable. Foreign.

And completely unenthusiastic about her impending marriage.

"We present Naruto Uzumaki, son of Konoha, bearer of great power, as offering in this alliance," Tsunade was saying, gesturing for Naruto to step forward.

He did, nearly tripping over his own sandals. Temari's lips twitched—a smirk? A grimace? Impossible to tell.

"We present Temari of the Desert, daughter of the Fourth Kazekage, sister to the Fifth, master strategist and wind jutsu specialist, as offering in return," one of the elders announced.

Temari stepped forward with the fluid grace of a trained kunoichi, stopping exactly three paces from Naruto. This close, he could see the faint freckles dusting her nose and cheeks—marks from a life under harsh sun. Her eyes, teal as a desert oasis, assessed him coolly.

"I know you," Gaara's voice broke the tense silence, drawing everyone's attention. "Naruto Uzumaki."

The formal protocol seemed to shift as Gaara stood, descending the three steps to stand on equal footing with the delegations. The council members exchanged uneasy glances.

"Yeah," Naruto replied, too thrown off to remember the scripted responses Tsunade had drilled into him. "Been a while, Gaara."

Something almost like a smile ghosted across Gaara's pale face. "You've grown stronger."

"So have you. Kazekage before any of us made jonin—that's pretty impressive."

The council members looked scandalized at such casual address of their leader, but Gaara nodded as if receiving expected confirmation.

"This union," Gaara continued, glancing between Naruto and his sister, "is not merely political. It is symbolic." He turned to address both delegations now. "Like Suna and Konoha, these two possess complementary strengths. Together, they will demonstrate what our villages can accomplish in true alliance."

Temari's eyes widened fractionally—this wasn't part of the script. Even Kankuro looked surprised.

"I entrust my sister's safety to you, Naruto Uzumaki," Gaara continued, his pale green eyes intense. "As I would entrust my own."

The weight of those words hung in the air. Everyone present knew what Gaara had been—what he still contained. For him to speak of trust, of entrusting family to another jinchūriki

Naruto straightened, something in Gaara's confidence cutting through his resentment. "I'll protect her with my life," he said, the words emerging with unexpected conviction.

Temari's eyes narrowed. "I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself," she said, the first words she'd spoken since they entered.

Her voice was lower than Naruto remembered, with a sandpaper edge that somehow matched the desert outside. Several council members looked aghast at her interruption, but Gaara merely inclined his head.

"Of course," he acknowledged. "That is why you were chosen."

The formal meeting continued, but something had shifted—an invisible current now running beneath the ceremonial words, linking the three young shinobi in a triangle of shared understanding that excluded everyone else in the room.

"Is that really how you eat in Konoha?" Temari's question cut through the formal dinner conversation like one of her wind slices.

Naruto froze, ramen noodles dangling from his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Around them, conversation at the long banquet table stuttered to a halt. Forty pairs of eyes—Suna officials, Konoha representatives, and various dignitaries—turned to watch the first direct exchange between the betrothed couple.

Naruto slurped the hanging noodles with a noisy finish. "Huh?"

"You're spilling broth on your formal robes," Temari pointed out, her own chopsticks delicately poised above her barely-touched plate. "And that's your third bowl."

He glanced down at the dark spots speckling his borrowed formal attire. "Oh. Uh"

Across the table, Sakura buried her face in her hands. Kakashi appeared to be smiling beneath his mask, eyes crinkled in amused resignation. Tsunade's sake cup seemed to have mysteriously doubled in size since the meal began.

"Sorry," Naruto muttered, setting down his chopsticks. "The food is really good. Been traveling for days, y'know?"

"If you'd conserved your energy instead of racing ahead and doubling back repeatedly, perhaps you wouldn't be so ravenous," Temari observed.

Naruto's head jerked up. "You were watching us approach?"

A delicate shrug lifted her shoulders. "Strategic assessment. It's my job to know who enters our village and how they conduct themselves."

"More ramen for the honored guest?" a server interjected, bowl already in hand.

"Actually," Kankuro cut in from his seat beside Temari, "why don't we have some entertainment? Suna's puppet theater is renowned throughout the nations."

The diversion worked. Conversation resumed as performers entered, manipulating elaborate puppets in a traditional story about the founding of Suna. Naruto, however, found himself stealing glances at Temari, who watched the performance with the same analytical gaze she'd directed at him earlier.

As the performance reached its climax—a dramatic battle between the First Kazekage and a giant scorpion—Naruto leaned slightly toward Temari.

"Hey," he whispered. "I really didn't mean to make a mess."

"It's fine," she replied, not looking at him. "At least you're honest."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her eyes flicked to his, hard as jade. "It means most political marriages involve more performance. Pretending to be something you're not."

"I'm not much good at pretending," Naruto admitted.

"No," she agreed, something almost like approval in her tone. "I suppose you're not."

The puppet show ended with thunderous applause. As servers cleared dishes, an elderly Suna councilwoman leaned around Temari to address Naruto directly.

"Tell us, young man, what does Konoha teach about proper conduct for a husband? Our Temari has been raised with Suna's traditions, but we're curious about yours."

The trap was so obvious Naruto nearly laughed. Beside him, he felt Tsunade tense, prepared to intervene.

"Actually," he said, scratching his head, "I grew up without parents. Don't know much about that stuff." He flashed a grin that he didn't entirely feel. "But I do know you should respect your precious people and keep your promises. That's my ninja way."

The councilwoman blinked, clearly not expecting such a direct answer. Beside her, Temari had gone very still.

"No parents?" another dignitary asked, voice dripping with false sympathy. "How unfortunate."

"Not really," Naruto shrugged. "Made me who I am."

"And who exactly is that?" a third voice pressed, eyes calculating.

Before Naruto could answer, Gaara's quiet voice silenced the table. "Someone who changed the course of my life." His pale eyes swept the gathering. "Someone Suna is fortunate to welcome into our family."

The conversation shifted, but not before Naruto caught the speculative glance Temari cast between her brother and himself.

Midnight found Naruto in a secluded training ground behind the Kazekage's residence—a sunken arena surrounded by high walls that blocked the worst of the desert wind. Here, sand had been packed firm for footing, and training dummies made from wrapped cactus wood stood at various distances.

He needed to move, to burn off the restless energy that had been building through days of formal negotiations and tonight's stilted dinner. His muscles ached for release, his mind for the clarity that only came through physical exertion.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen Narutos appeared with puffs of smoke, moonlight glinting off their determined faces. Without a word, they launched into a synchronized training routine—first taijutsu, bodies weaving through forms Jiraiya had drilled into him over three years, then progressing to more complex chakra manipulation.

Sweat beaded on his brow despite the night's chill. The desert heat vanished after sunset, leaving a bone-deep cold that actually felt good against his overheated skin. He pushed harder, directing his clones into combat formations, feeling the burn in his muscles, the familiar tingle as chakra flowed through his network.

He didn't notice the observer until one clone vanished unexpectedly, disrupting his concentration. He spun, kunai instantly in hand, to find Temari perched atop the arena wall, her giant fan propped beside her.

Moonlight transformed her, leaching color from her formal robes, turning her skin alabaster and her eyes to mirrors that reflected the stars. She'd removed the gold ornaments from her hair, leaving it to stir gently in the night breeze.

"You dispelled my clone," Naruto accused, lowering his kunai.

"Testing your awareness," she replied, unrepentant. "You failed."

The remaining clones poofed away as Naruto strode toward the wall, craning his neck to look up at her. "I was concentrating."

"Enemies won't wait for you to finish concentrating." She jumped down with effortless grace, landing silently on the packed sand. "Though I'm surprised. Your chakra control has improved."

"You've been watching long enough to tell that?"

"Long enough." She reached for her fan, unfolding it with a practiced flick that released a small gust of wind. "Want a real opponent?"

Naruto blinked, then grinned—the first genuine smile he'd managed since arriving in Suna. "You sure? Wouldn't want to mess up your fancy outfit."

Temari's answering smile held a predatory edge. "Worried about me? That's sweet." In one fluid motion, she swept the fan in a horizontal arc.

Naruto barely dodged the blade of wind that sliced through the space where he'd stood, leaving a groove in the packed sand. "Hey! No warning?"

"Enemies don't give warnings either," she called, already pivoting into her next attack.

What followed was unlike any sparring match Naruto had experienced. Temari fought with brutal precision, each movement economical, each strike calculated. She didn't have Sakura's raw power or Neji's speed, but her tactical mind made her a formidable opponent—always three steps ahead, forcing him to react rather than act.

For his part, Naruto fought with his usual unpredictability, mixing taijutsu with shadow clones and substitution jutsu. Where Temari was a scalpel, he was a hurricane—all explosive energy and unexpected angles.

Neither used their full power—this was testing, not destroying—but the intensity ramped up with each exchange. Sand flew, wind howled, and the air crackled with the electricity of two powerful shinobi taking each other's measure.

Twenty minutes in, both breathing hard, they reached a stalemate—her fan at his throat, his kunai at hers.

"Not bad," she conceded, chest heaving. "For a Leaf ninja."

"You're pretty scary," he replied, grinning despite the metal pressing against his jugular. "For a princess."

Her eyes flashed. "I'm not a princess."

"Could've fooled me with that attitude."

They broke apart, circling warily. Temari's formal robes were indeed disheveled now, torn at one sleeve, smudged with dust. Her hair had partly fallen from its ties, framing her flushed face in golden disarray.

Naruto knew he looked no better—probably worse—but he couldn't remember the last time a fight had felt this invigorating. There was no killing intent here, just the pure joy of testing himself against a worthy opponent.

Temari seemed to sense the shift in his mood. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he said, still grinning. "Just thinking I could get used to this."

"To losing?"

"To fighting with you instead of against you."

Something unreadable flickered across her face. She folded her fan with a snap, sliding it into the harness on her back. "You're holding back."

It wasn't a question, but Naruto nodded anyway. "So are you."

"Smart. We destroy this training ground, and the wedding's off." She brushed sand from her robes, eyeing him speculatively. "Though that might be what you want."

Naruto's smile faded. "That what you want?"

She didn't answer directly. Instead, she walked to the edge of the arena, where a stone bench provided a view of the starscape above. After a moment's hesitation, Naruto followed, dropping onto the bench beside her but leaving careful space between them.

The silence stretched, broken only by the distant whistle of wind through Suna's protective cliffs. Above, stars blazed with an intensity never visible in Konoha, where trees and buildings and cloud cover muted their light. Here, they pierced the velvet darkness like thousands of glittering kunai.

"Why did you agree to this?" Temari finally asked, eyes on the stars.

Naruto leaned back, considering. "Same reason as you, probably. My village needed it."

"You could have refused."

"You didn't."

Her mouth twisted. "My situation is different."

"Because you're the Kazekage's sister? That's just another kind of burden." Naruto kicked at the sand beneath his feet. "At least you have family."

"Family that used me as a political bargaining chip," she pointed out.

"Family that trusts you to represent them," he countered. "That's something."

Temari studied him silently, her face illuminated by moonlight that softened its sharp angles. "You're not what I expected," she finally said.

"What did you expect?"

"A loud-mouthed brat with more power than sense."

Naruto laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm still that too." He sobered, meeting her gaze directly. "And you're not what I expected either."

"No? What did the mighty Naruto Uzumaki expect from his desert bride?" The sarcasm couldn't quite mask genuine curiosity.

"Someone colder," he admitted. "More stuck-up. Less" He gestured vaguely at the training ground, the evidence of their sparring session etched in the sand.

"Less willing to kick your ass?" she supplied, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

"Exactly."

Another silence fell, more comfortable than the last. The night air had grown colder, and Naruto noticed Temari suppress a shiver. Without thinking, he shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to her.

She stared at the orange and black garment as if it might bite. "I'm fine."

"You're cold," he insisted. "And I run hot. Always have."

After a moment's hesitation, she accepted the jacket, draping it around her shoulders. It swallowed her smaller frame, the orange garish against her elegant purple robes—a visual representation of their mismatched pairing.

"They say you have a demon inside you," she stated abruptly, her voice carrying in the still night air.

Naruto tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. For an instant, chakra surged, turning the blue irises crimson before he regained control.

Temari didn't flinch. "So does my brother," she continued, her gaze steady. "Is that why they chose you?"

The question hung between them, weighted with implications—about power, about worth, about what made a suitable political offering.

Moonlight pooled in the space between them on the bench—a silver gulf neither had yet crossed—as the desert night held its breath, waiting for his answer.

Dawn painted the borderlands in gold and amber, the rising sun suspended between two worlds—neither fully Fire Country nor Wind Country, but something in-between. A vast pavilion of crimson and ivory silk rippled like water in the morning breeze, anchored by massive posts driven deep into the earth. Around it, shinobi from both villages worked in synchronized chaos, completing final preparations with the precision of a well-executed mission.

Naruto stood at the edge of this controlled storm, fidgeting in ceremonial robes that felt too stiff, too formal—a costume for someone else's life. The white and orange garments had been specially commissioned, embroidered with spiraling patterns that subtly incorporated both Uzumaki swirls and Leaf village symbols. Heavy ceremonial sandals pinched his feet.

"Stop. Touching. Everything." Sakura slapped his hand away from yet another attempt to adjust his collar. Her own formal attire—a deep red kimono that matched her hair—rustled as she circled him like a critical hawk. "And stand still!"

"I can't help it!" Naruto protested, resisting the urge to scratch beneath layers of ceremonial fabric. "How do people wear this stuff? I feel like I'm being strangled by a fancy tablecloth!"

Sakura's expression softened fractionally. "You look good. Different." She reached up, adjusting his headband—the one piece of his usual attire he'd been allowed to keep. "Almost like a proper husband."

"Don't remind me," he muttered, eyes drawn to the opposite side of the pavilion where Suna shinobi clustered, their forms blurring in the heat already rising from the desert floor.

Somewhere among them was Temari. His bride. The thought still landed like a kunai in his chest—sharp, unexpected, impossible to ignore.

"Naruto."

He turned to find Kakashi leaning against a pillar, orange book conspicuously absent for once. His former sensei looked strangely formal in dark blue ceremonial robes, though he'd refused to remove his mask even for this occasion.

"Walk with me," Kakashi said, nodding toward a stand of twisted desert trees providing rare shade.

Sakura released him with a warning look that promised pain if he returned disheveled. As they walked, Naruto noticed the subtle security perimeter—ANBU from Konoha stationed at strategic intervals, Suna's elite forces mirroring their positions opposite. Two villages, still not entirely trusting, despite today's symbolic union.

"Having second thoughts?" Kakashi asked once they'd reached the relative privacy of the trees.

Naruto kicked at the sandy soil. "Would it matter if I was?"

"Probably not," his former sensei acknowledged with brutal honesty. "But it might help to talk about them anyway."

The morning breeze carried scents of sage and sun-baked earth, punctuated by the sharper notes of ceremonial incense drifting from the pavilion. For a moment, Naruto was tempted to run—to flee into that vast in-between space where he belonged to neither village, beholden to no one's plans.

Instead, he sighed, shoulders slumping beneath ornate fabric. "I hardly know her, Kakashi-sensei."

"Most marriages between shinobi start that way," Kakashi replied, his visible eye crinkling slightly. "Even the non-political ones."

"What if she hates me forever? What if we make each other miserable? What if—"

"What if you're exactly what each other needs?" Kakashi interrupted gently.

Naruto snorted. "Yeah, right. She's smart, strategic, and scary as hell. I'm" He gestured at himself, words failing.

"You're Naruto Uzumaki," Kakashi finished, voice suddenly serious. "The most unpredictable, determined, and loyal shinobi I've ever trained. And those qualities matter more in a marriage than you might think."

Sunlight filtered through sparse leaves, dappling the ground with shifting patterns. Behind them, the preparations had reached fever pitch, voices calling back and forth in a choreography of final checks.

"I don't know how to be a husband," Naruto confessed, the word still foreign on his tongue.

"No one does at first," Kakashi said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But if there's one thing you've proven, it's that you learn fast when it matters."

"Is that what marriage is? Another thing to learn?"

"It's a mission with no end date and constantly changing parameters," Kakashi replied, a smile evident even beneath his mask. "Adapt, communicate, protect each other's backs. Sound familiar?"

Despite himself, Naruto smiled. "When you put it that way"

"Just remember," Kakashi added, his tone lighter now, "unlike most missions, this one doesn't have a clear success condition. It's about the journey, not the destination."

"That sounds suspiciously like something from your perverted books, sensei."

Kakashi's eye widened in mock offense. "I'll have you know marriage advice is in volume three, which is a cultural exploration of—"

A sharp whistle cut through the air—the signal for final positions.

Naruto took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "Thanks, Kakashi-sensei."

His former teacher nodded, pride evident in his gaze. "You're ready for this, Naruto. More than you know."

Across the pavilion, behind a screen of woven gold and crimson threads, Temari sat perfectly still as attendants made final adjustments to her bridal attire. The ceremonial kimono weighed heavy on her shoulders—multiple layers of white, gold, and deep purple silk embroidered with wind patterns and the symbols of Suna. Her hair had been arranged in an elaborate style adorned with gold pins that chimed softly with each minute movement.

She felt more like a sacrificial offering than a bride.

"You know, you could try smiling," Kankuro remarked from where he lounged against a stack of cushions, already looking uncomfortable in his own formal attire. The traditional face paint he wore had been modified to incorporate ceremonial patterns, making him look both familiar and strange. "It's supposed to be a happy occasion."

"I'll smile when you stop being an idiot," she replied without heat, years of sibling banter providing the only normal thing in this surreal day.

Kankuro grinned, then sobered. "He's not what I expected."

"Naruto?" Temari raised an eyebrow, careful not to disturb the attendants working on securing a gold ornament to her obi.

"Yeah. After watching him these past days" Kankuro shrugged. "He's got actual substance under all that loud energy."

"You're just saying that because he beat you at shogi yesterday."

"He cheated!" Kankuro protested.

"He improvised," Temari corrected, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. "There's a difference."

The final pin slid into place. The attendants stepped back, bowing deeply before retreating through a side opening, leaving the siblings alone for a rare private moment.

Kankuro studied his sister, expression uncharacteristically serious. "You going to be okay with this, Tem?"

She met his gaze steadily. "Do I have a choice?"

"We all have choices," he replied, unexpectedly philosophical. "Even when we don't like the options."

Outside, drums began a slow, rhythmic beat, signaling the ceremony would soon begin. Temari felt each percussion like a physical blow against her ribcage.

Kankuro pushed off from the cushions, adjusting his formal robes with obvious discomfort. "Listen, before we go out there" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I had a little chat with your future husband this morning."

Temari's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Kankuro, what did you do?"

He raised his hands defensively. "Nothing! Just a friendly big-brother warning about what would happen if he ever hurt you."

"I can fight my own battles!"

"I know," he grinned, "that's what I told him. Said if he crossed you, you'd probably kill him before I got the chance."

Despite everything, Temari laughed—a short, surprised sound that seemed to lighten the weight of her ceremonial robes.

Kankuro's expression softened. "He said something interesting, though."

"What?"

"That he'd never give you reason to fight that particular battle." Kankuro shrugged, trying for nonchalance and not quite succeeding. "Said protecting his precious people was his 'ninja way' or something."

Temari remembered Naruto's words from their night in the training ground. Remembered the fierce conviction in blue eyes briefly flashed with crimson. "He says that a lot."

"Yeah, well," Kankuro moved toward the screen that would soon be drawn back, "from what Gaara tells me, he actually means it."

The drums outside quickened their tempo. It was time.

Kankuro paused, hand on the screen's edge. "Just give him a chance, Tem. Not for Suna, not for the alliance. For you."

Before she could respond, he was gone, slipping out to take his position. Temari closed her eyes, centering herself the way she did before battle. Because that's what this was, wasn't it? Just another kind of warfare, with diplomatic treaties instead of kunai, political alliances instead of jutsu.

When she opened her eyes, she was ready, her face a perfect mask of ceremonial dignity. Whatever storm waited beyond that screen, she would face it standing.

The ceremony itself passed in a blur of ritual and symbol. Beneath the vast pavilion, representatives from both villages formed a living corridor, through which Naruto and Temari approached each other from opposite sides. The space between them—that neutral ground—seemed to stretch endlessly, every step weighted with diplomatic significance.

Tsunade and Gaara waited at the center point, both Kages resplendent in formal robes. Their faces reflected the gravity of the moment—this wasn't just a wedding but a rewriting of history between their villages.

Naruto barely registered the ceremonial words, the ritual exchange of sake cups, the binding of hands with cloth woven of both Konoha and Suna fibers. His entire focus narrowed to Temari—to the perfect stillness of her expression, the precision of her movements, the single moment when their eyes met over joined cups and he glimpsed something raw and unguarded beneath her ceremonial mask.

Together, they turned to face the gathered witnesses. A roar went up from both sides—not quite celebration, not quite approval, but acknowledgment of something momentous. A shift in the world's foundation.

"I present to you," Tsunade announced, voice carrying to the farthest corners of the pavilion, "Naruto and Temari Uzumaki, united in bonds that strengthen the alliance between Leaf and Sand."

Naruto felt Temari's hand tense in his at the name. They hadn't discussed that part—which name they would share. Another decision made for them, it seemed.

The celebration spilled outward from the pavilion, music and food and carefully orchestrated mingling of villages. Dignitaries approached the newly wedded couple with congratulations that sounded more like political assessments. Through it all, Naruto maintained a surprising dignity, his usual exuberance tempered by something new—a sense of purpose, of responsibility.

He caught Sakura watching him with a mixture of pride and worry. Caught Shikamaru's measuring gaze from where the tactician lounged with uncharacteristic alertness. Caught Kakashi's subtle nod of approval.

Beside him, Temari navigated the social battlefield with lethal grace, her responses perfectly calibrated, her smile a weapon of diplomatic precision. Yet beneath their joined hands—still bound by ceremonial cloth—Naruto felt the slight tremor she concealed from everyone else.

"You're doing great," he murmured during a rare moment between well-wishers.

Her eyes flicked to his, surprised. "So are you," she replied, equally quiet. "They didn't expect that."

"I'm full of surprises," he grinned, a flash of his usual self breaking through the ceremonial facade.

Something almost like amusement curved her lips. "I'm beginning to see that."

The moment shattered as Kankuro appeared, his face uncharacteristically serious despite the ceremonial paint. "Gaara needs you both," he said under his breath. "Now."

They extracted themselves from the celebration with practiced excuses, following Kankuro to a smaller tent set apart from the main pavilion. Inside, they found Gaara, Tsunade, and several intelligence officers huddled around a map spread across a low table. The festive sounds outside seemed suddenly distant, muffled by the weight of whatever had drawn such concern across the Kages' faces.

"What's happened?" Temari asked, instantly alert, hand reaching for a battle fan that wasn't there in her ceremonial attire.

Tsunade looked up, the lines of her face deepened by concern. "Akatsuki movement detected along the northern border. Multiple teams, moving with purpose."

"That's not their usual pattern," Temari observed, immediately shifting to tactical assessment. "They typically operate in pairs."

"Exactly," Gaara confirmed, his pale eyes meeting Naruto's. "Intelligence suggests they're mobilizing for something significant."

The implications hung heavy in the air. Akatsuki hunted jinchūriki—and here at this ceremony stood two villages, each offering their jinchūriki host in a public, well-advertised event.

"You think it's a trap," Naruto said, understanding dawning. "They knew we'd both be here."

"It's a possibility we can't ignore," Tsunade acknowledged. "The celebration needs to end. Delegations return to their villages immediately."

"But the alliance—" Temari began.

"Stands," Gaara interrupted firmly. "This threat is precisely why we formed it."

Orders were issued with brisk efficiency. The celebration would be cut short with diplomatic excuses about border security—true enough without causing panic. Essential personnel would remain to coordinate joint response while others escorted dignitaries to safety.

"What about us?" Naruto asked, gesturing between himself and Temari.

The Kages exchanged looks heavy with unspoken communication.

"You proceed as planned," Tsunade finally said. "To the prepared quarters at the border outpost. It's defensible, and your presence there maintains the appearance of normalcy while we gather more intelligence."

"You're using us as bait," Temari stated flatly.

"We're using the appearance of normality as a strategic advantage," Gaara corrected gently. "While mobilizing full defenses."

"Besides," Kankuro added with forced lightness, "what better protection than two villages' worth of elite shinobi guarding their political investment?"

Naruto felt Temari's tension in the subtle shift of her posture, the fractional narrowing of her eyes. Without thinking, he placed a hand on her arm—the first unscripted touch between them.

"We can handle this," he said, certainty in his voice. "Together."

Something flickered in her eyes—assessment, calculation, and perhaps a touch of surprised respect. After a moment, she nodded. "We need full intelligence reports, defensive positioning maps, and communication protocols," she said, already shifting into tactical mode. "If we're the center of this strategy, we should know every angle."

Tsunade's lips curved into a small, approving smile. "Already being prepared for you at the outpost."

The tent flap opened, admitting a harried-looking Shizune. "Preparations complete, Lady Tsunade. Diplomatic withdrawal begins in ten minutes."

What followed was a masterclass in strategic deception. The celebration wound down with speeches about new beginnings and mutual cooperation. Gifts were hastily exchanged, farewells slightly rushed but maintaining all proper protocol. Through it all, the newly married couple stood at the center, smiling and nodding while their minds churned with battle assessments and defensive calculations.

By sunset, the once-bustling borderland had emptied to a skeleton crew of elite shinobi disguised as ceremonial guards and clean-up personnel. The massive pavilion remained standing—a brightly colored target against the darkening sky.

The border outpost perched on a rocky outcropping overlooking the transitional landscape where Fire Country's forests gradually surrendered to Wind Country's deserts. Built of stone and reinforced with chakra-infused materials, it offered both defensive positioning and symbolic neutrality—one half technically in each country.

Naruto stood at the window of the uppermost chamber, watching as concealed security teams took positions in the deepening twilight. The ceremonial robes had been exchanged for practical shinobi attire, though he'd been advised to leave his distinctive orange jacket behind. "Too visible," Kakashi had noted before departing with most of the Konoha delegation.

Behind him, Temari spread maps across a large table, weighted with kunai at the corners. She too had changed, her battle fan once again strapped to her back like an extension of her spine. The elaborate hairstyle had been dismantled, returned to her practical four ponytails.

"They've positioned sensor-types here, here, and here," she noted, marking locations with precise taps of her finger. "Combined with Suna's earth-style users creating underground detection fields, we should have advance warning of any approach."

Naruto turned from the window, studying the maps upside down from his position. "What about aerial approaches? That's how I'd come in."

Temari's eyebrows rose fractionally—surprise at his tactical input or agreement with his assessment, he couldn't tell. "Barrier jutsu extends in a dome configuration," she replied, sketching the shape in the air above the map. "Anything larger than a bird triggers alerts."

The room fell into silence broken only by the occasional scratch of Temari's pencil as she annotated defensive positions. Naruto paced restlessly, energy vibrating beneath his skin like always, but focused now, contained.

"We should sleep in shifts," Temari finally said, straightening from her tactical assessment. "Four hours each. I'll take first watch."

"I'm not tired," Naruto countered, which wasn't entirely true—the day's events had drained him more than he wanted to admit—but the thought of lying down, of closing his eyes while danger might be approaching

"That wasn't a suggestion," Temari replied, her tone brooking no argument. "Tactical efficiency requires rest cycles. You're no use to anyone if you're exhausted when action comes."

The room they occupied had been prepared for a wedding night, not a potential siege. Silk cushions and low couches had been arranged with clear romantic intent. A large futon dominated one corner, decorated with flower petals that now seemed absurdly out of place.

Naruto's eyes skipped over it, a flush heating his cheeks that had nothing to do with tactical assessments. From Temari's carefully averted gaze, she'd noticed the same incongruity.

"I'll take the floor," he said quickly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, practical as ever. "The bed is large enough. We're conserving energy, not observing formalities."

She crossed to the window, taking up his previous position. "Four hours. Then we switch."

Naruto hesitated, then moved to the futon, swiping away flower petals with an awkward gesture before lying down fully clothed, even keeping his sandals on. The ceiling above him bore intricate patterns—half Leaf symbols, half Sand—another symbolic representation of their union.

He thought he'd lie awake, restless with awareness of danger and the strange new reality of being married. Instead, exhaustion claimed him almost immediately, the day's emotional and physical toll exacting payment in full.

His last conscious thought was that Temari stood silhouetted against the window like a sentinel, her fan unfolded just enough to catch moonlight along its edge—a sliver of deadly intent in the darkness.

"Wake up."

Temari's voice pulled him from dreamless sleep, her hand firm on his shoulder. Naruto bolted upright, instantly alert, kunai appearing in his hand from reflex alone.

"Your shift," she said simply, stepping back. No emergency, then.

Outside, the moon had shifted position but still hung bright in a cloudless sky. The outpost remained quiet, no alarms triggered, no signs of the perceived threat materializing.

Naruto rubbed sleep from his eyes, watching as Temari moved to the futon he'd vacated. Unlike him, she removed her sandals, placing them precisely beside the bed, though she kept her clothes and weapons in place. She lay down with military efficiency, one hand still resting on her fan.

"Nothing to report," she said, answering his unasked question. "Perimeter secure. Regular check-ins from all positions."

He nodded, taking up her previous position by the window. The night air carried scents of pine from the Fire Country side, mingling with the drier notes of desert sage from Wind Country's direction. That peculiar in-between again—not fully one or the other.

Like us, he thought, glancing at Temari's form on the futon.

Minutes stretched into an hour. Naruto maintained vigilance, but his thoughts drifted inevitably to the strange new reality he inhabited. Married. A husband. To someone who had been practically a stranger three days ago.

"Stop thinking so loudly," Temari's voice cut through the darkness. "I can hear you from here."

He turned to find her propped up on one elbow, watching him with eyes that gleamed in the moonlight.

"Sorry," he said. "Thought you were asleep."

"Hard to sleep when your chakra is swirling like that. It's distracting."

Naruto winced. "The Nine-Tails makes it hard to fully quiet my chakra network."

"That's not what I meant," she said, sitting up fully now. "It's not disruptive, just present. Like standing next to a storm that hasn't decided whether to break yet."

"Oh." He didn't know what to make of that description—not quite criticism, not quite compliment.

Silence fell again, but different now, charged with unspoken questions. Finally, Temari sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the futon.

"This isn't working," she said, voice crisp with decision. "We should set ground rules."

"Ground rules?"

"For this." She gestured between them, then at the room around them. "Whatever this is going to be."

Naruto moved from the window, sitting cross-legged on the floor near her, but maintaining a respectful distance. "Okay."

Temari mirrored his position on the edge of the futon, spine straight, hands resting on her knees in what looked like a meditation pose. "First, we need to be clear about expectations. This is a political arrangement."

"Right," Naruto nodded.

"That doesn't mean we can't make it functional. Respectful. Maybe even beneficial beyond politics." Her voice remained steady, practical. "But boundaries should be established."

Moonlight threw half her face into sharp relief, leaving the other in shadow—that duality again, Naruto thought. The tough, practical kunoichi and something else, something she kept carefully guarded.

"What kind of boundaries?" he asked.

"Personal space. Privacy when needed. Professional courtesy." She ticked points off methodically. "And understanding that neither of us asked for this specific arrangement."

Naruto considered this, head tilted slightly. "That all makes sense," he agreed. "But"

"But?"

"But it doesn't cover everything." He leaned forward, blue eyes intent in the moonlight. "This may be political, but I'll protect you with my life. That's my ninja way."

The words hung between them, simple and uncompromising.

Temari's expression shifted, something like surprise flickering across features normally so controlled. "You barely know me," she pointed out, voice softer than he'd yet heard it.

"I know enough," Naruto replied with that unshakable certainty that had once changed Gaara's path, that had pulled Sasuke back from darkness (if only temporarily), that defined his entire approach to the world. "You're my wife now, even if it's just on paper. That makes you one of my precious people."

The simplicity of his declaration seemed to catch her off-guard. For a moment, the tactical mask slipped, revealing something vulnerable beneath—not weakness, but perhaps a glimpse of the person behind the kunoichi, the woman behind the political symbol.

"You really mean that," she said, not quite a question.

"I don't say things I don't mean," Naruto replied with a shrug. "Ask anyone."

A beat of silence passed. Then, unexpectedly, Temari smiled—a real smile that transformed her face, softening its sharp angles and lighting her eyes. "Kankuro said something similar about you."

"Your brother's smarter than he looks," Naruto grinned.

"Don't tell him that. His head barely fits through doors as it is."

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension in the room dissipating like morning mist. Something shifted between them—not friendship yet, perhaps, but the possibility of it. A foundation upon which something real might eventually be built.

Temari studied him for a long moment, her tactician's mind visibly reassessing initial calculations. "Alright, Naruto Uzumaki," she finally said, decision apparently reached. "I accept your protection. And offer mine in return."

"Deal," he replied, extending his hand as if to seal a contract.

After a moment's hesitation, she took it. Her palm was callused from years of wielding her battle fan, her grip strong and sure. Not a delicate hand, but a warrior's—just like his own.

"Now get some sleep," she commanded, releasing his hand and gesturing to the futon. "We're both too keyed up for proper sleep shifts. Might as well share the watch until dawn."

Naruto nodded, moving to join her near the window. Together they settled into vigilant silence, watching the borderlands where two nations met—where wind stirred the edges of forests, where sand gave way to soil rich enough for roots to take hold.

Ground rules established. Alliance formed. A beginning, if nothing else.

Whatever storms approached on the horizon, they would face them standing side by side—Sand and Leaf, united at last.

Dawn broke like a fever dream over the desert, sky ablaze with colors that had no business existing in nature—violent purples bleeding into molten gold, streaked with crimson like fresh wounds. Naruto squinted against the assault of light as their small caravan crested a dune, finally bringing their destination into view.

"That's Karasu Village?" he asked, voice still rough with sleep.

Beside him, Temari adjusted her fan's harness with practiced efficiency. Three days into their so-called honeymoon journey toward Suna, and he'd yet to see her rumpled or unprepared, even in the early hours.

"Border trading post," she replied, eyes scanning the settlement sprawled across the basin below. "Strategic position at the convergence of three major trade routes."

The village itself was a jumble of sandstone structures clustered around a central well, surrounded by a rudimentary wall more symbolic than defensive. Not large, but busy—even from this distance, Naruto could make out the colorful dots of market stalls and the movement of people beginning their day.

"Sand shinobi maintain a small outpost there," Temari continued, nodding toward a taller structure at the village's edge. "It's our last stop before we reach Suna proper."

Their escort—two Suna jonin and two Konoha chunin—fanned out in standard protective formation as they began the descent toward the village. The arrangement had been Temari's idea—a visible representation of the alliance, she'd explained, while also ensuring neither village had complete control over the newlyweds' security.

Naruto still found the whole setup absurd. As if he and Temari couldn't handle themselves better than any escort.

"You're thinking too loudly again," Temari remarked without looking at him, her voice carrying that hint of dry amusement he was starting to recognize.

"Just wondering why we need babysitters," he grumbled, adjusting his headband against the strengthening sunlight. "Between your brain and my chakra, we could handle anything that—"

The distant sound cut through his complaint like a blade—an explosion, followed by screams that carried across the desert with unnatural clarity.

Temari's head snapped up, teal eyes narrowing to slits. "That's coming from Karasu."

Before the words fully left her mouth, black smoke began to spiral upward from the village center, a stark column against the morning sky.

"Defensive formation!" barked the lead Suna jonin, hands already flying through seals.

But Naruto was already moving, chakra surging through his network like lightning. He caught Temari's eye for half a second—no words needed, just a nod of mutual understanding—before they both launched forward, leaving their startled escort shouting protests in their wake.

The village gate hung in splinters, one half still smoldering as they skidded to a stop at the entrance. Inside, chaos reigned. Civilians fled in panicked streams while fires consumed at least three structures in the village center. Through the smoke, shadowy figures darted with inhuman speed, their movements too coordinated to be anything but attacking shinobi.

"Four no, five hostiles," Temari assessed instantly, fan snapping open with a sound like slicing air. "Moving in pincer formation toward the administrative building."

"I count six," Naruto countered, eyes briefly flashing red as he drew on enhanced senses. "One on the roof there—see the distortion? Camouflage jutsu."

Temari's eyebrow lifted a fraction—surprise, maybe respect—before her face locked back into tactical mode. "Civilians first. Then we contain the attackers."

A woman's scream pierced the commotion—high, desperate. A mother on her knees in the open square, reaching toward a half-collapsed building where flames licked hungrily at the entrance.

"My son!" she wailed, held back by neighbors as she clawed toward the inferno. "Kito is still inside!"

Naruto didn't hesitate. "I'll get the kid. You coordinate evacuation!" he shouted to Temari, already sprinting toward the burning structure.

"Wait—!" Temari called after him, but he was already gone, orange blur vanishing into smoke and flame.

The heat hit like a physical wall as Naruto crashed through what remained of the doorway, wood splintering under his shoulder. Inside, flames devoured everything, transforming simple furniture into grotesque effigies of fire. The air shimmered, thick with heat that scorched his lungs with each desperate breath.

"Kito!" he shouted, voice nearly swallowed by the roar of the fire. "Where are you?!"

A faint whimper answered from somewhere above—second floor, maybe. Naruto bounded up stairs already half-consumed by flame, wood crumbling beneath his feet. Smoke blinded him, stinging his eyes until tears streamed down soot-blackened cheeks.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen copies materialized, spreading through the upper level with desperate efficiency. The building groaned around them, structural supports weakening by the second.

"Here!" one clone shouted before dissolving in a puff of smoke and memory.

Naruto pivoted, smashing through a partially collapsed doorway to find a small form huddled beneath an overturned table—a boy no older than six, clutching a stuffed toy rabbit with one hand while the other covered his mouth against the smoke.

"Hey there," Naruto grinned through the apocalyptic surroundings, crouching to the child's level. "Kito, right? I'm Naruto. Let's get you out of here."

Wide eyes stared back, glazed with terror and the beginnings of smoke inhalation.

A thunderous crack announced the ceiling's imminent collapse.

No time for gentle persuasion. Naruto scooped the boy against his chest, curling his body protectively around the small form as he charged toward the window. Glass shattered around them as they burst through, just as the building's upper floor collapsed in a deafening concussion of flame and debris.

They hit the ground hard, Naruto absorbing the impact with his body as they rolled across packed earth. Pain lanced through his shoulder—dislocated, probably—but the kid was safe, blinking in stunned silence against his chest.

"KITO!" The mother's voice broke through the ringing in Naruto's ears as she rushed forward, gathering her son into desperate arms.

No time to savor the rescue. Twenty feet away, one of the attackers materialized from the smoke like a demon from the underworld—humanoid but wrong somehow, with elongated limbs and skin that shifted colors like oil on water. His hands flashed through unfamiliar seals.

"GET DOWN!" Naruto roared, lunging toward the mother and child as a wave of corrosive chakra sliced through the air where they'd stood.

The strange attacker hissed—a sound too inhuman to have come from a normal throat—before launching into another attack sequence.

But the blow never landed.

A hurricane-force gust slammed into the creature from the side, sending it careening into a stone wall with bone-crushing force. Temari landed in a graceful crouch, battle fan fully extended, eyes cold as desert nights.

"Civilians secure in the northern quarter," she reported briskly, as if they were exchanging notes at a strategy meeting rather than standing in the midst of destruction. "Our escort is maintaining a perimeter. Six hostile confirmed, as you said."

Naruto rolled his aching shoulder back into its socket with a grunt. "What the hell are these things? They feel like—"

"Experiments," Temari finished, disgust evident in her voice. "Orochimaru's work, or something similar."

Around them, the attack continued—the strange shinobi focusing their efforts on the administrative building at the village center. Their movements contained an unsettling fluidity, as if their joints worked differently than normal human anatomy.

"They're after something specific," Temari observed, eyes tracking their coordinated movements. "The records building houses the border patrol documents, trade manifests, and"

Her eyes widened fractionally. "The vault. There's a small security vault that contains sensitive materials from both Wind and Fire countries."

"Like what?" Naruto asked, already forming the hand seals for his next move.

"Sealed scrolls. Forbidden techniques. Things too dangerous to keep in the main village repositories but too valuable to destroy." Temari snapped her fan shut, then open again—a nervous habit he was beginning to recognize. "If they get their hands on certain scrolls—"

"Then we stop them," Naruto interrupted, flashing a grin that contained more ferocity than humor. "Ready to show these freaks what happens when they mess with our honeymoon?"

The word hung awkwardly between them—a reminder of the pretense that had brought them here. But there was no time to dwell on it as two more attackers spotted them, breaking from their objective to engage.

They moved together instinctively, backs nearly touching as they faced opposite directions. But instinct only went so far. When Naruto launched forward in his typical frontal assault, Temari's precisely calculated wind attack missed its mark, the timing thrown off by his unpredictable movement.

"Stay in position!" she snapped, frustration evident as her attack dissipated harmlessly.

"I had an opening!" he shot back, dodging a barrage of what looked like hardened mud projectiles that sizzled where they struck ground.

"You had nothing! I nearly took your head off!"

Their bickering created a momentary advantage for their opponents. One creature—skin now mottled gray like stone—slammed a fist into the ground, sending a ripple of earth spikes erupting toward them.

Naruto and Temari leapt in opposite directions, coordination completely abandoned.

"This isn't working!" Temari shouted across the battlefield, deflecting another attack with her fan. "We need a strategy!"

"I have a strategy!" Naruto created three shadow clones that immediately charged the stone-skinned attacker. "Hit them until they stop moving!"

Temari's exasperated growl could be heard even over the chaos of battle. "That's not a strategy, that's a tantrum!"

Their opponents pressed the advantage, forcing them further apart with calculated attacks. These weren't mindless experiments—they fought with tactical precision despite their monstrous appearances, coordinating to separate the newlyweds while their companions continued their assault on the records building.

Naruto found himself backed against the remains of a market stall, facing two opponents—one with that disturbing color-shifting skin, another whose arms seemed to elongate and contract at will. Both moved with unnatural speed, forcing him into a defensive position.

Across the square, Temari battled her own opponent, fan whirling in deadly arcs that sent cutting wind in precise patterns. But he could see her glancing toward the records building, where the remaining attackers had breached the entrance.

They were failing. Fighting as individuals when they needed to fight as one.

The realization struck him with sudden clarity—he'd been approaching this all wrong. Temari wasn't Sakura or Sasuke or Kakashi. Their rhythms were unknown to each other, their instincts unaligned. He couldn't anticipate her movements the way he could with Team 7.

But he knew something about her—knew the way her mind worked.

"Temari!" he shouted across the battlefield. "Call it!"

Her head snapped toward him, confusion momentarily breaking her concentration.

"The strategy!" he clarified, ducking under a whip-like arm extension. "You're the tactician—tell me where to hit!"

Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by something that might have been appreciation. Without hesitation, she shifted stance, mind visibly calculating as she took in the entire battlefield in an instant.

"Three clones!" she called. "Drive the stretch-arm freak toward the well! I need eight seconds!"

No questions, no arguments. Naruto immediately formed the seals, creating exactly three shadow clones that moved with perfect synchronization, driving his opponent precisely as instructed. The creature hissed in frustration as it found itself backed toward the stone well at the square's center.

Temari, meanwhile, executed a complex series of movements with her fan, generating what appeared to be a standard wind attack—except Naruto noticed she wasn't aiming at any opponent.

"Now jump back!" she shouted the instant his clones had the creature positioned.

Naruto complied without hesitation. The moment he cleared the area, Temari snapped her fan shut and slammed it into the ground.

The seemingly random wind currents she'd been generating suddenly converged on the well, forming a vertical vortex of devastating power. The trapped opponent shrieked as it was caught in the maelstrom, lifted off its feet and suspended in the churning air.

"Your turn!" Temari called, strain evident in her voice as she maintained the complex jutsu.

Naruto grinned, instantly understanding. He formed a Rasengan—not his standard version, but one infused with just enough wind-nature chakra to interact with Temari's vortex without destroying it.

"Here goes nothing!" he shouted, hurling himself toward the trapped opponent.

The moment his Rasengan touched Temari's wind vortex, the two techniques merged in a spectacular fusion. The vortex contracted violently, focusing all its energy inward while simultaneously amplifying the Rasengan to three times its normal size and intensity.

The resulting explosion obliterated the creature entirely and sent a shockwave across the entire village square. Windows shattered in buildings that hadn't already been destroyed by fire. Debris rained down in a deadly hail.

But the effect on the remaining attackers proved even more dramatic. The shockwave hit them with such concentrated force that two were instantly incapacitated, bodies slamming into stone walls with sickening finality. The others visibly faltered, their coordinated assault pattern broken.

Naruto landed beside Temari, both of them momentarily stunned by the power of their combined attack.

"That was—" he started.

"Later," she cut him off, already refocused on the objective. "Records building. Now."

They moved together across the square, no longer fighting as individuals but as a coordinated unit. When Temari's wind cleared paths, Naruto was exactly where he needed to be to exploit the opening. When his shadow clones created diversions, her attacks struck with surgical precision through the gaps in defense.

It wasn't perfect—they still stepped on each other's techniques occasionally, still surprised each other with unexpected moves—but something had fundamentally shifted. A rhythm emerging from chaos, like finding the beat in unfamiliar music.

They burst through the records building entrance together, just in time to see the last attacker—larger than the others, with bark-like protrusions covering its body—ripping open a reinforced metal door that presumably led to the vault.

"Stop right there!" Naruto shouted, classic hero line tumbling out before he could stop himself.

The creature turned, revealing a face barely recognizable as human—eyes entirely black, jaw distended to accommodate too many teeth. In one massive hand, it clutched a scroll case adorned with warning seals.

"Too late," it rasped, voice like stone grinding against stone. "Master has what he needs."

"Your master isn't getting anything," Temari replied coolly, fan already generating swirling currents. "Except maybe pieces of you to reassemble."

The creature's response was a guttural laugh as it slammed one bark-covered arm against the floor. Instantly, wooden spikes erupted from the ground in all directions.

"Wood style?" Naruto gasped, leaping to avoid impalement. "That's First Hokage—"

"Focus!" Temari snapped, narrowly evading her own set of wooden projectiles. "Whatever it is, it has the scroll!"

They engaged in furious combat, the creature proving far more powerful than its companions. Each attack seemed to glance off its bark-like armor or be absorbed entirely. When Naruto landed a direct hit with a Rasengan, the creature simply regenerated the damaged area in seconds.

"Its chakra network is all wrong," Temari called, analyzing even as she fought. "Multiple conflicting signatures—like it's been cobbled together from different sources."

"Great," Naruto grunted, dispelling three shadow clones that had just been impaled on wooden spikes. "How do we kill something that's already a patchwork?"

Temari's eyes narrowed in concentration. "The scroll case—see how it keeps one arm curled around it? That's its priority. Not fighting us, not even self-preservation."

"So we go for the scroll," Naruto concluded, already forming more shadow clones.

What followed was their most coordinated assault yet. Naruto's clones attacked from all angles, deliberately targeting the arm that didn't hold the scroll—forcing the creature to defend with its free limb. Meanwhile, Temari analyzed its movement patterns, identifying the precise moment when its balance shifted.

"There!" she shouted, unleashing a pinpoint wind blade that sliced through the creature's wrist just as it extended the scroll-bearing arm to maintain balance.

The severed hand hit the floor with a sickening thud, scroll case still clutched in its grotesque fingers. The creature howled—a sound so unnatural it seemed to vibrate the very air—before launching into a berserk assault, all strategy abandoned in favor of raw destruction.

Wood erupted everywhere, splinters and spikes forming a literal forest of pain within the confined space. Naruto found himself backed against a wall, dodging increasingly frantic attacks while trying to spot Temari through the wooden chaos.

A flash of purple fabric caught his eye—Temari, pinned beneath a massive wooden beam, face contorted in pain but still fighting. Her fan lay just beyond reach, rendering her wind techniques useless.

Something snapped inside Naruto. Red chakra surged through his network, the Nine-Tails responding to his spike of emotion. He didn't fight it, instead channeling just enough of that raw power to enhance his strength without losing control.

With a roar that contained hints of the beast within, Naruto tore through the wooden barricade separating him from Temari. The creature turned toward this new threat, black eyes widening at the visible red chakra now surrounding the blonde shinobi.

"You hurt my wife," Naruto growled, voice overlaid with something deeper, more primal.

Before the creature could respond, Naruto was on it—moving so fast he seemed to flicker in and out of visibility. Claws that weren't quite human tore through bark armor like paper. Strength beyond normal human capacity shattered reformed defenses before they could fully manifest.

The creature never stood a chance.

When it was over, Naruto stood panting above a pile of splintered wood and unidentifiable organic matter that had once been their opponent. The red chakra receded slowly, leaving him light-headed but in control.

"Temari," he gasped, remembering, and spun to find her struggling to push the wooden beam off her legs.

He was at her side instantly, lifting the massive weight as if it were nothing. "Are you okay? Can you stand? Where are you hurt? I should get a medic—"

"Naruto," she interrupted, voice strained but steady. "The scroll."

Right. Priorities. He helped her to her feet—noting her wince as she put weight on her left leg—before retrieving the severed hand still clutching their objective. With some effort and no small amount of disgust, he pried the scroll case free.

"What is this thing, anyway?" he asked, turning the sealed container in his hands. Warning markers covered its surface—high-level restriction seals from both Suna and Konoha visible among the protective script.

Temari limped to his side, leaning slightly on her recovered fan. "Wind Country forbidden technique," she said, examining the case with narrowed eyes. "Specifically, a weather manipulation jutsu developed during the First Great War. Capable of creating sandstorms large enough to bury entire armies."

"Why keep something that dangerous here, in a border village?"

"Hiding in plain sight," Temari replied, a grimace of pain crossing her features as she shifted weight. "Plus counter-intuitive security. No one expects valuable items in seemingly ordinary locations."

The irony wasn't lost on Naruto—a jinchūriki who'd spent years as the dead-last prankster carrying the most powerful tailed beast.

"These weren't random bandits," Temari continued, mind already analyzing the bigger picture. "The coordination, the specific target, the modified bodies—someone sent them specifically for this scroll."

"Orochimaru?" Naruto suggested, the familiar anger stirring at the name of the man who had taken Sasuke.

"Or someone with access to his research," Temari agreed. "Either way, this goes beyond a simple border skirmish."

Outside, the sounds of battle had ceased, replaced by the organized chaos of emergency response. Voices called for medics, for water to douse remaining fires, for assistance clearing debris.

Together, they made their way back into the sunlight, both limping now—Naruto from numerous wooden punctures, Temari from what appeared to be a badly bruised, possibly fractured leg. The scroll case remained clutched firmly in Naruto's hand, too dangerous to entrust to anyone else.

The village square had transformed into a makeshift triage center. Injured civilians lay on hastily assembled pallets while medics—both local healers and members of their escort—worked feverishly to treat the worst cases first.

Their escort captain approached, face streaked with soot and a makeshift bandage wrapped around one arm. "There you are! We feared the worst when the records building started collapsing."

"Situation contained," Temari reported briskly. "Six hostiles neutralized. Target item secured." She nodded toward the scroll case. "Send word to both Suna and Konoha immediately. Full containment protocol."

The jonin's eyes widened at the sight of the high-security scroll case, but he nodded without question, turning to dispatch runners to both villages.

Fatigue hit Naruto in a crushing wave as the adrenaline of battle finally ebbed. Every muscle ached. Blood seeped from a dozen minor wounds, and his chakra network felt raw from the momentary tap into the Nine-Tails' power.

A medic approached, clucking disapprovingly at their battered state. "Sit, both of you, before you collapse and create more work for me."

Too exhausted to argue, they sank down on a low stone wall near the village well—or what remained of it after their combined attack. Side by side they sat in silence, watching the organized rescue efforts with the detached awareness of those who had given everything they had to give.

Naruto noticed Temari's hand shaking slightly as she pushed sweat-dampened hair from her face. Without thinking, he reached over and steadied it with his own.

She didn't pull away.

"That thing you did," she said after a long moment, "with the Nine-Tails chakra. You were still in control."

It wasn't quite a question, but Naruto nodded anyway. "Mostly. I just needed the power. Needed to reach you."

Temari studied him with an intensity that might have made him uncomfortable if he weren't so exhausted. "And that jutsu combination we created—wind vortex with your Rasengan. That was"

"Awesome?" Naruto supplied, a ghost of his usual grin flickering across his face.

"Unexpected," she corrected, but a hint of something like wonder colored her voice. "The chakra resonance shouldn't have worked that seamlessly. Wind users typically interfere with each other's techniques unless they've trained together for years."

Naruto shrugged, then winced as the movement aggravated his injured shoulder. "Maybe we're just naturally compatible."

The words hung in the air between them, carrying implications neither was ready to examine too closely.

A child's cry broke the moment—the boy Naruto had rescued, Kito, running toward them with his mother following close behind. The stuffed rabbit still clutched in one small hand, he threw himself at Naruto with complete trust, tiny arms wrapping around the startled shinobi's neck.

"Thank you for saving me, ninja-san!" the boy exclaimed, face still smudged with soot but eyes bright with the resilience only children seemed to possess.

Naruto froze momentarily, unused to such open gratitude, before awkwardly patting the child's back. "Hey, no problem, kid. Just doing my job."

The mother bowed deeply, tears streaking clean paths down her ash-covered face. "We owe you everything. Both of you," she added, including Temari in her grateful gaze. "Our village would have been destroyed without your intervention."

"We just happened to be passing through," Temari replied diplomatically, though her eyes softened as they rested on the child now chattering excitedly to Naruto about how cool it had been to fly through the air.

"The gods sent you to us," the woman insisted. "Like guardian spirits."

After she had led her still-chattering son away, Temari and Naruto sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events settling around them like the dust that hung in the air.

"You know," Temari finally said, voice so quiet Naruto had to lean closer to hear, "you're not what I expected."

He turned to look at her properly—this fierce, brilliant woman who had been thrust into his life by politics but who had fought at his side like she'd always belonged there. Her face was streaked with blood and soot, her usually immaculate hair in disarray, her clothing torn and filthy.

She had never looked more beautiful.

"Yeah?" Naruto replied, his trademark grin breaking through the exhaustion. "Well, you're even scarier than I thought."

To his complete surprise, Temari laughed—a genuine sound of amusement that transformed her usually stern features. The laugh caught her off guard as much as it did him, her eyes widening slightly at her own reaction.

And in that moment, something shifted between them—something more profound than the battle coordination they'd found, more significant than the political bonds that had brought them together.

Around them, the village smoldered, wounded cried out for comfort, and the shadow of greater threats loomed on the horizon. But for just that single, perfect moment, they were simply Naruto and Temari—two people discovering that perhaps, against all odds and expectations, they might actually fit together after all.

Konoha blazed with midday heat, sunlight filtering through the dense canopy of leaves that gave the Hidden Leaf its name. The dappled shadows danced across Temari's face as she stood rigidly at the village gates, her teal eyes narrowed against the unfamiliar riot of color and sound. After the monochromatic palette of Suna's deserts, Konoha's vibrant greens and blues assaulted her senses like a genjutsu gone wrong.

"Home sweet home!" Naruto stretched his arms overhead, inhaling deeply as if the very scent of the place restored him. The journey from Karasu Village had been tense and swift, the forbidden scroll they'd recovered now safely contained in a transport seal on Temari's fan.

"This is very green," she remarked, unable to keep the wariness from her voice. Humidity pressed against her skin like a damp cloth, making her long for Suna's dry heat.

Naruto flashed her a grin. "Wait till you see the apartment they gave us. It's got this view of—"

"Naruto!"

A blur of pink slammed into him, nearly knocking him backward. Sakura clung to her teammate, relief evident in her fierce embrace before she pulled back to examine him with a medic's critical eye.

"We heard about the attack. Are you both okay? Lady Tsunade's been worried sick—well, not that she'd admit it, but she's broken three desks since the news arrived, and—" She broke off, suddenly remembering Temari's presence. "Oh! You must be exhausted. Both of you. I mean, officially, welcome to Konoha, Temari-san."

The awkward formality hung between them. Temari inclined her head slightly, acutely aware of the stares from villagers going about their daily business. Their whispers weren't particularly subtle.

"—that's the Nine-Tails boy's wife—"

"—sand witch, I heard she can slice a man in half with that fan—"

"—political marriage, of course, who'd willingly marry either of them—"

Naruto's smile dimmed almost imperceptibly, but Temari caught it—the flash of hurt before his expression brightened to an almost aggressive cheerfulness. "Hey, Sakura-chan, is Ichiraku's still open? I've been dreaming about Teuchi's ramen since we left!"

"Some things never change," Sakura sighed, but her fond smile took any sting from the words. "Lady Tsunade wants to see you both immediately, but I suppose she'll understand if you—"

"We'll go now," Temari interrupted, slinging her fan higher on her back. The weight of it steadied her in this sea of unfamiliarity. "The intelligence we gathered can't wait."

Naruto blinked at her, then nodded, unexpected seriousness settling over his features. "Yeah, you're right. Ramen can wait I guess."

The dramatic sigh that followed made Sakura roll her eyes, but Temari caught the surprised appreciation in the pink-haired kunoichi's glance.

"This way, then," Sakura said, leading them toward the imposing Hokage Tower that dominated Konoha's skyline. "And Temari-san?"

"Just Temari is fine."

"Temari." Sakura's voice dropped, green eyes darting to Naruto who had bounded ahead, greeting various villagers with enthusiastic waves. "Thank you for having his back. The report said you both fought incredibly well together."

Something warm and unfamiliar flickered in Temari's chest. She shoved it aside, defaulting to practicality. "He's stronger than he looks. And almost as stubborn as my brother."

Sakura's laugh was unexpected. "You have no idea."

The Hokage's office smelled of sake, frustration, and too many hours of sleepless deliberation. Reports blanketed every surface, weighted down with weapons instead of paperweights. Tsunade herself stood at the window, amber eyes tracking their approach long before they entered.

"About time," she snapped, but relief softened the edges of her voice. "I assume you still have the scroll?"

Temari stepped forward, performing the necessary seals to release the transport seal on her fan. The scroll case materialized on Tsunade's desk with a dull thunk, warning seals still intact and glowing faintly with protective chakra.

"Six hostiles neutralized," she reported crisply. "Modified human experiments, similar to Orochimaru's work but with substantial differences. They specifically targeted this artifact, ignored easier opportunities and even risked mission failure rather than abandon the objective."

"She was amazing, Granny Tsunade!" Naruto interrupted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You should've seen her wind jutsu—she trapped this stretchy-arm freak and I hit him with Rasengan and BOOM!" His hands flung wide, mimicking an explosion.

Tsunade's eyebrow arched. "I read the preliminary report. It seems you two worked well together, despite the unorthodox beginning to your partnership."

Heat crept up Temari's neck. Partnership. Such a neutral word for the political entanglement they found themselves in.

"The scroll contains forbidden Wind Country techniques," she continued, steering the conversation back to relevant matters. "Weather manipulation jutsu, specifically designed to create unnatural sandstorms. In the wrong hands—"

"It could devastate entire regions," Tsunade finished grimly. "But why hide something so dangerous in a border village?"

"Hiding in plain sight," Temari and Naruto said simultaneously, then glanced at each other in surprise.

The corner of Tsunade's mouth twitched. "I've called a strategy meeting for this evening. The intelligence division has connected your attack with three similar incidents across Fire Country and beyond. This appears to be coordinated, focused, and increasingly bold."

"What were the other targets?" Temari asked.

"That's the troubling part," Tsunade sighed, finally settling behind her desk. "An abandoned temple near the Land of Rivers known to contain Earth Country scrolls. A coastal village in the Land of Water where an ancient shipwreck was recently discovered. And a mountain shrine in the Land of Lightning rumored to house artifacts from the era of the Sage of Six Paths."

"They're collecting something," Temari concluded, mind already racing through the implications. "Pieces of a larger puzzle."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "What could connect all these places? They're all over the map."

"That," Tsunade fixed them with a steely gaze, "is what you two are going to help us figure out. For now, get some rest. You look like you've been dragged behind a summons for three days straight." She waved a dismissive hand. "Sakura will show you to your new residence."

As they turned to leave, Tsunade added, almost casually, "Oh, and Temari? Welcome to Konoha. Officially."

Temari paused, then inclined her head in a gesture that wasn't quite a bow. "Thank you, Lady Hokage."

Outside the tower, the afternoon had softened into the gentle golden light that preceded sunset. Villagers hurried to complete their daily tasks, the marketplace bustling with last-minute shoppers. Konoha hummed with life in a way that felt alien to Temari—Suna's rhythms were more measured, its people more reserved in their movements, conserving energy against the desert's harshness.

"Your apartment is this way," Sakura said, leading them down streets that twisted and curved organically, following the natural contours of the land rather than Suna's rigid grid system. "It's not huge, but it's in a nice area, near the training grounds."

Naruto bounced along beside them, pointing out landmarks with childlike enthusiasm. "That's where Ichiraku's is—best ramen in the world! And over there's where Kiba lives with Akamaru—wait till you meet them! And that's the Academy where I used to—"

"Failed three times, if memory serves," a drawling voice interrupted.

Temari turned to find Shikamaru leaning against a fence, hands shoved in his pockets, trademark expression of bored exasperation firmly in place. Her pulse inexplicably quickened—the first truly familiar thing she'd encountered since arriving.

"Shikamaru!" Naruto grinned. "Come to welcome us?"

"Troublesome as always," Shikamaru sighed, but a hint of genuine warmth colored his voice. His dark eyes shifted to Temari, assessing. "Heard you two caused quite a stir at Karasu Village."

"Nothing we couldn't handle," she replied coolly, falling into the familiar rhythm of their verbal sparring—a comfort she hadn't realized she'd been craving until this moment.

"So I heard. Combined wind technique that leveled half the village square?" His eyebrow quirked upward. "Impressive and incredibly destructive."

"Effective," she corrected, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Efficient destruction is a tactical advantage."

"Spoken like a true Suna strategist." Shikamaru pushed off from the fence. "Mind if I walk with you? I'm assigned to the strategy meeting tonight. Might as well get a head start on the troublesome details."

As they continued toward their destination, Temari felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. Naruto and Sakura chattered ahead, his animated gestures and her exasperated corrections creating a familiar dynamic that reminded her, with a pang, of Kankuro's blustering and Gaara's quiet presence.

"It's an adjustment," Shikamaru murmured, voice pitched for her ears alone. "New village. New people. New everything."

Temari stiffened. "I'm not some fragile flower that wilts at the first sign of discomfort."

"Never said you were." He shrugged. "Just stating facts. When I visited Suna for the first time, the heat nearly killed me. Thought my shadow would evaporate."

Despite herself, Temari snorted. "The infamous shadow-wielder, defeated by sunshine."

"Exactly." His sidelong glance held unexpected understanding. "Sometimes even the strongest techniques have natural weaknesses. Doesn't make them any less valuable."

Before she could decode this unusually philosophical statement, Sakura stopped before a modest two-story building nestled between ancient trees.

"Here we are!" she announced, producing a key with a flourish. "Everything should be prepared inside. Lady Tsunade had it stocked with the basics."

The apartment occupied the entire second floor, accessed by an external staircase wrapped in climbing jasmine that released its heady scent with each step. Inside, sunlight poured through large windows, illuminating a space that was neither large nor small—practical, with simple furniture, a kitchenette, and doors leading to what she presumed were a bedroom and bathroom.

"It's perfect," Naruto declared, immediately bouncing from room to room like an overexcited puppy. "Look, Temari! You can see the Hokage Monument from this window! And there's a balcony! And—"

"We'll leave you to get settled," Sakura interrupted, shooting Temari a sympathetic glance. "The strategy meeting is at seven. Should we come get you, or—"

"I know the way to the Hokage Tower," Temari replied, more sharply than intended. At Sakura's slightly hurt expression, she moderated her tone. "But thank you. For everything."

After their departure, silence settled over the apartment, broken only by Naruto's continued exploration. Temari stood in the center of the main room, suddenly at a loss. This space—these walls, this light, this air that smelled of leaves and loam instead of sand and spice—was her home now.

"Do you hate it?" Naruto asked abruptly, appearing at the bedroom doorway. The insecurity in his voice startled her.

"No," she answered honestly. "It's different. But not bad."

His relief was palpable. "There's only one bed." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I can take the couch. Or build another bed. Or sleep on the roof. Whatever you want."

Temari found herself fighting an unexpected smile. For someone with such devastating power, his awkward concern was almost endearing.

"We've shared sleeping quarters before," she reminded him, thinking of their night at the border outpost. "But yes, you take the couch for now."

Practicalities established, they moved through the apartment in a strange domestic dance, unpacking the few possessions they'd carried and discovering what had been provided. Naruto chattered intermittently, filling the silence with stories about his neighbors, the best places to buy groceries, which training grounds were least crowded in the mornings.

Temari listened with half an ear, her mind already spinning toward the evening's strategy meeting. The scattered attacks, the specific targets—a pattern was forming, ghostly but persistent, at the edges of her consciousness.

"I need to clean up," she finally announced, cutting through one of Naruto's rambling tales about a previous mission. "The strategy meeting is in an hour."

He nodded, suddenly serious. "Yeah, me too. I'll use the sink out here if you want the bathroom."

Alone in the small bathroom, Temari finally allowed her shoulders to sag. She stared at her reflection—travel-worn, dusty, visibly exhausted despite her efforts to conceal it. The face that stared back belonged to someone she barely recognized: Temari Uzumaki, wife of the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, resident of Konoha.

Sand to leaf, she thought grimly. Desert to forest. How quickly the world changes beneath our feet.

The strategy room hummed with tension and barely concealed skepticism as Temari stood before the assembled shinobi, outlining her analysis of the attacks. Maps covered the walls, red pins marking confirmed incidents, yellow ones indicating suspicious activities that might be connected.

"These aren't random," she emphasized, tracing a pattern with her finger. "The targets form a specific constellation when mapped against ancient trade routes from the Warring States period."

An elder coughed derisively. "Speculation at best. They could simply be targeting poorly defended outposts."

"Except they aren't," Temari countered evenly, refusing to be baited. "They bypassed three easier targets to reach Karasu Village. And their attack pattern demonstrates clear objective-focused strategies, not opportunistic raiding."

Naruto sat at the far end of the table, uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes darting between Temari and the increasingly combative council members. Beside him, Shikamaru's expression remained impassive, but his attention never wavered from Temari's presentation.

"The theory holds merit," Ibiki Morino's gruff voice cut through the murmurs. "The Intelligence Division has intercepted whispers of a collector seeking artifacts from the Sage's era. Scattered pieces of something called 'Heaven's Spear.'"

"A weapon?" Tsunade leaned forward, fingers steepled.

"Ancient texts mention it," supplied an archivist, shuffling through scrolls. "Supposedly capable of harnessing natural energy on a catastrophic scale. Most scholars dismiss it as myth."

"Like the Tailed Beasts were once dismissed as myth?" Temari's voice cut like a blade. "The scroll they sought in Karasu contained weather manipulation jutsu. Combined with artifacts from the other sites—Earth Country gravitational techniques, Water Country tidal manipulation scrolls, Lightning Country storm conductors—"

"You believe they're assembling components," Shikamaru finished, eyes sharp with realization. "Not the weapon itself, but the knowledge to recreate it."

"Precisely." Temari flattened her palm against the map. "And based on the pattern, I believe their next target will be here—the Fire Temple, which houses scrolls on fire nature manipulation that could theoretically amplify the weapon's destructive capabilities."

"Preposterous," snapped one of the elders. "The Fire Temple is one of our most secured locations. No band of rogue experiments could penetrate its defenses."

"They penetrated a village under both Suna and Konoha protection," Temari reminded them coolly. "With specific intelligence on vault locations and contents."

The implication hung heavy in the air: someone was feeding information to the attackers.

"Lady Tsunade," Naruto finally spoke, surging to his feet with barely contained energy. "Let me take a team to the Fire Temple. We can set a trap, catch these freaks in the act!"

"Absolutely not," Temari countered before Tsunade could respond. "The logical approach is surveillance and intelligence gathering. We need to identify their network, not just the foot soldiers."

Naruto's face flushed. "But that could take weeks! By then they might have everything they need! If we hit them head-on—"

"That's exactly what they'd expect," Temari cut him off. "Tactical patience wins more battles than brute force."

"Not when innocent people are in danger! If they attack the temple—"

"Then we'll have sacrificed our best opportunity to dismantle their entire operation for a single victory," she finished flatly. "Short-sighted and ultimately ineffective."

The room had gone silent, all eyes bouncing between the newlyweds like spectators at a particularly intense sparring match. Even Tsunade seemed taken aback by the open disagreement.

"Perhaps," Shikamaru drawled into the tense silence, "we could consider a hybrid approach. Surveillance with contingency for direct intervention."

Tsunade's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Elaborate."

"We establish covert surveillance at the Fire Temple and other potential targets," he explained, "while simultaneously preparing rapid response teams. At the first sign of activity, we deploy accordingly."

"That could work," Temari acknowledged reluctantly, "if the response teams maintain absolute discipline and don't engage prematurely."

All eyes shifted to Naruto, who had the grace to look slightly abashed. "I can be patient! When it matters!"

Shikamaru's snort spoke volumes.

"It's settled then," Tsunade decided. "Shikamaru, you'll coordinate the surveillance operation. Temari, I want detailed analysis of all potential targets, prioritized by likelihood. Naruto—" her stern gaze fixed on him, "—you'll lead one of the response teams, but you will wait for my express authorization before engaging. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Granny!" His grin didn't quite reach his eyes.

As the meeting dispersed, the tension between Naruto and Temari remained palpable. They walked in uncomfortable silence through Konoha's darkened streets, the moon casting long shadows across their path. Neither spoke until they reached their apartment, the door closing behind them with a decisive click.

"You undermined me," Naruto finally burst out, whirling to face her. "In front of everyone!"

"I presented the tactically sound option," Temari replied evenly. "Just because you don't like it—"

"It's not about liking it! It's about doing what's right!" He paced the small living room like a caged animal. "While we're sitting around watching and waiting, people could die!"

"And if we charge in without proper intelligence, even more could die," she countered, arms crossed. "Not to mention we'd lose our best chance at stopping the real threat."

"There's always another way! We could warn the temple, evacuate civilians—"

"And alert our enemies that we're onto them?" Temari shook her head sharply. "In Suna, we don't have the luxury of your optimism. We make the hard choices that ensure overall survival."

"And maybe that's why you can't see there's always another way!" Naruto shot back, blue eyes blazing with an intensity that startled her. "Maybe sometimes optimism isn't a luxury—it's the only thing that lets us find solutions no one else can see!"

They stood facing each other, barely an arm's length apart, both breathing hard as if they'd been sparring. The air between them seemed to crackle with something electric—not quite anger, not quite attraction, but a volatile mixture of both.

"You think I'm cold," Temari stated, voice dropping to something dangerously soft.

"I think you're afraid to hope," he replied, equally quiet, the insight striking her like a physical blow.

Moonlight spilled through the window, casting half her face in silver light, the other in shadow. In that moment, she looked both vulnerable and fierce, caught between worlds just as she was caught between villages, between duty and desire.

Naruto's expression softened unexpectedly. "I'm not saying you're wrong. Just that maybe we both have something to learn from each other."

The simple statement disarmed her more effectively than any jutsu. Temari looked away first, moving to the window where Konoha spread before her—this foreign place that was now supposed to be home.

"Maybe," she finally conceded, the single word costing her more than she'd ever admit.

Behind her, Naruto exhaled slowly, the tension in the room not broken but somehow transformed, shifting into something uncertain and new. This wasn't the battlefield harmony they'd discovered in Karasu Village. This was messier, more personal—the first real collision of their fundamentally different worldviews.

Yet somehow, beneath the friction, lay the surprising realization that each had seen something true in the other, something worth defending even as they clashed. Something worth building upon, despite everything that stood between them.

"I'll take the first watch," Naruto said softly, settling onto the couch with uncharacteristic stillness.

Temari nodded, retreating to the bedroom without another word. But as she closed the door, she found herself pausing, fingers lingering on the handle, some unspoken thing hovering on the tip of her tongue.

In the silence of her new room, in this strange village so far from everything she'd known, Temari of the Sand—now Temari Uzumaki—faced the most unsettling discovery yet: for the first time in her life, she wasn't entirely certain she was right.

And somehow, that uncertainty felt like the beginning of something, rather than the end.

The message arrived with the dawn—a sand hawk swooping through their open window in a flurry of beating wings and scattered grains. The bird dissolved the instant Temari touched it, particles spiraling into a tiny scroll marked with Kankuro's hasty scrawl. She read it once, twice, her face draining of color until it matched the parchment clutched in her trembling fingers.

"They tried to kill Gaara."

Her voice cracked like desert clay in the sun, each word a fragment that fell between them. Naruto, half-dressed and sleep-rumpled, crossed the room in three strides, reading over her shoulder as her hands shook.

"Assassination attempt Gaara unharmed unknown infiltrators political situation deteriorating" He grasped her wrist, steadying the paper. "We need to go. Now."

For once, there was no argument. Temari was already moving, a whirlwind of efficiency as she packed essential gear. Her battle fan, strapped to her back before she'd even fully dressed. Weapons harness. Communication scrolls. Her movements were precise but carried an edge of desperation—fingers fumbling with clasps she'd secured a thousand times before.

"Temari." Naruto caught her hands, stilling their frantic motion. "He's alive. Kankuro says he's unharmed."

"For how long?" Her eyes caught his, wild with a vulnerability he'd never witnessed in her. "The Council has been looking for an excuse to remove him since the day he was appointed. They'll use this—they'll say the Shukaku makes him a target, makes Suna unsafe—"

"Then we'll show them they're wrong." The certainty in his voice cut through her spiraling fear. "We'll get there in time."

Tsunade's face was a thundercloud as they burst into her office thirty minutes later. "You're not going anywhere. Both of you are needed here for the Fire Temple surveillance operation."

"My brother—" Temari began, voice razor-sharp.

"—is the Kazekage, surrounded by elite protection." Tsunade cut her off. "The attack failed. And after the intelligence you yourself gathered, we know this is likely connected to the larger threat."

"All the more reason we need to go." Naruto stepped forward, planting his palms on Tsunade's desk with uncharacteristic boldness. "Think about it, Granny. These attacks on both villages, trying to steal artifacts, now an attempt on Gaara's life—they're trying to drive a wedge between Konoha and Suna."

Something flashed in Tsunade's amber eyes—surprise, perhaps, at his insight.

"Lady Tsunade," Temari said, her voice steadier now, strategist's mind reasserting control, "if these incidents are connected, then my brother's life is still in danger, and the alliance is threatened. The political implications alone—"

"Which is precisely why I should send an official diplomatic envoy, not two emotionally compromised shinobi with personal stakes," Tsunade countered.

"Who better to send," Naruto argued, "than the living symbol of our alliance? The Kazekage's sister and her husband from Konoha? We're literally the treaty in human form."

Silence descended on the office. Even Shizune, perpetually bustling in the background, froze mid-step, eyes widening at Naruto's unexpected political acumen.

A slow, reluctant smile curved Tsunade's lips. "When did you get so savvy, brat?"

"I've always been brilliant," Naruto grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "You just weren't paying attention."

"We'll neutralize two threats with one mission," Temari added, seizing the opening. "Stabilize Suna's political situation and gather intelligence on the connection between these attacks."

Tsunade's sigh held the weight of mountains. "Fine. But this is an official diplomatic mission. You represent Konoha, Naruto. No charging in, no unauthorized combat, no impassioned speeches unless absolutely necessary. And for the love of the First Hokage, wear something besides that orange monstrosity."

The desert greeted them with brutal familiarity—a scorching embrace that stole breath and sanity in equal measure. They traveled at breakneck speed, pushing themselves to the limit of endurance as the landscape blurred into an endless sea of gold and ochre. When night fell, they pressed on, guided by stars that hung impossibly close in the clear desert sky.

"There," Temari pointed as they crested a massive dune. "Suna's outer barrier."

The village rose from the desert like a mirage, sandstone walls glowing amber in the first light of dawn. But something was wrong. Even from this distance, Naruto could see abnormal activity—too many guards at the gate, too much movement along the watchtowers.

"Security's tripled," Temari murmured, eyes narrowing. "And those aren't just regular patrols."

"ANBU?"

"Puppet Corps. Kankuro's elite squad." Her voice held equal measures of pride and concern. "They're only deployed for the most serious threats."

The guards tensed visibly as they approached, recognition dawning in slow waves as dust-covered figures resolved into familiar faces.

"Lady Temari!" The shock in the gate captain's voice confirmed Naruto's suspicion that their arrival was unexpected. "We had no word of your return."

"The Kazekage's sister doesn't need permission to come home," she replied, voice carrying the edge of command that seemed bred into her bones. "Take us to my brother. Immediately."

The Kazekage's tower hummed with barely contained chaos—shinobi rushing through corridors, elders clustered in tense knots of conversation that dissolved as they passed. Whispers followed in their wake, rippling through the ranks like wind across sand.

"—the Konoha husband—"

"—convenient timing—"

"—Council's voting on security protocols—"

Kankuro met them at Gaara's office door, purple face paint cracked from exhaustion, eyes bloodshot from nights without sleep. "About damn time," he growled, but the relief in his voice betrayed the façade of irritation. He pulled Temari into a brief, fierce hug before nodding to Naruto. "Thanks for getting her here fast."

"Where is he?" Temari demanded, already pushing past her brother.

"Council chamber. Emergency session." Kankuro's mouth twisted. "Vultures are circling."

The Council chamber thrummed with heated argument as they entered, voices bouncing off ancient stone walls polished smooth by generations of desert wind channeled through precisely engineered ventilation shafts. Gaara sat at the head of the curved table, face impassive as ever, but Naruto immediately spotted the signs of strain—the tightness around his eyes, the almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders.

"—requires stronger measures! The Kazekage's security protocols are clearly inadequate—" An elder with a beard like iron filings jabbed a gnarled finger toward Gaara.

"The protocols succeeded. The assassins failed." Gaara's voice remained steady, emotionless.

"This time! And at what cost? Three of our shinobi injured, structural damage to the east wing—"

"How convenient," Temari's voice cut through the chamber like a wind blade, "that you question my brother's leadership after an attack clearly designed to provoke exactly this response."

All heads turned, surprise and calculation flickering across faces in equal measure. Naruto stood half a step behind her, absorbing details with uncharacteristic patience—the positioning of elders (factions clearly delineated by seating arrangement), the subtle signals between allies, the way three particular council members refused to meet Gaara's eyes.

"Lady Temari," the bearded elder recovered first, rising to his feet with exaggerated courtesy. "Your concern for your brother is commendable, but surely Suna's internal matters should be addressed without outside influence." His gaze slid meaningfully to Naruto.

"You mean without witnesses to your attempted coup?" Naruto's voice startled even Temari, who glanced at him with momentary surprise. He stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his wife. "Pretty convenient that assassins somehow bypassed security measures only Suna elders would know. Almost like they had inside information."

The chamber erupted into outrage—voices clamoring over each other in waves of indignation. Through it all, Gaara remained silent, pale eyes studying Naruto with newfound interest.

"How dare you!" The bearded elder's face flushed crimson. "This Konoha interloper accuses loyal council members of treason!"

"I don't recall mentioning treason," Naruto replied mildly, blue eyes sharp as kunai. "Interesting that your mind went there first, though."

Temari's lips twitched, the ghost of approval flashing across her face before she stepped forward. "We have evidence that the attacks on Karasu Village, the Fire Temple surveillance, and the assassination attempt are connected—part of a coordinated effort to destabilize the alliance between our villages."

"What evidence?" demanded a rail-thin woman with elaborate silver hair ornaments.

"The kind that gets people like you very nervous," Kankuro drawled from the doorway, arms crossed, every inch the Kazekage's intimidating brother despite his exhaustion.

Gaara rose, silencing the room with the simple movement. "This emergency session is adjourned. We will reconvene tomorrow after my family and I have conferred regarding new intelligence." His voice left no room for argument. "Elder Tojin, Elder Ryusa, Elder Makami—you will remain."

The chamber emptied grudgingly, councilors filing out with venomous glances and whispered conspiracies. The three elders Gaara had named remained seated, their expressions ranging from outrage to calculated neutrality.

When the heavy doors finally closed, Gaara turned to Naruto. "That was unexpected."

"What, me defending you? Or me noticing which council members look guilty as hell?"

Temari elbowed him sharply, but Gaara's mouth curved in what might have been the ghost of a smile.

"Both." He turned to his sister. "Your arrival is fortunate. The situation is worse than Kankuro's message indicated."

For the next hour, they huddled in Gaara's private study—a sparse, circular room at the top of the Kazekage tower with windows facing all directions, giving a 360-degree view of Suna. The assassination attempt, Gaara explained, had been sophisticated and multi-layered—first a diversion at the village gates, then an infiltration through supposedly secure tunnels, culminating in a direct assault involving jutsu strikingly similar to those used by the creatures at Karasu Village.

"Three of the four assassins had physical modifications," Gaara concluded, pointing to detailed medical reports spread across his desk. "Enhanced musculature, abnormal chakra networks, cellular regeneration capabilities."

"Just like the ones we fought," Naruto confirmed grimly.

"And the fourth?" Temari asked, already suspecting the answer.

"Escaped," Kankuro growled. "And not by accident. Someone deliberately created an opening in our defensive perimeter."

"Let me guess," Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Sector overseen by one of those three councilors you kept behind."

Gaara inclined his head slightly. "Elder Ryusa's security team. He claims they were overwhelmed."

"But you don't believe him," Temari stated flatly.

"I believe he has been meeting secretly with envoys from a group calling themselves 'Shinsei'—the New Dawn." Gaara's voice remained neutral, but his eyes hardened to jade. "Intelligence suggests they have operatives in all five great nations, working toward what they call 'the natural order restored.'"

"Breaking alliances," Naruto realized. "Pushing villages back into isolated competition."

"Or war," Temari added grimly. "The artifacts they're collecting—the Heaven's Spear components—they're weapons of mass destruction. Bargaining chips to force compliance."

Silence settled over the room as the full scope of the threat crystallized between them. Not just scattered attacks or political maneuvering, but a calculated, multi-pronged assault on the fragile peace they'd begun to build.

"We need to consolidate our intelligence," Temari finally said, tactician's mind already plotting countermoves. "Coordinate between Konoha and Suna's intelligence divisions to identify all Shinsei operatives in both villages."

"And set a trap," Naruto added, pacing the circular room with restless energy. "Give them something they can't resist—something that draws them out into the open."

"Like what?" Kankuro asked skeptically.

Naruto stopped pacing, a slow grin spreading across his face—the kind that had preceded his most audacious victories and most spectacular disasters. "Like a very public ceremony celebrating the alliance they're trying to destroy."

The plan took shape over the next forty-eight hours—audacious, controversial, and precisely the kind of unpredictable move their enemies wouldn't anticipate. A formal ceremony marking the "deepening alliance" between Leaf and Sand, to be held in Suna's grand council amphitheater, with rumors deliberately leaked about a valuable artifact exchange as part of the proceedings.

"It's insane," Elder Tojin sputtered when the plan was presented to the full council. "You're deliberately inviting attack!"

"We're inviting them to attack where and when we choose," Temari corrected, standing tall beside her brothers. "On ground we've prepared, at a time of our selection, with our full forces ready."

The council chamber had become a battlefield of its own—verbal salvos launched across the curved table, alliances shifting with each new argument. Through it all, Naruto watched silently from his position at the periphery, eyes tracking the subtle tells of those opposed to the plan. Elder Ryusa's excessive perspiration. Elder Makami's too-frequent glances toward the chamber doors. The way four particular councilors seemed to communicate with micro-expressions rather than words.

"The risk to civilians—" began an elderly woman with elaborate tattoos marking her as a retired medical-nin.

"Is minimal with the evacuation protocols we've established," Kankuro interrupted. "The civilian quarter will be cleared twelve hours in advance, with a cover story about structural repairs to the aqueduct system."

"And what of our honored guests?" Elder Ryusa asked silkily. "Do we risk the lives of Konoha delegates for this trap?"

"You mean, do I risk my own life?" Naruto finally spoke, pushing off from the wall he'd been leaning against. All eyes turned to him—still the outsider, still the anomaly in this chamber of desert politics. "Because I'll be standing right next to the Kazekage throughout the ceremony. Prime target. Front and center."

His blue eyes locked with Ryusa's, challenge unmistakable. "Unless you think that's a problem? That I should what was it? Create an opening in the defensive perimeter?"

The councilor's face drained of color. Beside him, Elder Makami's hand twitched toward a hidden pocket before stilling. Across the table, three other council members exchanged glances so fleeting they would have been missed by anyone not specifically watching for them.

Got you, Naruto thought with grim satisfaction.

"I believe we've heard enough concerns," Gaara said into the loaded silence. "The plan proceeds. Those in favor?"

Hands rose gradually—first Kankuro's, then the head of Suna's intelligence division, followed by a cascade of others until more than two-thirds of the council had signaled approval. The opposition sat rigid, defeat etched in tight-lipped scowls and white-knuckled grips on the table edge.

"Preparations begin immediately," Gaara concluded. "Council dismissed."

As the chamber emptied, Temari caught Naruto's arm, pulling him aside while Gaara and Kankuro conferred with loyal ANBU captains.

"That was risky," she murmured, voice pitched for his ears alone. "Calling out Ryusa directly."

"Worked, didn't it?" Naruto shrugged. "They're rattled. Rattled people make mistakes."

"They also become desperate." Her eyes searched his with unexpected intensity. "This isn't like you. Since when do you play political chess instead of charging in head-first?"

"Since someone very smart keeps telling me that tactics matter." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Besides, I'm not just some reckless kid anymore. I'm the future Hokage who happens to be married to the scariest strategist in the Five Nations."

Something shifted in her expression—surprise melting into something warmer, more complex. Before she could respond, Kankuro called her name, gesturing urgently toward a map spread across a side table.

"We'll continue this later," she promised, squeezing his arm briefly before rushing to join her brothers.

Naruto watched her go, struck by the ease with which she slipped back into her role here—not the outsider in Konoha, but the Kazekage's formidable sister, respected and feared in equal measure. For the first time, he glimpsed what it must have cost her to leave this place where her identity was never questioned, her strength never doubted.

Night fell over Suna like a velvet cloak, stars punching through the darkness with desert clarity. The village's sandstone edifices glowed pale gold under the nearly full moon, shadows sharp-edged and dramatic in the absence of artificial light. Unlike Konoha with its streetlamps and neon signs, Suna conserved its resources even in illumination—only essential pathways lit by carefully placed lanterns, the rest surrendered to darkness and navigated by memory.

Temari found him on the Kazekage tower's roof—the highest point in Suna, accessible only to those specifically permitted by Gaara himself. Naruto sat cross-legged near the edge, face tilted toward the vast starscape, unusually still for someone whose energy typically bordered on manic.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, settling beside him with the grace that made even her simplest movements seem deliberate.

"Too much thinking." He tapped his temple with a wry smile. "Dangerous activity for me, according to Sakura."

The desert breeze played with Temari's hair, loosened from its usual four ponytails for the night. She'd changed into simple clothing—loose linen pants and a wrapped top that left her arms bare, revealing lean muscle and the scattered evidence of battles survived. Here, under moonlight that bleached color from the world, she looked simultaneously softer and more dangerous than ever.

"You saved the council meeting today," she said after a comfortable silence. "They've never respected an outsider's opinion before."

"I wasn't offering an opinion. I was baiting a trap." His smile turned slightly feral. "Besides, I'm not just any outsider. I'm family now."

The word hung between them, weighted with implications neither had fully explored. Family. Such a simple concept, so foreign to them both—the orphan who grew up alone and the girl who'd been raised as a weapon alongside her brothers.

"You're handling all this better than I expected," Temari admitted, gesturing vaguely at the village spread below them. "The politics, the plotting. It's not exactly your usual approach."

"You mean hitting everything with Rasengan until it stops moving?" His laugh carried on the night air. "Yeah, well turns out I was paying attention all those times Grandma Tsunade lectured me about diplomatic consequences."

Temari's eyebrow arched skeptically.

"Okay, maybe not all those times," he conceded. "But I know what's at stake. Not just villages or politics, but people. Your brother. The alliance." He hesitated, then added softly, "You."

She stilled, the admission catching her off-guard. For days, they'd been moving at breakneck speed—planning, strategizing, coordinating with Gaara and Kankuro, no time to acknowledge the undercurrents shifting between them since Karasu Village. Since their argument in Konoha's apartment.

"I was scared today," she confessed abruptly, the words seemingly torn from somewhere deep and usually guarded. "When I saw those assassination reports. The diagrams of where they'd breached the tower. How close they came to Gaara's quarters."

Her hands, always so steady in battle, trembled slightly in her lap. "I've spent my whole life preparing for threats, calculating odds, planning countermeasures. But when I saw that sand hawk this morning, I couldn't think. Couldn't strategize. All I could feel was—"

"Terror," Naruto finished quietly. "Pure, blind terror that doesn't care about odds or strategies."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "I'm not supposed to feel that. I'm supposed to be—"

"Human?" His hand covered hers, warm and solid against her cooler skin. "Because last time I checked, that's what we all are. Even the scary sand witch everyone's afraid to cross."

A startled laugh escaped her. "Is that what they call me?"

"Among other things. Most of them involving how many ways you could kill someone with that fan." His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, a casual intimacy that should have felt presumptuous but somehow didn't. "It's actually pretty impressive, the legends you've inspired."

"Says the boy who painted the Hokage Monument in broad daylight and outran ANBU squads."

"Ancient history," he grinned. "Now I just make elaborate plans to catch conspirators and protect Kages. Much more dignified."

Their laughter mingled in the desert night, tension bleeding away like water into sand. When silence returned, it felt companionable rather than loaded—the quiet of people comfortable enough with each other to let conversation breathe.

"I miss it," Temari said finally, gaze sweeping across the sleeping village. "Suna. The desert. The way the air tastes just before dawn, like possibility and ancient stone." Her admission carried the weight of confession, as if homesickness were a tactical weakness she'd been concealing. "Does that make me disloyal to our arrangement?"

"It makes you someone who loves her home," Naruto replied simply. "I'd be worried if you didn't miss it."

"Konoha is" she hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Green? Humid? Full of people who talk too much and hug without warning?"

Her lips quirked. "I was going to say 'alive in a different way.' Like it's constantly in motion, constantly growing. Suna endures; Konoha thrives."

She turned to face him fully, moonlight catching in her eyes like fractured crystal. "When I become Hokage, and with Gaara as Kazekage—we could change everything between our villages," Naruto said softly. "Not just alliances on paper or political marriages, but something real. Something that lasts."

"You really believe you'll be Hokage, don't you?" There was no mockery in her question, only genuine curiosity, as if she were studying a particularly fascinating tactical problem.

He met her gaze without hesitation, blue eyes bright even in the darkness. "With you by my side? I'm certain of it."

The words fell between them, weighted with meaning neither had intended. Temari's breath caught, the naked sincerity in his face more disarming than any calculated charm could ever be. This was Naruto's true power, she realized—not the Nine-Tails chakra or his endless stamina, but this unshakable belief that made the impossible seem inevitable.

Above them, stars blazed in constellations she'd known since childhood, their light traveling across unimaginable distances to reach this moment, this rooftop, these two people caught between duty and something newer, fragile but growing stronger with each shared battle, each argument, each moment of unexpected understanding.

The desert stretched boundless around them, Suna a haven of light and life in its vastness. Sand and leaf. Desert and forest. Opposites that perhaps weren't so irreconcilable after all.

Neither could say afterward who moved first—only that the distance between them closed, moonlight witness to the meeting of lips that should have felt foreign but somehow felt like returning. His hand curved along her jaw, hers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, the kiss deepening from tentative exploration to something hungrier, more urgent.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, the world seemed to have tilted on its axis—the familiar made strange, the impossible suddenly within reach.

"That was" Naruto began, words failing him for perhaps the first time in his life.

"Unexpected," Temari supplied, though the rapid beat of her heart suggested otherwise. "And probably complicated."

"I'm good with complicated." His smile carried the confidence of someone who'd faced impossible odds his entire life and somehow emerged victorious. "As long as we're complicated together."

She should have laughed at the simplicity of his worldview, the naive optimism that reduced geopolitical entanglements to matters of personal choice. Instead, she found herself leaning forward again, drawn to his warmth like a desert plant to sunlight, thinking perhaps—just perhaps—complications were nothing to fear when faced with the right ally.

Far below, Suna slept on, unaware that atop its highest tower, the political alliance between two great villages had just transformed into something entirely more personal, more powerful, and infinitely more dangerous to those who would try to tear it apart.

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