Temari couldn't bake worth shit. It was commonly known among the village that Temari wasn't exactly a girlie-girl, but before their marriage Shikamaru'd had no concept of just how much the traditional wife he would be.

The first time rain and Temari’s visits coincided, she stood in Shikamaru’s garden for three hours before coming in, soaked, shivering, and grinning from ear to ear. Her clothes were plastered to her body, every curve revealed, ponytails weighed down and dark with water, dripping all over the floor of the entrance with complete disregard for the mess.