Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Habits ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Thanks for your kind reviews. As promised, the InoChou side of what’s going on...

I’m glad that someone suggested seeing Kurenai and Konohamaru’s views on the event... And while I’m not going to explore either in this fic, I may write a drabble from Kurenai’s POV after this is done.

As for where I got 328 at such an early stage... I was linked to it on LiveJournal... not sure where they got it. It’s up on a few sites by now... toughisntenough.com if the translation isn’t on NarutoFan yet.

Chouji wasn’t really sure why he went into the flower shop that morning. He’d already gotten flowers for the funeral - or rather, his mother had picked some out for him, since through some unspoken agreement his team was avoiding each other right then. Maybe that was why; maybe he just felt that bouquet was too impersonal and wanted to pick one out himself. Maybe it was that the flowers were beautiful and he needed any strand of happiness he could hold onto right then.

Or maybe it was just that he missed his teammates after three days of silence between them. He’d passed by Shikamaru the previous afternoon, but they hadn’t exchanged more than a glance. Shikamaru was the type to grieve alone, to avoid showing his weakness to anyone, even his team. Ino was most likely holed up in her room with Sakura - the pink-haired kunoichi, her best friend for so long, tended to be the only one she relied on in moments like this.

That left the Akimichi boy totally and desperately alone. Sure, he had his family, but they’d done little but worry about him, since his grief had caused the ultimate change in his demeanor:

He’d all but stopped eating. Sure, at meal times he still sat down with his family, but after just a few bites he’d push his food around for a bit then quietly excuse himself. He no longer ate snacks all day or lusted after the last bite. Out of concern, his dad had offered to take him to his favorite barbeque restaurant. In response, he’d only cried.

When he saw Ino behind the counter, her usual purple garb abandoned for a less revealing black dress, he actually smiled for a moment. The thought that she was doing well enough to be working this morning gave him a bit of strength, which he in turn used to walk over and greet her.

“Good morning,” he offered.

She glanced up at him, taking a moment to make eye contact. Then, without warning, she launched herself at him, pressing her face into his chest and sobbing. The mere sight of his friend in this state nearly made Chouji fall to pieces himself, but he forced himself to swallow his tears, knowing that he’d be able to console her better if she couldn’t see how badly he was hurting. Silently his arms wrapped around her, stroking her hair carefully so as not to mess up her ponytail.

A few minutes passed of no noise except her quiet sobs. A customer came into the store, their presence indicated by the chiming of the door’s bell, and promptly left again upon receiving a clear “not right now” glance from the rather intimidating chuunin.

“Why him?” she finally whispered, pulling back a little. “I thought we’d all be jounin before he... Or at least that Shikamaru would be... I thought he’d be at my wedding, and thought he’d be a grandpa to my kids and...” she bit her lip, suddenly blushing at her tangent. Like so many girls, she had her life all planned out; her own personal fairy tale, one that probably helped her get through the tougher moments she faced as a kunoichi.

“It must be harder for you, since your family is mostly civilians,” Chouji suggested. He’d lost plenty of people - probably half the men in his family - in his lifetime, due to his family’s allegiance as ninjas. He knew the closest Ino had come to losing someone important to her was Sasuke’s disappearance three years earlier, and he wasn’t sure she was over that yet. She was lucky; only her father and a scattering of others had become shinobi, and none of those lost on missions had been close to her.

She nodded quietly, sighing and letting go of him to tighten her hair band. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”

“A little less than an hour.” He sighed, closing his eyes, then reopening them to scan the room. “Help me choose something to take for him? I think it’s the least we could do.”

“...What would be the most?”

A half hour later, they arrived at the funeral grounds, each carrying a gift for their departed teacher. In Ino’s arms was a beautiful bouquet of their sensei’s favorite flowers; in Chouji’s, a gift-wrapped box containing a carton of cigarettes and a box of fresh-cooked barbeque.

For once, Chouji would let Asuma have the last bite.