Disclaimer: the only characters I own are Nakajima and Kazuhito.
A/N - Did you know that Chouji is the only Rookie 9 member who was almost never ranked within top 30 characters in the official polls? I must confess I was never much interested in him either, which is too bad since he really is a great character once you stop to think about it. Here's a fic to give him some spotlight.
Kind Heart
"Chouji, you're a kind man who cares for his comrades. That's why… you'll become a shinobi more powerful than everyone else. Be more confident in yourself. And… maybe diet a little."
"Neeeh? You're seriously going to keep eating after finishing this place off?" blue eyes stared at the person sitting across the table. Having patted his full stomach and grinned to his heart content, the 'big-boned' boy was happily peering at two colourful scraps of paper in his hand. Chouji nodded.
"Yup! It's not every day I get my hands on free Ichiraku coupons!"
"This guy..." Ino sighed, massaging her temples. "Chouji, if you keep eating at this rate, you'll land yourself in the hospital again, and then I'll have to be the one to keep an eye on you!"
"You make it sound like that would be a huge problem for you", Chouji noticed, sounding offended. "Besides, dad's been teaching me a new jutsu and I need all the calories I can get!" he grinned again, carefully tucking the coupons in his wallet.
"That's the thing, Chouji! If you're learning a new jutsu, shouldn't you be at the training field working on it instead of lazing around in restaurants all day?"
Silent so far, Shikamaru gave a significant cough, having noticed the good mood slowly draining out of his best friend, but Ino failed to note it.
"Don't you wish to get stronger?" the blond finished.
"Ino", Shikamaru quietly warned.
"What?"
Dark eyebrows rose to convey a wordless message, and Ino's brow creased. She glanced at the now downcast eyes of the Akimichi heir, and sighed in frustration. All she wanted was what was best for her friend, but she rarely managed to pinpoint the limits of his sensitivity.
Shikamaru stepped in before she could try make an apology, because those more often than not ended up making things worse.
"Well, my lunch break's over. I've got to head to the Tower. Tsunade's fussing about some big shot who's coming to Konoha today. This day will be such a drag..."
Chouji sent him a weak, sympathetic smile. Ino rose, as well.
"I should get going, too. I have to cover the afternoon shift at the flower shop. Chouji, you coming?"
Chouji kept sitting in his spot. "In a minute. I'll go pay for you guys, and you can give me the money later."
Shikamaru shrugged. "Suit yourself."
"Thanks, Chouji. See you later!" Ino closed the door of the Yakiniku Q, following Shikamaru's vested back.
When he was quite alone at the table, Chouji's smile faded.
It wasn't all that Ino said which struck a chord with him. Although it was never pleasant, he had heard her 'proper nutrition' speech many times before. But this day one sentence, or perhaps a word, rang louder.
Stronger. Don't you wish to get stronger?
He did wish to be stronger. Ino seemed to be forgetting the fact he ate so much because he needed the extra calories to burn during practice. Becoming a better ninja was the sole reason he put himself through severe training sessions with his dad, so that he could learn tougher, more demanding jutsu.
But it never seemed to be enough.
Stronger.
When he compared himself to Shikamaru, who was slowly becoming one of the most important members of Hokage's cabinet, and even to Ino, who was mastering complicated medical jutsu on a daily basis, Chouji felt like the member of former Team 10 who made least progress.
He trained very hard, but it seemed there wouldn't be much difference if he trained even harder.
A smiling dark face streamed from a memory, enveloped in a cloud of billowing smoke. Chouji's mouth tugged into a faint smile. He knew what Asuma-sensei would have told him if he saw him so blue. Asuma-sensei would say something about his only problem being lack of self-confidence, and how true shinobi strength didn't lie in the muscles, but elsewhere.
Sensei would have repeated his last words, how Chouji's greatest strength was kindness.
Chouji had just one thing to do at that statement: he sadly shook his head.
Asuma's words were very nice and warm, but everybody knew that it wasn't kindness what saved you on the battlefield. Chouji cherished those last words for what they were, but they weren't something practical he could hold onto in everyday life. On the training field and in battles, he needed the practical. He felt it, urgently, while he was in that barren forest, fighting his sensei's murderers. Losing to them, more precisely, with humiliating helplessness.
Chouji's hand curled into a fist. Ino was right.
He had to get stronger, and stop wolfing down platefuls like a hog. No Ichiraku today.
'Well... maybe later', he sadly thought to himself, taking the road to his family's training grounds.
„Finally, we should keep in mind that Konoha does have one of the best healthcare systems currently operating in the world", Tsunade drew her trump card with false modesty. Stating the truth, how Leaf's medics were the best trained experts without par, would sound unnecessarily boastful. Kazuhito-san knew how things were, and he smiled a small, knowing smirk.
Negotiations of this kind were done beating around the bush with deceitful, polite smiles pulled over person's real state of mind. The best diplomats could read where they stood with their interlocutors from arches of eyebrows and corners of lips. Tsunade hated the charade, but Kazuhito-san seemed to be at the master level, and she wasn't willing to risk losing this chance. She smiled, piercing the man with her sharp, honey-coloured eyes.
Godaime Hokage glanced over his droopy, benevolent moustache and flat brown eyes, and had to wonder whether he was always this good at concealing his thoughts, or had the sheer necessity made him cunning on behalf of his young master. After all, Tsunade knew for a fact he had already seen Raikage and Mizukage, and was slowly traveling eastward. He had his dose of experience in talking with heavyweights.
Still, her last argument might have been just what it took to make the man stop his search in Konoha. Especially when his young master suddenly got caught in a long, grating coughing fit, as if on cue to add extra weight to her words. Kazuhito-san glanced at the boy behind him with obvious concern, and Tsunade's gaze followed.
'He's just a kid.'
The dark-haired teenager couldn't have been much older than Naruto. She gave a good look to his sickly pale skin and weary, skinny face, and frowned. Nakajima-sama kept his eyes on the floor and remained silent throughout the meeting, leaving his inherited subordinate to deal with the question of his future home.
Kazuhito-san cleared his throat. He was back in the mode.
„It is true, Hokage-sama. Konoha is well-known throughout the nations for its medic prodigies, as it is befitting for the largest shinobi village. What worries me, however, if I may be allowed to speak freely, is the very size of Konohagakure! The largest and the strongest are often the target of those who wish to overtake their place. Wasn't Konoha under attack a couple of years ago?"
Of course. Of course he would pull that one out. Tsunade's smile soured.
„You are well informed, Kazuhito-san. Konoha did suffer a combined attack of Oto and Suna three years ago, but as you might see, it recovered well and in record time. I might add there was minimum loss among village's civilians, and that the alliance between Konoha and Suna has been strengthened under the new Kazekage. Nakajima-sama wouldn't have to be worried, because he would be very well protected inside these walls, just as any other citizen of Konoha." She emphasized the last part to let them know Konoha had its pride. The kid might have been loaded and Konoha sure needed all the money it could get, but these guys needed to know he wouldn't have any special privileges just because he could flaunt his cash around.
Kazuhito-san slowly nodded.
„Right, Hokage-sama. Well, this conversation was certainly informative, and we would have to think things through to act in Nakajima-sama's best interest." The man offered her a broad smile and bowed his head. „We would like to meet with you again tomorrow, after a good night's sleep."
Tsunade nodded with a tight smile, restraining from rolling her eyes.
Kotaro and Kazuhito-san had an agreement. Even though technically speaking he was the one who got to make the calls, the young Nakajima heir was forced into accepting a number of embarrassing compromises by his overly protective caretaker/subordinate. Being followed from the shadows while anonymously exploring his potential new home was one of them.
The sixteen-year-old shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his ragged costume. Having been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Kotaro didn't have the best idea of how an average civilian looked, so his disguise slightly missed the mark. Instead of making him blend in with the crowd, the tatters drew a plague circle around him – making Konoha passersby keep an eye both on him and on their wallets.
But Kotaro didn't notice. His thoughts were too engrossed in other matters.
The point of this little field trip was to gain first-hand experience of the place he might one day call home, but his mind kept straying to the land that held the title for so long.
His eyes followed the street ground, but what he saw was the old house. The way it was not so long ago, when he would walk into his grandpa's study and read the numerous scrolls neatly stacked on the old man's desk. When grandpa would blow smoke from his pipe and Kotaro would inhale the well-known smell that made his eyes watery. When he still had his special spots and places. When, in short, he wasn't the only one left.
With grandpa's death, rebels rose their heads, and another embarrassing compromise was made. The life for the land. Which made Nakajima Kotaro the richest wanderer in the world, an uprooted plant searching for a new part of the soil where he and several loyal men could settle down.
There would never be such place that could replace what he had lost, so Kotaro would have to resign with another compromise. He was sick of them. He was sick anyway.
The boy coughed to his sleeve, trying to keep it quiet and subtle inspite of the burning sensation in his chest. He didn't want to risk his men suddenly jumping to the rescue and blowing his cover.
Hokage-sama listed medical supremacy as one of Konoha's advantages, and Kotaro could tell Kazuhito liked that, as cool as he tried to play it back in Hokage's office. Kotaro himself didn't have an opinion. He could see the benefits of the Leaf, but Konoha didn't make him feel anything. It was just another village, not so different from Kumogakure, Kirigakure and those countless little ones he had passed through so far. Once you excluded climate differences, the feeling – or the lack of it – was always the same.
'So why here? Or why not here, if it doesn't make a difference?'
Kotaro blinked hard a few times, making himself give more attention to the sunny, colourful buildings around him. He had to take this business seriously. Compromise. What's one more or less?
He walked for a very long time, seemingly in circles. He tried to will himself into liking it, and stared hard at the houses and the people, but wasn't quite able to shake off the clinging impassiveness, even while staring at the amazing sunset firing up the giant, carved Hokages.
The faces he saw were strangers, as distant to him as the clouds in the sky. None looked his way, none deigned him with a glance.
Kotaro was getting weary, and his weakened heart was moaning in protest. The stomach ganged up with his tired limbs and rumbled loudly, insisting on returning back to the hotel room. But something in the boy refused to go back just yet. The thought of meeting with Kazuhito-san, who would shower him with tiresome questions and concern.
Noticing a ramen stand not far from him, he delved dipper into his pockets, absentmindedly searching for his wallet. The stomach growled and complained, and he was getting impatient when he suddenly remembered he forgot to move the money from his fine clothes to the rag he wore. Kotaro froze and then his whole body sighed.
He stood in front of the half-covered entrance to the ramen stand with a pitiful look on his pale, skinny face, still reluctant to let go and head back.
Chouji mopingly dragged himself towards Ichiraku. He felt more than starving – his body cells were absolutely drained. There was a hollow pit where his stomach once was, and he knew the two coupons could do little to cover it. He'd be running up a bill tonight, yes sir, he would.
Every step was a hungry cry, and the trip never seemed longer. Finally, big red letters announced that he reached his destination. His tired, swollen feet daydreamed of slumping onto the ramen stand's stools, and his tongue yearned for the salty goodness, but his eyes had enough consciousness of their own to notice a guy, staring forlornly at the shop. Chouji noticed because the guy looked as hungry as Chouji felt.
He took in the shabby clothes the boy wore, and understood the dull look in his eyes. Still, he shrugged, because his legs were telling him they were his first priority and they were making a good point. Chouji waved off the fabric that covered the sight at the bar, and smiled when he spotted Naruto. The blonde looked over his shoulder and grinned with his mouth full, raising chopsticks in the air. „Chouji!"
„Hey there, Naruto! You got ahead of me!" He sat next to his friend. Chouji's body cried in blissful relief. The comfort was not quite there yet, though.
Teuchi-san turned to greet his new customer with a smile. „Welcome back, Chouji-kun! What will it be today? Pork?"
Chouji nodded. „Yes, sir! And make it a..."
The boy glanced at the two scraps of paper he had produced from his pocket. They lay in his palm.
Chouji's brow furrowed. He kept silent long enough for Teuchi to repeat his question. „What will it be, son?"
The young Akimichi broke from the trance. „Uh, make it one pork, please."
„One pork coming."
Chouji's fingers closed over the two colourful coupons, while he peeked behind.
Well, he had already promised himself he would be running up a bill that day, anyway.
Kotaro stared at the off-white piece of cloth that still swung from the motion, prompted by the fat guy's entrance. His eyes moved to the legs behind the stools, which were the only visible parts of the lucky bastards who could afford to eat. It was very ironic how Nakajima Kotaro, currently the richest guy in Konoha, was envious at a couple of common shinobi over a bowl of simple ramen. It was also very ironic when the fat guy from the moment before rose and approached Kotaro, making him regret his edgy, hungry thoughts momentarily.
At first, he didn't understand what the fatty wanted. Then he noticed the armour plates and the Konoha hitai-ate, and thought he had been found out, but the guy didn't show any sign of recognition. In fact, he had walked over to Kotaro with a slightly awkward expression, and smiled with his hand on his neck.
„Hey, I have an extra coupon and don't know what to do with it. You want it?"
Surprised, Kotaro eyed the light-green piece of paper in the chubby's hand. This sort of thing never happened to him, and he observed it with caution. He wanted to decline, but the doubts wavered when his stomach protested with a moany, howling wail.
„Seriously. I already have one." The fat boy was looking at him with a compassionate, knowledgeable expression.
Kotaro slowly nodded. „H-hai. Arigato gozaimasu."
Kotaro didn't know how exactly it happened, but he found himself sitting at the bar of an 'Ichiraku Ramen', with an unknown young shinobi and some friend of his. He showed the server the light-green coupon he got, and in a matter of minutes a hot, steaming bowl of actual food stood before him. Kotaro stared in wonder.
The fat guy, whom the other one called Chouji, continued wolfing down his portion beside him without many words. He had only asked him whether this was his first time in Konoha. The question might have aroused his suspicion if it weren't pretty obvious that this Chouji wasn't that much interested in the answer, and asked only to break the awkward silence. The blond guy looked at him in amazement when Kotaro conversationally admitted that he had never been to a ramen bar before. The blond was very attentive when Kotaro brought the first bite to his mouth.
The savoury goodness spread through his gustatory buds like a wave of pure happiness, and Kotaro sighed in content, instantly warming up. He had just realized something.
„This is the best ramen I ever tasted", he admitted, surprised himself.
The blond in the orange jumpsuit grinned at him with a „Yosh!", and Kotaro felt like he had just been accepted into some secret ramen-loving fan club. It was a surprisingly good feeling.
He continued to enjoy the salty treat, filling up his yearning stomach while listening to the two ninja's casual conversation. It was mostly revolving around different types of ramen and the subtle variations in the taste and the making. Nobody he knew talked about such things, not with him, at least. They didn't ask him any more questions, but Kotaro felt that they didn't mind his presence.
After a few more bites, another two young shinobi entered the ramen bar and sat down. Kotaro couldn't really ignore that the seat next to him was now occupied by a rather pretty girl with long blond hair and shimmering eyes (he only managed to take a furtive, blushing glance from the corner of his eye, but he could swear her eyes were shimmering). His table manners immediately suffered because, with the blondie by his side, Kotaro's self-consciousness awoke as if by an alarm-clock, and the longish noodles kept slipping off his chopsticks. He almost choked to death when the girl turned her head and spoke in his direction:
„I knew we'd find you here. I was just telling Shikamaru."
Kotaro bumped himself into the chest to make the stuck-up bite slide down his throat, flushing like mad and wondering who the hell was Shikamaru, when he realized she wasn't talking to him.
The fat boy spoke over the sound of Kotaro's coughing. „I've been training with my dad and only came here just now." His words were slightly on the defense.
The eye-shimmering blond lit up. „That means you still got your coupons! Neh, Chouji-kun, would you give me one of them?" she asked with the sweetest voice Kotaro ever heard.
„Sorry, Ino, but I already used one and gave the other one away."
It was the other blond's turn to frown. The guy in the orange looked at Chouji. „You gave a free coupon away? Who did you give it to?"
Kotaro could feel his ears turning red as everyone's attention was drawn to him. He tried to keep eating, more carefully. The heir-in-disguise noticed the girl (Ino-san) checking over the rags he wore with suspicion, and Kotaro instantly regretted the disguise. He was grateful for it the moment later, however, when he realized the new guy, who had come together with the girl, was looking at him longer than necessary. Kotaro rose his gaze to the guy with a spiky pony-tail, and thought he had seen a flicker of recognition in the young shinobi's beady eyes. Before he could start panicking and thinking up excuses, the spiky-haired ninja shrugged and turned his attention to the ramen-bowl before him. „Arigato, Teuchi-san."
Kotaro sighed with relief, wondering at the strange development.
However, the orange guy was still not ready to drop the subject. „You gave him a free Ichiraku ramen coupon? Wow, Chouji, you must be a bigger man than I thought!"
Kotaro wasn't a trained shinobi, but even he could tell that a wave of darker chakra or whatever suddenly washed over the ramen stand. And not just because Ino-san and the spike-haired guy started waving around warningly at the whiskered blond, who was currently cowering under the heated gaze of Kotaro's benefactor.
„What did you just say? Naruto!"
„Eh, calm down, Chouji! I didn't mean it like that!"
„Who's a big man here?"
Even though the tension palpable in the air made him hunch his back and pick up his eating pace, for some weird and inexplicable reason Kotaro felt in these complete strangers' company more at ease than he ever expected to feel again.
Kazuhito-san had the parting answer prepared. It was the same he had already given to the Raikage and Mizukage.
'Thank you very much for your time and your offer, but we would like to see other places as well before making the final decision.'
He nodded when Tsunade-sama smiled at him with her sharp, untrustworthy honey-coloured eyes and asked him if they had come to the decision. Kazuhito-san opened his mouth to utter the polite, evasive phrase, when another voice cut in.
„Hai, Hokage-sama. After giving it some thought, I think I would like to settle down in Konoha, with your permission."
Tsunade didn't know who was more surprised at Nakajima-sama's unexpected involving in the conversation – she or Kazuhito-san. The deputy looked as if he had just suffered a heart attack. Godaime Hokage felt as if she had just won a humongous lottery, and immediately became suspicious of the win, just as she always did considering her luck. It was too good and too unexpected to be true.
She spoke up before Kazuhito-san had a chance to meddle in the affair and try to save what could be saved. „You wouldn't believe how glad I am to hear that, Nakajima-sama – but I'm just curious. What made up your mind?"
Kotaro didn't answer immediately, but when he did, it was with unstrained ease and a slightest touch of mischief.
„A big-boned fellow showed me the best ramen I've ever had."
Kazuhito-san's jaw dropped, as he probably wondered whether his young master's heart disease somehow managed to climb all the way up to his brain.
'Ramen? ... Naruto? But no. Big-boned. Akimichi then.'
Tsunade met Kotaro's calm gaze and nodded. She understood.