He realized going out for barbecue after was a bad idea.
They sat in their usual booth. The usual platters of food were laid in front of them by the usual waitresses. Ino yelled at Choji and told him he'd eat himself to death from their usual seats.
That was the problem really. The empty seat.
Because it wasn't usual. All of them were wearing black, even Ino who claimed it was a horrible color and made her look washed out. Choji was chowing down without his usual gusto, Shikamaru suspected he was eating just for the sake of appearances. Ino hadn't even touched her plate, wasn't even pretending to push it around.
And him, well, he knew he wasn't his normal self. He was trying. Oh he was trying as hard as he could. He had slid down in the seat, expression carefully bored, but there was that cigarette he was twirling between his fingers absently, unlit, because he still hated the taste, but there, waiting.
Worst of all was the empty seat. His seat. They had tried to get Kurenai-sensei to come, Shikamaru realized now it had all been a subconscious attempt to fill that damned seat, but she had refused. She had probably been the only one in the right.
Shikamaru sighed, his best long drawn out, martyred sigh, as Choji finally pushed his plate away. That wasn't usual either. They were used to having to drag him out, kicking and screaming, cause he didn't have any more money, or so he claimed.
"Let's go I guess."
And that's when he noticed that Choji was crying silently into the plate and Ino's head was bowed. He stood up and pretended not to notice.
But he did. Because they had been a team before they were even a team. They had grown up with each other. They had always been Ino-Shika-Cho, even when Ino used to laugh at them and torment them, well, she still did that, but back when her idea of fun was to drop spiders and worms on them from above and laugh when Choji panicked.
They walked out together, Choji's silent crying turning into pathetic snuffling and Ino's face shining with tears. Shikamaru didn't cry. He just lit up and watched the smoke spiral up, up, up towards the heavens.
Life went on. They kept going. They had to. There was no choice.
There was still the king to protect. Still the will of fire to pass on, still burning inside each of them.
After the war, they started a tradition. Once a week, they treated Kurenai and her daughter, baby Emi, to barbecue even when Emi was too young to eat it.
Sometimes Shikamaru swears he can see smoke around Emi's head or fire in her eyes, but of course, that's ridiculous.
Even after all those years, they sit at their usual table, with their usual food, and their usual waitress. Ino scolds Choji who eats more than any human should be able to. Shikamaru groans and slides down and mutters about troublesome women while Emi smears barbeque sauce on anything in reach and Ino blows out their ear drums with her exclamations. It's a habit, you see, everyone knows it, and people smile when they see the dark haired little girl clinging to their hands or riding on their shoulders, even while Shikamaru grumbles and Choji eats and Ino smacks them both and yells.
And without fail, ever week, they always leave that empty seat. So that they remember.
A/N: Try to write about Team Gai and somehow Ino-Shika-Cho butt in and steal the show until you're writing about them. This is my first Naruto fanfic in forever and first fanfic in a few months so it may not be the best but I hopefully got their characters down alright. Hopefully you enjoy and if you did or have constructive criticism reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading! :)
