Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.

Chapter 2 – Chouji

Steeling his emotions, Genma began the most difficult speech he'd ever given or would give, in his entire life.

"You might ask what qualifies me to tell you their stories, what gives me the right to deliver a eulogy for those who were born to such greatness? Why am I the one? Why me? Well, I've asked myself those same questions, and I don't know, I can't tell you there isn't really anything special about me, except that I got to know them. What I can tell you, is the how, which is that everyone else who could claim to know them better is gone. Dead. Rotting. They're gone, and now I'm the only one who is left that can let you know how great they truly were, how big a difference they really made, and how awful it feels to know they're gone. I knew them pretty well. Not so much as a parent, sibling, or teacher might, but more than most; something that I consider a great privilege. I was there for their first chunin exams, as well as their subsequent ones, their jonin exams, their ANBU inductions, even for the inauguration of three Kage's. I was around for it all; witness to failures, betrayals, and murders. I've seen them all at their lowest and darkest hours, and I've seen every single one of them crawl their way out of depths so deep you can't imagine to climb their way out into the light and be the people that we needed them to be. I've watched as children became adults, as youthful ideals were made a reality, and I've seen the amazing changes that can happen when the most amazing people I've ever met found something that was more important than all of them. Something that was worth everything to all of them.

I was there to watch a motley crew of genin grow up to be legends, an experience that I wouldn't trade for anything. Yet it's hard, because the problem with heroes is that most of them die heroically and you're left behind wishing they were still here with you, still here making your life a little better just by being in it, and it hurts. The world they left behind is a better one, and it's because they believed it could be. A world on its way to being united in a way that my generation never dreamed of, and it's because of them. Where once stood a land of warring shinobi villages now stands a world poised on the precipice of peace, and all because those little brats found a dream that they all thought was worth dying for, a dream that was far better than anyone had ever thought. It was a dream that everyone told them was impossible. Fortunately for us, impossible wasn't a word they understood.

Those 13 shinobi forged bonds of friendship that expanded across the globe and taught me, a man 15 years older than most of them, a lesson. Well, to be honest they taught me many lessons, but the most important one was that your friends, your comrades are more important than anything else. Those special people, the ones most precious to you, they're worth more than any amount of money, more important than fame, and far more significant than any mission. And that's a very difficult thing for a ninja to admit to himself, let alone say out loud. But I know it's true, and I know every single one of them believed it completely. Lucky for all of us that they thought of all of us as their precious people, huh? So while I wish they could all still be here with us and that I didn't have to miss them quite so much, I know they wouldn't have it any other way. The passing of each of them left me with holes in my heart that got bigger with each and every one of their deaths' and the only way I know how to fill them in is to talk about them.

Chouji was the first to fall. It was during the fifth day of the Sound invasion led by that abhorrent and found amalgamation Kabuto had allowed himself to become when he opened his body up to Orochimaru. Our forces had nearly been overwhelmed on the northern border of fire country and things were not looking good. We had been surprised by their attack, and reinforcements had failed to arrive from Suna yet. Our border troops had been made up mostly of chunin and a few jonin commanders, and two ANBU, and they stood little chance of holding the lines against the frightening might of the Sound forces. They were worn down and hoped only to buy their messenger enough time to get news of the invasion to the Hokage.

Chouji was returning from a visit to Suna. He'd made the trek out there for the birth of Ino's second daughter, and happened to hear the sounds of battle on his way home. As one of the ANBU resigned to my fate that that day was going to be the one I died for my village I can tell you that the sight of that spiky meatball enlarged to the size of a house tearing through the forest, felling trees and ripping apart enemy shinobi made my breath catch and his battle cry echoing across the battlefield made my heart soar. He must have done the same for those around me as well, because soon everyone was fighting with renewed vigor, the lines reformed and Konoha took back what was theirs to claim victory that day.

I can remember clearly looking around the decimated forest, at the devastated remains of shinobi strewn across the battlefield, thinking that jutsu did things to the human body that nightmares are made of, when I saw our savior slouched against the torn up stump of a tree. Blood covered his whole body, I'm sure it wasn't all his, but it made for a gruesome scene anyway, he face was pale, and when he took his next breath he coughed up even more of that crimson substance. I didn't have to be a medic to know he wasn't going to make it.

I saw him lying there and nostalgia filled me. I remembered his first chunin exam, when he lost his match quicker than I'd ever seen anyone lose, faster than I'd thought was possible, and to this day he still holds the record for the shortest match in a qualifying exam. Recalling him asking for BBQ chips as they took him away on the stretcher, I chuckled. There on that battlefield of destruction I found myself laughing at how absurd the whole thing was. The entire Sound attack turned back because of that rolley-poley goofball.

I'd always heard that Chouji was too sweet to be a ninja, that he was too kind hearted for the shinobi lifestyle, but it was that great big heart that made him one of the very best. Chouji had room in that giant heart of his for everyone in our village. He loved us all more then he loved himself. Konoha and the idea that we could befriend our enemies were more important than even his own life, and so he gave it up to protect us.

I walked over, on that terrible day, to where he was lying on the ground, and when he recognized me he smiled, and it was beautiful; despite the blood surrounding him Chouji shone like a star.

'Genma,' he said. 'Tell her that as far as I'm concerned she's won, in life and love, and let him know that he is as good as everyone says he is, even if he is a little lazy.'

I told him no problem, but that we were going to get him a medic and he'd be okay, that he'd be able to tell them himself, and I wanted so much for it to be true. He laughed at me then, because we both knew it for the lie it was. He clasped his hand in mine to pull me close, and he told me that it was okay, that his sacrifice was worth it. Then he pushed something into my hand and whispered, 'tell them they'll have to share the last chip.'

Then the life left his eyes and his body went slack. I looked down at my palm to see a half eaten bag of BBQ potato chips and found myself smiling. As much as he'd changed, he'd still managed to stay the same. Many of you only know Akamichi Chouji as the big hearted warrior who always came through. Doubtless you've all been told about his heroic defeat of Jirobu, one of the illustrious Sound Four, and how he helped in the defeat of the un-killable Kakuzu of Akatsuki, and there is no way you could have failed to hear about his many exploits during the Third Great Ninja war. All of which are that much more amazing when you remember that he started his shinobi career as a kind, shy, young boy with few friends; ostracized for his size and frequently made to cry for being fat. It's strange to think that the image he longed to shed as a child became his greatest asset as an adult shinobi. It was only when a lazy cloud watcher and a noisy blond busy body saw his size and loved him anyway, that he realized his worth and found a reason to want to keep it. Shikamaru and Ino were Chouji's first precious people, unlocking the door for ten more to open up his heart, and from there the rest of us were given the great privilege to be allowed in.

Chouji's death was hard on them all. Up until then they had thought themselves invincible, indestructible, and even unstoppable; surviving countless battles that would have killed lesser individuals will do that to you. Chouji's death was reminder to all of them that they were in fact human and that sometimes even the best of us fall. Naruto sobbed at the funeral that there would never be another human being on earth that would understand his love of ramen quite like Chouji did. Sakura glomped him in the head and told him that was a stupid thing to bring up at a funeral, and then proceeded to talk about all the fun she'd had watching the food network with Chouji when they were supposed to working on new soldier pills for Tsunade-shishou. And the thing is, neither of those things was stupid because the little things like that are what keep shinobi sane and keep the darkness of what we do from closing in. Sai recalled the first and only time he called the Akamichi "Fatso" as a nickname. He said, 'Chouji taught me that bonds can overcome first impressions, because even though he was very angry and punched me in the face before rolling over me, he was one of the first people to accept me as the socially inept mess that I was, and I will miss him."

The Kazekage held a day of remembrance in Suna, something theretofore unheard of, honoring the soldiers of another village was just not done; it was just another example of how wonderful Konoha's Precious 13 were and the impact they had on the entire world. It was hosted by Gaara's closest advisor, and brother, Kankuro since he could not be there. He'd had to escort his wife to her teammate's funeral. Ino wept the entire three day journey to Konoha, yet not a tear escaped her once she passed the village gates. When Gaara asked her why, she said Chouji had told her when Asuma died that he never wanted to see her cry again and she wasn't going to let him. Hinata and Neji petitioned the Hyuga council successfully to have a large sum of money donated to Chouji's family so money would never be an issue. Kiba, and Kankuro at a different function, recounted the time the two leaf shinobi had shown up to save the sand puppeteer and the practically comical way in which their terrible teamwork had almost caused them to fail, while Shino praised him for his love of all creatures, big and small, including his reverent treatment of insects, specifically butterflies. Lee sobbed great big tears and loudly lamented that Chouji's life had ended before his springtime of youth had ended, to the point that Tenten had to pull him off the dais while quickly adding that she too would miss all the talks she and Chouji had had when he'd come in to get kunai for his jutsu. I even saw the stoic Uchiha shed a tear for Konoha's meatball. Yet I think it was Temari and Shikamaru that took his death the hardest. When she'd immigrated to the Leaf Village, besides Shikamaru, Chouji was the only one to welcome her with open arms. She counted him as a close confidant and true friend; it took her months to get back to her brash and insensitive ways. Shikamaru said he'd lose his twin soul and refused to eat for days. His already thin body was wasting away, until Ino showed up with a half eaten bag of stale chips that they ate together on a bench, staring up at the clouds, breaking the last chip in half and holding one another as they swallowed it.

Akamichi Chouji's death was a great blow to Konoha, one that the 13 never truly recovered from, and the start of an end to the greatest group of shinobi the hidden villages could have ever hoped for.

A/N: Any requests on whose eulogy he should give next?