I don't own Naruto, but it means a lot to me.
"So... You're saying I'm fat?
Sakura levels an annoyed glare, leaning forward in her desk and resting her elbows on the pile of charts and figures strewn about.
"Again, no." She answers. "I am not calling you fat. Don't attempt to project your notions onto my medical diagnosis. It's not accurate and it's not healthy for you."
"Well, I'm not sure how else I'm supposed to take the statement 'we need to talk about your eating habits'?" He retorts.
"Because your eating habits are exactly what we need to discuss."
"Listen, I like eating." He counters. "Barbecue and seafood and ramen make me happy, and I don't want to stop doing something that makes me happy."
"I am not telling you to stop eating what makes you happy, Chouji." Sakura answers, her lips drawn in a tense line. "The problem I'm addressing today is that I have seen you publicly challenge no fewer than four strangers to binge eating contests in the last two weeks."
For a moment, the man is cowed.
"Ah…" he hesitates. "It was just some fun with the people, Sakura! It hasn't been that many times."
"Oh really?" The pinkeye counters, leaning into a nearby notepad and scanning her finger down the lines.
"April 14th, ramen. April 19th, hibachi. April 22, steak house. April 25th, fair grounds. April 27th, ramen with Naruto. April 29th, ramen with Naruto, again."
Sakura lets her voice trail off, but presence leaves no doubt.
"Do I need to continue?"
The list had ushered an air of shame, but head of the Akimichi household rebounds. His brow sets in defiance.
"I am an Akimichi, Sakura." He asserts, puffing his chest wide and rising to his full height. "It is by our girth that we protect the city. Our bodies are the walls that shield our home from certain destruction!"
The mans face is so eager, so filled with his reality that Sakura almost groans. He's as bad as Naruto sometimes.
"Which is all well and good." She answers, grabbing a section of charts and tossing the forms across her desk for the Akimichi's grasp. "But I am your doctor, and I am telling you that you need to start cutting back because that instability and binge eating in your intake isn't something your body can handle, anymore."
Like a ballon that's run into a needle, Chouji's posture deflates. He shifts, his righteous protest faltering as he tries to salvage his resolve that's slipping through his fingers like popcorn kernels.
"My expansion techniques need my size, Sakura!" He exclaims, striking a heroic pose as though it accented his point. "You know this. The bigger I am, the easier it is for me to crush our enemies! If I stop eating, all that goes away."
A single eyebrow arches.
"Mhmm." She says. "Been crushing a lot of enemies, lately?"
Choji coughs. The ceiling was suddenly far more interesting than a moment ago.
"Well, I...I mean..." The room was so hot. Was anyone else hot? Someone should crank the AC.
"It's not easy being the clan head. I don't have the time to go out as much as I want to."
Sakura's lips purse, and she sings a "mHmm" in reply.
"When was the last time you fought an enemy ninja?" She pries. "When was your last active mission?"
Choji's hand rolls up and meaty fingers start to countdown. That is, tries to start to countdown. The enthusiasm he gathers fizzles like dust in a tornado, both parties condemned to just stare at the man's fingers as he desperately attempts to remember the last time he had done something more demanding than sit in a board room. He continues for as long as he can, but deflation comes.
"Is it..." This time his voice isn't proud. It isn't boastful or large or trying its best to cling to the life it knew. Choji's voice is small, and more than a little scared. It doesn't suit him, and Sakura can't fight her frown.
"Is it that bad?"
The pink haired woman shakes her head, offering the most reassuring smile she can to her patient.
"No, its not, and I will reiterate this is not commentary on you or your weight." She insists. "But you aren't fighting anymore, nor are you training for combat. Your body doesn't demand sustenance like it once did, and your lifestyle needs to change accordingly."
The Akimichi clan head looks up, his eyes vulnerable in a way makes Sakura's heart ache. It was like this, sometimes. She hates being the bad guy. Can't do this, you need to stop that. It was always so hard. But the burden of the physician was to heal, not to placate.
"I guess..." Choji says slowly, shifting back in his seat. "I guess I have started to let myself go..."
Sakura says nothing, but her expression shifts in compassion.
"I just...I never thought I'd be in this is position."
It's a somber declaration, and the words drown in a feeling that tastes on the air like hopelessness. The feeling is so utterly foreign to both it feels like a disease.
"Chouji." She counsels, and her eyes try and convey the support she feels. "You are far from the only shinobi whose life is changing with age. This is perfectly natural."
He meets her reassurance but allows a nervous cough in reply. His eyes dart to the window, the sprawling metropolis Konoha has become shining in the distant. It's so foreign.
"You know," he offers. "My dad used to have feasts delivered to our rooms every night when the five nations first met. My cousins and everyone — he'd yank us out of out of bed to eat in the middle of the night."
"'You never know', he used to say, 'when your next meal comes in a war.' He'd bring us food almost constantly, but we'd burn through it just as fast. Used to sometimes happen even before the war."
There's a pivot in the Akimichi's voice, and it's a feeling that resonates in Sakura's soul. A memory that she doesn't have but knows so intimately it could be her own.
"We're not at war, anymore." Is her reply, voice adrift in a shared haze. It's a thought she has to reminder herself of, and it lingers like a pressure in the room. Chouji is silent for a moment, but nods.
"Yeah…yeah." He answers. "We haven't been for decades." His voice swimming in a stream of memories. "But it just…it's just hard to…"
His voice trembles and falls off, but Sakura's hands reach across the table and grasp on to his. They both appreciate the warmth.
"I know, Chouji." She says. "I know. We're with you."
It's another minute of silence before either speaks, but the Akimichi head rises without a word but a chuckle.
"Alright." He says. "Alright. I'll make some changes if that's what you think, Doc." Sakura beams.
"I'm happy to hear it." She replies. "Want to talk more about plans over lunch?"
This time, it's Chouji who beams, his deep laugh rumbling through the office as he extends his arm.
"It would be my pleasure, Sakura-chan!" Sakura loops her arm through his, and the duo push out towards the city. As the doors close, the final comment heard from the Akimichi is:
"But no weird diets, right?"
This one was weird to write, but I hope you liked it.
