Suzu: I'm not a funny person… But thank you so much for making me feel like I am, for a while. Well, for the ~4 chapters left.
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Chouchou deposits the shiny new packaging into her bag, before flipping over the first page. Carefully. Tenderly. Devotedly. Heck, she'd even staved off an afternoon bag of chips so she wouldn't dirty the cover with oily fingerprints. After all, Sumire would get second dibs on the magazine, and Chouchou couldn't hold the girl to Akimichi maintenance standards if she didn't first keep 'em.
"Whatcha readin'?"
"Buzz off, losers. I'm busy."
With a decisive flap of the book spine, Chouchou's face disappears, replaced by a man (woman? creature?) with a very pointy chin and large, beseeching eyes shining with pearlescent tears, while adorning the front page in the company of many, questionably tasteful flowers. It's all very mysterious… and pink.
Shikadai sniffs. "Eh, it's probably one of those girly comics again."
"Oh. I'm just glad she stopped reading them aloud at field practice," Inojin sighs. "Dad got into one for a while because of her. 'Doki Doki Rabu Harto', I think." His pale face pales further. "It was terrible. Mom nearly tossed him out the window when he fed her some cheesy lines from it."
"Oy, earth to crazy woman." Shikadai waves a hand over the cover, right above Chouchou's quivering hair buns. "Maybe be a little more discreet. The Rokudaime's about to introduce the Nanadaime now."
Not that they wanted to hear the introduction speech, particularly. It would likely be mercifully short, refreshingly blunt, and laughably off-topic. Nothing personal against the late great Copy-Nin Kakashi-sama, or course, but some of the new chuunin were certain he'd copied his ceremonial speech for the finals right out of Jiraiya's Tale of a Gusty Ninja.
"Oh my gawd, Mariko! Don't do it!"
"Uh, hello everyone!" the sound system screeches to life. "Sorry about that."
"The Rokdaime actually apologized for something," Shikadai frowns. "Must've eaten something weird for lunch."
"Mariko! Slap that sl—!"
"—Ut-most joy, this morning, to give these brief remarks in commemoration of our Nanadaime's tenth year in off—"
"Fists aren't gonna cut it! How could she? All this time, Saya was after Mariko's dad! What a—"
"—Twist that someone could work from zero to become our village's strongest and most be—"
"—Loved him for years, though." Chouchou trembles. "I mean, I kinda understand her."
"What?" Inojin asks. "You have an Electra Complex?"
"No way! But this guy's a total silver fox—"
"—and all the other jinchuuriki could now promote harmony among the great nations. You are one of a kind, Naruto."
Shikadai scowls at his teammate. "Keep it to yourself, Chouchou."
"I can't." Inojin freezes as the magazine lowers. Against all logic, Chouchou's pouring tears while grinning at the same time. "Now I can't say who I'm rooting for Saya to end up with. The boy in her class is cute, but he's such a child. And Mariko's dad has been lonely for so long since Mariko's mom died! Oh-hum. I suppose admiration can turn to love. True love—"
"—For the village knows no boundaries."
"Unexpectedly touching speech." A pat on the shoulder makes Inojin whirl around. "Oh, hey Sarada! Your dad was looking for you earlier." He pauses at the ghastly looking pallor on his friend's face. "Um, are you feeling okay? You don't look so good."
"G-Give me that magazine…" is the answering rasp. Not quite zombie-like, but ok, a wee bit disconcerting.
Speaking of zombies: At the sound of her best friend's voice, Chouchou finally lowers the pages a fraction.
"Sa-ra-da," the Akimichi huffs. "You know you get third dibs! I would've given you second, since you're my best friend and all, but you said you didn't like this stuff."
"Research purposes," comes the tired, weary groan back.
"Mitsuki's rubbing off on her," Shikadai whispers to Inojin.
"Where is that guy, anyway?" Inojin hums. "I haven't seen since yesterday. I know this part's boring, but there's always the gala feast tonight. Sarada, do you know if Mitsuki's coming?"
"Guh…" says Sarada absently, as she's furiously scanning the magazine over Chouchou's shoulder (what is in those stories? Shikadai thinks. Addictive narcotics?). "I haven't heard from him either."
"We should try asking Boruto."
"He's all the way up there in the family box, though. We're not cleared as ANBU."
Shikadai taps the preoccupied-looking Sarada. "Sarada, you go ask Boruto, then."
And here, Sarada's Sharingan flashes on.
"I'm not asking anyone anything 'ttebasa!"
The boys debate whether to tremble in fear or ask her what she's eaten for lunch. But then, with great solemnity, Chouchou lowers and folds over her magazine. "Sarada, calm down. I now understand how much 'Doki Doki Rabu Harto' means to you. Take this newest issue in exchange for my stupid teammates' lives. And you two losers… You're welcome."
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tbc
Suzu: galas, dances, and protective parents next. You can pry my cliches from my cold, icy fingers. D:
