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Estranged.
It was the only word Ino could use to describe their relationship these days.
She winced at the thought. They weren’t supposed to be like this. No one knew when things had gone this wrong, but they were never supposed to. Ino-Shika-Cho wasn’t meant to fail, not this way. It hadn’t for generations, as they had inherited the strong bonds from their parents and grandparents at a very young age. Even before graduating from the academy, the love they felt for each other was so strong, that giving their lives to protect the other didn't require much thought. It was just there. They’d do it.
And then the war came. They succeeded, their teamwork flawless and their performance ‘heroic’, as it had been named by many. The hard part came after it ended.
In the aftermath of the war, so many friendships broke, so many teams disintegrated, some due to the death of one or more of their members. She tried not to think too much about those who were entirely wiped off. But the three of them were alive and well and there. Somewhere in between that, instead of getting better, instead of healing together like Team 7 did, something had gone terribly wrong.
Ino still had a wonderful relationship with Chouji (bless his heart, he could never do anything wrong). They shared meals, laughs and tears; memories and heartaches echoing through them as they reminisced the good and the bad, and hoped for a better future.
It was Chouji who brought her lunch on those days in the hospital when shifts were so harsh, she’d forget to pack something for the day. It was Chouji who she helped in training his aim when he needed a small enough partner to dodge him in Human Boulder form. It was Chouji, who stood by her side as she furiously wiped away her tears and replaced the old flower bouquet with the new one at her father’s grave. They normally thanked him for his duty as shinobi and father, for his sacrifice and his love for the world. Then they turned to the tomb beside his, engraved with the same epitaph: “An exceptional ninja of the Hidden Leaf. Believer of the next generation”.
The grave of a leader and a genius, a man with no flaws except his laziness and lack of being alive, so he could slap his son to the next country. Maybe that way he would wake up from whatever self-destructive haze he was living in. These days the only person Shikamaru hadn’t pushed away was Chouji, so much so that he didn’t even bother to go with them to the cemetery, to visit Kurenai-sensei, or even Barbeque nights. Training together wasn’t even in their agenda anymore. No Team 10 things left to do. It seemed that the only thing he and Ino had in common as of late was their dead fathers.
It was easy to think that Shikamaru was the problem, but she would be lying if she said she thought that to be the truth. It was Chouji who called her on it one day when they were at his family’s restaurant and she had been complaining for the past half an hour about Shikamaru’s new habits. She’d asked repeatedly if the years they spent together, if the missions, the close calls and saving one another more times than they could count meant nothing. If whatever sort of friendship-turned-relationship (they didn’t last long, they’d been dating for four months when the war broke out and they called it off) was something he could throw away so easily. Was it Asuma’s death? Was it Neji’s? Shikaku’s? Her dad’s?
Because he was such a good friend (the kind you hate at times because you don’t want them to call you on your bullshit but they do nonetheless), it was ultimately Chouji who decided it had been enough. One day he called them to the Yamanaka Mountains, to the training ground her clan had given him and his dad and yelled at them for the next five minutes, painful needles to the heart in the name of being tired of dealing with Ino’s loud anger and Shikamaru’s much quieter one at whatever the fuck was going on between them, of how dare they do this to themselves, but most importantly, how dare they do this to their clans, to their fathers’ legacies.
He stormed off with the threat that if they didn’t solve their situation, they were going to fuck up clan alliances and disappoint him to the point he wouldn’t know if he could count on them anymore. Ino’s blood went cold at the thought (even though clan alliances were a delicate subject, the second scenario was much, much scarier) and knew, with the amount of conviction that she hadn't had in years, that even death would be better than losing Chouji at this point.
It was silent for the longest time until it was not, and Ino smiled to herself, immensely relieved that Shikamaru still had something that anchored him to the ground. Chouji had the greatest way of being just who you need at the right time, whether you hate him or love him for it.
“We almost made it.” He was speaking to her for the first time in weeks, so even though she was almost sure she understood what he was talking about, she still put her shields down for confirmation. She quickly lifted them again, heart knotting in her throat because she knew. She knew but she often avoided it because it was painful and didn’t let her sleep at night. It wasn’t the kind of thought that allows you to be happy.
It hurt to know that maybe if they’d tried harder or done things differently, or maybe even if the war had never happened, they could have made it. It was all just wishful thinking and Ino knew living in that uncertainty would never bring anything good, but it still hurt, and for once she wanted to share it. So she did.
“Maybe we could’ve.”
He sighed and she didn’t have to read his mind for this one. It would hurt more. Instead, she stared at the ground, chest screaming in agony.
“Maybe we should’ve.”
Ino felt herself short of breath, hearing more than feeling something break inside of her in a million pieces. She looked up at him, tears blurring her vision. Her lip quivered at the sight of him and Shikamaru’s broken voice once again spoke the words sitting in her mind. A boxing ring, both of their hearts oh so tired of fighting, but they’d been doing it for so long nothing else seemed right.
“Don’t worry. Mine is also black and blue.”