PART 3.

"Stop for a second and think about things objectively, okay? Let me explain." Inojin used his hands to paraphrase, as if he was teaching a child how to speak, opening his mouth wide with each little word. "Our world was destroyed, we were swallowed by a gigantic piece of paper, and thrown into a miserable time where we are nothing. We have no roof over our heads, trust in the world is doubtful, and you care about ketchup-flavored chips?!"

"Tomato Fries." ChouChou corrected, boredom appearing on his face. "But I don't really care about them so outrageously, I don't understand why you're making a fuss. You're making a fool of yourself."

"What…? Me?!" The Yamanaka boy shook his head, and as if it were a no-brainer, he pointed at the store in front of them with a horrified expression. "Shikadai ordered us to look for cheap provisions, and you stopped to stare at a fried food store for twenty minutes! Twenty minutes!!"

ChouChou covered her right ear with an annoyed expression. Inojin wasn't one to shout in public, but she blamed the situation that (she assumed) was making him anxious.

"The problem isn't the Potatoes, but what comes with them afterwards." The Brunette grumbled. "Doesn't it sadden you that the things you like are destined to never exist again?"

"I'm sure it wasn't a genius who invented those damn potatoes." Inojin complained. "I could do it, maybe that could get us out of poverty and turn dust into fortune to convince Mirai-san, and get us as far away from this country as possible."

Apparently, Inojin hadn't picked up on ChouChou's attempt to make a clear message to nostalgia. Or maybe he had, but he refused to give ChouChou the satisfaction thanks to being annoyed.

She often compared Inojin to her own mother, and even when the palest of them complained about the clan leader back then, ChouChou argued to herself that Inojin didn't need THAT monthly detail to make him irritable every day.

"I don't mean that! Oh, whatever…" He sighed. "Let's find a cheap place, buy what we can afford, and look for Shikadai. Seeing this kind of thing already gives me the creeps."

ChouChou made the initiative to wave her hand, bored by the situation of thinking about potatoes that no longer existed, and began to walk down the busy street of the holiday village they had come across.

If Sarada was right, this was where the Feudal Lord had his oldest home, and where they suspected Mirai would attack. They killed time by going back and forth, looking for supplies in case that wasn't the case, and they had to walk further.

But after a few moments, she felt Inojin match her pace after running towards her, walking alongside the brunette.

The paler one looked vaguely puzzled. He had an idea of the reason, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. ChouChou wondered if they would ever be able to even be surprised anymore, considering that their miserable situation had no history to guide them in dealing with conflicts emotionally.

"And I thought the only way to force you not to eat was to kill you or find a way to get Shinki to say something about it." Inojin said, his smug tone completely worn out.

The authority of who had more control over appetite no longer had any weight in the current scenario, and he knew it.

ChouChou made a whiny sound.

"How am I supposed to feel excitement about food, if the main source of that excitement is turned off? Huh?" He defended himself, without any encouragement. "You heard Grandma. We can't feel hunger, and Shikadai advised us to keep eating on a set schedule. We're like robots that have to be fueled… food doesn't even have a taste."

"Hm, um…" Inojin tried to protest, or even say something to appease that thought. But no matter how much he turned to look at the food stalls, he couldn't even smell the aroma of the dishes being offered under the midday sun. "Ugh , I'm not a fan of grease, and personally, I find it one of the most disgusting things you could eat at a decent table. But I'm looking forward to smelling at least a little of it…"He used his sense of smell to try to discern some familiar aroma, to no avail. "But… nothing, I don't even smell the charcoal from that grill."

"See, it's useless." ChouChou protested, turning the corner with the Yamanaka glued to his shoulder to avoid contact with people passing by. "Hey, stop doing that."

Inojin clucked his tongue. ChouChou was only a little taller than him, but for some reason, the paler boy tended to run on his walks. Only ChouChou knew the reason: He did it when he was anxious.

"You strike on food. I strike on people." He growled, annoyed because the fabric of his old cloak had half-brushed a woman's shoulder. "Ugh , if this keeps up…"

"Stop treating them like pests! What's going on in your head?" The one and only Akimichi grabbed Inojin by the shoulder, and although he still hadn't given up on his meticulous (and obvious) efforts to avoid people, he had calmed his pace. 

The brunette focused on not drawing attention to herself with her tone of voice, unlike Inojin, who had already done so by avoiding people as if they were some kind of orangutans in front of him.

"Remember what Shikadai said: Let's not draw attention to ourselves. I doubt Sarada, Boruto, and Mitsuki are avoiding these poor people, unless necessary. Can you control yourself, at least until I get away from you?"

"What are you trying to say with 'At least until I get away from you'?" The blond rolled his eyes. He wasn't angry, and he was already tired enough to make a scene. "Listen: We can't feel hunger anymore, any little damage we suffer could kill us… Oh! I almost forgot, how can I be so stupid?" Inojin gave himself a stupid hit on the head, and pointed at ChouChou with a frown, hissing his last words. "There are people who want us dead for some reason. We've had enough of that, and, I don't know about you, fatty, but I refuse to be ground meat for a group of social misfits who only kill because it's fun."

The shorter one crossed his arms. And, as he walked next to an Akimichi who was glaring at him with dead fish eyes, he leaned closer to ChouChou to avoid colliding with some children who were happily running down the busy street. The brunette complained as she was pushed further to the side of the street. The children weren't even close to Inojin, he was exaggerating in her eyes.

"You're just being superstitious." She growled.

"Call it what you want, I don't want to find out tomorrow that, 'Touching the Before People will make you wake up in little pieces' , after exchanging touches with some weirdo around here. Leave me to my thing, seal."

"Ugh…"

ChouChou sighed, almost disgusted by her childhood friend's audacity.

"Even though he was always like that, I don't know why I complain." She said to herself. "I guess that, when it was rewound, any maturity he had gained, went back to the beginning, huh…"

"You know, I may be superstitious from your point of view, but I'm not deaf." He said from beside her, grumbling. "What are Shikadai and the others looking for after all this?"

"Boruto and Shikadai will look for water and clues to Mirai-chan's whereabouts." She answered, absentmindedly. Ofteno was the one who claimed the position of solemnity between the two, but in the face of all this, ChouChou was already tired of questioning things. "Sarada and Mitsuki… well, they said they could manage outside. They agreed that they would look for possible places to spend the night, and make sure everything was okay outside the village. They do the same, but outside."

"You're not one for details, are you, fatty? With that thing about how you didn't care what they put in your food, and how much of it you put in your mouth."

A blood vessel was about to bulge on ChouChou's forehead, but she controlled herself. She wasn't being picky about Inojin and his comments; they were normal, and in fact, it would be worrying if, overnight, he were to talk to her about 'Chan' and 'It's not the outside that matters, but how you want people to perceive you!' or other nonsense that she wouldn't bother to tell.

What made her tired was the fact that Inojin wasn't being sincere.

"Look, what I said wasn't a lie, and I'll say it again." ChouChou began, taking a breath to calm himself down, and paused to find the right words. "If you're so scared, fine, you can be honest, but you don't have to shower others with your pessimism! You know..."

Inojin pursed his lips, and opened his eyes wide. ChouChou likened him to a servant who had been caught by a flashlight in the middle of the night. He saw no need to probe further, because Inojin's protest alone proved him right.

"Pessimistic…?! Me?! What do you want me to do? How do you want me to act?!" Inojin clenched his fists, and although ChouChou wouldn't say he was red in the face with anger, it seemed more like he was willing to contradict everything that had to do with the Past.

With an accusatory finger, he poked ChouChou's chest. She didn't flinch at his boldness, and only gave him her most bored expression.

"I can understand that we are forced to keep our distance, I can also accept that we move from one place to another like renegades. Fine! But, sacrifice myself for…?"

Inojin stopped, looked around, and carefully approached ChouChou to whisper near her ear.

"Sacrifice myself for these people?" He said, concluding his accusation. ChouChou widened his eyes in surprise as his companion puffed out his chest in offense, and crossed his arms, closing his eyes to the sky. "Ah-Ah. I refuse. I accept the fact that they have nothing to do with what happened to us, and I can let it slide if we don't involve one or two people. But this is different. I mean…! Why so many restrictions towards power figures that we no longer care about? We have too many things to worry about!"

"Hey, hey, just listen to what you're saying." Bewildered, ChouChou turns completely towards Inojin, to face him. "Do you realize that among those people you're downplaying, there might be a member of your family? You hardly seem like your usual fool!"

"Of course I'm considering that possibility! That's why I'm so angry, fatty!!"

Inojin's scream went out of orbit. The people who had previously passed by without even giving them a glance now couldn't take their eyes off them.

Although Inojin still had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and a helpless expression directed at his feet, ChouChou was still conscious, and smiled apologetically at everyone who watched them with concern.

"I'm sorry, excuse him! He's been very grumpy these days, you know how kids get~." 

He said to a man who walked past his family. Inojin gave him a disapproving look, but took it down when ChouChou shot him a glare, and dragged him to a corner, until he found an alley that served as a public storage for recycling from nearby shops.

After being practically thrown inside, Inojin groaned, adjusting his cloak around his shoulders. ChouChou confronted him.

"Can you tell me what the hell is happening to you?! Why are you suddenly so selfish? I thought you were just scared, not jealous!"

"Shut your mouth, you're being loud." Inojin growled, looking away.

But ChouChou had had enough.

She knew him more than anyone else, she even dared to say that she could beat Shikadai in one or two things regarding knowing Inojin.

This, taking into account that the three knew each other like thieves.

Although she would be the nail, and Inojin the dirt… then, Shikadai would be the one to clean the dirt? Ah, that wasn't important.

Anyway, if she said it out loud, she was sure Inojin would get even more irritating.

"Inojin."

He didn't answer. ChouChou closed his eyes.

"Hey, Inojin."

In a calm tone, she called out, but got no response. The Yamanaka frowned at the dirty, moldy wall, while his temples creased at the thought. Just seeing him like that frustrated her.

She had an idea of what was going through his head, and not seeing him talk about it and move on from the subject gave her a strange feeling of creepiness.

ChouChou put all the force of his rage into just two fingers, and all he had to do was stretch out his hand for the Yamanaka to start protesting. The silent treatment wouldn't work on him this time.

"A- Agh ~! It hurts! Ah…! What the fuck do you want, seal?!"

"Don't make a habit of this." ChouChou spoke, hiding his discontent as much as he could. Inojin rubbed his arm that had been pinched. "Speak up. Are you angry with your family for some reason?"

However, the Yamanaka didn't answer. With his hand still on his pinched arm, Inojin pouted slightly, looking away from ChouChou's yellow eyes.

The brunette wouldn't let it go easily; not when a good friend was having a hard time hiding whatever was eating him up inside. So, she did her best to think about her own situation.

The days before the Cataclysm.

To be honest, ChouChou had no clear memories of those days. Although she didn't think about it much, she would bet anything of importance (although she no longer had any important belongings left, if her earrings didn't count) that her vague memories were due to the cataclysm.

She could barely remember her parents' faces, and they hadn't even been in these conditions for a month.

How big was Dad's face? Was his stomach bigger or was it just an average obese person's stomach?

Was Mom very thin in comparison? Were ChouChou's eyes more orange than her mother's? Or was it the other way around?

She couldn't say for sure unless someone was there to confirm it. For the past few days, she's been fearing the worst.

"What if I wake up one day and I no longer remember who my parents were?"

His name… the name his father gave him. He had a story, and he loved to tell it!

He remembered the story, but he could barely remember the person who told it to him next: Dad.

So what was Inojin's problem? Did he have a similar problem?

"Hey…"

"Hm…" Inojin groaned, and unable to bear the uncomfortable tension, he let out a long, heavy sigh, holding his head with both hands. "Aaaaagggghhhhh !! I know, I know! I heard you! aahh…"

Obviously still uncomfortable, Inojin crossed his arms, his pampered expression changing to one of annoyance.

ChouChou decided to take seriously the future words that would come out of his mouth, even if his face said otherwise.

"… It's unfair." She blurted out without any filter. Inojin himself was someone with a sharp and poisonous tongue, but ChouChou knew that he was incapable of saying anything cruel towards his own blood, so it caught her off guard. 

I'd say Inojin wasn't sure of his own words, if I wasn't seeing the internal conflict through his blackened eyes.

"I just… don't like all this; hiding away, and them, who have already suffered the same as us in one way or another… being left alone. I don't think it's fair."

Inojin did his best to avoid eye contact, and he succeeded… halfway. While it was true that the Akimichi was unable to look him in the eyes, she could discern his emotions just by seeing the way his shoulders shook.

Sadness, Helplessness, Annoyance, Denial.

She had felt the same way, anyway, even just now, although she had resented some potatoes.

"It's not fair." Inojin sobbed. "It's not."

"Inojin…" Worried, but wanting to give him his space, ChouChou simply remained still, her gaze saddening.

The truth is, I couldn't do anything, even if I wanted to.

She, who no matter how many times she proclaimed herself a genius (she wasn't), was able to understand the simplicity of things: The people of the past were not to blame for the final result, and since their timeline was destroyed, no change or butterfly effect will affect them.

They had to let the world keep spinning, while they held on to their orbit, even if it was by means of a hook that could come loose at any moment.

Mixing up would be fatal, and ChouChou, who was unsure of everything Great Grandma told them, understood that it was dangerous.

"Forget it already."

"Uh?" ChouChou blurted out, surprised.

Inojin spoke bitterly. He wasn't one to act rashly, so she didn't have to take his honest accusation so hard.

"Forget it, leave that topic aside." The ash-blond grumbled . He wiped his face out of Akimichi's sight, and looked bitterly at the ground again, giving ChouChou a good view of his face, with the scratches from the cataclysm healing. "You better not say anything to Shikadai, I'm already too tired to deal with a good lecture as well."

ChouChou hardened his gaze, with a mixture of wanting to advise the palest, but also agreeing with him.

"Whatever, it's just my thing, don't think about it anymore." He looked away, disdainfully.

"Me too…"

"Shut up." Inojin warned, not waiting for ChouChou to obey in the first place. 

ChouChou was speechless. Honestly, she had nothing to add to Inojin's distrust and annoyance towards people from the past.

Of course, they were still people. Of course, in a way, they were still HIS people, weren't they, even if they were from different times.

But then, ChouChou had something that spun around in his head, like a top that had been wound up, and it spun rapidly inside his head.

Aren't adults supposed to protect children?

They were Ninjas, so there was no room for who deserved protection and who didn't. The answer was simple: They would protect the weak, period. But this kind of thing lost meaning when he thought about things in the current situation.

Among the people they must protect with their distance, there were Shinobis; Likewise, there were also Shinobis, once enemies of the people of their parents' Generation.

A cloud formed in ChouChou's head. Was he thinking too much? Was he even doing it right?

To begin with, when did she ever think about anything other than food? Shikadai always complained (albeit more discreetly than Inojin) that ChouChou usually didn't contribute anything when it came to ingenuity.

However, the times when he had brought out his discontent, were the times when the brunette never stopped questioning him about his plans, as if she were some kind of fool.

And she was beginning to believe it, if it weren't for the fact that Shikadai was admirable enough to retract his accusations and assure her that ChouChou was completely competent.

"Is this going to be one of those times?"

"Huh?"

"Y-You know." ChouChou clarified. Inojin looked at her with a frown of confusion. The brunette smiled, stunned by her own conclusion. "Those times… when I'm useless."

"Ah?!" Inojin spat. "What are you saying so suddenly?"

ChouChou closed his eyes tightly. He didn't want to lose sight of what he had visualized.

"Don't judge me! I heard your nonsense, S-So you listen to mine too…"

Inojin swallowed dryly, stepping back a little.

He had expected a different reaction; one that the normal ChouChou would have. But, just as ChouChou had expected from a normal Inojin, Inojin was puzzled by the Akimichi's behavior.

"I've noticed that everyone's been weird… obviously they've been thinking about it more since Boruto said that weird thing… That thing about him seeing the seventh in his dreams… What do I know!" ChouChou said, frustrated. "The thing is, you're not the only one. But… Grandma's right."

ChouChou slumped his shoulders.

"It's because I think of my family, that I unconsciously followed Shikadai. I know that, although he is blinded by Uncle Shikamaru's death and wants to put Mirai-san in her place, he is not so wrong. His intentions… are not bad."

"…"

The watery eyes of the only survivor of the Yamanaka clan were lost in nothingness, but focused on something in particular.

ChouChou's words weren't entirely wrong. Just like him, Shikadai wasn't someone who acted rashly… or so he would like to say. Well, he had the carefree nature of having a friend like Shikadai, but that's exactly why Inojin didn't put much faith in the ability to act without thinking… because he was his friend.

Shikadai could be thrown around when provoked. Sometimes, he might surprise himself at the kind of things he might say if he was blinded by rage, but he would apologize afterwards, slamming his forehead into the hard ground.

But Shikadai never had bad intentions. After all, he was following in Mirai's footsteps to convince her to take a step back, and be safe.

Inojin had even thought that, being Shikadai, he would propose to join her in whatever she wants to do, just to make sure that she lives; that the only thing that confirmed that Uncle Shikamaru once existed, is just as alive as them.

"Why did you agree to accompany Shikadai, if you were so indisposed?"

At a hesitant ChouChou's question, Inojin let out a dry, spiritless laugh.

He made a gesture, dismissing it.

"If I let him go like that, I wouldn't be able to imagine my mother again." He told her, with a hand on his hip, and sticking out his chest. He pouted slightly to one side, and muttered. "But there's no guarantee that I'll be able to remember her well next time."

ChouChou pretended he didn't hear the last part, and straightened up.

"You have no reason?"

"Do I need a reason to follow Shikadai?" Inojin looked offended. "You underestimate me, fatty. I'm not ungrateful, Shikadai wouldn't abandon me if I was the one running away."

"So?" ChouChou raised his hands to his chest. "If Shikadai were to hear you now, not only would he have several things to consider, but he would also disagree."

"That's why I told you not to tell him~! Jeez! Do you have grease on your ears too?" Inojin bared his teeth, and rolled his eyes at ChouChou, grumbling. She just frowned and pursed her lips. "Listen, I'm not going to run off and kill someone over there just because I'm angry. I'm not even angry to begin with; just a little frustrated."

Inojin's expression had changed. He was no longer angry, but still serious. With one hand on his hip, and slightly raising one of his feet in front of his shadow to distract himself, he spoke absentmindedly to a confused ChouChou.

"Sixteen years, right?" He said. "That's a long time, but still, everything is the same for everyone else…" In a nostalgic tone, Inojin sighed. The ground beneath his feet was more interesting to look at for him. "Everyone lives their lives normally, eating together and sleeping without worry. It may be wartime, but look, all these people are having fun under this damn sun. Ah…"

He sighed.

"And I don't want to be like those people my father talked about so much… the ones who think that others can't live in peace. I feel better if I live my life and others don't get involved. But… this is different. It's frustrating that I'm living in an anomaly and everyone who looks at us, looks at us as if we were just street urchins. It's unfair… they fear war… but they have no idea how terrifying it is to see how literally everything you know is swallowed up by a spiral. It doesn't seem fair to me, much less when there are people here who have the power to stop the war if we tell them how to do it; I just don't want to easily give them the peace that cost my Mom a father."

Those words were like a stake to the heart for ChouChou. To begin with, she was the only one of the three who had a living grandfather.

Shikadai and Inojin's grandfathers had died in the Fourth Great Ninja War… And to make it even more sad, they had died together; they had perished as old comrades in arms.

Akimichi Chōza is his grandfather, or rather, he was his grandfather… he lived before the Cataclysm Happened, and while ChouChou smiled foolishly when he remembered it now, back then, he liked his space and preferred not to frequent his grandparents' house… unless his grandmother made the food.

She did not grow up with stories of an absent grandfather, who gave his life for the peace of his family and its future members.

However, she herself had accompanied her two companions to visit the graves of both grandparents when the day was celebrated in which the Shinobis won the war for peace, and she had seen up close the pain of seeing the absence of someone who marked the life of one of your parents.

Besides, she knew all too well the strange respect that Inojin had for his people.

He might come one day, and brag about how his parents' saccharine behavior was annoying him. But ChouChou would tease him about the blush on his cheeks (which wasn't there), only to have that same blush appear an instant later in protest.

He loved his parents, like any child. But above all, he respected his mother.

Aunt Ino is not only sweet, but strong. She lost her father in the war, and at the time of his death, Aunt Ino, at only seventeen years old, was the head of her family, at the same time as Uncle Shikamaru.

Looking back, ChouChou couldn't help but think about his situation.

Inojin might be being selfish, but she didn't think he was wrong. People would be spoiled if things were given to them easily.

What would assure them that everyone would be okay, if they decided to go against Great Grandma's advice, and report everything to some figure of power? It was not an era of peace.

At worst, they would enslave them for profit, being of influential blood in Konoha.

"Maybe you're right." She mused. Inojin himself remained silent, making sure he heard her well. ChouChou stared into space, thoughtful. "I mean, it's not because I'm insensitive towards people... From before? Whatever... it's not that you're wrong." She corrected, this time, making sure to look Inojin in the eyes, with slight sadness. "Nothing promises that we'll be okay, even if we help them. They might even start an unnecessary war."

The ashen-haired man, with his hands shoved into his pockets, blinked to properly digest the words. After a few moments, he sighed to himself.

"Aahh … I guess that's how it is. Adults are selfish, it's always been like that." Inojin turned his eyes to ChouChou, and the latter, who had been distracted by the people passing by in the alley, noticed. The Yamanaka smiled bitterly. "Do you remember that time when Shikadai was taken hostage, and I was ordered to give you an anti-explosion uniform?"

ChouChou's face tightened. The hairs on her arms stood up, and she hugged herself as she felt a chill run down her spine.

"Ugh … Forget that! Don't remember that! How disgusting…"

In response to her complaints, Inojin stifled a chuckle.

"Even though you complained, you were encouraged to try it."

"Don't you dare mention a word to Shikadai! I was totally humiliated!" He complained. The memory alone caused ChouChou to clench his fists near his face, and squirm. "There was no way I was going to abandon him, it was a difficult time…"

"I still don't understand how they could create something so horrible. At best, only the trunk would survive."

"Right?!" ChouChou stated, snapping his fingers as he found something he agreed with Inojin on one hundred percent.

He smiled ghostly. That smile, while not pure, worked to ease the tension.

Inojin tensed slightly, looking up. ChouChou continued muttering to herself.

"And the colors… I can understand that in Konoha we use the color green, but it looked horrible with that suit. It looked more like the explosives were inside it…"

"Hey…"

"Besides…"

"Psst , ChouChou!" Inojin joked. 

"Hm? E-Eh?!"

Before she knew it, ChouChou had been dragged to a nearby wall. Inojin had hidden himself next to her, behind a recycling bin, and crouched down.

As he was about to ask the reason, Inojin frowned at him to keep him quiet.

A single voice rang out down the alley.

"You can't be serious~! Honestly... Wasn't he drunk...?"

The person who spoke was a man, and right after he belched. He spoke nonchalantly, obviously drunk.

On the other hand, the other man who accompanied him was visibly more sober.

"You know that uncle lets us drink because he's married to my aunt, but he doesn't normally serve alcohol during family hours." The other man answers, supporting his friend on the walk. "I doubt he was there just to get drunk, my uncle wouldn't have helped him."

"So~? What nonsense…" The first man burped again. Seeing it fit, the two members of the InoShikaChou poked their heads out, only slightly noticing the two large, disheveled balls of hair that ChouChou had on his head. "What did that old man say his name was…? Legendary… What thing?"

His companion sighed.

"Jiraiya-sama." He remembered, tiredly. "My uncle got excited, he must be someone important."

"Um." said the drunker one, not wanting to contribute anything to the conversation.

Any sound that echoed out would prompt Inojin and ChouChou to hide their heads again, but even the most sober man seemed to be taking his toll from the alcohol he had consumed, and had not noticed their presence.

"Legendary… Legendary… let's see…" He tried to remember the most sober one, but failed, letting out an exasperated sigh, taking a hand to his head. "Aagh ! Forget it! My head hurts to remember…"

"What a shitty day this has been." The drunkest one complained. He didn't look like he had a bad time when he was drinking, and Inojin frowned at the stench of alcohol. "We were pretty uneasy about the whole dead thing on the hill, and that madman came to ruin our day."

Inojin and ChouChou paled. In contrast, the more sober man stifled a wry laugh.

"Look, if my uncle took your warning seriously, then it must be serious business."

"Of course it's going to be serious, he practically told us that the guards are trying to act like nothing happened~." The first man burped again, wiping the dirt off his face with one of his hands. "But well... that problem will be faced by the feudal lord, that has nothing to do with us."

"It's true." His companion affirmed, adjusting the weight of his friend on his shoulder. His tone of voice was quieter. "The guards tend to be more discreet when the Feudal Lord is not around, I knew something was wrong."

"It happened everywhere, it's not a small thing!"

"Ssshhh!!"

Akimichi and Yamanaka cowered in their hiding place, covering their mouths and pressing closer together to fit into the narrow hiding spot, out of sight of the man who might have sober eyes.

A cough was heard, and then the clearer voice of the less intoxicated man could be heard.

"Are you crazy?! You want us to be arrested?!" He hissed. "That Jiraiya can take them on if he's that important, but us?! Your shitty breath isn't going to get us out of the dungeon!"

"Shut up~, My head is going to explode with your shit…" The drunk man complained, throwing his head back and letting out an exasperated sigh. "Aaaghh …! My wife is going to kill me…"

"Why did I agree to come with you?" The other man protested resignedly. The footsteps were moving away on the other side of the alley. "My uncle can help me with this, but not even he can save me from my mother…"

"Shut up~!"

ChouChou moved slightly from his spot, to poke his face out from beside the recycling bin. There were no walls on the shore, and Inojin stood up, leaving ChouChou on his knees.

"Let's follow them!"

"Huh?! Yes!"

True to their instinct as Ninjas, and children of the InoShikaChou, they followed the two men who, drunk as they were, had information that matched their own experience: A famous name, linked to something dangerous, and mention had been made of the feudal lord, and both wanted to get ahead of Shikadai in finding out whether the man was present in this village or not.

They ran through the alleys without making the slightest noise, sticking to the walls so as not to cause shadows that could alert their presence.

They followed the sound of footsteps even faster, as Inojin confirmed the presence of many more people around the corner, and the possibility of missing them.

Just as Inojin's sensory ability (albeit inexperienced) had analyzed, the two men left through another alley, joining the crowd of people. It was easier for Inojin and ChouChou to follow them, and so they did.

Both men continued talking to themselves, although apparently, about monotonous and unimportant things.

When the area cleared after turning a few streets, Inojin and ChouChou hid behind a bulletin board wall, waiting for some accidental leak of crucial information to them.

"You're a nuisance…" The more sober man sighed tiredly, his shirt noticeably dirtier than his drinking companion's. "One, two…"

Reaching number three, he lifted his drinking companion by the shoulders, and helped him lean against a sink.

"A public bathroom…" Inojin commented.

The two men were indeed facing each other. However, the drunker one had his head stuck in the wall of the sinks that are on the outside wall of the bathrooms.

"That man will be more concerned with keeping his organs inside than asking his friend more questions." Akimichi commented with disgust, grimacing after Inojin. The Yamanaka dismissed her complaint and put a hand on the wall to continue listening to their conversation.

The drunkest one began to push his body towards the interior of the sink murals, obviously freeing himself from all the weight that had intoxicated his stomach.

ChouChou was thankful that people, even though they were from the past, didn't dare to come to these baths, because she personally didn't want to be seen near this pair of smelly people.

The leaking stomach fluid did not stop the conversation between the two men from continuing, and ChouChou was only becoming more disgusted, and she deigned to look away, wishing her ears were covered or she would just go deaf.

Inojin stood in front of her, listening to everything. At worst, he would use his Shintensin and make things easier; she wasn't needed.

"…"

She looked at the notice board with boredom and disinterest, her lips forming a slight pout.

There were papers of all colors, but noticeably older. They were nothing like the ones you would see in Konoha on Family Day, or the ones that the Ramen chef who created a dish especially for ChouChou and his team used to hang up.

You could read things like:

"Employees needed for the bathhouse."

"Half-price tofu."

"Ue -sama is missing! Have you seen him?"

When she was too tired to read the most presentable and beautiful signs, she decided to stop and read anything.

From the elderly asking for a curfew for the youngest, to responses to that announcement, exclaiming more freedom.

Similarly, there was a board specifically for Poems that people in the town could share anonymously.

Nice, but boring anyway.

But when he was starting to get bored, ChouChou stopped his eyes on a paper that stood out among all the others.

The sheet was white, and was still stuck on with an old piece of tape.

But, as was to be expected from those who wanted to be seen before anyone else, the sheet had been partially covered by other relatively new ones, but I could read and see the scribbles that were written on it, with a simple black marker, and in the clearest possible handwriting:

"We cry out for freedom. The litter we throw away is not accepted, but we turn it into something recyclable and we treasure it.

Dangerous people use the fallen trash, but we pick it up and make it usable.

You live hidden, wishing to be like those who pass by and don't pick it up; In the dark of the truth, you hope that recycling becomes routine; You hope to be accepted.

Shall I tell you something?

I, who recycles, was also discarded.

Don't be a shadow, and show that you are no worse than the one who leaves."

ChouChou read the Poem.

He was never one for poems… He was never one for reading, to begin with!

But he had been drawn to the paper specifically. Not because of the words or any meaning they might have, but because, unlike the rest of the poems, the author had not made any effort to present it. And it was accompanied by a drawing.

It was a strange stamp, a jumble of scribbles, but with the strokes blackened by ink.

The artist took great care to make the strokes in such a way that, although at first glance they looked like scribbles in the corner of the sheet of paper to check whether the brush had fresh ink, the white of the sheet of paper could be distinguished between the strokes.

It was a kind of whirlpool, he thought at first. But it had curves on it that were drawn semi-horizontally, from the top left to the bottom right. He couldn't make out the rest of the strokes.

"That's strange... The Feudal Lord isn't in the village." She heard Inojin comment beside her, and he turned to her. When ChouChou realized, the two men had resumed their course to an unknown destination, walking with difficulty. "We have to meet up with the others, Shikadai has to know that the Feudal Lord won't be in this house."

"Huh? That means…" ChouChou realized. "It's not a coincidence, right? If he's not there, then his house is a good place…"

"To steal the wedding gift, yes." Inojin confirmed, seriously, and nodded. Without asking, he stood up. Inojin doesn't handle crowds well when he has to contact Chakras that he already recognizes. "Hurry, we have to meet up with the others."

"Go!"

She nodded without protest, standing up and wiping the dirt off her knees.

She followed Inojin on his quick walk, as they took the opposite direction the two men had taken.

The sheet of paper danced uselessly in the hot breeze, while its very presence was covered by the romantic words of poems that no one would read.

On the other hand, that sheet of paper, unsigned and uncared for, had received the attention it had been waiting for.

Even though it was not taken seriously, and was left behind, like a simple piece of trash.