Prompt: a universe where Chouichi ends up as Hokage??
His brother gently takes the hat from his hands and hangs it up. “You’re doing your job.” He says.
He guides his sibling down into the wide, comfortable chair behind the wide sturdy desk. In the privacy of this office they are not the Sixth Hokage and the ten and sixth Head of the Akimichi; they are a caretaker and his charge.
Chouji has always looked after Chouichi, because no one else could ever figure out how.
“Letter from Gaara,” Chouji says as he sits on the other side of the desk, putting down the tea service he’d retrieved. “Shikaku’s going to have some thoughts.”
“Shikaku’s thoughts are a normal man’s headache.” Chouichi closes his eyes. “What about Iwa?”
“The old man sent his condolences,” Chouji says, and he only stumbles a little over the word. “so did the Raikage.”
Chouichi snorts. “The Raikage’s just mad he couldn’t beat Dad in an eating contest before he went.”
Chouji’s smile is half-hearted but it’s there, pushing up the swirls that went from blood to ocean overnight. He pours tea. “Kakashi’s requesting another extension.”
“Kakashi is a damn fool and so is Naruto.” Chouichi opens his eyes, drinks the tea he is offered. “I should have frozen that little fucker to death when I had him in my hands.”
“Maybe,” Chouji acknowledges, but he doesn’t say more.
They both know that Chouichi could never hurt what Itachi had given all of himself to protect.
“The Clan Council’s going to argue,” Chouichi said, “but I’ll grant it.”
There would be annoyed murmurs, excuses, more jockeying for power under the eyes of a Kage who would not be swayed easily or at all.
“How’s Sakura?” Chouichi asked.
Chouji coughed into his tea.
“Ino’s doing her best, but there’s no slowing her down.” Chouji said. “She’s going to try leaving again.”
“Maybe this time we should let her.” Chouichi said. “Have her drag those two idiots back by the ears.”
Chouichi levels his gaze at his brother. It is as ruthless as Chouji’s is kind.
“He doesn’t know you exist, Chouji.” Chouichi says. They are words hard earned, hard learned.
“I know.” Chouji says, “but that doesn’t matter. He needs to come home now.”
“Some of the finest jounin ever to come out of Konoha haven’t been able to find Uchiha Sasuke, little brother. What makes you think you can?”
Chouji collects himself. It is a fascinating thing to watch, like a woman gathering washing from a line moments before the heavens open up.
“You always knew how to find Itachi, didn’t you?”
Chouichi’s hand on the desk tightens ever so slightly, and there is a chill in the air.
A moment later it is gone. Against enemy ninja, against chakra-driven plant men, against machines of war and against Uchiha Madara Chouichi did not back down.
Chouji was none of those things. He was something gentler, something sweeter, and something altogether more terrifying for it.
“Shikamaru and Ino will kill me.” Chouichi says.
“You’re the Hokage. They’ll make an exception.”
“The Clan Council will never allow it. “
“The Clan Council has no say in S Rank missions assigned personally by the Hokage.”
“Dangerous rule.” Chouichi mutters. “Gonna chuck it out the fuckin’ window. Right along with the ANBU regulations.”
He pours himself more tea.
“You have three months. I’m not stopping either Shikamaru or Ino when they find out, though I suppose I’ll be gracious and keep the Inuzuka and the Aburame here. Won’t save you from Hinata, though. Or Sakura.”
“If you aren’t back here by the time three months are up I am giving that stupid hat to Shikaku and I am hunting you down personally. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Hokage-sama.” Chouji says.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Chouichi says, and Chouji smiles that secret little smile that Chouichi has always hated a bit and leaves as soundlessly as he arrived, spooking the ANBU set to guard Chouichi’s door.
“Good luck,” Chouichi murmurs, and opens the letter from Hidden Sand.
