#chouichi

Oh boy would I, anon!

Hironobu. 

Hironobu’s bakery was in the most recent chapter of Early Is On Time, and he shows up most often in Shadow Under Water – the one where Shisui and Shikako are teammates – but here’s some general background!

For those of you playing along at home, Hironobu is a civilian-born pastry chef, wedding cake master, and all around Baking Genius™ that married into the Akimichi because the Akimichi needed to have him and his recipes and his bakery in the clan.

Hironobu is Chouji’s first cousin once removed by marriage. I’m sure that doesn’t mean much to most people, so here’s a helpful diagram!

(Notes about who’s canon and where these characters came from at the end!)

Hironobu was born 25 years after Konoha’s founding. This makes him the same age as Inuzuka Tsume, although it is of course doubtful that they know each other because Hironobu is from civilian stock. His father was the younger son of a successful baker in the Land of Fire’s capital. Konoha was really taking off, you know, and when the first Shinobi war ended about a decade after Konoha started, it was prime time for civilians to move in! Hironobu’s dad showed up some time after that with a lovely wife, set up a small bakery, and started doing business. Hironobu inherited it when he was between 18 and 20 (so, around y44) and his father retired back to the capital.

Chouichi is Chouji’s cousin, older by 12 years. His father was Chouza’s older brother and died when he was a kid. Chouichi graduated to genin at 10 (y46) but was kept out of the war, as clan heir, especially given his father’s death. He officially abdicated when Chouji hit a year old, knowing that he wanted to go into the business and hospitality half of the clan rather than continue on as a ninja, and it’s Akimichi clan law that the clan head be an active shinobi.

Chouichi’s first act of Official Profitable And Important Clan Business happens before he’s even a chuunin. At age 11, after a D-rank cleaning up a wedding venue for a minor civilian council member, he and his team are given some left over cake. It’s the best cake he’s ever had. Ever. Better than his mother’s cake. Better than his grandfather’s cake. Chouichi is clan heir still at this time and has had every cake anyone in his clan has made and this is not one of those. It’s perfect. 

The Akimichi must have it. Not just buying a cake once in awhile, no. The recipe, the shop it came from, and the baker in question. They NEED it. The clan, Chouichi knows, is not complete.

So he shows up at Hironobu’s bakery at the end of the day, dirty from team training, and charms the hell out of Hironobu, and talks business. Flour shortages and sugar prices and the difficulty of the small bakery Hironobu’s father set up. It’s out of the way, and it really doesn’t have enough room for the elaborate wedding cakes Hironobu would like to make or the staff he’d need to make them.

Chouichi arranges Hironobu’s marriage into the clan. It’s easy:

Hironobu makes a cake. A small cake. A perfect cake. He makes it when Ageha gets back from her next mission. 

Chouichi brings the cake around to Ageha’s apartment. She’s two years older than Hironobu, a jounin.

She looks so tired – the Third War, you know? – and Chouichi doesn’t want to sell her on this too hard. He just hands the cake box to her, says, “You could marry the man who made this,” and leaves.

“I fell in love instantly,” Ageha has said, often, mostly about the cake but sometimes, eventually, about Hironobu. 

Hironobu gets a bigger, better shop, on Tea Street. He gets much better prices on all of his ingredients. He gets lots of catering contacts. He gets a lovely wife! 

In Shadow Under Water, Hironobu’s newest staff member is Akimichi Chinatsu. Dona wrote about her in a piece I’ll link below, although I’m weak and can’t deal with her being dead and therefore she just had a career ending injury. Her teammates were Yamanaka Santa and Nara Kyougi and they stop in a lot still. 

When Chouichi retires from active service sometime after making chuunin (probably after Konoha gets back on track from the Kyuubi attack) he flings himself into all kinds of event planning, including weddings, and orders lots and lots of cakes from Hironobu.

“Hey, babe?” Chouichi calls as he closes the door after the mail carrier has gone. 

“What?” Itachi calls back. 

“We got a package from your brother.”

“A what?” 

“A package,” Chouichi repeats as he heads into the kitchen and puts the mail on the island. “Sorta lumpy. Doesn’t feel like a bomb.” 

“You should dust for residue anyway,” Itachi says as he emerges from the living room. There’s plaster dust on his tee shirt but he’s smiling so apparently the great battle of Uchiha vs. Flat Screen Wall Mount has been decisively won. 

Chouichi gestures at the offending parcel as he sorts the rest of the mail- junk, card from dad, junk, invitation from his own little brother, junk, power bill. Itachi examines the package. “Sakura wrote the tag,” he says.

“Are we gonna open it or wait for it to bite?” Chouichi asks. 

Itachi huffs and pushes a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “Let’s get it over with.” 

Chouichi hands his boyfriend a knife from his pocket and Itachi slits the bag open. He stares at the contents for so long Chouichi becomes concerned. “’tachi?” 

“Ah. Sorry. Not a bomb. Or anything else unpleasant.” Itachi dumps the bag out. 

It’s sweaters- two of them. One is forest green and covered in what look like little crows wearing their own christmas sweaters with santa hats. 

The other, significantly larger sweater is blue and is covered in snowflakes. 

Chouichi stares, notices he has little crows on the cuffs of his sweater, that Itachi’s has snowflakes. 

“Your estranged little brother knit us christmas sweaters?” He asks. 

Itachi snorts. It’s a wet sort of snort, and Chouichi opens his arms. Itachi steps into them and presses his face against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He strokes Itachi’s hair and lets him cry.

“You know I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again,” he murmurs against the side of Itachi’s head, “No one could ever hate you. Especially not Sasuke.” 

Itachi just clings to Chouichi a little tighter. Chouichi grabs his sweater one-handed and drapes it over Itachi’s back. He watches snow start to fall softly outside. 

There’s plenty of questions. If Sakura wrote the tag, did Sasuke ever intend to send the sweaters? Did he choose to make them himself, or did Naruto goad him? Would sending them get him in trouble with Fugaku, who still hasn’t forgiven his oldest son for skipping town all those years ago? 

Will this finally be the year that Sasuke accepts the long standing but never taken invitation to christmas eve dinner? 

When Chouichi left the gym, Chouji had parked by the curb. His brother threw his bag in the back seat, got in the front, and said hoarse as sandpaper, “Drive.” 

Chouji did. Once they were a couple blocks away he flipped open his center console and silently handed his brother a ziploc bag. It was filled with colored candy. Skittles and m&ms, to be precise, mixed together. 

“You haven’t called a code skittleem in almost seven years,” Chouji told Chouichi as they headed for the winding roads that would take them the long way home. 

Chouichi didn’t say anything- he just shoved a handful of the fruit and chocolate monstrosity into his mouth. 

“It was Itachi, wasn’t it?” Chouji asked kindly. 

Chouichi didn’t quite choke but there were a couple tense moments as he hacked, swallowed and glared at his brother. 

“How bad?” Chouji asked. 

Chouichi stared out the window. 

“That bad?” 

“He’s replaced all his yoga pants. All of them.” 

“Okay?” Chouji asked. 

“With. spandex.”

“Oh shit.” Chouji made a wide turn. “Sooo..?” 

“Popped it like I was thirteen,” Chouichi said through clenched teeth. “didn’t go away until I was in the fucking parking lot.”

Chouji hissed in sympathy. “Did you get out before-” he started, but Chouichi shook his head. “I don’t know,” he told his little brother. 

Chouji took a deep breath. “We’re gonna need more candy.” 

“Fuck the candy,” Chouichi said as he grabbed another handful, “Swing by the liquor store. I’m never going back there again.” 

“Chouichi it’s the only gym in the limits that has enough weights for you.” 

“I will kill myself with Grandma Kasami’s best heirloom teaspoon before I go back in there.” 

“Then who’s gonna spot Kisame?”

“Let him die.” 

He turns the car off and sits. 

It’s snowing outside, big fluffy flakes that panic out of towners and make locals hunker down in afghans and sit at their windows. It’ll taper off by morning and everything will be draped in white lace. 

Up the driveway is a house. It’s a small house with a single occupant, set back from the road. There are icicle lights hanging along its gutters and the small pine in the front yard is decorated. There’s a wreath on the door. 

he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The car is cooling and the windshield is beginning to fog. He could drive down the road another ten miles, hit the exit, get a motel room. He could drink old coffee, call his brother in the morning. He could say he tried. 

On his front seat his phone screen is dark. The last text he received was four hours ago, from his best friend asking him if he’d left yet. 

 He had to use to GPS to get here. He’d never thought the person in the house would move from the shaded boulevard where all the generations of his family trade barbeque and secrets in big backyards filled with bowing trees. 

He never thought a lot of things would happen. 

This is a mistake, he says to himself. He unbuckles his seatbelt, unlocks the door. 

A mistake.

He gets out of the car, straightens his shirt and coat. It’s not a long walk to the front door but he puts his hat and scarf on anyway. He grabs his phone, slides it into his pocket. 

The fat flakes are gathering on his shoulders. He can see a few- thousands of angles and facets doomed to melt. 

He begins his walk up to the door. The walkway is clear, salted and sanded. He can see where some parts are scraped down to the rock beneath, likely hand-laid and mortared.

I should turn around. 

He doesn’t.

Each of the three steps up to the door feels like a thousand miles. Is there a doorbell? He can’t see one. There’s only the heavy iron knocker. He knows the likelihood of it coming to life and reminding him of past sins is slim, but he still gives it a chance.

It’s nothing but a knocker, immobile and cold.  

He takes a deep, deep breath, lifts his hand and grabs it. He slams the knocker resolutely against its plate three times. The sound echoes over the yard and down the empty street. How can this front porch feel so far away when he can see the lights of the next house’s display? 

There’s movement inside- someone large. He can hear footsteps and before his heart can jump up his throat and strangle his brain the door opens. 

There is a flood of light and scent and soft sound and a man. 

He’s wearing a worn gray tee shirt and bluejeans. There’s flour on the thighs where he habitually rubs during baking prep. His hair’s in a messy ponytail. He hasn’t cut it save for trims in years. 

The man on the porch laces his fingers together so tight they’re going pale in his gloves and says, “Merry Christmas, Chouichi.” 

For a second time has stopped. 

In the seconds after, Chouichi will reach out and grab him, whisper his name over and over, “Itachi, Itachi-” each repetition a prayer and a curse and a demand and a wish. Itachi will be dragged inside into the warmth. They will sit on the couch and won’t talk, their arms and legs entwined and Itachi’s nose against Chouichi’s neck. 

They will both get angry, they will both cry, and they will both forgive. 

In the morning they will go- first to Chouichis’ parents, then to Itachis’. Kisame will get a text that says ‘you were right’ and he’ll screenshot and and grin about it and be generally insufferable until after new years. There will be hot buttered rum and kisses and chests filled with butterflies and bats. 

All of this happens after.

For this second- at the stroke of midnight, though he didn’t plan it that way- Uchiha Itachi is standing on the porch of the man he loves and left, and inside is warm and outside is cold while in the dark it is snowing fat flakes that panic out of towners and make locals hunker down in afghans and sit at their windows. 

It is Christmas and Itachi is, for the first time in a long time, home. 

Haku had frozen up halfway across and Chouichi returned to stand beside him. 

The Akimichi took his student’s hand and led him carefully through the yard of the Inuzuka tracking kennel. Every time a dog came close- yearlings, mostly- he would pause and look at them. 

The dogs backed off and Haku started breathing again when they were on the other side of the fence. 

“Getting better all the time, Flake,” Inuzuka Ruka- the keeper of the tracking kennel- narrowed her eyes and showed her teeth in amusement. “You almost made it halfway this time.” 

Haku mustered up the strength to glare at her and she laughed. 

“Why do we have to do this?” He asked his teacher as they began mixing the food- mostly fresh raw meat from Nara butchers- that would feed the animals. 

“I owe the Inuzuka,” Chouichi said, “and nindogs are an important part of any village.” 

Haku snorted. 

“Even Kiri has nindogs, Haku.” Chouichi said. Granted, they were mostly water-dogs, trained extensively to retrieve information and bodies from the rough surf of the sea or to fight alongside their masters who used water-based jutsu. “One of our most famous ninja uses a nindog summons. You like Pakkun well enough.” 

“Pakkun is small,” Haku muttered. “And he talks.” 

“So will these animals,” Chouichi said reasonably, “once they’re paired with an Inuzuka who can match their natural chakra.”

“The triplets don’t talk.”

“The triplets don’t have a lot to say, not to me.” Chouichi’s face was shadowed for a moment. 

“I prefer cats,” Haku said as he helped Chouichi grind up grain mixed with a vitamin powder. “They’re not so-”

“Demanding?” 

“Slobbery.”

“Ah, yes. Slobber.” Chouichi picked up another bucket. “Maybe we should get you a nindog.” 

“If you do I will turn it into a doorstop,” Haku threatened. 

“No you wouldn’t.” Chouichi said with a tiny smile. “You couldn’t bear to.” 

“I’ve killed dogs before.” the confession was soft and matter-of-fact. Chouichi shrugged. “So have I.” He dumped their newest concoction into the biggest barrel in the kennel and began to mix. “It’s a hazard when you’re fighting a nindog and their partner.”

“It wasn’t a nindog.” 

“Oh?” Chouichi asked. 

“It was walking funny,” Haku said, voice going kind of fuzzy like it did when he was remembering his life before Konoha. “And it had this look in its eyes. Kind of dead and dreadful and I knew it was going to attack me.” 

“Rabies,” said Ruka, approaching from the other door. “You killed it, I hope.” 

Haku nodded. “Zabuza destroyed the corpse.” 

“Good for him,” Ruka said. Rabies was an Inuzuka’s worst nightmare. “Hey, look at this.” She examined the food. “We’ll make a proper nindog caretaker of you yet, Flake.” 

“I doubt it,” Haku said. 

“I don’t!” Ruka grinned. “Thanks, Chouichi. You two gonna take off now?” 

“Give us five minutes. Which pack are you using?” 

“Jei’s pretty convinced that his group can give you both a run for your money.” 

“Sounds good. Haku?” 

Haku looked at his teacher. 

“No killing the nindogs,” Chouichi said. Haku nodded and the two headed for the door. Jei’s pack of yearlings would do their best to track the ice nin. Last month Haku had managed to go an hour without being found. So much he’d never known about nindogs and their capabilities! 

"Out!" Maruten shooed the redhead. "Out out out!"

"I haven't done anything," his cousin said defensively, shifting from one foot to the other. "You were busy I didn't want to interrupt."

Maruten looked at the table, which was nicely set with lit candles. "Yes I was and I am and I need you to leave."

"Look, Maru-"

"I don't care if it's a mission, I don't care if the Hokage had dropped dead, I don't care if my mother has run out of rice flour I need you to go, Chouichi."

"He's not even here yet!" Chouichi said, though he let his cousin chase him to the front room.

"He will be soon now git."

Chouichi peered over his cousin's shoulder back at the dining nook in the kitchen.  "Are those your mom's heirloom chopsticks?"

Maruten colored, the red flush obscuring the spheres on his cheeks. "Yes, if you must know."

"So you're serious."

"As serious as it GETS now if you please-"

"Okay good," Chouichi made a quick hand seal. "you're gonna need this then."

He held out a hand to catch the wine bottle that poofed out of the seal on his sleeve. Maruten blinked at it.

"Consider it an apology for fucking up your last date," Chouichi said with a small smile.

"You didn't fuck it up," Maruten sighed. What could you do when your cousin showed up with vital intel on a potential breach of the outer wall? Chouichi hadn't even gone back to headquarters, his captain had told him, quote, 'get your ass home and sound the fucking alarm'.

Maruten was Akitaro's second in command. Of course he had to be informed of a potential breach of the Konoha defenses, especially when the intel held out and gave them one of Iwa's spies on a platter.

That Chouichi managed to roll in through his bedroom window when he was an inch and a half away from his boyfriend's dick, well.

Shit happens.

Maruten examined the bottle. Plum wine in white stoneware, bearing a distinctive maker's mark.

"…is this from Lord Chouza's private stock?" He asked.

"Why do you ask questions you don't wanna know the answers to?" Chouichi asked.

"Am I going to be impaled and hung in the great hall for this?"

"Hell no." Chouichi said. "But-"

He reached out and brushed the bottle. Maruten's fingers reflexively twitched as he felt the temperature drop.

"Best served cold." Chouichi said. "I wish you all the luck in the world, Cousin. He's a Main House Hyuuga. You're gonna be fighting uphill the whole way."

"I know," Maruten said, putting the bottle on a side table. "But what the hell, every day's a good day to die."

"So it is." Chouichi said. "Good luck, Maru." He winked and disappeared in a neat transport jutsu.

Maruten watched the spot his cousin had been in for a moment or two before sighing and conveying the bottle to the fridge.

Tonight. He would ask Tokuma to marry him tonight, come hell, high water, or Hyuuga Hiashi.  

Outtakes from What Even

Itachi was watching the demo very closely. 

Unusually closely, considering how careful he had been thusfar with his eyes and the direction they were pointed. 

Kisame gave his partner a once-over before following the line of Itachi’s rapt attention to a building that was being prepared to meet its maker. Once it had been a four-person dwelling with an attached workshop. No doubt Itachi could tell Kisame who had lived there, what they had named their children, what jobs they held in the village proper. 

Itachi remembered all of those things, locked in the depths of his bloodred eyes. 

At the moment the ghosts of the house didn’t matter. What did was the man who was preparing to tear them down. 

“Got it, Chouichi?” One of the other massive Akimichi asked. 

Chouichi nodded, taking his hands off the western corner of the building. Kisame could see a thin line of ice climbing from the foundation to the rooftop and across, consuming all the weightbearing pillars of the house. Ice release? 

Hm. 

Well then, this had to be..

Chouichi looked around. “Get clear!” he roared and immediately Akimichi were moving off, giving the house a wide berth. 

Chouichi reeled back and punched the corner. 

The entire house crumbled in on itself like a collapsing cake, the beams he had frozen shattering under the stress of the blow and taking everything with them. A great cloud of dust billowed out and when it had settled Chouichi tapped his shoulders to be rid of the worst of it and pulled the cloth mask he’d had on off. 

“How’s it look, Maruten?” he called.

“Like a fuckin’ mess, so, perfect!” 

“Great. What’s next?” 

Itachi made a noise. 

Kisame looked at him and grinned broadly.

Oh yes.

Chouichi speaks with his father after the deaths of Shikaku and Inoichi.