Along the way, Fujimoto Tōma and Yamanaka Ino barely spoke.
One led the way. The other followed.
That said, the one leading kept glancing off to the side, eyes drifting from stall to stall, street to street, before reluctantly refocusing on the road ahead.
"The time’s still early," Tōma said quietly from behind. "You don’t need to rush back."
"Huh?" Ino turned around, blinking. There was anticipation in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You can go do whatever you want," Tōma replied simply.
"Really?" Ino’s face lit up. "Yes!"
She darted off immediately, finally dropping all restraint, while Tōma followed at an easy pace.
Watching her back, Tōma found himself thinking that the Ino–Shika–Chō trio was genuinely impressive.
Individually, the Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi weren’t the most influential clans in Konoha. But standing together, they formed a stable, time-tested force that no one underestimated.
More importantly, none of the three clans carried the darker habits some bloodlines were known for. They didn’t look down on others, didn’t act entitled. Most kids from Ino–Shika–Chō didn’t even realize how famous their formation was. Shikamaru aside. That one probably figured it out on his own.
Few combinations like them existed, not just in the village but across the entire shinobi world.
From Tōma’s perspective, the reason was clear. The Nara provided strategy and control. The Yamanaka handled interference and mental restraint. Combined, they let the shadow techniques land with certainty. Then came the Akimichi as the finisher. Heavy hits, simple execution, decisive power.
On paper, it looked like the Akimichi role could be swapped with any high-output ninja. In reality, that was rarely viable.
Akimichi techniques were inherited early, simple to pass down, and devastating from the start. Sheer mass and power bypassed many defenses. The trade-off was agility. Alone, they were large targets. Inside the formation, they were perfect.
Other powerful techniques didn’t guarantee strong successors. Even if a grown ninja joined later, coordination would always lag.
If anything, the most fragile part of the trio was the Nara line. Not every generation produced a tactical mind sharp enough to carry the formation. That kind of intelligence wasn’t guaranteed by blood alone.
But this generation would be fine. Nara Shikamaru would more than live up to the name.
Akimichi Chōji would be the anchor.
And Yamanaka Ino... well, technically speaking, she was the "boar."
Yes, really.
Despite appearances, "Ino" could mean boar, and the Yamanaka surname referred to the wilds. The Akimichi, confusingly, represented the butterfly. Clan naming was strange like that.
Tōma shook his head lightly. Kids were kids. And honestly, all of the rookie gen were pretty likable when they weren’t causing trouble.
"Are you done?" Tōma asked after a while, checking the sky. Time had slipped by. Ino had bounced from place to place like she ran on fresh chakra.
"Yeah," Ino said, freezing in place. She scratched her head awkwardly, realizing she’d been having way too much fun. "Uh... right."
"It’s getting late," Tōma said, pointing upward.
"The cake shop’s just ahead!" Ino said quickly, ears turning red as she hurried forward. She stopped in front of a store almost immediately. "Here!"
Tōma sighed in relief. He’d been here before. He just hadn’t realized it was a cake shop.
"You wait here," he said.
"Okay." Ino nodded and watched him go inside, then started kicking a stone along the road.
Now that she’d stopped moving, the fatigue hit her all at once.
She sat down.
Why was he taking so long?
A few minutes later, Tōma emerged with a box, quietly sighing to himself. Custom cakes needed advance notice. He’d had to settle for something ready-made.
He noticed Ino sitting there and paused. Ah. Figures. All that running finally caught up to her.
"Why’s he so slow..." Ino muttered, rubbing her legs.
"Tired?" a voice asked beside her.
She turned. A small slice of cake filled her vision. Normally she wouldn’t care, but right now, her stomach betrayed her immediately.
She looked up. Tōma was smiling faintly.
"For me?" she asked.
"You led me all this way," he said. "Figured you earned it."
"...Mm." Ino turned red and took it, eating quietly. Partly from hunger. Partly from embarrassment.
"Didn’t you get any?" she asked between bites.
"I’ll eat with my mom," Tōma said, lifting the box. Truthfully, his allowance was basically gone.
"I see." Ino didn’t press further.
After she finished, Tōma asked, "Think you can walk?"
She stood up, tested her legs. "Probably?"
"Then hold this." He handed her the box.
Ino blinked. Wait, what?
Before she could protest, Tōma turned around and crouched slightly.
"It’s getting late," he said. "Hop on."
"...Okay." Ino carefully climbed onto his back, holding the cake steady, arms lightly around his neck.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He lifted her smoothly.
"Am I heavy?" she asked hesitantly.
"Lighter than I expected," Tōma replied, already walking.
Ino stared at him from inches away, suddenly reminded of her father’s back. She shook her head quickly.
Don’t be stupid.
Still... she smiled a little.
He felt reliable.