Chapter Forty-Three: The Berry War

The midday sun cast a golden glow over the savannah, warming the breeze as it danced through tall grass and stirred the leaves of the trees. Pride Rock stood watch over it all, unmoving and majestic. Beneath the broad shadow at its base, Jitu lay in his usual spot—silent, massive, frost-touched. His icy blue eyes were half-lidded, fixed somewhere distant. A soft wind stirred his thick mane, sending slow ripples through the frost-flecked tufts. Then came the sound of laughter. Kovu appeared first, panting, eyes gleaming with barely-contained hilarity. Kiara followed, giggling behind him. Vitani wasn’t far behind, and her entire Guard trailed after, snickering and breathless. Simba and Nala brought up the rear, amused smiles already on their faces."Okay," Kovu gasped, collapsing near Jitu, "I have to know—what in the world did that bull have against you?" Vitani skidded to a halt, her violet eyes sharp with curiosity. "Yeah, what did you do? Crush his ego?" Kiara leaned in, eyes wide with mischief. "Did you say something? Or just… look at him wrong?" Jitu’s icy gaze shifted toward the group, slow and steady. He didn’t move otherwise. No blink. No twitch. Just a look. Simba chuckled and sat beside Nala. "Come now, son. Even for you, that was dramatic." A long, heavy silence hung in the air. And then, in that deep, calm voice, as if he’d been asked the most mundane question in the world, Jitu replied: "Fruit." Silence. Kiara blinked. "Wait… what?" Vitani tilted her head. "Fruit? You’re joking." Jitu said nothing. His silence was steady, absolute—but his still gaze was confirmation enough. Kovu was the first to break. He exploded into laughter, falling over in the grass. "You were fighting… over fruit?!" Simba sighed, shaking his head. "That poor bull." Vitani burst out laughing. "That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You—a walking calamity—squared off, over a berry?"

"Maybe he thought you’d share," Kiara giggled. Still, Jitu remained quiet. His gaze drifted back to the horizon, as if the entire conversation floated past him like wind. But then—barely, subtly—a deep sigh escaped him. Soft. Heavy. The kind that came with the quiet resignation of dread. Nala leaned against Simba, watching with gentle affection. "Even the mighty," she said, smiling, "have their cravings." And from somewhere in the distance, Rafiki’s voice cackled through the warm air. "Oh-ho-ho! A battle for a berry! That will be my next tale! 'The Beast and the Berry!'" Jitu didn’t flinch. He didn’t blink. He didn’t speak. But his thick mane shifted just slightly in the breeze, and the corner of his mouth curled—barely, briefly, like a shadow of amusement passing across stone. No one said a word about it. But they all saw it.