Insert obligatory I-do-not-own-this statement here

I reckon this takes place slightly before groups were chosen.


I am always alone.

Then again, from another point of view, I'm not. They say the Aburame never are. Because of who I am, every moment that I remain alive, my chakra flows, and the insects within me multiply. They warm me when cold, comfort when sad, and participate in all activities a good friend should, but it is when they cluster around me in their greatest numbers that I am the loneliest.

Growing up among hateful, ostracizing Konoha children is not an easy task when one is constantly buzzing in a cloud of flies, and I quickly learned that I would have to come up with some sort of bug-less defense if I was going to survive in such a hostile environment. After some thought, I took about a week to study my peers, hoping to come up with a plan.

The children seemed to favor Sasuke, Neji and Sakura; they hated Naruto, Chouji, and to some extent, Shikamaru. Ah, I realized. Cold and stoic is respected. Loud and clumsy or strange is not. And so, with great practice, I learned not to speak to others, to know more but not too much about everything than anyone else, and to turn every trip and fall into a graceful, intended maneuver. I made sure to travel with only the most unobtrusive of characters—Ten Ten and Hinata, for instance—and was never allied with anyone, therefore sparing myself the possibility of attracting jealousy, for hanging out with the leaders, or scorn, for the losers. My clothing was carefully neutral, and I accepted the sunglasses of my clan with the greatest unspoken reluctance.

It worked. Overnight I was respected, labeled as mysterious and stoic and not to be messed with, and all left me alone, speaking with the greatest politeness if we were to meet. I was very pleased with myself for many years, until I realized with a jolt that this had turned me into the unhappiest person in Konoha. Even Naruto laughed now and then, but I, who was never alone, had not smiled for as long as I could remember, and at another person, never.

Rather timidly, I attempted to rejoin the world again, observing to see how I might be able to fit in. The truth came as a desperate ache that drove me to my knees, out in the woods of my bugs. There was no way. I would have to give up my powers, my constant companionship, and even then, it might not make a difference. The groups were too tightly knit and I had kept myself locked away for too long. I would have to remain my fakely stoic self until I died.

So depressed was I in my reluctant decision to hide that I managed to utterly forget to, stripping down for the onsen. I had taken off my shirt when Ino walked in, carrying towels, apparently the volunteer of the day. She started a line of hasty apologies that turned into deafening, panicked screams as my water-loathing females started trickling from my chakra vents, and I froze completely, gripped by the same pain from before. Sensing my mood, my overzealous defenders poured out en masse, driving her to hysterics as I generally stood and shook like a cockroach in flashlight.

She was the girl you were crushing on at the moment, so of course you came to her rescue, a kunai in each claw-tipped hand and a mass of growling red fur at your side. I could do nothing but stare at you in a terrified, cowardly manner as a cloud of bugs swarmed between us—I had taken off my glasses and so therefore couldn't hide behind them, and my defenselessness overwhelmed me. The reason for the trademark shades became painfully obvious then, and I was filled with disgust and pity for my family. Why must we live with those others hate?

You did not kill me, or them, like I had feared. Instead, in an incredibly stupid move on your part, you laughed and clunked her on the head fondly with your kunai, voice scornful. "What, you're afraid of bugs? What kind of ninja are you?"

She slapped you and ran out, and you, who had been pursuing her avidly for months, simply shrugged it off and turned away. Akamaru sneezed at a bug on his nose and I regained my senses, calling the insects back. They returned, but, to my great embarrassment, refused to move inside despite my pleadings, protecting and destroying me at the same time. Resisting the strong urge to cry, for I knew I would not be able to handle the additional humiliation that would bring, my body apparently decided that my day truly could get much, much worse and the bugs were already scrambling out of the way of the growing wetness on my face. I could not rub it away without killing them, and despite my fury, I stayed my hand. They were my friends, and they didn't know any better, even if I wish they did.

You did not run, although you looked like you might want to. Emotions were never your strong suit. "Hey," you said uncomfortably. "Hey. Hey. Um. Oh. You cold?" And you took your jacket off and put it on me over the bugs; they even stuck to your hand and you didn't shake them off, merely grinned at them as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your dog sat beside my foot and carefully sniffed at them, but did not harm my friends.

"That's better, right?" you asked, still smiling, and for the first time in years, if ever, I couldn't help but smile back. You laughed in return, having won over the indescribable Shino, and Akamaru yipped in a friendly sort of way. "They go through your skin, don't they?"

"Yes," I replied. My glasses were behind you and I couldn't reach for them without being rude. I carefully went over the advantages and disadvantages of this, wondering how long I could stand being so exposed.

"Does it tickle?"

I looked at you, wondering if you were teasing, but you seemed earnest enough. "Not really. Not unless they're trying."

"They have a sense of humor, then?" You smiled again at my nod—smiling, at me—and admired the insects on your hand. I went for my glasses, but Akamaru leapt up, snatching them out of my hand, and dashed behind you again. You laughed, and then cringed, as a dog unsure of his master's reaction.

"He said he likes the color of your eyes and that you shouldn't cover them up," you said apologetically. Outside of battle, I had never received a complement, and was extremely unsure of what one did in such circumstances.

"Thank you," I replied lamely, and you blushed and laughed.

"He said it, not me... well, I mean..."

"Then thank you, Akamaru."

He yipped around my glasses, then, wagging his tail, deposited them in my hand. For once, I did not put them on, slipping them in the pocket of your jacket instead. You looked at me curiously.

"I didn't know you knew his name," you said.

"Everyone knows about Kiba and Akamaru," I told you. It was certainly true. Not that any of the kids didn't know one of the others, of course, but some of them, like Hinata, tended to invoke a blank before a brief 'oh, her' response. Kiba, like Neji, was one of the private stars.

"Yeah," you replied, and your expression was bitter. "The boy that sleeps with the dogs." That was a kind way of putting what some of the villagers said. Your family was powerful, so they said it quietly, but it was spoken of all the same. It suddenly annoyed me very greatly that they did, that you would ever have reason to scowl.

"It must be comfortable," I said, surprising both of us. "Warm." We had left the bathhouse behind us awhile ago, walking through the forest in the general direction of the memorial. Warm was what it wasn't, here at the beginning of winter.

Your eyes lit up in puppy joy, sourness gone. "Right! It's great around this time. They're real clean too, no fleas or anything." And, amazingly, that wasn't a crack at my bugs. You honestly found nothing wrong with them. I didn't know what to think about that.

Speaking about warmth, you were shaking with cold, hair still soaked from the onsen, even though you hadn't complained or even asked for your jacket back. I started to take off the covering you gave me and my insects swarmed, latching it down pointedly. They almost never gave an opinion, and I gaped at them in surprise as you burst into laughter.

"Do you think they like the fur?" you asked. You leaned close up, smelling your collar around my neck, invading my personal space in a way that no one else had done in my memory. My breath caught in my throat and I did a quick exercise in holding still.

I replied, "Maybe. Here," and I offered you my jacket. Instead of rejecting it offhand as I expected, you pulled it on, grinning. The collar came up right under your eyes.

"I always wanted to try this on. It's lighter than it looks. What do you think, Akamaru?" You turned, the jacket spinning out from you, and struck a pose. The dog barked his approval, and I found myself laughing for a few seconds before I clamped my mouth shut, startled.

"You don't..." I didn't find out what I don't, because you stopped as we reached the memorial, watching it. My eyes strayed that way as well. Family members of mine were there, true, but I kept myself so isolated that it brought no great sentimental feelings to the surface. I realized that no one, save maybe my father, would care if my name ended up on there, and I looked away. You did as well, but I suspect for a much different reason. Some spoke badly of you, true, but most did not, and I could not imagine that you would be in danger of being forgotten.

Akamaru whined, and you nodded in response. My bugs spoke now and then, little more than requests towards climate changes usually, so I did not give you the odd look you received so often. I think you were grateful, maybe.

"Even though it smells sad here, I still like coming," you said, breaking the silence after a while. I had been trying to come up with something to say for at least a minute, and was relieved that you had managed to save the mood, that your words weren't an excuse to leave. I gave some lame response in return, and you laughed as if I were clever as Shikamaru or stupid as Naruto despite it. Your dog barked and you growled something back before sighing.

"He says I have to go. My mum is pretty strict about us being in before dark on school days." Something in my chest sunk—for surely, before this, I didn't have a heart—and I nodded. Your face brightened. "But, since your bugs like the jacket... maybe we can have this trade for tonight, right, and we can meet back here tomorrow before class? That way, you don't have to disturb your friends." There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind your words, but for the life of me, I could not figure out what it was.

I nodded as you picked up Akamaru, burying your face in his fur and coming across as surprisingly adorable. My glasses in your pocket hit my side as I moved, and I went to slip them on. You had turned down the path and were slowly making your way home, but something in me drove me to know.

"Kiba?" I called. You leapt and scurried back, as if you wanted to stay. "I heard that dogs were colorblind. Is that true? Sorry, I just wanted to know," I added quickly to stop the cautious hurt in your eyes. You nodded.

"Yeah, but their noses make up for it entirely, really. W…they can smell about anything."

My lips were curved in a smile before I even realized it, and stayed that way as we said our goodbyes and parted. You liked the color of my eyes, and the idea left the strangest, not altogether unpleasant feeling through me. And tomorrow, we would speak again, and maybe my constant companions would still refuse to let go of your coat, and I'd just have to hold onto it another day…

They say the Aburame are never lonely. Walking home, my bugs around me and a friend heading down the opposite path, I could truly understand what they meant.


Hope you enjoy. Let me know if you see any mistakes that should be changed, or have any comments to make. )