The Aburame clan had a long history of scaring the living shit out of the people of Konoha simply by existing.
Indeed, their nature was not for the faint of heart. Insects could throw even the most strong-willed humans into pure panic—the fear seemed to be ingrained into the laws of human biology itself. If anyone else, any clan less intimidating or any shinobi less worth their salt, offered their newborn children as hosts for chakra parasites, they would surely be shunned entirely by the rest of the village.
But the lives of ninja were strange anyway, and so the Aburame family was only regarded with the highest respect—if induced mostly out of mild horror, lack of understanding of their bodies' mechanics, and knowledge of their fighting prowess.
When Shino first saw the tiny beetles crawl across his body, tickling the plump skin around his stomach and short infant arms, he thought they were the most amazing things he'd ever seen.
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His eyesight was poor to begin with, and the sunglasses didn't help.
Thankfully, though, Iruka-sensei assigned him to a seat in the front row on his first day at the academy. Shino preferred the front of the class as it was, especially since it would keep him away from the rowdier kids who occupied the back of the room. He wasn't there to make friends; he would study diligently, train even harder, and then graduate to genin.
When it was announced that graduating meant they would be put into teams based on their grades and performance, Shino was determined to work harder. True shinobi, intelligent and talented shinobi, would only appreciate his gifts rather than run away screaming—that was what his parents had ingrained into him.
His seat at the front helped him focus on the teacher during his first weeks as a student rather than the ill-spirited snickers and whispers behind him. They hardly affected him anyway, those sharp whistles of words against his back.
It was fine. He wasn't there to make friends.
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Whenever spring weather started to make its appearance after a long winter, Iruka-sensei loved taking his students out to spend near-entire class days outside. Konoha was blessed with generally warm, pleasant weather, and the teacher claimed it boosted morale all around.
During lunch and break time, the students separated off into their own groups. Most of the girls tended to linger by the flower bushes, while the boys exchanged comic books and playfully roughhoused by the swings and monkey bars. There were a few kids who strayed along the edges by themselves—namely one Uzumaki Naruto, who was always trying to stir up some trouble. Shino preferred to keep to himself and ate his lunch beneath a huge, fragrant tree, sometimes picking its verdant leaves off the ground and arranging them for his bugs to play on.
The cool air of the morning had bloomed into a steady and mild heat. Beneath Shino's hood and high collar, he was uncomfortably warm and longed to unzip his jacket since the only thing beneath it was his mesh shirt. He could almost feel the way the air would hit his sweat-coated skin. He even reached for the zipper in front of the tip of his nose, not worried about whether anyone would see the marks from where bugs could slip out from beneath his skin.
The zipper was not even an inch past his mouth when a few boys approached him, kicking their feet against the grass just hard enough to spray dirt on the remains of Shino's lunch.
"'Sup, Aburame?" one of them sneered, hands in his pockets. "Got a beehive under there?"
The rest of the posse chuckled behind him. "Yeah," another started haughtily, "your cockroach den getting a little too warm?"
Shino sat calmly with his hands rested on his lap, convincing himself he was finished with his food before these kids had come to bother him. His immobile silence and his lack of reaction spurred them on further.
"I bet your house is like a trashcan. Your whole clan probably smells like old food and sewage. That's why those nasty bugs always hang around, isn't it?" This boy laughed and high-fived another. Shino still refused to budge.
"Freak. Look at him, sitting out here with his stupid ants because no one else wants to be around him."
"No wonder you're always alone, dude. You don't bathe and you're creepy."
"Too bad your mom's dead and isn't there to—"
"You should know better than to make me angry."
Every boy in the group was immediately silent and wide-eyed. Shino, behind his sunglasses, still held a neutral expression, as though he'd said nothing at all.
"What did you just say?" the first boy asked in a tone which suggested wavering bravado.
"I said," the Aburame began firmly, "you should know better than to make me angry."
The boys looked at each other warily, wondering if they should continue their insulting spree or dash. The one in the front crossed his arms and shifted on either foot, staring at Shino's motionless form—until he noticed the wave of black in the grass flowing toward him and his cohorts.
"Guys! Quiz time!" Iruka-sensei called from across the field, which caused the group of boys to jump in surprise. They turned to find him waving and beckoning them back to the classroom door. Instantly, they all broke into a sprint, one of them even tripping with a pathetic shout in his haste to get away from the boy under the tree.
After a silent moment of watching everyone line up and reenter the academy building, Shino willed his beetles back to him, waiting for each of them to find their way back into his system before standing and brushing grass off his clothes. He collected the remainder of his lunch, now sprinkled in small mounds of dirt, and made his way toward where Iruka smiled and held the door open, waiting for his last student to come inside.
If Iruka noticed Shino dropping the entire dirty lunchbox, still full of rice and poorly-chopped raw vegetables, into the trash bin, he didn't say so.
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Christmas was Shino's least favorite time of year. His parents had never really celebrated it, insisting that rewarding Shino for hard work as he earned it was better than waiting until the end of the year—a tradition his father fully adhered to, especially since he was usually away on missions during this time. It left what should have been an otherwise fun day quite annoying and inconsequential, full of freezing temperatures and excessive decorations.
It was so cold some days that he could have sworn his bugs were trembling where they sat dormant around his bones. He spent the winter school days wishing he could go home, study new species, and take naps under the kotatsu in the living room. If his dad were home, maybe they could take a small trip toward Suna and enjoy some warmer weather while observing some desert bugs. Soon enough, the boy was counting down the hours until school was out.
Finally, on the last day before their week-long Christmas break, Shino was about to get his wish. The moment class was dismissed, he diligently tucked each of his books and pens into his bag and moved to lift it over his shoulder.
Of course, though, he wasn't that lucky. The other students dashed down the classroom stairs to Iruka's desk where he and some other chuunin were setting food out on tables. Internally, Shino suppressed a groan—he'd forgotten all about the class Christmas party. If he was careful, perhaps he could sneak past the teachers and make his way home.
Somehow or another, Shino got roped into staying for the duration of the party. No one spoke to him, though he spotted Iruka glancing at him from across the room, smiling politely when he got caught looking after him. Whenever he tried to make his way over, however, Naruto and Inuzuka Kiba continually occupied him with their poor attempts at a distraction jutsu to steal the elaborate tree-shaped cake made by Akimichi Chouji's mother.
The other children in class had learned not to bother Shino, opting instead to shun him from a distance. It seemed as though unbeknownst to him, someone had spread a rumor that his insects crawled out when food was around, and so naturally everyone found a seat on the complete opposite side of the room. Because of this, he'd spent the last hour and a half in a seat by the door reading an encyclopedia of his father's, and had not even thought to touch the food or festivities.
While everyone else was laughing, singing Christmas songs, teasing each other, and having a wonderful time, Shino never felt more ready to go home. There was a strangely hollow feeling that had settled between his stomach and his chest that was most definitely not hunger. He suddenly and deeply longed for the privacy of his own bedroom, so he moved again to pick up his school bag.
"Shino-kun?" a small, gentle voice sounded from beside him. The proximity of it surprised him, and he turned to find a girl holding a plate of delicately arranged party food out toward him.
She had the strangest eyes, a pale lavender iris against flawless white, and she stood close enough for him to see how her dark eyelashes softly framed them. Her face was a glowing moon against the inky violet night of her hair. Hyuuga Hinata, his mind supplied as he watched her shoulders hunch self-consciously. The heiress of the Hyuuga clan.
"Yes?" The second he replied, the girl's faced flushed, the color spreading slowly over her lily-white nose and cheeks.
She stuck her arm out further toward him, offering him the paper plate, which he took with slight trepidation and placed on the surface of his desk.
"Um," she clasped her hands in front of her before bowing slightly, "Merry Christmas, Shino-kun. S-see you in the new year!" She smiled nervously, though rather elegantly, and walked quickly back to the other side of the classroom. Shino tore his eyes away from her retreating figure and turned them to what she'd given him.
The plate was full of food—a perfectly square slice of sponge cake with a thick swirl of green and white icing, a toothpick holding miniature dango glazed in dark syrup, sliced winter fruit, some tamagoyaki, and a crisp golden brown goma dango. It was all positioned carefully where nothing touched anything else, even though the plate was small. Shino hadn't even noticed that the girl had brought utensils as well until he saw them laying next to his hand.
It took several minutes of staring at the food before he could convince himself to eat any of it. When he did, he was sure, without exaggeration, it was the best thing he had ever tasted. He felt warm throughout his whole body, spreading steadily and then all at once as the last bites hit his stomach.
As he walked home, he remembered the way her hands trembled as she extended her arm to him. Instead of focusing on why they were shaking so much, though, all he could think about was how the tiny nanosecond of her fingertips brushing against his hand was the first physical contact he'd ever had with anyone outside his family.
His fingers flexed into a comfortable curl inside his coat pocket, and for once he hardly noticed the chilly December breeze against his face.
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