Something was upsetting the kikaichū.
Shibi frowned, trying to ignore the nagging panic of the insects at the back of his mind. It wasn't uncommon for them to randomly become agitated. Usually it involved birds, or spiders, or some other form of insect-eating creature that wondered onto the Aburame compound.
As much as he hated to admit it, there were millions of kikaichū. A few missing wouldn't make much of a difference. And they had such a short lifespan as well, so repopulation wasn't much of an issue when a few happened to be swallowed up. There were always more to take their place within hours.
Right now, however, the source of the insect's annoyance was coming from inside his house, and that was a cause for concern.
From his son's room, in fact, which was even more worrying.
Shibi frowned from behind the safety of his jacket collar.
Shino, clan prodigy that he was, very rarely caused a disturbance of any kind. He was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself, like any good Aburame. His insects were well-behaved, and Shino had excellent control over them.
So why were so many kikaichū panicking from within his bedroom?
How peculiar, Shibi thought, wondering if he should investigate.
On one hand, he didn't want to be intrusive. Aburame were extremely private people, and everyone within the clan respected each other's boundaries. It was an unspoken rule that everyone followed without question. Entering his son's bedroom uninvited wasn't exactly very respectful.
But... what if something went wrong? His son was a clan prodigy, yes, but he wasn't immortal. Shibi still vividly remembered the day he found Shino lying on a branch, slowly dying from poison. Although he understood that being a shinobi came with many risks (oh, how he knew) he was still Shino's father, and he still worried about the boy.
Shibi hesitated at Shino's bedroom door. He made sure to flare his chakra, so his son at least knew it was him standing outside, then raised his fist and knocked.
The door creaked opened.
The Aburame blinked in surprise, before realizing that Shino wasn't even in his room.
This was even more alarming. If Shino wasn't in his room, then why were the kikaichū so flustered? Was there an intruder, perhaps? Shibi doubted it, but he couldn't be too sure. It could, after all, be a threat to his son. If the kikaichū were worried, then maybe he should be too.
Shibi prepared himself for combat, releasing a small cluster of kikaichū from his body. Slowly, he pushed the door open and peered inside, half-expecting an enemy shinobi to launch out at him.
Imagine his surprise when, instead of a dangerous opponent, he saw a tiny black kitten in the middle of the room, staring at him with impossibly wide eyes.
Shibi, for the first time in his life, felt very tempted to laugh at himself for being overly cautious.
Okay, so not an enemy shinobi. Not an assassination attempt. Not even a threat.
Shibi relaxed, calling his kikaichū back.
Why did his son have a kitten in his room? Where was Shino? Out training, most likely.
As Shibi watched, a lone kikaichū landed beside the kitten. It crouched down low, tail swishing side to side, before pouncing on the tiny insect and crunching it up within seconds.
Underneath his dark glasses, Shibi's eye twitched.