A/N: Hey, dear readers and lurkers! Welcome back. My good intentions always seem to pave the highway to hell, i.e. trying to get more written during the weekdays. Well, I'm sure you forgive me for working for a living, LOL. Please enjoy.

Chapter Thirty-seven: Shino, Alone

Stone cold awake at two in the morning, Shino studied the 32 unchanging tiles on the ceiling. Rectangular. Pocked. White, but dingy. Lights were off in the hospital rooms at nine, so he lay, motionless in the dark. Even the dimmest ray of light- -which beamed from the quarter moon- -shined into the corners and outlined furniture in the functional room.

What had happened?

For hours now, he had thought and tried to remember. He'd drained his chakra at some point, and when he shifted in the bed, a seizure of muscles in his chest and shoulders revealed a sealing jutsu's uncomfortable fit. No matter how much he stepped backwards into his mind, the curtain over his memory wouldn't part. Everything in his head was a jumble- -puzzle pieces and shogi markers and mahjong tiles dumped in a disarrayed heap on the floor. No rhyme or reason to any of it, no answers to his own damn questions.

Footsteps in the hall alerted him to the on-duty nurse on her rounds. His door swung open, and Shino feigned sleep, wishing for but unable to obtain the real thing. It was easier to pretend to be asleep even though he could catch the nurse off-guard and ask the questions hounding him: What had happened? Why was his chakra exhausted? Why was he in the hospital? Why the hospital and not the family clinic as his uncle was best suited for his treatment?

Also, he couldn't be bothered to deal with the nosy doctor who would prod and poke him with gleeful curiosity, and Shino didn't trust anyone outside his family to understand the differences of an Aburame host to regular, normal shinobi. In conclusion, something major must've happened for him to be admitted into the hospital.

Patiently, he waited as she checked his vitals on the heart monitor and squeezed at the fluids hung in bags from the IV tree. Scratching as her pen marked figures on his chart. Perfume, some spicy dark scent reminiscent of an exotic place, maybe Suna, tickled his nose. He stifled a sneeze. After another moment, he tracked her as she exited the room and closed the door with a quiet click.

I am left alone again. A keen sense of loss, a vast void, had culled a hole in his chest. What had caused this feeling? The…absence…was familiar. When Grandmother Kahori had crossed into the next world, he had grieved and it had felt like this. Has someone I know died? Grandfather? The next second, he perished the thought. No, do not jump to conclusions. Do not frighten yourself.

Eyes on the ceiling, he continued to contemplate his presence in the hospital. He had no external damage, no bandages or plaster or gauze. But…something was wrong. His precious kikaichu made no sense- -their messages to him were garbled, disjointed, when before, they had always been clear, he had always understood them.

What's happened? Why can't I remember?

It wasn't yesterday he'd forgotten, but a span of time back to the beginning of the month. He remembered Ino. Yes, that's right. The Yamanaka greenhouse. He'd had a plan to begin social interactions with her. Later, he found her and Sakura at an outdoor café, dango between them, and had approached Ino with his offer. Ino was so beautiful and inquisitive and her blue eyes had penetrated him and unnerved him so the conversation had been awkward.

Abruptly, a powerful, blunt-force pain pummeled his chest. He gasped, found he couldn't breathe, and brushed elbows with panic. What is this? He'd never felt such emotion before, and as he coped with the chest pain, a headache clenched his brain with sharp, unforgiving claws. Somewhere in the mess he had flashes of quick, violent action. Training? Missions? He remained unsure. For a long time, he couldn't settle, but eventually, the pain seeped away. Shino circled his thoughts around these bursts of memory for the rest of the night.

The next morning a doctor, cheerful and competent, breezed in to examine him. Following him was Uncle Shiro, silent and hidden behind his usual high-collared lab coat.

"Good morning, Mr. Shino!" greeted the outsider doctor. "How did you sleep?"

The upbeat demeanor of this doctor annoyed him. "Fine. Good morning to you, doctor. Uncle Shiro."

"I'm Dr. Seto. Your uncle and I know each other from our medical training days, so as a courtesy, I've invited him to observe. He's not affiliated with the hospital, so he can't complete the examination. I hope you don't mind." Get on with it. Dr. Seto accepted the clipboard from the new shift nurse and scanned over the information. "Your father brought you in yesterday. Everything looked normal, but we wanted to monitor you overnight. Do you…remember anything? Why you were unconscious?"

"No."

"Do you mind if I ask a few general questions?"

"No." This sustained conversation annoyed him and tested the bounds of his patience. Dr. Seto asked Shino's full name, birthdate, what village the Kazekage lived in, and who the present Hokage was. Shino answered the questions. In the meanwhile, Uncle Shiro looked over the chart on the clipboard.

"Shino, tell me the last memory you have."

He had gotten further last night. "My jounin exams, but some of it is hazy."

"I see. No one seems to know why you were unconscious. We guess it was a jutsu gone wrong. Amnesia in these cases is not unusual. Your memory should come back in full anywhere from a day to a couple weeks. Again, the timeframe is normal. We've triple checked your brain, spine, and nerves for any damage. All the tests came back good. Your vision and hearing are normal. White cell count, blood, breathing and lungs were fine, so were bones and muscles. As far as I'm concerned, you're as fit as a fiddle."

What a ridiculous comparison. Yet…it sounds familiar. Where had he heard it before?

"Your chakra has been exhausted. It'll be a few days before you're able to perform the full range of your jutsu. However, I see no reason to keep you here. You need rest, so no strenuous activity. Definitely no missions or spars or training until you are fully recovered. Drink lots of water and eat plenty of fresh vegetables and protein. Did you have any questions?"

"No." None I wish to ask you.

"After you've dressed, head to the nurse's station. I'm releasing you into your uncle's care, so he'll sign the requisite forms."

"I see." Even if the doctor knew more about why Shino was here, he would've revealed it in their conversation. The sooner he spoke to his father and uncle about the amnesia, the better. Uncle Shiro didn't add to the conversation, but his reticence could be to protect clan business. Shino assumed he would discuss matters more thoroughly in private.

"Dr. Haruno wanted to see you before you left," said Dr. Seto. "I'll let her know you're ready for her."

What does Sakura want? What a pain. Shino glanced to Uncle Shiro. "Is she permitted to examine me?"

Uncle Shiro shrugged. "She is the best of the best. It cannot hurt for her to share her medical expertise. I will wait for you outside the door."

Dr. Seto and Uncle Shiro left the room, and the nurse opened the standing closet. Inside, on hangers, were his coat, flak jacket, and regulation uniform. His boots peeked from below. Next to his boots was a stocky crate with drawers. She gestured to his clothes, bowed to him, and as she left, she took a plastic sign from the inside doorknob to place it outside. At last, some privacy. He found his underwear in one of the drawers, as well as his bandanna and sunglasses. In the silence of the room, he pulled on his clothes and was in the middle of tying his dusty bootlaces, when Sakura knocked.

"Shino? It's Sakura. Will you open the door, please?"

When he did, she brushed past him into the room, demeanor brisk and businesslike. Her white lab coat flipped behind her, her pink hair swishing around her neck. A clipboard was clenched in her hand, and he guessed it was his stats from Dr. Seto.

"Good morning, Shino. Please sit on the bed." Her whole aura suggested he ought to do as she said. "Unzip your flak jacket and lift your shirts."

"I have been examined already."

"Not by me you haven't," she responded. She sternly restated her previous request: "Unzip your flak jacket and lift your shirts."

He wasn't in the mood to fight, and in fact, didn't have the energy, so he complied. If she was surprised with the clan markings, she didn't show it. She placed her gloved hands on his chest. The application of her chakra was so forceful he winced as it raced inside his network like a cold sweep of frost. Her chakra spread into chest, shoulders, and along his arms and legs. Shino shivered from how fast she explored his insides, and even the kikaichu scuttled in an uncomfortable rustle. He glanced at her- -did she realize how aggressive her chakra was? Green eyes focused, eyebrows contracted, she frowned at his chest.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Quiet. I'm counting your heart beats."

He didn't speak to her until she dropped her hands and continued to wear a formidable scowl (of which Father would approve). The pen tapped on the clipboard. Her next words smacked of disappointment. "Everything checks out."

"Were you expecting any differently?" When she didn't respond, her expression puzzled, Shino rose from the bed and adjusted his clothing. The hoarfrost in his veins continued to tingle. "I wish to go home. I am grateful for the attentive care, Sakura. Thank you." Now may I leave?

"Hold it." Her fierce gaze transfixed him. "What do you remember from yesterday?"

"I do not know why I was unconscious." Shino moved toward the exit, and to curtail any further questions, he said, "I am tired. I would like to rest."

"Shino, wait!" She grabbed his coat sleeve, and instead of thoughtful or puzzled, she looked concerned. "You should stay longer. We can run more tests to figure out your amnesia."

How had she known? Probably Dr. Seto. "No. I trust my memory will return with time."

She looked like she wanted to argue with him, to force him to stay, but she pursed her lips together and relented. "If anything feels weird, come back. I'm worried about this."

"Thank you for your concern. I will be fine. Good day."

Before she could delay him further, he left the room for the cool hospital corridor. Uncle Shiro peeled off from his spot on the wall and strolled along with him in amiable silence. When they rounded the corner, Shino froze. Yamanaka Inoichi was down the hall at the nurse's station, signing a form. And who should be next to him but his daughter Ino. Her long fall of white-blonde hair, the flash of purple skirt and creamy skin, slammed into him. The kikaichu writhed under his skin, screamed something he couldn't interpret, and thrashed against the confines of the seal.

With the kikaichu's violent reaction came an enormous shaft of pain- -pain with no origin, no end, worsened from how hard and frantically his heart galloped. A sudden image of her flared in front of his eyes, and she was splayed out in stunning, flagrant nudity. Under the electric currents jolting in his nerves, the kikaichu called out and again, he couldn't understand them or this…overreaction to Ino. The field of his vision narrowed to a pinprick, and Shino fell away from pain, from Ino's image burned into his mind and the confusion of the kikaichu.

The next instant, he awoke to the family clinic. He had no idea of time- -was it hours later or even the same day? Strong, gold sun shone into the windows. Afternoon, maybe? Information didn't connect, had no relationship with him, and he felt he'd been thrashed, shaken and rattled around. Soreness, the aftertaste of pain, lingered throughout his body and faint nausea. The kikaichu continued their restless scuttles under his skin, the burrow pathways raw and dry.

At his bedside sat his mother, leaned back in a ratty armchair, elbow propped on the armrest, eyes half-closed. How long had she waited for him to wake? Guilt welled - -he was forever worrying her. She seemed to intuit his awakening because she blinked, sitting straighter in the chair and flicked her expectant gaze to him. When she saw he was looking at her, she smiled and reached forward to stroke his hair from his face.

"How are you, dearest?"

"I am fine. You did not need to wait by my side," he told her.

Her smile faded, but those liquid brown eyes deepened with emotion. "I'm your mother," she responded, and her simple statement explained everything. She rose from the chair and stepped to a door hidden around a large, over-stacked bookshelf, where she depressed a button by the light switches. A faint buzz resounded from behind the wall. "Besides, you can't be left alone, at least until the reason for your unconsciousness can be determined."

Tch. She sounded like Uncle Shiro, and as Shino studied her, he knew he would not convince her of his good health and well-being. At least, not flat on his back as he was. "How is Grandfather?"

"He's doing well, Shino-dear. He misses you."

Shino closed his eyes in relief. His worry in the hospital had been unfounded, thank goodness. A minute or two later, Uncle Shiro slipped through the backdoor of the clinic. His uncle pushed a chair to Shino's bedside and sat, and Shino waited like a beetle under the quiet, intense examination of an Aburame doctor. Mother had resumed her perch in the armchair.

"So, nephew." Uncle Shiro nudged his shades. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I have some pain and soreness."

"Hm. That is to be expected. You are perfectly healthy except for your exhausted chakra. I might even suggest your chakra levels caused the first and second falls into unconsciousness. You were lucky I was with you in the hospital, otherwise you would've extended your stay."

"Thank you, uncle." Shino was sure he could not have coped with a longer stay under Sakura's care.

"Hn. The question then remains, why is your chakra exhausted in the first place?" Uncle Shiro posed the question half to himself which meant he didn't require a response from the patient. "And, furthermore, your initial collapse occurred in the middle of nowhere. Why were you there? What were you doing? We are at a loss. Additionally, your kikaichu have been disruptive. We were forced to keep the sealing jutsu on you to avoid an incident in the hospital." He listened with an ear cocked toward Shino. "They continue to be rebellious, so the seal will remain on you for the time being."

Shino accepted the decision without complaint. He was in no condition to deal with unruly destruction beetles. "Did Father not provide any further explanation?"

"No. He had no information to add. He, too, has lost his memory of the event. Your case is fascinating."

Shino bit back his annoyance. "Am I required to remain in the clinic?"

"I see no reason to keep you. We have run you through a gamut of tests and none have indicated any catastrophic changes in your health." Uncle Shiro paused, and when he next spoke, Shino noted the change in tone. "Despite your apparent good health, I must order you to stay both in the vicinity and around another family member for at least two days or more."

The annoyance segued into outright exasperation. Thanks to his recent promotion, Shino ranked as an equal jounin to his uncle and outranked him in the clan as their future leader. While Shino toyed with the possibility of overruling the order, with his mother present, he'd have to oppose her, as well. As such, his odds of victory were slim. Better to comply and save his energy. "Understood."

"Good." Uncle Shiro handed Mother a sachet. "Here are some herbs to mix in with hot tea for the discomfort. Twice a day should be sufficient." To Shino he said, "Come see me immediately if something changes, particularly with the kikaichu."

"I will do so."

The seal hurt, the kikaichu hurt, and the pervasive grief hurt; each hurt a different way. Hardly aware of it, Shino followed her out of the clinic into the hot maw of Konoha in July. It was too bright. A weak breeze whispered through the air, but it wasn't cooling and did not even stir the leaves. The oppressive heat squeezed itself around his brain into a throbbing headache.

"When we get home, I want to lie down," he said to her back. "Anywhere dark and quiet."

She murmured a response, and he assumed she agreed based on the tone of her voice. They rounded the green square without additional conversation. Inside the familiar entryway, Mother pulled off his coat and flak jacket. She assisted him without permission, but he said nothing to deter her as she was calm in the face of her anxiousness. As he unknotted his boots, she arranged a futon and blankets in the living room. He settled in, thankful for the heavy curtains his mother drew over the windows, and he relaxed as she fussed with the blanket spread over him.

She left, and Shino stewed in the solitude. He counted the pulsations of the headache and wondered about the amnesia and the pain and the kikaichu, but his thoughts were difficult to organize. The all-over pain worsened. Soon after, Mother was at his side again, murmuring to him and lifting his head. He took the hint and propped up on his elbow. She put a cup of cooled tea to his mouth, which smelled terrible, and disgusted, he turned away his face. Mother spoke to him, her exact words unclear, but she was stern and insistent, so he drank. When he'd drained the cup, she let him lay back and left him alone. Soon after, the pain lessened and he must've drifted off.

"Shino, wake up." Someone shook him. "Dinner's ready."

Shino woke a little, peering at the world from under heavy lids. Father knelt at his side, trademark frown in place. What now? I am not hungry. Go away. Shino couldn't get his throat or tongue to work enough to speak, so he kept silent. When Shino didn't respond, Father flipped back the blanket, so cold air chilled him.

"You need to eat." Father's low voice was faint, at a distance. He read his father's lips more than he heard him. "Please come to dinner."

Shino shook his head and knew he waded into dangerous waters with his disobedience. But why should he move? His pain was not as pronounced as it had been earlier, but slithery, thick aches occupied his entire body and crouched in wait for an opportunity to strike. Shifting even an inch would hurt beyond reason. Eating was not worth the hurt he'd feel. Besides, the thought of solid food revolted him. Leave me alone.

Father frowned. "You will join us at the table and you will eat."

Shino shook his head and closed his eyes to slide backwards into peace and quiet, shutting himself off from Father. Silence. Then some movement happened at his side. A gentle hand rubbed his chest. He opened his eyes. Tch. Mother. His father broke the rules every time, no surprise. "Shino-dear, please come to the table and eat with us," Mother said. Her voice was closer and easier to hear. "Please get up."

No, he felt like saying, but he had never ignored or opposed his mother before in his life. He could never bear to hurt her. She didn't deserve it. Shino sighed and, after a minute to gather his faculties, sat up. Pain was present, but tolerable. Mother was at his side; Father loomed behind her in the doorway to the dining room. He began to stand when an inescapable compression crushed his chest, his shoulders, and a terrible, cold knot tightened in his heart, causing the kikaichu to hiss and seethe with irritation. He flinched and swayed, but his mother steadied him with an arm around his waist.

"Shibi, I think he should stay in bed," she said. The words were muffled, far away even though she was right beside him. Strange. "He doesn't look well."

His father responded…Shino didn't hear what he said, his voice was too low. Mother said, "You'll have to help me. He's too heavy for me to support."

As Father approached, a sudden fear response brought Shino back into balance. Throat dry, a cold damp broke in his armpits, fine hair on end. Where the fear came from, he couldn't understand. Father had always intimidated him, true, but he was never afraid. Father was strong, and determined, and at this moment, did nothing but stand in the room. Nevertheless, Shino perceived an unmistakable threat. Why did he feel this way? Not now. He'd think on it later. Get to the table. With a strength pulled from his depths, Shino straightened and took his weight off Mother's shoulders.

"Shino…" Mother whispered. He looked across at his father. I do not need you.

Father had stopped to observe, his expression unreadable. Ignoring the continuous pain, Shino took a tentative step, discovered solid ground, and with more confidence, passed his father to take his place at the family chabudai. Grandfather was already seated and his presence gave Shino great comfort and relief. Grandfather patted Shino's back and said something. Like Father's voice, Grandfather's voice was hard to hear and worse, Grandfather's giant mustache covered his mouth, so Shino couldn't read his lips. Unwilling to exert more effort, Shino issued a neutral nod and stared at his plate. Throughout dinner, Shino ate sparsely, as the food had no taste and he hadn't an appetite for it. No one nagged at him to eat more.

After dinner, Mother tried to shoo him into bed, but he shook his head and instead, washed the dishes as she dried, her mouth a slash of disapproval. The repetitive motions, the suds, and hot water soothed him. Pain was a constant demon in his chest and temples, and the domestic activity took his mind off it. Father had disappeared into his study; Grandfather had remained at the chabudai. Once the dishes were dry and replaced, Mother stood with him at the foot of the stairs.

"Go up and have a bath before bed," she told him. He looked at the flight of stairs to the upstairs bathroom. I will not manage it…too much effort. Shaking his head, he instead stepped toward the futon in the living room. One step was all he could get before Mother was in front of him, hands planted on his shoulders, pressing him back. "Shino, if you don't do this for yourself, I will."

He hesitated. She had power over him, she could call Father whenever she wanted, and she did not make an idle threat. What a pain. The idea of his mother seeing him naked mortified him, so he gave in to her and climbed the stairs one painful step at a time. It was an eternity and halfway up, he stopped and thought about quitting. He couldn't as Mother hovered behind him with The Look. Once in his old bedroom, she handed him clean, folded pajamas and a plush towel.

"Come back downstairs in ten minutes or I come in after you," she threatened. "Do you understand?"

He nodded. She left him alone. The ever-present headache pounded around his brain with a vengeance, a steady hammer on an anvil in his temples. He stumbled out of his clothes, bathed as best he could with the tender muscles and aching joints, and the devilish pain yowling in his chest. His kikaichu squirmed; when even one twitched a leg, he felt fresh misery. He finished, went downstairs, and found his mother had brewed another batch of the medicinal tea. With The Look a permanent fixture on her face, he didn't dare defy her, so he drank it and kept his cringe inward.

Evening quiet descended on the household. At last, he was alone in the dark, tucked in under a quilt. The medicinal tea had calmed the kikaichu. He studied the whorls in the plaster above him, thinking. What had he forgotten? Why were his kikaichu upset? Why did the hole in his chest expand, edges of his emotions crumbling into the void? His mind spiraled around the dashes of memory until he remembered the hospital and Ino. A sweet, sweet tension burned through him- -embers of need smoldered and ached deep below. Oh, yes. The snapshot of her in his head clarified, and with it, a waft of a flowery scent; her soft hair gleamed such a bright blonde in the sunlight; her sky-blue eyes sparkled and laughed at him.

The power of his desire for her frightened him, sent frantic messages back and forth along his spine; the kikaichu woke, stirred, and chattered at him but he couldn't understand. The dull throb returned, exacerbated with the restlessness of the beetles inside their burrows. He clenched his hands in the quilt and took steadying breaths. I have to see her. Just once, just a quick look at her; he needed it, craved it. The kikaichu continued their incomprehensible rabble. Ino's image faded under the multitude of sharp pinpricks, the chafe of the sealing jutsu, the throb in head and heart. He chased after her, further, deeper, underneath everything, free from torment.

Where…? A comforting scent caressed his senses- -dew, cooled earth, lithe and succulent flora. Oh. This was okay. He hadn't forgotten the forget-me-not field from their childhood. Except it was nighttime and hushed and not even a cricket chirruped or a firefly glowed, but the silence did not concern him. Ino was around here, his instinct told him. Perhaps she hid in the thick bunches of flower buds, among the tall stalks of field grass, teasing him as she did when they were seven. He would search for her. He would find her.

How many days or hours elapsed in contented bliss, he wasn't sure, but an awful smell grabbed at him. What is that? The field around him distorted, and as suddenly, terrible teeth sank into his chest. He tensed, gasping from the agony, everywhere and all at once. No. I won't leave. But the damage was already done. Nighttime blinked into daylight; he lost the field and in its place came the living room and Mother's worried face in his full view. She spoke to him, but the kikaichu hissed and rattled static in his ears and he didn't hear what she said. She held a teacup in her hand- -the source of the putrid stink.

When she tilted the cup to his mouth, he twisted away his head, nauseated from the stench of the medicine and also angered with her interference in his search for Ino. Mother tried again and again he refused the cup. At the third time, he blocked her hand and her face clouded with aggravation. She said some things to him, lost under the noise of the kikaichu. Defiantly, he shook his head. She called out into the house from over her shoulder. He didn't hear who she called, her mouth obscured by the angle of her head, but in the middle of another attempt to get him to drink the medicine, his father appeared in the doorway.

Senses exploded in a chaotic maelstrom of dread. The compression on his chest clenched tighter; he couldn't catch a breath. Hundreds of tiny voices screamed- -his kikaichu- -and they bucked under the sealing jutsu. Heat and agony. He trembled as walls closed around him. Blind, he had but one thought: Get away. Get away now. Pushing from his mother to his feet, his legs carried him in a charge forward, past the danger, and into sunlight and moist heat where he collapsed to hands and knees on green, green grass.

Kikaichu continued to screech and resist his influence. The sealing jutsu stopped cold their attempts to leave. Calm down. Calm down. He'd hyperventilate at this rate, but he couldn't concentrate because the kikaichu's voices filled every cell, every nerve of his body with their fury. Wave after wave of needles stabbed him, and as the kikaichu thrashed, their voices were thunderous in his head, repeating the same drone over and over. In a sudden lucid moment, he understood the kikaichu wanted free of the sealing jutsu…and of him. Why? What had he done wrong?

No. He didn't accept it, couldn't accept it.

Strong arms gathered him close, cradled him. Confused, he focused his dazed attention. Father's golden eyes, hue richened with compassion and love he'd never before seen, pierced him. Father was omniscient. He'd know what to do. The torture was too much and air impossible to find. Shino was out of his depth. How? Why?

Father said, "We must release the seal."

From inside the prism of forever-horror and agony, Shino struggled to understand. "No. They intend to leave."

"You must let them." Father held him together as he endured blinding white anguish. "They will consume you from the inside out."

"No."

But his father was always stronger than him. Father slipped a hand under the hem of Shino's shirt, calloused but gentle. Shino flexed and strained away, a wretched worm on a hook. The trauma had sapped his energy and he only managed a pathetic flop. No escape. He grabbed at Father's hand, but it was immovable. No escape. No one will save me.

"Do not be afraid, son. You will survive this. Lie still."

"Papa, please." The terror and grief and panic overwhelmed him. He was four years old and watched, powerless, as his father's tall figure walked away into a dim and uncertain future. Would Papa ever come back? Did Papa leave because he, Shino, was a disappointment? He choked on a sob. "Please don't, Papa!"

Tears spilled hot and fast down his cheeks, and Shino watched, powerless as his four year old self, as Father spread a firm hand on his chest. Anything, I'll do anything! "No! No…don't!"

Chakra spiked; the kikaichu reacted to it and the stiff harness of the sealing jutsu slackened and was gone. The kikaichu hesitated- -for one brief, shining moment, Shino believed they'd stay with him- -and then in a fluid, buzzing stream, they evacuated his body. They were quick about it and didn't dwell. He could do nothing except watch them, a cloud of constant movement and sound, as they flew in the direction of the insect sanctuary to their original queen. Peaceful blue sky reached overhead, undisturbed.

It didn't register for a minute. And when it did, the agony was unimaginable, unbearable, his soul and his heart torn from his body. A low, guttural wail surged upwards from within, an inarticulate expression of pure tormented grief. No vocabulary existed which could describe the emotion, the…feeling of a connection intertwined in him for so long cut off, amputated with surgical precision. Inside, the silence was total. The absence complete. He was abandoned. Rejected. Alone. So very alone. He…he couldn't get air…

"Breathe deep. Slow in, slow out."

Who was he now? He did as he was told, panting at first, but compliant under the firm commandments, flailing for a grasp on himself, on anything. How was he alive? He should be dead. He wanted to be dead. No. No, the kikaichu…my precious kikaichu! They're gone...

Breathe deep. Slow in, slow out. He calmed some. Hands and feet tingled, were cold. Sweat stuck cloth to his skin. Such emptiness greeted him, such numbness, an infinite void. It is me.

"Keep breathing. It will pass."

I am nothing. He understood now. The ground below him shifted. Shino didn't see it, but he felt it as jaws gaped open to consume him. Sliding a bit into the musty, earthen mouth, he flung out his arms to brace himself. Blue sky spun above him. He had no strength left, no fight, nothing. He was nothing. I am nothing. I'm alone. "Papa…I'm falling…"

"I have you."

Father's arms were iron bands around him, holding him physically in place, but the sky blurred and darkened, fading away as a silent, black hole swallowed him. Resigned, he welcomed it. He slipped away effortlessly and became nothing.

A/N: Lots of pretentious metaphorical stuff above. Also, this was quite a traumatic chapter to write (and read, I'm guessing). Sorry-not-sorry. Thanks for your time and patience, and I'll see you soon.