"You said you could explain? Then do! I am so confused right now!" But confusion wasn't the only emotion spilling through Fugaku as he saw Hizashi's nervous expression. The Hyūga boy kept finger-brushing his hair, trying to keep it out of his face, and did his best to avoid making eye contact.

'He never expected to get caught,' Fugaku realized. "Were you even sick?"

Slowly, Hizashi shook his head. "Can we talk about this in the studio? Without Hiashi around?"

The older twin's expression soured. "Why don't you want me to hear this? Whatever explanation you owe Fugaku–"

"I don't owe you shit," Hizashi snapped. "Just go check on Tadashī-san or Buyo-sensei. This…" He caught Fugaku's wrist in his hand and held it tightly, almost as though he feared he'd lose him forever if he let go. "This is something I need to discuss in private with you only. Just humor me. Please."

And if Fugaku thought Hizashi's actions were reckless or cause for concern, he'd probably tell Hiashi anyway. Silently, the Uchiha nodded his head and permitted Hizashi to open the door. They could talk uninterrupted in the smaller apartment. Fugaku promptly shut the door and blocked it with his back and shoulders. "Okay. You have me all to yourself now."

He studied his friend's features, trying to place together exactly which emotion Hizashi expressed at that exact moment. Worry? Anxiety? Hesitation? Why was it that he saw something else in there, too: an uncomfortably brazen determination? And Hiashi's words the other day…

"You have to understand something about my brother. He's gone his whole life feeling like he's been cheated and deprived of something he deserves."

How much of that rang true? "What's going on with you? You've been acting weird since we left Konoha."

Hizashi chewed on his bottom lip and hid his hands behind his back. Once or twice, he averted his gaze so he wouldn't have to look Fugaku in the eye. "Promise me you won't freak out."

"I'm not making any promises right now. If you did what I think you did…" Fugaku shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Please tell me you didn't fly solo and plant that camera for Tadashī. I know he was willing to pay." But what worried him most was Hizashi's silence. He did nothing to contradict his friend's suspicions. "Oh god. You didn't."

"I did," Hizashi confessed, permitting his fingers to fumble with one of Tadashī's interview tapes. "He's paying me an extra C-Rank's worth for my troubles once I get the footage back. I'm retrieving it tonight and Utaro's going to help me. He's the Inago guy we saw the other day. He got away from the guys in the coats. And…heh…you won't believe who he knows…"

Fugaku couldn't believe his own ears. Hizashi had always been the practical twin, not to mention the voice of reason for Team Buyo! Even when Fugaku did reckless and crazy shit, Hizashi was always there to reel him back in. He shoved Hizashi, watching him trip on a reel. The Hyūga boy caught himself before he hit the ground, but gave Fugaku a startled look. Fugaku had never pushed him before. Not even Hiashi had done that in years.

"Have you lost your mind, or are you just suicidal?! He wanted you to plant that thing inside a–"

Hizashi shuddered, but calmed himself down. "I made it in there and it was horrible. I saw a guy strapped to an operating table. Some of his organs were missing. I saw body parts in big sinks and blood…oh, god. Fugaku, there was so much blood…"

"Hizashi. That's not what I asked you. Why are you doing this?"

The Hyūga boy took a seat on the bed and patted the mattress so Fugaku could sit beside him. He caught a whiff of Hiashi's shampoo on a pillow and frowned. He wasn't sure what it was about the scent that pissed him off, but it did. For now, he'd pretend it wasn't there. If he focused on it, he'd become more upset than he already was. "I did it for my future. Our future."

Fugaku sat, staring at Hizashi as though he'd never seen him before. "I don't understand. When this is over, I'll be–"

"Be honest with me, Fugaku. Do you really want to be a police officer?" Hizashi asked, taking his friend's hands. "Because I know for a fact I never want to see another Hyūga again for as long as I live, Hiashi included. That's why I did it: because the Land of Smoke is the crossroads to everywhere.

"We could leave and start a new life anywhere we want. The trains in the central station go in all directions, all across the continent. In fact…" He held out two tickets. "I have a destination in mind. I've met the others headed for this place, and it's a place we've already been before, but–"

Fugaku slapped Hizashi's wrist before falling to his knees. Hizashi stared at him, stunned. The one-way passes to Koyamagakure hit the dusty floor. Their outer glossy coat caught the fluorescent lighting on the ceiling, reflecting it. "Fugaku…" He reached for his friend's hair, moving to stroke it out of his face. "Please."

"I can understand the temptation," Fugaku confessed. The tough guy face he tried so hard to maintain during this conversation had finally fallen apart. "And you're right; I don't want to join the KMPF. I don't want to leave the team. I don't want to follow in my mother's footsteps. I want to keep going on missions as a part of Team Buyo. Once I transfer, we won't see as much of each other as we used to, but…"

Fugaku shook his head, but continued. "What you're proposing is treason. Rogue ninjas get amnesty in the Land of Smoke, but you don't plan to stay here. The moment we leave the Hidden Smog, the Hokage has every right to send Search & Destroy squads after us: people like Buyo-sensei and my father." Uchiha Sarani had killed many deserters, even scared kids like the two of them. "I wouldn't even put it past the Third to intentionally assign my father the task. He's done S&D for years. We'd be on the run our whole lives–"

"But we'd be free, wouldn't we?!" Hizashi countered. He loomed in so close that all Fugaku could see was his upset face.

"Hizashi–"

"I'm either doing this with you or without you, but I'm going. I need to leave, but I'm scared to make the journey alone. You don't understand what it's like in my clan, Fugaku. I know you've always listened to me, but they're getting worse. Kenji even…" His whole body shuddered. "You told me before that I'm your best friend. If you really mean that, then how can you sit there and tell me to go home to a family that's inevitably going to kill me?"

And this was why he believed Fugaku would listen to him: the timing couldn't have been any more perfect. Today marked the third anniversary of a tragic day: the day Fugaku lost his previous best friend to his own recklessness. He hadn't sprung into action fast enough to save Senju Nawaki, but he could save Hyūga Hizashi.

He saw it in Fugaku's eyes, noting the sharingan was on. Three years, he'd held in his grief and tried to cope on his own. That sort of loss was a pain Hizashi didn't know. The only person in his life he'd lost was his Aunt Junko, but he barely remembered her.

This was a loss he didn't understand, but it clearly haunted Fugaku. Now he could see a second tomoe building in his friend's eyes. 'That's two now: twice that the mere thought of Nawaki made your sharingan stronger.' A familiar pang hit Hizashi's heart. It was breaking. "I never was your best friend, was I? This whole time, all you desired was someone to fill the hole Nawaki left behind when he died."

"That's not–"

"All I am to you is what my father wants me to be for Hiashi: a replacement, a stand-in, an alternate. You'll never love me the way you loved Nawaki. He's the genuine article." The tears fell freely, but Hizashi did what he could to stop them with his sleeve. "There's no way I can convince you to run away with me, is there?"

There was silence.

"Can I at least convince you to let me go? I'll never ask for anything again, but I'm begging you."

'Hizashiyou don't realize how tempted I am to abandon everything and leave with you. I thought about it so many times. I even dreamed about it. We'd venture off and set our own rules. We'd become heroes in distant lands and the top public enemies in others. But we'd have each other, and I'd hear joy in your voice again instead of this all-consuming melancholy I'm lost on how to break.'

But then Fugaku recalled more than only Hiashi's warning regarding his younger brother. Only a few weeks ago, he'd heard similar things from Mitsumi. She'd been lighthearted and cheeky about it, but the words rang in Fugaku's retrospective head like a warning sign.

"Tohru-kun tapped me for a mission this week. He said he'd tap you, too. We have a chance to take one more mission together as a team, you and I. Are you in?"

Mitsumi made her brown eyes as big and bright as she could: hoping she could convince Fugaku to join. "I know you want to spend all your time with your current team because you'll miss them, but it's only one mission. And you're one of the few people Koharu-sama trusts to work with her son. Please? It would mean–"

"One mission, I can manage. And it's not like Hizashi's my only friend."

Mitsumi squeezed back as her little smile turned into a full grin. "Everyone needs a vacation every now and then, right? I think you need one from Hizashi!"

And again, hadn't he heard such things from Tohru, too? Tohru: his oldest and longest-lasting friend whom he'd played with and confided in since their Academy days? Tohru, who never judged him harshly and seemed to light up every time Fugaku made time to hang out with him?

Why had they felt so much mirth having him around in that mission?

"What about lunch tomorrow?" Mitsumi asked, nudging Tohru. "I want to hear all about how you outsmarted the thief! Between that, the seals on the notebooks, and everything else? You'll have one heck of a story to tell!"

"Lunch sounds great! Fugaku, I know you probably have plans for tomorrow with Hizashi…"

When Fugaku turned around to look at Tohru, his friend was giving him a defeated smile. It was like he'd already decided Fugaku would be too busy to spend time with him and was bracing for the inevitable rejection. Just seeing him look so resigned made Fugaku feel like a shitty friend.

"You can invite him if you want. I don't know him that well, but–"

Fuck it. Hizashi could wait. He'd neglected his other friends for so long that they probably thought he didn't care about them anymore. That was hardly the case. Hizashi had needed him. It just took this long for Fugaku to realize Mitsumi and Tohru did, too.

He pulled Tohru and Mitsumi both into a hug and refused to let them go. "I'll make time for him later. Tomorrow is your day. I realized I've been pretty bad about keeping in touch with you guys. I don't want to do that to you anymore."

Hiashi even made remarks that Hizashi feared becoming "another Mitsumi or Tohru." He feared being left behind and forgotten: like a toy a child outgrows. "You're one of the most important people in my life, Hizashi. You are my best friend–"

"But? Go ahead. Say it."

"You aren't my only friend. I can't drop everything just for you. How would you feel if I left you behind and ran off somewhere with Tohru? Or Shinohara, for that matter?" They had tried to include Hizashi, but the Hyūga boy wanted little (if anything) to do with Fugaku's other friends.

"And what about my parents? They're almost fifty, Hizashi. I'm the last child they're ever going to have and they lost one already. If I left without a trace, it would destroy them. My whole clan–"

"But don't you hate them?" Hizashi asked. "Maybe not your parents, but your clan? Isn't your clan the reason you're being dragged into that position in the first place? It's because you're an Uchiha, Fugaku. It's because Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Setsuna–"

"I won't stop you if you try to leave," Fugaku interrupted. He felt too weak to stand and couldn't even bear to look his friend in the eye. "If you've made up your mind and you think this is your only shot at having the future you deserve, the future you're owed…I won't force you to return to Konoha."

It was a bitter goodbye and one that would always hurt his heart. He'd never stop worrying about Hizashi; fearing that either he'd end up in a hellhole like this, killed for his eyes, or eternally on the run from bounty hunters.

"But just as you're determined to go, I'm obligated to stay. Either we go back to Konoha together when our train makes it to the station, or we part ways on that day. Forever."

A weak knock touched the door. "Fugaku?" Hiashi called out. "Hizashi? We have a problem. I can't find Buyo-sensei."

Tadashī shook his head. His neck was so large and plump that it melted into his jaw, giving the illusion of having no neck at all. "He ain't here. What more do you expect me to tell you kids? I'm not in charge of where your sensei goes or what he does. Last I heard, he said he was looking for one of you."

Hiashi glared at his brother, suspecting the worst. He believed Buyo-sensei decided to search for Hizashi once he found out the younger twin malingered and ventured off in this dangerous dump all by himself. "I bet he's looking for you."

"That's plausible," Tadashī offered, "but he also asked me where he could get something to help with chest pain." He yawned, still waiting for his coffee machine to finish making the most important part of his breakfast. "If that's the case, he'll be back soon. The pharmacy's not that far from here. I'm not too worried about him."

Fugaku wanted to tell him he should be: that Buyo-sensei was the strongest ninja in the group and their superior. Without him there, the only people guarding Tadashī would be a pair of twins who hated each other and a frustrated older boy who was trying to navigate his way beyond all the Hyūga drama.

And yet all Shiri Tadashī did was check to see if the questionable-looking bacon he was attempting to pan-fry on his stove was anywhere near complete. He wasn't worried in the slightest. To him, this was just another day in the Hidden Smog.

"Tadashī-san," Hiashi called out, interrupting their patron's breakfast reverie. "How close are you to getting all the footage you need for your documentary? When we first agreed to take this mission, we went ahead and purchased round trip tickets back to Konoha–including one for you. Do you have everything?"

'He doesn't,' Fugaku realized, 'because he's waiting on Hizashi to get the hidden camera out of the black market clinic. He'll refuse to leave unless he has that footage.'

"I have almost everything," Tadashī confessed. "Just give me another 24 hours and I'm golden." He held up the sizzling plate of greasy food. "Want some?"

Fugaku didn't feel hungry. "I'm more concerned about our sensei, sir. How long ago did he leave?"

"Hell if I know. I was asleep," Tadashī grunted. "Some ninjas you guys are! You left me, your client, all by myself for part of the night! What am I even paying you for? I thought Konoha ninjas were some of the most dedicated people out there!" He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. "I thought wrong."

By 11:00 AM, no one in Tadashī's apartment believed Aburame Buyo would be back soon. "Something happened," Hiashi murmured as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He sat at the card table, listlessly staring at the half-empty bottle of pasteurized milk he'd sipped on for most of the morning. "He'd never leave for this long. Not intentionally."

"Are we thinking about the same Aburame Buyo?" Hizashi countered. "Because the Buyo-sensei I know flaked on us almost every other mission." He rested his brow on the card table and lightly pushed a plate of stale toast out of his way. "This is typical." But even he didn't sound so sure anymore.

Tadashī's kitchen clock (a smiling cartoon tabby cat with moving eyes and a swishing tail) ticked loudly, each second bringing a worse mental image to Fugaku's mind than the one before. He imagined Buyo being dragged off by the men in khaki or knifed in the hallway with gut wounds and an uncontrollable swarm.

'I may be holding a grudge, but that doesn't mean I want to see anything bad happen to Sensei. He's still one of my father's best friends. And whatever trouble he's run into…'

"Maybe we should leave the apartment and look together," Fugaku proposed. "It's too dangerous to go alone." He heard a faint grunt come from Hizashi.

An even more indignant grunt left Tadashī's nostrils. "No. That's out of the question. Didn't you hear me earlier when I said you guys sucked for leaving me alone once already? You're gonna do it again? I paid you!"

"You told us you were a ninja, too, Tadashī-san," Hiashi snapped. "So why don't you go with us to look for him?"

"I'm a genin, you little shit! You all outrank what I can do!" He sweated, staring worriedly at his door. He heard a large crowd outside. Instinctively, Tadashī lowered his voice. "He'll be fine," he whispered, words coming out like a sick prayer. "He'll be fine…"

The fat man nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door. "Hizashi-san," the voice called out. "Hizashi-san. I know you're in there."

Hiashi folded his arms and scowled at his brother. "How does this person know your name? What did you do?"

"I wasn't sick, genius," Hizashi growled as he made his way to the door. "I ran into someone I knew in the hall and they introduced me to more people." He didn't want to share anything else for fear of tipping off his sibling, but he did open the door. "What do you want, Utaro?"

"What's SHE doing here?!" Hiashi was so confused, considering Utaro wasn't alone. There, standing beside him, was Akane Chigusa. "I knew I smelled Akane pheromones earlier! I had no idea they were yours!" And he never wanted to smell that scent again. Their pheromones made him do questionable, unspeakable things to his brother. He assumed this, above all else, was the key reason Hizashi hated him and refused to come near him.

But Fugaku had his own speculations on why someone like Chigusa came to the Hidden Smog. As shocked as he was to see her, it made sense she'd appear in a place like this. "Things are getting worse in your village, aren't they?"

Chigusa took a seat in the kitchen. Last he'd seen her, she bundled up in a knee-length coat to keep warm in the biting cold of Koyamagakure. Today, she sported a gold tube top with an unbuttoned black floral over-shirt and the shortest pair of shorts he'd ever seen.

"I heard on the radio that Seidou of a Hundred Returns came back from the dead again and–"

"Indeed," Chigusa murmured. "She did. And now she's taken over everything. Our non-Akane villagers were all too happy to give her full command. They've erected a giant wall around our district and spray us with fire hoses every time we try to go into the general village. More non-Akane girls than ever are stepping forward, eager to join the sensō-onna. They're even abandoning their birth families to become one with Seidou."

Even girls Chigusa once called friends threw their lives away for porcelain masks because it came with all the perks of anonymous violence against a hated minority. It made them feel better about themselves, unforgivable as that was. In a place suffering from the greatest economic recession on the western side of the continent, people wanted anything that guaranteed stability. "And if anyone tries to leave without approval, they're killed. I'm lucky to be out of Koyamagakure…though it did cost me one of my brothers. I'm trying to make sure he didn't die in vain."

Hiashi sweated, his body reacting with muscle memory to the scent. He reached for a handkerchief, trying to cover his nose and mouth. "You're more potent than last time, Chigusa. I could smell you in the hall."

"I'm not any stronger than I was this past winter, Hiashi-san." Chigusa shook her head, hands remaining on the top of the chair. She straddled it with a bare leg to each side of the seat, facing backwards. "It's summertime and much hotter than it is in the Land of Moors. That and I hate bundling up. What you smell is my sweat."

But that wasn't all. He saw the true culprit wafting off her skin like steam. All the red in Chigusa's hair caught the fluorescent light, making the tawny-eyed girl more vibrant than before. "Utaro ran away from his home nation because his clan's being hunted for sport. I came here to find people like him."

'And Hizashi,' Fugaku suspected. He wouldn't mention the train tickets to Hiashi, but he could see on the younger twin's face that these were the people with whom he wished to start the next chapter in his life. "To what end, Chigusa? To help the Akane Clan make a stand against your village's new dictator? That's a steep price for freedom."

"That's up to the people who chose of their own volition to join us. Chigusa-san isn't forcing anyone. Besides," Utaro interrupted, "that's not why we're here. We came because I heard Hizashi-san's mentor on the eleventh floor…near Uzumaki Shigeru's operating theater."

Chigusa solemnly nodded her head. "When Utaro told me, I remembered Buyo-san. I told him I knew him and that it was only right that we tell you. We're even offering to help you find him–"

"That's great and all," an unwelcome voice barked up. Tadashī had been quiet this whole time, but he couldn't take it anymore. "But who's staying here to actually do their job and guard me?"

"I can do that, sir," Chigusa offered, getting out of the chair so she could bow. "I know I'm not one of the shinobi you hired, but their sensei is in grave danger."

"I live here, you little Akane tart," Tadashī grunted. "I know who Shigeru is. I'm aware."

"Then please give them a chance to save their sensei from a terrible fate. Utaro and I both can stay, if that will put your nerves at ease." When the carrot-haired man sighed and nodded his head in resignation, Chigusa gestured with her head for Team Buyo to band together and save the day…quickly. No one stayed alive for long once they entered Shigeru's lab.

But maybe they'd succeed.

'Hizashi…I was looking for Hizashi…'

Buyo felt hands across his body, hoisting him above the floor. The six boys doing that were all dressed the same: khaki trench coats and green armbands with the character for life embroidered in gold. Each of them wore the tell-tale expression of desperation and resignation.

They carried the Aburame like pallbearers until they strapped him to a surgical table. There were no sedatives, but that was alright. Most of Buyo's nerves were shot from years of being a botfly hive. The maggots released a toxin that left parts of his body perpetually numb. His heart ached, though. The palpitations refused to stop and the whole world seemed to spin.

"You're a remarkable specimen," the Uzumaki medic reassured him as he flipped on the radio. "I've never dissected an Aburame before, but the way your body has adapted to serve as a host for your insects is remarkable. Your body is a work of art."

"You're the first person to call it that," Buyo murmured, feeling his body grow weaker. "I'd have preferred to hear that kind of talk from a woman."

Shigeru guffawed, slapping Buyo's naked knee with a gloved hand. "You're funny, too! I like you, Aburame-san; but one of my boys let it slip that the pompous ass making the documentary downstairs hired Konoha ninjas. And I'm familiar with your village's clans. You're my hometown's closest ally, so…"

The medic soaked the gloves in astringent and waved them around to air-dry. "I knew what I had to do. Try not to take it personally." He wiped off a dirty scalpel with a blood-soaked dish towel and loomed over the restrained jōnin. "It's just that my life matters more than yours."

Did it, though? All Buyo saw was a piece of mutinous trash who felt powerful because he could boss around younger, more insecure trash. He turned his head to the left and saw the headless body of a teenage boy. 'Hizashi has that same black shirt. The complexion and build are right.'

And as Buyo glanced up, he saw further proof that Hyūga Hizashi had been here. A faint green light came from the ceiling and the Aburame's badly abused heart sank further. It broke.

'Is that you? Were you in here all along?' It wasn't dignified for a man to cry. Shinobi weren't even supposed to do it. As angry as he'd been, and for all the horrible things he'd thought about those children being selfish and petty…Buyo still loved them. He loved them both.

'No wonder I couldn't find you…' And if Hiashi had to go back to Konoha without his brother, Buyo wasn't sure how long he'd last. They may have hit a cold spell, but they were twins. Nobody in the world would ever have a closer bond than those two. 'Junko-sensei…I failed him.'

"Are you crying, Aburame-san?" Shigeru asked, reaching to pull Buyo's sunglasses off. "Right now, you're the center of my world. You have my undivided attention!"

The maggots gnawed: hungry and ready to strike. 'Not yet,' Buyo thought, wincing. 'Not yet.' But they were impatient and wanted everything immediately…just like the boy he'd attempted to save and failed.

"Their fourth birthday was a month ago." Junko chuckled when her student held out his bowl for seconds. She twisted her chopsticks into the soup and pulled more buckwheat noodles out for Buyo to eat. "And yet, somehow, they've already managed to destroy the coats I bought them!"

He could see why. Lord Taiyō's boys were rambunctious creatures: pelting each other with early February snowballs. One scampered about in white, blending in with his surroundings from the neck down. Only his dark hair and black mittens stood out. The other one looked like his negative with a black coat and white mittens.

"Everything white is technically Hiashi-sama's," Junko informed Buyo, "but they decided to trade mittens. Typical kids."

The black one tiptoed behind his twin, trying to be stealthy, and poured a hearty helping of snow down the back of his coat. The white one yelped in surprise and waved his arms around angrily, using all the nonsensical swear words children thought were the epitome of offensive. He then attempted to tackle his black-coated doppelganger and missed, hitting more snow instead.

"They seem like fun, Sensei."

Junko took another sip of hot tea. "They keep me busy; that's for sure! Buyo?" She grinned, tucking some of her thick bangs out of her face. "I can't thank you enough for visiting me. Iwao and Sarani are too busy with their own children to–ah. Hizashi!"

The little Hyūga in black tugged on the Aburame's long jacket. Buyo looked the child in the eyes, noting his features. Both children were so small that they resembled dolls. Those big, pearly eyes didn't help matters. Buyo blinked a few times, watching the boy smile at him. "Yes?"

"Hide me?" the boy whispered.

"You have to, Buyo," Junko teased, lightly ruffling her nephew's hair. She leaned in to rest her forehead to Hizashi's and nuzzled him until he giggled. "How can you say no to that face?"

He couldn't. The Aburame lifted the blanket to the kotatsu table and gestured for the little Hyūga to duck and enter. Hizashi scampered underneath, crawling on all fours as though he'd done it hundreds of times before.

His white-clad brother kept searching for him, trying to locate him in the field of white. "Oba-san!" Hiashi called out, a faint tone of frustration building in his voice. "Where's Hizashi?" Beneath the kotatsu, Buyo heard the faint sound of snickering as Hizashi leaned against his thigh.

Junko fought her temptation to laugh. "Gee…I don't know. Keep looking, Hiashi-sama. I'm sure you'll find him." And he did exactly that for several more minutes: calling for his younger twin like he would a missing pet.

"That's just cruel," but funny. Beneath those blankets, Buyo could feel a little body nuzzling up to his leg, making himself comfy, and dozed off in the warmth. "Little shit."

"You mean that affectionately, don't you?"

'I do.' Buyo's eyes turned hazy, losing their luster as Shigeru made deeper incisions. As his vision blurred, Buyo continued to see the faint green light. His brain, disoriented and tired, tried to tell him that had Hiashi also done this, there would be a blaring red light next to it.

'I know we've had many arguments. Every time we've talked recently, it's ended in a fight.'

He winced, realizing the nerves around his innards were still intact. As much abuse as his skin suffered with the botflies, incisions still hurt. Buyo's blood was a dark rust color and stickier than Shigeru was used to.

'I pushed you too far away. Didn't I, Hizashi?' If he closed his eyes, he could still remember that smiling little scamp, not even in Academy yet, begging to hide beneath the kotatsu. They were only games then, weren't they? There was no real danger.

'But somewhere along the way, "hide me" turned into "help me" and I pretended not to notice—even as you assured me your fears were real. I never showed it, but I loved you both. I loved the boys you were when I first met you and I wanted to see what kind of men you'd grow up to become.'

From within, long before Shigeru could even cut him open, Buyo's torso wriggled. 'I couldn't hide you this time, Hizashi. Where you are…where I'm about to go, too…'

This was the moment. Shigeru made another incision, wishing to cut the membrane near the lungs. It was his mistake. A swarm of botflies rushed from Aburame Buyo's body at full force: erupting from every possible hiding place. The sheer force ripped his chest apart, even breaking bones in the process.

This was death, but he knew it was coming from the moment he felt his heart seize. 'This time, I'll hide from you. I don't deserve to face you.'

The botflies followed their master's dying wish and went on the rampage as a disrupted, furious hive. Anything dead but organic, they gnawed through until only bone remained.

Shigeru frantically attempted to find something to cover himself, though all he found was a gore-soaked towel. The flies loved it. With no more dead things to chew other than their fallen master, the Aburame's millions of killer pets flew in wrath toward the living to avenge him and satiate their hunger for fresh flesh.

Shigeru's khaki-coated subordinates ran like mice startled by the sudden presence of a cat. They bumped into each other, especially after one unlucky bastard who decided to wear shorts that day tripped and fell. Buyo's flies went toward the boy's legs, skeletonizing them in less than a minute as he howled in anguish.

The others ran to the door, hoping to free themselves of this horror show, but Shigeru threw a few dirty syringes at them. One hit its target. Another lodged into the wooden door frame. "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!" he shouted. "DO YOU WANT THEM TO SPREAD?! YATEN!"

The blond boy looked up, legs trembling. At least, he thought, he still had his. "S-sir?"

Shigeru kept the filthy towel around himself, making sure no skin was visible save a slit for his furious eyes. He back-tracked, making his way into the bathroom. "I'm hitting the panic button and calling Takara! The lab's been compromised! Get one of the guys with a fire release to come in here and smoke the flies out! The rest of you? Move my shit! And you?"

Yaten's eyes were wide.

"You're going to fix this! Whoever this son of a bitch came with, bring them to me!"

"H-how, sir?"

"I DON'T CARE HOW! JUST DO IT!"

As the boys left—taking extra care not to let any of Buyo's swarm escape—Shigeru locked the bathroom door and curled into a ball, resting his back against the wall. "I'll kill them myself," he kept murmuring. "I don't care who or what they are. I'm gonna fucking kill them."