A/N: Yes, the epilogue. Thanks for bearing with this fiction; many thanks to those who reviewed especially Phyrric Lotus. Disclaimers apply. Reviews are still welcome.

"Of Buzzing and Chirping"

Months have passed; the temporal phenomena were tremendously splendid for all its worth – an alternate universe by which truth is alluded to fiction and it all comes around like the eternal return of living dangerously. Plots reveal themselves at the end of the day and they had nothing to do but scrape it off their history. Akatsuki has remained in the shadows for reasons known only to them, and the Sound Village has started to stealthily make their move, specifically the Sound Four, looking for Sasuke and all. Konoha has calmed perturbed notions and the shinobi's have withdrawn. Shikamaru's group has come back to the said village only to prepare to look for Sasuke... again.

At the outskirts of the borders of Konoha forests, there stood the main actor in these phenomena; Aburame Shino is a stoic, impassive of unnecessary phenomena – indicative of arguments and always cuts everything short. As he leisurely walked the shrubs with his father on a mission, he marveled at the contemplation of living; how Konoha would lose a future Anbu, how everyone would mourn at his death. Was he a friend to anyone at all he didn't know; but of course he knew there was someone who actually would.

"Shino, go traverse the north and I'd check up south; I'll meet you later."

"Yes father."

It was a dull mission considering its rank – C – but still it was his own illogical reasons to be here in the forests, looking for the enemy that tried stealing a scroll. The enemy isn't far as the said incident happened long minutes ago, and clearly enough Aburame Shino has few tricks of stealth on his sleeves. One way or another he'd catch the bastard, eliminate him and curtail the demographic amount of what others call bad ninjas.

Shino then walked through the starkness of the forest in time for twilight to overwhelm airstreams passing isolation; swift but gradual leaves scattered all over, feeling somewhat cold from solitude; following the direction his kikai bugs have told him. Amidst this mission is a secret toil reflected months back, of eyes of darkness and imperturbability in the heat of any battle. Old yet stout boughs of antiquated shrubs grazes against his footwear and he listened quietly, anonymous forces like it was actually someone.

Leaves dance as Uchiha Sasuke embraced the zenith with unflappable eyes; Sasuke knew all of this of course, and he smiled at his sight of Aburame Shino. In such stillness the scavenger himself Sasuke strolled quietly, Shino's riposte already predicted even in his dark monocle and pallid garment. Shino composed himself then. "Long time no see Shino."

"I have attached a female bug just before you left; it's almost odorless, and the only ones that can track it are the male species."

And Sasuke looked at the bug. "Just so you know, I'm not taking it off."

"I see..."

"Hnn."

"It's unnecessary of me to come here, Shino,"

"You have spoken my thoughts."

"Everything's all messed up I can't just expose myself. At least... not yet. I just came here to... uh, here," and the Uchiha genius threw a scroll towards Shino as the latter took it in easy touches on easy seconds. "It's January 23rd. Happy birthday, Aburame."

Silence passed by.

"Thank you," Shino spoke, looking at the forbidden Aburame scroll that was the point of all this phenomena; Sasuke smiled then, and more winds touched their existence like never before. "I'm going, Shino..."

"Yes,"

"I'll... keep your eyes open."

"You too." And the Uchiha genius swiveled his head just to peek at the other lad, transcendence and emotional liaison on spoken silences. With a span of a second, he was gone.

As he leisurely walked the terrains of Konoha's forest he considered the mission complete, tucking the gift at his back. Putting in the picture a big white lie to his father was all it took to abandon the whole of the Konoha forest, and begins his existence anew. Aburame Shino is a stoic, impassive of unnecessary phenomena; indicative of arguments and always cuts everything short. It is not because of insolence, but because emotional safety is straightforwardly earned with it. Of buzzing and chirping, the moment of moments.