October, Shino decided, was going to be a hard month.

His cousin Saya had come from the capital. Now she was scintillant, pink polish on her long nails, and her hair a sharp dark bob. She looked almost ethereal.

The city had done her good, Shino admitted, because now she demurely sipped tea and covered her mouth as she laughed when his aunts took the discussions up the wrong curve downhill marriage route.

She was the horror of his childhood. She had boogers showing up her nose and blabbered about having his babies. He remembered hiding in the barns in the company of cattle ticks, because her coming over to play didn't leave him much breathing room.

Now as adult, he still felt the same. Only it wasn't just Saya, but the whole household fawning over who to invite if ever, which restaurant to hold the wedding banquet if ever, which tailor someone knew to be the best—things he hadn't approved—everyone obliquely waiting for his grandma's approval.

"Can you imagine stopping breathing?" croaked his grandmother. "I used to say impossible, impossible. I couldn't even think how that works." She gave a soundless laugh. "But now I struggle just to keep my lungs working. You know that feeling? That when you stop doing, it's gonna end. You just know. Every thing's up to you, yet there's nothing heroic 'bout it."

"Woman, stop saying things like that," said Shino as he pushed a cup over her grey, thin mouth. At times, he wanted to cry while simply doing this. "You're just thirsty."

"How rude. Are you really family? Whose son are you anyway?"

"Some guy whose mother is so stubborn she won't drink even though she wants to live."

"Give me some of your zenzai then I might consider." Shino went to the kitchen, scooped red bean soup from the charred pot, and served it to his grandmother. "Nn-nnn," she nodded, savoring a spoonful around her toothless mouth. "The mochi. Where's the mochi?"

"You can't chew."

"Can too. You shouldn't underestimate me like this. It's not me who can't give zenzai to the one I intended it for."

Shino cleared his throat and toyed with the hem of his jacket sleeves. "So… how's the taste?"

"You ought to know I can't taste anymore, numbskull. Come on, just give it to her… If it's terrible, she'll tell you. At least she'll know you cooked her zenzai. Everyone in this house is pushing you and young Saya together—a good match, I think…"

The old woman's hazy eyes dared him to say the opposite. Shino sighed, pressing his temples. Uncontrollable, nosy people are one of his pet peeves and they just turned to be his whole family.

"You think differently though," she said. "So prove it,"

"Grandma… who am I?"

"I'm sleepy…" She immediately turned her head away and closed her eyes.

He was never fooled. He knew she was acting all along. But he couldn't bluntly ask why.

Maybe, in a way, she's trying to change. She wasn't the grandma who'd tell you to go out of your way to get what you want. It used to be always what she wanted; what she thought was right. No questions asked. Perhaps, in a way, she was making amends by acting demented rather than face the shame of recant.

Lately, though, Shino couldn't shrug off the feeling of this progression coming along too late.

Invites for dine out? Hinata declined every single one of them. (No, it wasn't just the four times he did. There was Sakura for a new barbecue place, and Tenten and Ino for cupcakes with flowers and what-not girls liked eating.) For whatever reason, Hinata became unceasingly busy.

He noticed every time Hinata turns her head to the wall clock; her quickened pace filing folders close to five in the afternoon as though she couldn't wait to be someplace else. He had dreadful suspicions, but his insects informed she went straight home.

A distant feeling pervaded their lunches together. His inability to stretch casual conversations left him with questions unasked after she leaves the table. A simple "any interesting reads as of late?" should do the trick—Kiba would've easily done it! But he was too antsy, busy shaking his knees. Then it was time for work again and he had lost the chance.

All the should-haves ganged up on him especially after work and sleep eluded him at night. So, he spent late nights boiling a pot of beans and pounding rice flour. He was too driven as he dictated himself—watch the temperature! Don't forget to taste!—desperate for perfection as if trying to make up for something horribly wrong with it.

That morning, he woke up past seven and didn't have time to make his bed or eat breakfast. He was a mess. Misplaced. Errors piling up on each other.

He had also forgotten to amend his field agents' monthly planned assignments. At the way his senior in the field stormed into his office and shouted at him after receiving a mission scroll from the Hokage's Office, Shino determined he wasn't in the position to apologize. The workplace wasn't a place for mistakes; he'd never tolerate it from himself. After all, he was the boss. This man and other field agents were waiting on every opportunity to nitpick at signs of his incompetencies, and he would never give them the pleasure.

"I wasn't informed Takahito senpai. You should have filed for leave—"

"I told you, CLEARLY, we're expecting this week!" The corners of the middle-aged man's bristly mouth bubbled, flecks spewing out as he spoke. "I told you in the face I shouldn't be assigned to Zone B0843! That was weeks ago! And I was there, out in the field doing all the dirty work; did I have time to follow up?!"

Shino grew weary, so nearly tempted to hurl the desk across the room. As if on cue, Hinata went inside and apologized, informing Shino he did approve Takahito's leave and showed him the document with his huge signature at the bottom—tired lines and thin ellipses, so done and over it.

"See that? What have you got to say, now, huh? Aburame," grumbled Takahito. "Better believe some people in the position just don't make the cut."

Shino clenched his fists, furtively grinding his teeth. Don't make the cut—it resonated with him in many ways than one; fueled that inner voice telling him he's not good enough. And he was sick of it.

Hinata apologized once again, took the blame upon herself, and tried to appease the livid man. From the window he saw Sasuke strode in, newly arrived. Hinata quickly excused herself and went up to Sasuke. And Shino's ire found new nexus.

He snapped.

But it wasn't a fiery sensation. He lilted with every beat of his heart, felt blood pump up to his brain. And he was suddenly very calm. Blood pressure low. How cold he was, how unfeeling.

What is an apology compared to more pressing matters at hand? He relaxed on his seat, his pointer finger lightly tapping on the arm rest.

"Nowadays we find our department always short on people. I apologize if I couldn't put anyone easily in your stead, senpai," said Shino. "You have always been among the most reliable delivering efficient results. Zone B0843 had suspicions of zetsu sightings. The Hokage had agreed on my decision to send you; he recognized your past efforts."

"The Hokage…" At this, Takahito's face was placate and Shino could discern his opinion of him took an abrupt shift to the sunny side. What he said, though, was a lie. He was easy to read, too easy.

"I'm sorry I couldn't hand over Zone B0843 to just anyone," Shino continued. "Be with your wife. I'll have Uchiha Sasuke take over for you."

"Really? But he just got back."

"I'm sure he won't mind," he said.

When he called Sasuke in, Hinata listened in on them. As Shino detailed Sasuke's mission to B0843, Hinata neared his desk. "S-Shino kun, Sasuke kun just got back. C-Can't he take a rest for a bit?"

"Rest? He proved to have went on until he could destroy the world. Uchiha here isn't like the rest of us, Hinata. Wouldn't you agree?" He stared at Sasuke.

Sasuke smirked, closed in on him, and met his line of sight.

Is he going to use the Sharingan? Control his mind like what he does to get to Hinata's good side? He better not blink, thought Shino, so Hinata will see for herself what Sasuke is truly up to.

"You're right," said Sasuke. "But really, if you have something against me, tell Kakashi and I'll be off your case." He grabbed the mission scroll off Shino's desk and set out.

Before she could follow after him, Shino caught Hinata's wrist. He was slightly feverish, he realized—he hadn't taken a bath—and briefly wondered if he smelled of pungent semiochemicals. He felt different at the moment though, as though he could glaze over these insecurities and let them fall at his feet. He was invincible.

"Are you busy tonight?" he said smoothly. "I can't seem to get done with work. Help me out."

Perhaps it was his directness and lightheaded confidence, but Hinata reluctantly agreed.

"I-I'm not really needed at home. It's alright," she said.

Soon, it was only the two of them left in the office. She had quietly washed his coffee mug, brewed him some and made toast with jam. His stomach growled as he munched on the toast.

"You're hungry. Let's call it a day. Nothing's urgent anyway." Hinata smiled before taking a sip of her coffee. She had a book on her lap, on herbs. "You don't need to be so pressured with these things, Shino kun. Take it easy sometimes."

"What are you reading up on?" he asked, wiping crumbs off his fingers and his desk. "Is there something for an old woman who's bored with barely tea? She hates water too. I don't know what she wants these days."

"As humans grow older, it's natural I suppose. To not feel as much as we used to. To not like the things we used to like. As long as she's hydrated, she'll be alright…"

"I see—"

"I'm looking up on remedies," she added in abrupt. Hinata had her gazed fixed on the book, gently touching a corner. "On lung diseases."

Shino pulled his bottom drawer and inside was his zenzai in a silver container which he had heated in the morning, wrapped with a checkered cloth. "Hey, wanna eat out? I also have stuff you might wanna try."

"Shino kun, why did you enter Sasuke on the ninja exchange program to Sand?"

He tensed reaching out to the soup container. Evening and it was still subtly warm. He smiled in spite of himself. "Oh, that?… Why not? He's highly qualified. Besides, it's all up to him if he accepts."

"That's… That's not what I mean. Shino kun… do you… Did you do it because you want him out?"

This hurt him bad, wrung his heart, passed it through the shredder. Instead of completely taking the container out, he pushed the drawer back in startling Hinata.

"Did he tell you that?! And you believed him?!" What about his opinion? His advices? When he cautioned her to stay away? They have fallen on deaf ears. "Why would you let yourself be influenced by someone like him?!"

"Shino kun wha—" Her mouth briefly hung agape. "Don't you want to get to know him? Beyond the prejudice—"

"Don't be naive!" Every part of him hotly burned. Unable to be at ease, he paced, the disturbed movements of the bugs adding to his irritation. "Did it ever occur to you—why are you suddenly on his side? So many times he fatally hurt Naruto! Right this moment, you could be under his control."

"How can you say that?" She could hardly believe him.

"I know he'll decline that exchange program because his plans are just beginning and it just so happened you're one of his pawns, Hinata. Because you're letting yourself be used."

"No…" said Hinata empathetically. "He accepted, Shino kun… And I feel so sad because I'm the only one feeling this way. But even that couldn't be validated. Because I could be just under his control and I shouldn't sympathize with him because he hurt Naruto. That it's wrong for me to act out of what I believe is good and right; my family used to make me feel this way. But I won't permit you, Shino kun. Because we're friends."

"Hinata…"

She hugged her book. "I'm sorry, I'm going home first."

After she left, the office became incredibly silent.

When he got home, he emptied the soup container and watched clumps of white mochi and red beans vanish into the drain. He blanked out on what to do next: wash the container, eat dinner, go to bed, feed his ants and various bugs; nothing seemed worth doing. He was angry and scared, his mind conjuring ugly scenarios: angry because he was wrong about Sasuke having plans; and God, he was more scared! Because it only meant one thing about Hinata. Was it hope, after all, that went down the drain?

Then again, who was it that called Kiba a coward?

At this Shino rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a sponge. He better get moving. Nothing will happen if he moped around. And he'll always be that nonexistent guy in the last row at class, wearing a coat like the exuviae insects shed at moulting to hide himself with.

On the day of the war's fourth anniversary—a holiday—Shino wore expensive clothes, checked his breath a few more times than necessary, and with zenzai and sunflowers in hand, headed to the Hyuuga compound.

Fireworks exploded at a distance. In the morning was a memorial service offered to those who died but the evening was a yearly grand celebration which attracted visitors from other regions. The energy coming from four corners of the village leveled up his nervousness and found himself tugging uncomfortably at his lapel every now and then.

He went out of his way to hitch up a crisp black trousers paired with a stiff suit jacket fresh from the clothier's and a bodysuit underneath like a diver's gear with head cover.

Does he look funny? Like a duck? He was never enamored with ducks. He wondered why some kids' toys are modeled after them. Why not rubber ducky roly-polies? Or better yet, arthropods so children are educated early of their benefits to the environment?

Shino's steps slowed. As if there for him to see, two strolling figures emerged like they had all the time in the world.

Is this fate's idea of a mockery?

Far ahead, Hinata and Sasuke stopped by the fork of the road, the tops of their head shined on by the moon. A cellophane dangled from Hinata's arm as she ate ice cream. The east side led to the Hyuuga compound. Far south was the cemetery, passing the direction of the Uchiha compound. She held the ice cream out to Sasuke. He stooped and took a bite.

There's nothing to it, there's nothing to it, Shino told himself. He and Hinata have shared far more things than ice cream. But the pain in Shino's chest swelled, drowning him.

Sasuke stayed and stood watch as Hinata ate at the cone. They took a few, lazy steps together before Hinata made a turn and Sasuke headed another direction. Though Sasuke didn't do this immediately, staring off the way she'd gone, waiting. Then coming up to her once again, he simply held her face and leaned in to kiss. When Sasuke parted from her, she shyly put a hand over her mouth, but she was smiling, her expression seeming to blossom.

Soon as they were gone, statued Shino hadn't even noticed his chakra ran amok, some of his kindaichu turning bigger in size, biting his skin and starved for more.

He screamed, the zenzai and flowers hurled away as he shrugged off his suit; but he couldn't get away. Nothing would come off of him. They were his parts eating him out.

For a host to kindaichu, nothing good comes out of giving in to intense emotions. He had to calm down no matter how hard. Shino rolled to the ground and on his back, began counting the stars.

When they couldn't sleep, Kiba would run this contest whoever falls asleep first while counting, loses. It was stupid. Thankfully, before he'd ever start, Hinata would tell stories about objects and made-up people (the heroes usually modeled after Naruto) using patterns formed by the stars.

Those patterns were always vague that they'd squint hard, squeezing moisture out of their eyes rather than interrupt her gentle voice to ask where.

School and the concept of heterogeneous teams used to terrify him. Twelve-year-old Hinata pestered him on his favorite color; none, he numbly answered. He told her tales of arthropodan horror surrounding the Aburame household so she'd keep her distance; she decided he liked moss green based on the color of his pants. She invaded his solitude and had him crossing his clammy fingers at every weird look trying to figure him out.

While Kiba struggled through their differences, Hinata's approach was cakes and baked cookies and good taijutsu. She was the first girl he liked being with; the prettiest, too.

In the dreary monotony of mission with death hanging above their heads, she smiled and cried and combed her long hair and collected flowers and put salves on their wounds. Out of a can of cold beans she could make a hearty dinner, and briefly they could pretend to be on a friendly camp out without weapons stashed on their holsters.

Past being milked of chakra twenty-four seven, sweating semiochemicals, and not truly seeing daylight, Shino Aburame with Hinata Hyuuga was someone other than utility. Not Konoha's asset or the Aburame's token to prestige. She was the spectrum of emotions he didn't know he had.

Hand over his heart, he knew he couldn't afford to lose her.

Dictated by his grief, Shino raced lickety-split to the Uchiha compound. The place was deserted save for one lit house like a beacon in the midst of rotten wood and the smell of rust and the overgrowth of weeds.

What did he expect to accomplish here?

Tell Sasuke to go away? He'll be gone by winter to Sand.

Stay away from Hinata specifically? Valid. Sasuke is a liability. He'll only ruin her.

Sasuke was sitting limply on his shabby corridor, feeding cats. They curled around him, rubbing portly bodies on his legs, purring for a touch which Sasuke surprisingly obliged, tickling their necks. Taking notice of Shino, they growled and hissed and ran to hide.

"Aburame," said Sasuke, not bothering to stand, "You look quite hostile."

Shino's insects loomed in a thick cloud behind him casting a huge shadow around Sasuke. "What are you planning to do with Hinata?" he said.

Sasuke was silent for a while, focused and short of breath for some reason which made weird whistling sounds as though something were wedged his throat. "I felt I could… trust her with myself, that's all."

"Hinata is not like other girls," reinforced Shino.

"I… agree." In trying to speak, Sasuke hacked and coughed some more.

Shino was disappointed. At Sasuke's answers, why did he feel chastised? The one on the receiving end. There was going to be a fight. His wrath would be justified.

"You won't find anyone like her anywhere," said Shino, and his voice had never sounded so defeated to himself. "She's… the only one…"

He couldn't finish. He saw a world quaked, of pieces falling apart. A terribly cold and hollow universe pressing up on him on every side.

Sasuke slumped against a post, smirked a bit and closed his eyes. He waved a hand, telling Shino to scram out his property. As Sasuke was reduced to fits of cough, Shino was certain he saw blood in Sasuke's hand.