F.o.D. Deux: # 2-0-6-4 Addendum/ Agent Profile: "Bug"

Name: Aburame Shino

Blood Type: O+

Service Affiliation: Konoha Ninja Academy - Sendai Subsidiary; ROOT Domestic Support Unit "DSU"

ROOT ID: #88912

DoB: 1/23/1945

Height: 186.5 cm (6'1)

Weight: 74.3 kg (164 lbs)

History:

No one ever pays attention to him.

Had been like that for the majority of his life, and for a while, Shino believed there must've been something wrong with him. He never considered himself different, never thought he acted any way unnaturally with the other children. He'd done all his chores, ever was careful with his studies, became astute enough where he could name each individual within the colony by heart.

All one million, six hundred and thirty-seven thousand, two-hundred and ninety-two of them.

Each and every one of them had personalities, too.

Some people didn't believe him when he told them that - most of the time they simply wrote him off, as usual, and paid him no mind. But he was right; they did. Each ant - though part of a greater whole - exhibited quirks and emotions wholly different from the others that, if you paid close enough attention, one can make out. Oshaberi liked to spend more time among the flowers than most of his brothers and sisters; Kuroro was the most loyal - ever making she she tended to the queen's every whim; whereas, Sasu was more adventurous, always going further from the nest, and a fighter.

Really, it wasn't that hard; the Aburame's could see it, so why couldn't anyone else?

Shino tried to explain it to the other children of his age group, but they were more apt to squish the bugs instead of play with them. No matter how many times he told them they were harmless, they wouldn't bother anybody; didn't matter. "The only good bug is a dead bug,' is what they would say, having no qualms stepping all over the hills he'd just made.

He wanted to say how much this hurt him, ask why they were so willing - so careless - to ruin the lives of hundreds and thousands. Was it normal to think so little of things insignificantly smaller than they were? Is that what they were supposed to think?

"No," his father told him, walking through the moonlit gardens one deep and silent night. "That is nothing but the unfortunate causality of childhood. Willful ignorance. This will sprout questionable morals later in life. You will learn to avoid such sentiments, Shino. Tonight, I will show you."

They walked through the cold, damp forest grass, the stones lining the way through the compound, up toward the family temple overlooking the hills, the forests, and the valleys of the Aburame household. The cloud cover kept the world in the black throes of midnight, but Shino had walked these paths when he was little than this. Though there was little enough light to guide their way, all he needed was to feel the vibrations in the ground, listen to whimsies of the wind, hear what his wasps would tell him.

"Our family started off as bee-keepers to the Fujiwara. A humble beginning, but fruitful." His father tells him as they begin their climb. Shibi turns to his son, the sharp, small sunglasses ever balanced on his razor thin nose; father never took them off. Never. As all the rest of the adults in the clan. "Then came the Taira, who saw our worth. Then the Minamoto. Yet, in time we survived all our former masters. Why do you think that is, son?"

Shino's head was still heavy from sleep; a long day treating the hives, minding the webs, and tending his family's ant hills left him positively pooped. "Because we are strong."

"Does strength prove so much?" Shino stops abruptly when his father abruptly turns in his tracks. "The Fujiwara were strong; their family reigned for a long as any can remember. Along with the Taira, Minamoto, Uesugi, Oda, Masamune, Takeda, Ii; so on and so forth, this land has seen many a 'strong men' rise up. Only to fall, and be forgotten as all the rest. When your playmates kick over the ant hill, do the ants give up and go away? Or as you return the next day, you see the hill rebuilt?

Aburame Shibi was not a physically imposing man; honestly, compared to most, he looked downright impish. Slight of build, short - even at eight, Shino was almost as tall as him, yet oddly long-limbed. His hair puffed out in crazy ends, with his beard - if you could call it such - being done in a fine, neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. The image of a great warrior this man did not cut, even if the ancestral armor of their clan's forebear still adorned the inner tea room. Felt more of a mockery to the current male generation of Aburame, than a standard to live up to.

All of them, every single one, were waif-cut, unassuming, and completely average looking; even if they were the only ones in a room with you, you'd still have a hard time noticing them.

It was just who they were, what they are; for Shino he always figured this was how normal people were like.

Shibi leads them up the mountain, passing the stone honeycombs made by his ancestors. Some were still in use to this day, their denizens though long asleep, while others in the far back were long since abandoned; the colonies dying off soon as their caretaker was laid to rest. Shino saw where his own was. Located two rows back, and three off from the left side. It would be in his care from now, till the end of his days. Until the next one was built.

It was the Aburame way for as long as Shibi told it, for as long as Shino could remember, and probably went further still back to the beginnings of Japan.

Clearing the forest path, the looming arched entryway into the Temple was a arched vision cast in white, red, and black. Shibi had trod this place far too many times to feel any chills walking through here, but for Shino it ever left an indelible marks. Here were structures made to last the test of time; here was proud of where he came from, felt like he belonged when he'd walkie the shadows of his ancestors. These tori gates, weather beaten and cracked after three hundred years, still stand as testaments to the works of his family...

Or did they?

Shino never shirked the weight of his clan's position in the State Presidium; he knew where they stood and why, of whom favored them and and for what. There were no qualms of how they made of their lot in life; for he and his, it was all strictly business.

"Our ancestor Ōube-no-Ō fled his home in Suruga, fleeing persecution from an angry lord who cursed Ōube as a madman, a Kannagi of the 'wrong god'. Considered a danger to all, Ōube had a kill-on-site order placed upon his head. It forced him into hiding, and in secret, disguised himself so as he could continue preaching. Here in Sendai, where he made a new home."

His wasps buzz about his ears, tickling him with his wings; telling him to beware, be cautious, to not follow so close. Odd, he thinks. Enough to give him slight pause, but not enough to stem his barren, numbed feet from trudging onward. Mother told him not to listen to them, and to not be afraid. Your father is there with you, she reminded as Shibi called on him in the courtyard, and he would never let anything harm you.

Shino trusted that.

Because he could not expect otherwise.

Not with the compound surrounded by his father's closest advisors, and the many blackish-blue uniforms of Sapporo's ROOT security. At their head, lead Director Yakushiji Tenzen converses with a subordinated, talking fervently; his hard eyes and hard frown never leave Shino, though. He must be the reason why the wasps were so spooked.

"Many years after his exile, Ōube learned the old lord perished on some battlefield. Finding himself at once compelled, Ōube leaves his meager parish, the small family he made, and travels to the site of the battle. There, he found the man who tormented him so." The doors to the hall of offerings opens, the Heiden doors sliding across the cherry wood floor, letting go the sweet smell of incense and perfumes from within. Candles and paper lanterns abound, coating the shoji screens in an ephemeral glow. Dark robed kannushi bow to Shibi and Shino as they enter, the priests faces covered by the pointed hoods they all don.

"Staring at the face of this once proud, strong, lordly warrior, Ōube was suddenly overcome with shame; never possessing the courage to contend with the man in life, he instead opts to face him only in death. Looking down at the broken figure, he does not spit fire nor curse the man's name, does not desecrate his final rest in the mud. Rather he sits beside the body and prays."

The father and son walk past the entrance leading back into the open-aired inner sanctum of the ninja. The temple is courtyard surrounds a square of whitened gravel, and a a richly painted fence. The passageway leads down to the honden - the heart of the shrine complex. Where non but the priests and the Aburame clan head are permitted to see what's below. Shibi turns to his son, blindfolding him with a black cloth, before leading him along by his hand.

Step, after careful step, does Shino go down. Nothing but the thin hand of his father guiding him, and the soft sound of his voice.

His wasps flitter about his ears, telling him it wasn't safe, that they should leave; the fear palpable in their vibrations, in their flight patterns. Shino could feel them as they cast their chakra out in hesitant waves. But Shino didn't listen, instead only paying attention to his father. As the the chants of the priests rain down from the complex above, and the large gong in the bell tower sounds

"After that day, Ōube continued professing his faith, and built this temple. To honor the only god who ever listened to his prayers. For in the decaying face of his enemy did Ōube find his god. And tonight, so too shall you, Shino. You are going to meet that god."

He can feel the pin-pricks along his skin where the wasps sting him, hears the increased level of chittering before him. It grows closer, heavier, Shino feeling the pull of his father now paling to something else. He does not remove the blindfold, for that he explicitly is instructed not to do. Do not look, do not move suddenly; the god does not like sudden movements, Shibi tells him.

Shino's heart is racing, but his face betrays nothing; on the surface he is calm and resolute as if it were any other midnight stroll. Even if the presence before him he senses is big - VERY big; and chitters, clatters, and screeches with excited glee. Shibi tells him to stay calm, to kneel down; good advice, considering he's nearly floored by the overwhelming chakra pressing down on him.

The chelicerae are wetted down, bristling with dripping venom and saliva. Shino feels them brush against his face, his cheeks, tracing along his jaw with its pointed fangs. It was every's child's whim to want to scream aloud, to burst forth from this place, and get as far away as he possibly could. Yet, Shibi tells him no. Stay calm. Stay still. Pay your respect to Tokoyo-no-kami.

His wasps hide underneath his bed-shirt, too afraid to fight back, but also too loyal to flee. Shino, to his credit, fights the urge to react when he smells the acrid, caustic venom drop onto the floor, his knees, and his face as he feels a presence hover over him. Behind the blindfold Shino blinks furiously, fighting backs tears building at the corner of his eyes.

All he sees is black, and nothing else.

All he hears is the moving plates of a carapace beginning to shift, the soft hiss of a jaw beginning to open, and nothing else.

All he feels in an instant is a violent pulse of red pain. Quick, deep, and wholly overcoming. The fangs pierce past the black, and Shino is unsure if the hellish scream which follows is from him or something else.

Following soon after began his ROOT training.

Shino's time in the main ROOT directory, located at its headquarters in Hakodate, was a grueling and relentless experience. It pushed the limits of his young body and mind to the extreme, even in the aftermath of his recovery. The weight of the program bore down on him, its psychological toll altogether a different beast than his prior training in becoming a ninja.

Its isolation was perhaps the most daunting aspect of his new life. Shino had ever been a loner - either by choice, or because people naturally never paid him mind. He didn't know. But he'd grown accustomed to it, regardless. If he were in the midst of conversation, his responses would go unnoticed. People would quickly greet him, but soon forget he was even there. Walking up and down the clean hallways and well-manicured gardens of ROOT's offices, Shino felt the world bustling around him - he could feel he was a part of it, but also, simply just a passenger.

The fanfare he was received with when he first was introduced to his ROOT unit by none other than Yakushiji Tenzen himself quickly dissipated. Formal introductions were shared, but Shino kept having to remind his teammates who he was, where he came from, and that, yes, he was indeed one of the new inductees. It shut him down more profoundly than when he was in his elementary days, where it felt more of the same; the bright faces of his classmates, their laughter, the carefree joys of their childhoods on display. Where he simply got to see and watch.

He remembered all of their faces, but guarantee they wouldn't remember his.

Days were filled with long hours of lab work in sterile environments. Proctors scrutinized his every move, observing teh effects of the intense training on his body. They recorded data meticulously, sending it off for further study in Hokkaido where researchers would analyze his progress. Shino had always relied on his insects for protection and recovery; injuries and ailments never bothered him growing up. He hadn't even suffered so much as a hangnail before. But now he was subjected to a various array of stimuli designed to test the bond he shared with them.

The methods were harsh, dehumanizing...

Electro-shock therapy rattled him to his core, sending jolts of pain throughout his body, contorting his muscles and making him twitch with every burst. The "hot box" where he was exposed to extreme temperature fluctuations. Hours spent being submerged in freezing water, timing how long he could operate without air. Every experience was tailored to enhance the capabilities of his wasps. To make them better, more adaptable, capable of responding to different threats. The process was grueling, and thousands perished keeping him alive.

Shino felt the weight of each loss, but in them brought him closer to what his father impressed on the meaning of "strength".

Strength came in many forms, and not all of them seen. Silence could be a strength, to hold one's tongue despite the feelings and emotions raging inside you, around you. The ability to control, contain, and instill was a strength. To allow the world to pass you by, and become what technically, in essence, Shino already was: a vessel. Ōube must've felt the same looking at his rival's face. Despite the fact this man was "strong", he lay among the countless fallen. Whilst Ōube lived, and would thrive.

The man would never reap the rewards of glory, never be the first and foremost of a generation, but Ōube had carved himself a nice life where he might find peace. To foster growth, find solace in one's role amidst the hive, and pave the way for the next generation. Here is where his strength came from, and where the Aburame found solace as other families fell among the tides of time.

This lesson Shino learned and came to appreciate throughout his career as ROOT's top tracker. The ability to be unseen even in the midst of a crowd, among people you used to know, was a rare gift. One he put to good use as he found his way among his former classmates.

All around them they paid attention to everything else - the cold, the fog, the lack of supplies or weapons; the worry a ROOT agent could be watching without them even knowing. This made him nearly break smile; totally unseen, he'd plopped a seat right in the middle of the group. Right between Shinobi #012604 and Shinobi # 012625 Choji Akimichi was always one of the first ones to kick over the ant hills he'd made, and Ino Yamanaka always hated bugs.

But of all those he observed, shinobi #012606 - Uchiha Sasuke - ever kept Shino's attention.

Shino was advised to keep his distance lest Akeginu's fog not completely cover the area; the Sharingan struggled in the failing light, and Tenzen wanted to ensure a by-the-book takedown of this high priority target. Sasuke was the biggest threat of the group by far, and was told to all of Shino's comrades that he should be dealt with first and fast. The Nara was astute, but aloof; he will quickly tire of the ordeal and become disinterested. Junior Commissar Haruno is feisty, and will be allowed to carry if she manages past the first day - this will be a good gauge of her character, if she was good enough to join ROOT's ranks.

The rest, though, are forfeit.

"Do away with them however you see fit," Tenzen briefed Shino and the team. "But Uchiha is the primary target. Remember that."

Hundreds of black wasps wasps clung to the branches, hid behind leaves. Shino specifically ordered them to not be disturbed no matter how close the Konoha shinobi came; they would only attack until he gave the signal. It would be decisive, intended to sew confusion, and scatter the group to his compatriots laying in wait. Thoroughness was key here. Which is why Shino scoped the CCTV cameras overlooking the bunker entrance, the riverbed and the canopies; cutting off HQ's eyes was certainly going to cause panic.

Just Comrade-Director intended.

And it begins with a subtle flick of his wrist.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Commissar Haruno nods over to a blonde-haired comrade seated next to her. "Bunker can't be that deep."

"You know, it's not telepathy. I can't just have conversations in my mind or something" He responds.

"Still, how much longer is this going to take? Anything's better than staying out here. Everything is just giving me the creeps." She say to him, pouting.

The blonde shinobi rounds, saying she was more than welcome to see for herself what was inside the bunker is she was so impatient. Until, he stops. His brow furrows, and his face grows stern; looking up into the trees he sees something beginning to stir. And it wasn't just him, but the Uchiha as well. "What is it?" Sasuke asks, turning his head gently; perhaps an old wound, Shino noted. Something he should be aware of.

"No...?" The ninja questions, curiously looking above. Commissar Haruno asks, too, what's the matter. But he's silent, which was odd because the fellow had been talking the entire time Shino had been following them. Until he shouts for everyone to take cover. "Sakura-chan!" he yells, before the frenzy drifts down form the tree-tops. Erupting form their hiding places, a dark cloud of buzzing fury fills the air with a menacing hum. Commissar Haruno is pushed out of the way, as her friend takes the full brunt of the stingers meant for her.

"Naruto!" She calls, patting him down and casting off the wasps about him.

The reaction was immediate. Panic ripples through the group of shinobi as they register the sudden onslaught of insects. The swarm is like a living shadow come to life, darting towards their targets with a chaotic intensity. Ino screams as she is swarmed, and Choji frantically is swatting away at his face. Little help it does for him. Calmly, Shino stands. Unbothered, untouched; all while the ninja begin to panic around him.

All except for one.

"So you've finally noticed me," he calls to the ebony-haired boy, eyes red, and busy performing hand signs. "I was wondering if you sensed me before, but it appears not."

"Aburame aren't worth my acknowledgement." Sasuke says before taking in a large breath.

"Yes, but you are to us. Hijutsu: Mushitatsumaki," Shino directs his wasps turn towards Sasuke, furiously flying towards him like a small armada.

"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" A large plume of flame turns the tornado to ash, and dissipates the rest who retreat.

With the opening he's created, Sasuke dashes forward. His feet skip across the rocks, and he draws his blade. The wasps try to stymie his advance by stinging at him, yet all they do is fuel his anger. Shino is barely able to react as the gleaming edge meaning to bisect him slices through the air. He shifts his weight, and avoids the deadly arc. Instinctually, Shino knocks away the blade as he throws up a kick, the steel end of his boot clanging as it makes contact. Using the momentum, he shrugs Sasuke off, creating a small space to operate.

But Before Shino can launch a counter-attack of his own, a sudden prickling sensation coursed through him. A thousand voices cry out at once, telling him to "duck". He obeys, and feels the whoosh of the fuma shrunken whiz above his head; fishing the damned thing out of her kilt, Junior Commissar Haruno had thrown the weapon with expert precision. Sasuke catches it by the center ring, where attached were three small smoke pellets, fuses already lit.

"Now, Sasuke!" the blonde shouts, supported as he was by Haruno-san; a red sheen shown about his eyes, and a cold sweat began to form. Doubtless, the poison was already working through his body. As it did to many others who'd felt his wasps' sting.

Shino had hoped the dosage injected into his fellows would've affected the Uchiha, yet the boy looks unbothered as he twists his body. With a fluid motion, he realizes the shrunken which cuts a wide berth around Shino. The pop of the smoke pellets is heard, and soon the thick acrid smoke fills the with.

In an instant, visibility was reduced to zero; the smoke enveloped Shino's bugs, and they were no longer relaying concrete information towards him. Anything Shino got was a confused symphony of noises and buzzing. But one thing came through clear, though: the Uchiha was retreating. Using the smoke to his advantage, Sasuke slipped away. Along with the rest. Making Shino lose the advantage and the opportunity.

"Tch," he curses, knowing now he'd lost the element of surprise.

They'd be onto him now - Sasuke would make of that. Even if no on ever noticed him, with the Uchiha he knew there wouldn't necessarily be a second chance. At least, not toward his advantage. he looks down t the cleaved boot of his, the steel poking through where the blade ripped into his show, and nearly took off a toe. He shouldn't;t have been so careless, but unfortunately, the Uchiha was fast. Even with over five thousand guardian angels watching over him, that was a close call.

Shino would be careful next time. For there would be a next time. So long as he had a bell with a portion of the coordinate attached, they would come looking for him.

Not these two, though; Shino considers the poor unfortunate ones unlucky enough to get caught by his bugs. Sometimes the shock of a sting is worse than the actual pain itself. Shino would mark them down in his observations later, consider the happenings when these two woke up. But that would come later, for the fight was far from over.

"One more?" Shino mutters under his breath.

Bursting through the bunker doors, another figures emerges. Confused, angry, armed; and looking directly at Shino. He sees him, he notes, and never takes his focus off him. Thrilling, Shino thinks. That's a nice feeling, as he steadies himself for the next encounter. The scent of the smoke still lingers in the air, the fog is still working wonders against his wasps, but they are ready. They are strong, because they are survivors. And with a mission to uphold, their loyalty would not be called into question.

Shino will fulfill his roll here, mop-up any stragglers left behind, and proceed to disappear into the background. The heavy-hitters deeper in Aokigahara will take care of the rest. Thus, allowing them afterward to focus on the only priority here: Uchiha Sasuke, and the Curse Mark he bore.