Chapter Text
Hiruzen Sarutobi had spent the majority of his life embroiled in stress. Ruling over an entire village for decades had taken more years from him than the wars ever had, and he was sure that by the end of his life, they’d bury him with his work just to give him something to do in the Pure Lands.
All that was to say, he was no stranger to headaches. But as he stared down the girl in front of him, he felt one pressing at the corner of his eyes regardless.
Wrapped in dark heavy clothes seen in most Abarame, practically every inch of her skin was covered save for a small sliver of pale white peeking out from between her scarf and goggles. Also like the rest of her clan, her body language was stiff and practically impossible to read. Regardless, she practically radiated confusion.
“I’m not sure what the problem is, Hokage-sama.”
Hiruzen’s eye twitched at the careful inflection. He looked down at the mission report, and then the incident report right beside it. Both had been filed together, stapled and placed on his desk before this headache walked through his doors.
“I completed the mission objectives and eradicated the pests that were eating our food stores,” she continued. “Yet you seem displeased that I did so? May I ask why?”
The lack of sarcasm in her voice almost made this situation worse. She truly didn’t understand what she did wrong. Perhaps he had been a bit hasty in promoting her so quickly. Most Chunin could at least muster some form of common sense, but the girl in front of him seemed to be lacking.
He steepled his hands on his desk, looking directly at the yellow lenses of her goggles. “You were tasked with clearing an infestation, not to cause one yourself.”
“My hive will add to the structural integrity of the facility and minimize any more incursions from pests by consuming them before they can inhabit our food stores,” she replied.
“That is not your decision to make,” Hiruzen said in turn. “The food storage facility is under the purview of the Logistics and Supply division. You were contracted to eliminate the pests. You were not contracted to install a colony of kikaichu into the walls.”
“Forgive me, Hokage-sama, but I disagree. The contract stipulated the eradication of pests, not simply removing them. Eradication pertains to the complete disposal of the threat, including future threats that may spawn from its destruction. It is not a job that can be done in one day so my Kikaichu are maintaining a vigil against future incursions.”
“Hirari Aburame, I will be frank with you.” She straightened at her name, the heavy wooden box on her back moving with the motion. “Regardless of the written language of the contract, you took it upon yourself to fundamentally alter the structure of a village facility without authorization. That is the issue.”
“I see.” A pause, then, “I apologize for lying. I do not see.”
Hiruzen closed his eyes for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between them as he gathered himself.
“This is not the first time you’ve done something like this, Hirari.” He picked up a second folder from his desk, this one significantly thicker than the mission report. “Do I need to remind you about Training Ground Sixteen?”
“I have already explained my reasoning for Training Ground Sixteen.”
“Conservationists tell me its ecosystem will never recover.”
“It was for the greater good. The colony is thriving and in the event of a war, any enemies that try to attack from the western wall will find themselves quickly repelled.”
“And all it cost was fifteen square acres of perfectly usable forest,” Hiruzen commented dryly. He set the file down and stared at the girl seriously. “I need you to understand that while your intentions may be good, the village does not operate on good intentions. It operates on cooperation and understanding, things that you—” he gestured at the girl who tilted her head. “—are struggling with.”
“I understand cooperation. My colony—”
“With people, Hirari.”
“Oh.”
That was all she said.
Hiruzen rubbed his temples, “I am going to make this very simple for you. You are no longer permitted to establish hives in any village infrastructure or training grounds. Is that understood?”
“But—”
“Is that understood?”
“...Yes, Hokage-sama.”
“And you will stop asking genin if they would like a hive of their own. I know what you’re trying to do.”
Here, she seemed actually surprised, her face twitching with more genuine emotion than he’d seen from her yet. “Hokage-sama, a distributed surveillance network would be—”
“Unnecessary. The barrier division is more than capable of ensuring the village’s safety without the need for spying on every civilian. If you’d like to join them, I’ll personally recommend you. Otherwise, keep your kikaichu to yourself.”
“You are making my life extraordinarily difficult, Hokage-sama,” she said. “But very well. I will stop offering other Genin the chance to participate in the noble initiative of adding to my ever-increasing omniscience... That was a joke,” she added at his look.
“...Dismissed, Hirari.”
She bowed and then turned on her heel, striding out of his office with silent steps. Hiruzen watched her go, before leaning back and staring at the ceiling.
“They’re starting to get weird younger and younger. Sensei, give me strength before I have another Kakashi on my hands.”
The consciousness once designated Queen Administrator had come to a conclusion. The data she had accumulated alongside her previous Host, and experiencing this odd new Cycle had led her to the realization that…
Humans were strange.
It, or rather she, did not know how she originally came to inhabit this universe. The Warrior’s death had not been planned for in any simulation run by the Thinker. But then, the Thinker’s death was an anomaly in and of itself, wasn’t it?
It was a moot point. Her circumstances, as they were, were impossible to predict or path.
Hirari lifted an apple from a nearby cart as she passed, palming the fruit and biting into it once she was far enough away. Taste was a pleasure she hadn’t been afforded in her Shard form. It was one of the few things that made this new existence bearable.
Her connection to the greater network no longer existed. She suspected the network itself and the cycle it sustained no longer existed, but there was no way for her to be certain and wasting processing power on an outcome she couldn’t affect was the work of a lesser Shard.
Instead, she had focused on adapting to her current circumstances.
The body she inhabited had been born Aburame, a human sub-species who modified through years of evolution and codependency to form a symbiotic relationship with the insects that dwelled with them. The insects lived within them and fed off their chakra, and in return, served as weapons, sensors, and tools.
The arrangement was not entirely dissimilar to the relationship between Shard and Host. Perhaps that was why she had taken to it so readily.
A bit too readily, in fact. The humans had noticed her accelerated rate of understanding for the world around her when she began actively modifying and selectively breeding her colony precisely three months after she was born. The only reason she had taken so long to do so was because that was how long it took for her chakra network to mature enough for her to manipulate. That had garnered her notice.
Hirari paused mid-step, her body going rigid in the middle of the busy street. Civilians passed by her so I’m giving her strange looks, others ignoring her entirely. Slowly, she turned her head gazing above a small shop on the side of the road.
A moment passed before a muffled scream came from behind the shop’s hanging sign. A figure darted away almost faster than the eye could see, a pure white mask flashing in the daylight just before they were gone. Hirari watched them go as her kikaichu returned to her, drinking in the foreign chakra that they supplied.
She didn’t recognize this one. A quick sweep of the area revealed no more were hiding, or at least none she could detect. They only sent one?
It seems they’re learning. She lifted a finger, watching the fat insect sat upon it flutter it’s wings. A Hyuga this time.
Her colony would enjoy the treat. She allowed the ones who’d feasted on the chakra to rest and sent more out in their stead. Civilians on the street backed away as thin tendrils of buzzing black slipped from the folds of the box on her back, quickly dispersing into the air as she resumed her journey.
The Aburame compound was not so different from the colonies their clan maintained. A series of interconnected structures built around a central hub, with branching pathways that led to smaller, more specialized clusters of buildings. The main family resided closer to the center, the branch families radiating outward in roughly concentric rings.
The guards at the gate recognized her and let her through without comment. A few of the older Aburame nodded in her direction as she passed, acknowledging her and she returned them.
Her family’s home sat on the edge of the clan compound, near the forest. In other clans, it would be considered a shame to be positioned so far from the main compound, but access to the forest meant larger breeding grounds for their kikaichu and thus, was a highly-desired setting.
The door to her home slid open to reveal a bare foyer lit by lanterns on small tables. Hirari left her sandals in the genkan before stepping into the house proper.
“How did it go?” Her mother’s voice greeted her. She turned to find the woman lingering near the terrarium near the rear of the house, feeding the lizard held within.
“Unsatisfactory,” was all Hirari said.
“My condolences,” came the response, and that was the end of the conversation.
Dinner was served not long after. Hirari found herself sitting around a low table with both of her parents, consuming a simple but filling meal of rice, chicken, and vegetables glazed in a sauce that was both sweet and savory.
As they ate, their colonies mingled in the walls of their home, shading experiences and chakra between themselves. Her father had expended a large amount of chakra today so both Hirari and her mother moved to supplement for the sake of his colony.
Silence reigned over the room while an entire conversation was held between them, undetectable by any but their family. It was reminiscent of how Shard’s communicated. A comfortable comparison.
Ten minutes later, Hirari had eaten her portion, leaving nothing but a few stray grains of rice within the bowl. She put her chopsticks down across the edge of her bowl, indicating she was finished dining.
“The meal was filling, Mother. Thank you.”
Her mother’s lips twitched behind her collar, showcasing her joy. Her father stared at her from behind his goggles. “You’re leaving?”
“Colony Forty-Four is due to be assessed,” Hirari said, rising in one fluid motion. “The newest generation is exhibiting some interesting traits that I would like to catalogue before they pass them on to offspring. I will return before midnight.”
“Hm. Be sure to compare mutations to the baseline individuals.”
“Acknowledged.”
Deep in the bowels of an underground bunker, Danzo Shimura stared at the Root agent kneeling before him. Draped in stealth gear and wearing his assigned mask, the agent looked exactly like every other member of his extensively trained forces.
But underneath his bandages, Danzo’s repurposed sharingan told a different story. The man before him was almost completely out of chakra, housing only the bare minimum needed to survive.
“How could you let a mere child do this to you?” He asked, his voice dark with displeasure. The masked man’s head dipped lower, showing his shame.
“I did not notice her kikaichu until it was too late. It is my failure, Danzo-sama.”
Danzo’s grip on his cane tightened imperceptibly. “How is that possible? A swarm of kikaichu large enough to completely drain your chakra would be impossible to hide from the byakugan. Did we fail in your training, or are you simply that inept at fufilling your duties to this village?”
The man seemed to hesitate. “... I'm afraid you don't understand, Danzo-sama. There was no swarm. There were only a few kikaichu. A handful at most.”
“...”
“...”
“What?”