Chapter Text
Early August, Greenhouse, outskirts of Konoha (Land of Fire)
The greenhouse was warm and bright, sunlight diffusing through the glass panels above and casting pale gold patterns across the rows of medicinal plants.
Misora moved through it with quiet care.
She had a basket hooked over her arm, already lined with a cloth to keep the leaves fresh. She crouched and stood in easy rhythm, inspecting stems, turning leaves between her fingers, discarding anything imperfect without hesitation. Shorts, a fitted shirt, hiking sandals, practical, unpretentious. Her black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, swaying gently as she hummed under her breath, completely absorbed in her work.
She took her time.
Not greedily. Not carelessly.
That alone would have been enough to mark her as different.
Shino stepped into the greenhouse without sound.
He froze.
Someone was already inside.
His hive reacted instantly.
Not in alarm but in awareness.
His gaze lifted before he could stop it, drawn first to her face as sunlight caught the edges of her hair, then to the way she moved, precise, economical, practiced. To her hands. To the careful way she inspected each leaf, even crouching low to check the undersides before selecting one. To the basket, still only lightly filled.
She hasn’t been here long, he noted automatically. Or she values quality over quantity.
The humming registered last.
Soft. Absentminded. Content.
She smells like plants.
The thought struck him so clearly he almost frowned.
His hive stirred again, curious now.
“…So cute,” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.
A kikaichū landed on a leaf just as Misora reached for it.
She paused.
The beetle crawled onto her fingers instead, circling her palm as if inspecting her in return.
“Oh?” she murmured, amused rather than startled.
The insect lifted off, drifting back toward Shino and disappearing into the folds of his coat.
Misora followed it with her eyes.
That was when she saw him.
They stared at each other.
Shino stood utterly still, tall and composed in his dark coat, visor catching the light faintly. He was very obviously looking at her—but not in a way she could immediately categorize.
Not leering. Not shy.
Focused.
Analytical.
Why is this man staring like he’s cataloging me? she thought.
And why is he wearing a coat in this heat? …And a visor? Interesting.
“I would not pick that leaf if I were you,” Shino said calmly.
Her brows lifted. “Oh?”
“That plant is infested with pests.”
She looked at the leaf again, then at the surrounding plants, realization dawning. “Ah. That explains it.” She pointed toward the far end of the small greenhouse. “Only those over there seemed… healthier.”
Shino moved without hesitation, inspecting the indicated plants. He knelt, fingers hovering just above the soil.
“These are safe,” he said after a moment. “But not for long.”
Misora’s shoulders slumped dramatically. “Oh no. I’m doomed.”
“You are not,” he replied evenly. “I can remove the pests. You may return in approximately one week to see if the plants have improved.”
Her eyes lit up. “How?”
He gestured toward the far corner of the greenhouse. “Please stay there while I handle it.”
She complied immediately, curious, not cautious, basket still in hand.
“Step on the crate,” he added.
She did, tilting her head. “What exactly are you about to do?”
Shino knelt, placing his palm against the soil.
Chakra pulsed outward.
A glowing, branching web spread beneath the ground, faint but unmistakable. The soil responded, alive with motion.
Insects emerged.
From stems. From beneath leaves. From tunnels unseen moments before.
Not chaotic. Not aggressive. Organized.
They gathered along the chakra lines in precise formations, rows upon rows like soldiers awaiting instruction.
Misora’s jaw dropped.
“What in the—”
“Disperse.”
At the single soft command, the insects scattered, flowing outward into the surrounding forest like a tide receding.
Silence fell again.
Then…
“Fuck, that’s so cool.”
She hopped off the crate without hesitation and walked straight up to him, eyes shining.
“Who are you?”
“Aburame Shino,” he said, standing and offering his hand.
Misora’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise.
“Oh! You are the Shinobi homeroom teacher! I’m Kuroiwa Misora!” she replied brightly. “I’ll be teaching this year too—Chemistry and Botany!”
She took his hand. The moment their hands met, his hive reacted.
A low hum stirred beneath his skin.
She felt it. Her fingers tightened, not in fear, but interest. She didn’t let go.
“Oh!” she said suddenly. “The other teachers mentioned this… your… beetles.”
“Are you afraid?” Shino asked, voice even, though something tight had settled in his chest.
“No.” She smiled, slow and thoughtful. “I’m interested.”
The word landed harder than it should have.
“I may want to study your anatomy,” she continued seriously. “I have so many questions. Honestly, I think I could write a dissertation about you.”
Heat flooded his face, sharp and unfamiliar.
“You… wish to study me,” he repeated, unsure whether to be alarmed or flustered.
She laughed softly, pleased, and squeezed his hand again, then lifted it, turning his palm up and gently tracing it with her thumbs.
“Do they emerge from your skin?” Misora said while looking closely into his palm.
His hive stirred wildly.
Focus, he told himself. Get it together.
He withdrew his hand with effort, straightening. “Would you like assistance selecting leaves from the remaining healthy plants?”
“Oh—yes, please,” she said, smiling brightly.
So cute, he thought again, helplessly.
They moved side by side toward the plants.
“Won’t the pests return?” she asked.
“They will,” he replied. “Which means I must determine what is attracting them.”
She glanced at him, curious, thoughtful.
“Then, please keep me updated,” she said simply. “I want to see what you find.”
And Shino realized, quietly, irrevocably, that this was not going to be a simple collaboration.
They left the farm together just as the afternoon sun began to soften, the air warm but no longer stifling.
Misora’s basket was now half full, neatly arranged leaves wrapped in cloth, labeled in her tidy handwriting. Shino carried a sealed container of soil samples and a smaller case holding a few live pests, carefully contained and dormant.
At the edge of the property, they thanked the farm owner, who bowed repeatedly.
Once they were alone on the dirt road leading back toward Konoha, Shino reached out without a word and took the basket from Misora’s hands.
“Oh—” she started.
“It is inefficient for you to carry it,” he said calmly. “You are already holding your notes.”
She blinked, then laughed. “Okay, Shino-sensei.”
He did not react to the title.
Not outwardly, anyway.
They walked side by side, the rhythm of their steps easy, unhurried. Cicadas buzzed faintly in the distance. Leaves rustled overhead.
“So,” Misora began, glancing at him sideways, “you’re a shinobi, right?”
“Yes.”
She smiled at the simplicity of the answer. “How long have you been teaching? Shino-sensei.”
“Seven years, as of this term,” he replied. “And you?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Seven years? Wow. You must be one of the best instructors at the Academy.”
He felt warmth creep up his neck.
“I am… adequate,” he said carefully.
She laughed. “That blush says otherwise.”
He adjusted his grip on the basket and said nothing.
“This is my first year teaching,” she continued, unbothered. “I’m still getting used to lesson plans and grading. Research is much easier—plants don’t complain.”
“They respond honestly,” Shino agreed. “If you know how to observe.”
She glanced at him, surprised. “Exactly!”
There was a brief, shared smile, small, but genuine.
After a moment, Shino spoke again. “You are not originally from Konoha.”
She hesitated.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I’m from Iwagakure. I arrived here about a month ago. Iruka-sensei offered me the position last year, actually… I just wasn’t ready then.”
“You taught in Iwa previously?”
Her fingers tightened around her notebook.
“Not… teaching,” she said carefully. “I’m a geologist. I worked in one of the larger mines.”
He nodded, listening without interruption.
“But about two years ago, I grew interested in plants,” she continued, more confidently now. “I traveled to the Land of Water to study botany and pharmacy. I realized I wanted to pursue this seriously—research, teaching, application. So when I finally accepted the Academy position, I thought… this was the right place.”
“I see,” Shino said.
There was no judgment in his tone. Only interest.
“You will find the forests here quite rich,” he added. “Many endemic species exist within the Land of Fire. Most have been catalogued by my clan, but there are still… overlooked properties.”
Her eyes lit up. “You mean secondary applications? Medicinal interactions? Soil symbiosis?”
“…Yes.”
She practically vibrated with excitement. “I knew it. Iwa has rocks—beautiful rocks—but plants are scarce. Here, everything feels alive.”
Shino smiled faintly.
He remembered Iwa’s terrain well. Harsh. Beautiful. Unforgiving.
They reached the gates after nearly half an hour of walking, neither of them having noticed the time pass.
As they turned toward the Academy path, Misora slowed.
“I should head to the Academy,” she said. “I need to prep these samples before they degrade.”
Of course, Shino thought. Unstoppable.
He inclined his head. “I also need to analyze mine.”
She paused, then brightened. “Oh! Will you be using the Konoha Laboratories?”
“…Possibly.”
She sighed dramatically. “I don’t have access yet. I think Hokage-sama is still deciding whether I’m a harmless scientist or a very obvious Iwa spy sent to steal Konoha’s secrets.”
“That seems… unlikely,” Shino said dryly.
She laughed. “Yes, please tell that to the Hokage.”
He hesitated.
“May I join you?” he asked. “I need to run initial tests as well.”
Her smile was immediate. “Perfect. I could use the company.”
They walked together toward the Academy.
Misora chatted easily about labeling protocols and preservation techniques, unaware that the man beside her belonged to a clan whose private laboratory surpassed the Academy’s facilities and Konoha Laboratories in both depth and precision.
Shino listened quietly, carrying her basket, his hive humming low and curious.
Interesting, he thought.
Very interesting.
He found himself looking forward to the work ahead, for reasons that had nothing to do with research alone.
Misora unlocked the laboratory with a practiced twist of her wrist and pushed the door open with her shoulder.
Lights flickered on one by one, illuminating long counters, shelves of labeled reagents, drying racks for herbs, and a faint scent of alcohol and crushed leaves that clung to the air. The space felt lived in, not sterile, but busy, like someone who was still in the middle of making it their own.
“There,” she said lightly, stepping inside. “I’m still organizing things here and there.”
There was another door fitted with a glass window. Inside the smaller room, were more instruments, a secondary worktable, and neatly arranged notebooks.
She gestured toward a smaller room off to the side,
“That’s my office,” she added, then laughed softly. “Well—office might be generous.”
Shino nodded once, taking it all in.
“Well, of course you already know this place,” Misora said, glancing back at him. “I forgot.”
He inclined his head slightly. “I have only been here twice.”
“Oh?” She blinked, then smiled. “Still—make yourself at home.”
She took the basket of leaves from his hands and immediately fell into motion, moving through the lab with easy familiarity, washing leaves, laying them out, jotting notes, humming faintly under her breath. Everything she did was efficient but gentle, like she was listening to the plants as much as handling them.
Shino, meanwhile, remained standing near the long central table.
Still.
Watching.
“…Don’t you have work to do too?” Misora asked without looking up, amusement threading her voice.
“Oh—umm. Yes.”
He moved quickly then, perhaps a bit too quickly, setting down his samples and beginning to sort through the available equipment. Halfway through, he paused.
Several things he needed weren’t there.
Of course, he thought. This lab is not equipped for my work.
He adapted, silently adjusting his plan, doing what he could here, knowing he’d finish the analysis later at home.
They worked across from each other, the lab gradually filling with the quiet sounds of glassware, scribbling pens, and the soft rustle of leaves.
“So,” Misora said suddenly, still focused on her task, “that’s what your clan does for a living?”
“Not really,” Shino replied evenly. “We may be Konoha’s pest control, but we offer our services freely to the farmers. It is… our duty.”
“For free?” She finally looked up, eyebrows raised.
“In return, the farmers offer crops. Rice. Vegetables. They insist,” he added, almost awkwardly. “They say it is the least they can do.”
“That’s…” She smiled, genuinely impressed. “That’s really nice.”
She returned to her work, then added casually, “But Aburame Honey is definitely not free. I bought a jar at the market recently.”
“…Yes,” he admitted. “That, and Aburame Ahimsa Silk, are income-generating. We export them too.”
“Hm.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Cool.”
There was a pause.
Then—
“Umm.” She hesitated. “About your beetles.”
He looked up immediately. “Yes?”
“Can you tell me more about them?”
“You are… truly interested?” he asked, disbelief slipping into his voice.
“Of course,” she said easily. “You’re body is fascinating.”
The word landed harder than it should have.
“And,” she continued, laughing softly now, cheeks pinking, “can you explain why this particular beetle is currently hiding… beneath my bra?”
Shino froze.
“…What?”
“It’s tickling,” she added, flustered but amused, glancing down. “...my nipple...”
Fuck. Shino thought.
The beetle, as if sensing his panic, lifted off immediately and darted back toward Shino, disappearing into his coat.
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “My apologies. I did not realize it had wandered. They sometimes… act independently.”
Misora looked at him, biting her lower lip, still blushing.
“It’s okay,” she said gently. “Maybe they’re just curious. Don’t you think?”
“…Yes,” Shino replied, still warm-faced. “Maybe.”
So cute, he thought helplessly.
They returned to their work, but the air had changed, charged, quieter. Shino found himself painfully aware of her presence: the way she leaned over the table, the soft concentration on her face, the faint plant-sweet scent that lingered around her.
He had to actively will his hive to stay with him.
Night crept in unnoticed until the lab windows reflected darkness back at them.
At the Academy gates, Misora stopped and turned to him.
“I should head home now,” she said. “Thank you for your company, Shino-sensei. I hope this won’t be the last time we work together. I really enjoyed it.”
“So did I,” he replied without hesitation. Then, quieter, “Will you be alright walking home alone?”
“Oh, yes,” she said lightly. “I still need to buy a few things in town.”
She hesitated. “Umm… see you around?”
“See you,” he said. “Take care, Misora-sensei.”
He watched her walk toward town, basket tucked against her side.
Only then did he notice.
A few beetles drifted after her.
“…Come back,” he murmured.
They obeyed instantly, returning to him.
Shino stood there for a long moment, heart steady but unfamiliar in its rhythm.
Great, he thought.
My beetles are drawn to her.
After a pause, he corrected himself.
If I am honest… their host is as well.