On weekends, Maki studied medicine, sealing techniques, and enchantments under Mito's guidance. On weekdays, she attended school. Her life was steady and uneventful.
At school, the lessons focused on the fundamentals of being a shinobi—strengthening the body, learning basic ninjutsu, and building a solid foundation. As students grew older, their abilities naturally improved little by little.
Naori, Hitomi, and Maki spent nearly every moment together, inseparable wherever they went. Over time, Maki got used to their constant presence. She thought of them like two convenient little accessories—handy to have around every day.
When the first winter since starting school arrived, the snow fell exactly as expected, blanketing the village in pure white. The winter festival made the streets come alive. Traveling merchants filled the roads with colorful stalls that tempted passersby to linger.
Naori had been saving her allowance for almost a year, and now she finally had a reason to spend it.
"Does it look good?" she asked.
She stood in front of Maki wearing a simple floral yukata, a small kitten mask perched on her head.
"Yeah," Maki replied.
"What about me?" Hitomi chimed in, her cheeks red from the cold. She wore an equally cute yukata and clutched a candied apple in one hand. Her pale eyes were as white and clear as the snow itself.
"Kawaii," Maki said flatly, without much emotion.
"What? Then who's cuter?" Naori asked, a hint of competitiveness in her voice.
Hitomi leaned forward, hopeful. She was confident she could win in looks.
Maki gave them both a cool glance. "I'm cuter."
"What kind of answer is that?!" Naori protested. "We've known you for so long, but we've never even seen your face!"
"That's exactly why," Maki said. "As long as I keep my mask on, everyone will imagine me as the cutest version possible. People's imagination will always be more flattering than reality."
"…That's cheating," Naori grumbled. She began wondering if she should start wearing a mask, too.
Hitomi nodded in agreement, already eyeing the bird-shaped masks sold at a nearby stall.
"Hmph, boring," Maki said, walking off.
The winter ended in joy and peace, the season closing under a sky lit with brilliant fireworks. The three of them watched together until the last spark faded into the darkness.
It would be nice if life could stay this way forever.
Under the night sky, they each made a wish.
"What did you wish for, Maki?" Naori asked.
"Secret."
"Then mine's a secret too."
"What about you, Hitomi?"
"…Secret."
That year—Konoha's fifteenth—passed quietly. But the Second Great Ninja War was already beginning to stir.
Death could come at any time.
Maki could smell it in the air. It wasn't a stench of despair or tragedy—just the simple, bitter scent of inevitability.
Zetsugan thought he might die that winter. Instead, he survived until spring, the most beautiful season of the year.
On a day filled with warm sunlight, when people could stroll outdoors or simply nap in the sun, he was gone.
By his wish, he wasn't buried in Konoha's Hero Cemetery. He chose the Aburame clan's ancient custom instead—an insect burial. Since ancient times, Aburame shinobi allowed their partner insects to consume their bodies, ensuring no enemy could recover information about the clan. Life and insects coexisted; in death, they departed together.
Few attended hid funeral—only members of the clan. No outsiders came.
The quiet was broken only by Yumi's sobs, raw and heart-wrenching. She lay near the last swarm of Zetsugan's insects, her grief so heavy she could have fainted.
Maki had seen such a scene before—when her father's body was returned from battle. All that came back was a bag of insect husks, a broken kunai, and a scratched forehead protector. That was all that remained of his life.
That was the fate of a shinobi.
And the fate of the Aburame.
"Say something, Maki," Kaigan said, his voice heavy with sorrow.
The gathered clan members turned to her. Despite her small stature, she stood tall and unshaken. She was the clan's future pillar—and everyone knew it.
"I have nothing to say," she answered.
"Like insects, whether under the sun or in the shadows, surviving in secrecy is our clan's way. Living is what matters most. And I will lead us to survive—through storms, through disasters. We will always stand on this earth, like insects."
As the swarm finished consuming the body, they lingered a moment before vanishing one by one. Without their master, they had no reason to live. Only empty shells remained.
"Disperse," Maki commanded.
At her words, the Aburame clan members turned and left in unison, not hesitating for a moment.
Maki stayed behind after the funeral, stepping forward to catch her mother before she collapsed.
"You still have me," she said softly. "Don't be too sad."
At those words, Yumi clung to her, sobbing into her chest.
Tears soaked through Maki's clothes.
"Old man Zetsugan wouldn't want to see you like this," Maki murmured, patting her mother's back.
Life after the funeral returned to its quiet routine. Maki buried herself in study, soaking up every scrap of knowledge Mito shared—whether it was medical techniques, sealing arts, or the Senju clan's closely guarded secrets. Mito didn't hold anything back, teaching all three of her students as if they were her own.
The days blurred together. Maki, Naori, and Hitomi were still inseparable.
Two years later, Kurozane passed away. Three years after that, Kaigan followed. Both funerals were led by Maki.
One in the heat of summer.
One in the bitter cold of winter.
The feelings each time were the same—no tears, just a deep, quiet ache.
By the sixth year, Maki had graduated from the academy and become a Konoha genin. After a stretch of D-rank missions, the trio began working at Konoha Hospital—starting with small chores, gradually learning and practicing healing techniques.
Four years passed like that.
When Tsunade heard about it, she barged in loudly, declaring she was done with endless missions outside the village. She joined them at the hospital instead.
Konoha, Year 25. Summer. The faint echoes of the Second Ninja War seemed to reach Maki's ears.
"It's about to begin," she said quietly, leaning on the third-floor railing of the hospital, watching the sunrise.
"Time really flies…" Naori, with her wavy black hair, smiled as she joined her. "Yeah. Everything goes by so fast."
"Where's Hitomi?" Maki asked.
"She was exhausted and fell asleep," Naori said, then tilted her head. "What's about to start?"
"Nothing," Maki replied with a faint shake of her head. Her eyes dropped to the courtyard, where a blonde girl with a ponytail was doing morning stretches.
"Oi! Big Head!" Maki called down.
Tsunade turned, scowling. "Do you wanna die, you damn insect girl?!"
"Tch…" Maki clicked her tongue. Tsunade was still only sixteen—a far cry from the legendary beauty she'd become.
When will you grow up…
"Don't provoke her!" Maki hissed. "She's scary enough as it is!" She glanced at the diamond-shaped seal on Tsunade's forehead. "Even though I've got one too…"
"I'm used to it," Maki said with a lazy wave.
"Summer's back again," she added with a smile.
"Get up here!" Maki shouted.
"Get down here, insect girl, and I'll beat you to death!" Tsunade roared back.
Naori couldn't hold it in anymore—she burst into laughter.
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