It took a full three days for Tetsumaru to emerge from his "seclusion."
Once he regained his mobility, his first order of business was to borrow several scrolls on the Kikaichu secret arts from the clan. Now that he officially hosted the insects, his clearance level had significantly increased, allowing him to take more advanced materials home for study.
Ten days later, the Kikaichu in his hive had reached maturity, meaning they could no longer record new chakra signatures. The clan's current round of inheritance was officially over. Out of the seventeen boys, twelve had succeeded—an exceptionally high success rate.
The boys who failed would get one more chance next year. If they failed again, they would have to drop the Aburame surname and try their luck at the Ninja Academy to become shinobi. After all, not every child born to the clan was cut out for the life of an insect-user.
Tetsumaru devoured the data on the Kikaichu, comparing the traditional curriculum with the personal notes of various clan ancestors. Combining the records with his own ten days of observation using Insight, he reached a grim conclusion: Nesting was biological sabotage.
When you think about it, it makes sense. Nesting involves creating massive internal trauma to "carve out" space for the hive. It destroys the body's natural balance to establish a new one capable of housing the insects. No matter how you looked at it, this "new balance" was inferior to a natural, healthy physique.
The damage of nesting was twofold. First, it drained potential: physical constitution dropped, chakra growth slowed, and physical development was stunted. Second, it created a massive vulnerability: the inner walls of the hive were far less resistant to toxins, bacteria, and viruses than human skin.
Of course, the clan's secret techniques had countermeasures. Starting from the moment one received the insects, the nesting process was divided into six stages, with one stage completed every two years to avoid crippling the host's development.
Furthermore, every Aburame ninja was required to breed specialized sub-species of Kikaichu that acted as "immune boosters" against known poisons and pathogens. Once a ninja mastered the twenty-nine basic branch sub-species, their resistance to disease and toxins actually surpassed that of a normal human. This was the foundation of the insect-user's legendary survivability.
However, all that breeding cost money. A lot of it. Attempting to strengthen all projects at once was a financial impossibility for an average family. Tetsumaru sighed. For now, he'd have to stay focused on his ants; they were his only hope for a "startup fund."
A few days later, construction finally began on the Third Hokage's face on the Hokage Rock. It was a sign that he had finally consolidated his power and had the breathing room to build his own monument.
Tetsumaru couldn't help but think, Holy crap. He had wondered why there were only two heads on the cliff for so long. It turned out the reign of the Third—the man who would eventually rule for over forty years—had such a rocky start.
It made sense, though. When the Fourth Hokage took office in the future, his main problem was the "Konoha Council" (the F4) breathing down his neck. But when the Third took over, there was an entire generation of "old fossil" ninjas still alive—hardened killers from the Warring States period.
These were ninjas who had witnessed the likes of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha—monsters who could literally redraw the map on a whim. To them, anyone else was a lightweight. In their eyes, even the Second Hokage was "barely adequate." To them, a true Hokage should be able to suppress an entire ninja army single-handedly.
"Senju Tobirama? Not bad, but not his brother." "Sarutobi Hiruzen? He's just a monkey with a power level of five." "He has to strain until his face is as red as a monkey's butt just to use a big move, and even then, he can't even level a mountain. Too weak. Honestly, he's barely stronger than I am."
The above was a drunken rant from Elder Shiki. At the time, Tetsumaru had listened with wide eyes. The math checks out, Elder. You and the Third are exactly the same—neither of you can knock down a mountain. Unfortunately, he didn't have a voice recorder, and the Elder flatly denied ever saying it the next day.
For the past few years, Hiruzen's situation had been a lot like Minato Namikaze's future: he was mostly a figurehead. Power struggles at the top rarely trickle down to the commoners in detail, but there are always symbols. In Konoha, the Hokage Rock was that symbol.
The carving of the Third's face meant that the splintering factions of Konoha were finally coming together. But power struggles never just "stop." A Hokage wouldn't stop at mere consolidation; they would inevitably move to suppress the interests of the various clans to strengthen the central government.
It was the nature of politics. Even if Sarutobi didn't want to do it, Danzō would be more than happy to push for it. From here on, Konoha would face round after round of internal friction until it reached its "peak" with the Uchiha Massacre years down the line.
Tetsumaru was glad the Aburame were staunch "Hokage Loyalists." They supported whoever held the hat, always stayed in the winner's camp, and never tried to force their way into the inner circle. It was incredibly stable.
While the Hokage and the civilian ninjas were rising, the clans should have been tucking in their tails and playing it safe. But not all clans were that self-aware. The most arrogant and oblivious, of course, were the Uchiha. Every individual in that clan was brilliant, but as a group, they were remarkably dense.
In terms of political IQ, the Uchiha were in the negatives. And the higher their "Eye Level," the worse it got. The most absurd was Itachi Uchiha, who thought the best way to handle a threat to the village was to kill his own entire family.
Good lord. Fine, kill the ones planning a coup, but the civilians? The babies? Though, half that blame belonged to Uchiha Fugaku. Taking a four-year-old to a battlefield was the ultimate way to break a child's moral compass.
The Uchiha were like "problem children." They didn't necessarily have bad intentions; they just didn't know how to read the room. They spent their time doing petty, annoying things that didn't do much damage but left a terrible aftertaste.
Tetsumaru stared at the seven Uchiha blocking his path and sighed. The "Red-Eye Clan" really was the protagonist of their own drama, wasn't it? The hostility between the Hokage line and the Uchiha—the seeds of the massacre twenty-six years from now—was being sown right here and now.
The cause of today's trouble was simple. Tetsumaru's "older brother," Aburame Shige, had beaten a classmate named Uchiha Tora (a boy who hadn't awakened his Sharingan yet) at school. In retaliation, Tora's older brother—a boy named Naoto who had awakened his Sharingan—had brought a bunch of his cousins to corner Shige and a group of Aburame kids.
Tetsumaru, who was carrying a bag of flour, listened as Shige and Naoto "negotiated." Naoto immediately started talking about "Uchiha Glory" and "Uchiha Face."
Alright, Tetsumaru thought. Enough talk. Time to fight.
He scanned the field. Naoto was the oldest at ten. Tora and Shige were nine. The rest were just "little radishes" who hadn't even started the Academy yet.
Excluding the three Academy students, the rest of the fight would come down to raw physicality. The problem was that the Uchiha had the numbers, and one of their "extras" was the nine-year-old Tora. His side was going to lose.
Tetsumaru wasn't stupid. If the clans were going to scrap, he had to make it count. He couldn't let his "King of the Kids" title go to waste—it was his best cover, after all.
Since they were just kids, they weren't supposed to use Kikaichu or chakra. Tetsumaru reached into his backpack, passed the flour, and pulled out a bag of seasonings. He found the salt. It was fine-grained and dry. This will work.
Just as Naoto and Shige lunged at each other, the rest of the kids followed suit.
Fighting in the street was against the rules, and they'd definitely be punished, but Shige had always looked out for him. It was only right to join the fray and get punished together. Tetsumaru tucked the salt bag into his pocket, adjusted the opening, and grabbed a handful.
The two older boys were locked in a stalemate. Uchiha Tora, feeling it was beneath him to double-team Shige, decided to talk trash to the younger Aburame instead.
Big mistake. The Aburame might look quiet, but they are world-class chatterboxes when provoked. The "Sunglasses Brigade" unleashed a torrent of verbal abuse that turned the Uchiha kids' faces bright red.
Beaten in a war of words, the Uchiha "radishes" lost their tempers and swung their fists.
These were clan kids who had started basic training, but in a chaotic brawl, all form went out the window. It was a mess of hair-pulling, shoving, and "Wild-Swing" punches. However, the presence of Uchiha Tora was a game-changer. Once he swallowed his pride and joined in, the Aburame kids started taking a beating.
But the Aburame were a tight-knit group. The Sunglasses Brigade held the line, trusting that their "King," Tetsumaru, wouldn't let the Uchiha get away with it.
Tetsumaru locked onto a target. With his left hand, he grabbed an Uchiha boy's wrist, yanking him off balance. With his right, he flicked his wrist, throwing a cloud of salt directly into the boy's face.
"Σ(x△x|||)"
Blinded, the boy panicked and opened his mouth to scream. In his past life, Tetsumaru had learned that people instinctively inhale before they scream. With practiced precision, he shoved the remaining salt in his palm right into the boy's open mouth.
The boy choked. He tried to cough, but the fine salt immediately sucked the moisture out of his eyes, nose, mouth, and throat. The sudden, intense dehydration caused a burning sensation that felt like fire.
The body's natural emergency response kicked in to stop the cough; his diaphragm and intercostal muscles spasmed and locked up to protect his airway.
In layman's terms: He caught a massive cramp in his chest.
The poor boy couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and was in agony from his eyes down to his lungs. He honestly thought he was dying. Tetsumaru finished him off with a punch to the gut and moved to the next victim.
One by one, the Uchiha fell. Even the nine-year-old Tora didn't escape a face full of white powder.
Aburame Kids: (⊙.⊙)(⊙.⊙)(⊙.⊙) Uchiha Kids: (:з」∠)(:qゝ∠)(:з」∠)
In less than thirty seconds, six Uchiha were on the ground, rolling in silence, covered in dust. Tears, snot, and saliva carved muddy trails through the dirt on their faces. They looked pathetic.
Even Shige and Naoto stopped fighting, frozen in their combat stances, staring in shock. Everyone watched as Tetsumaru calmly patted the salt off his hands, sealed the bag, tucked it back into his pack, and stood there quietly—the picture of a well-behaved child.
Naoto looked at Shige. Naoto: What the hell was that?Shige: I have no idea.
Eventually, as tears and snot diluted the salt, the burning faded. The Uchiha kids scrambled to their feet, huddling together like frightened quail behind Naoto, terrified to even look at the "quiet" boy.
Then, the Konoha Military Police Force arrived—or rather, they finally revealed themselves. Four adult Uchiha with glowing red eyes separated the groups. They gave their own kids a harsh lecture.
The brawl was over. The adult Uchiha, looking embarrassed and frustrated, led their kids away without even bothering with a parting threat. Shige led his "brothers" home.
The fallout of a mass brawl is, naturally, punishment. Tetsumaru didn't know what happened in the Uchiha households, but in the Aburame clan, Shige was put in solitary confinement. The other kids were either lectured or given extra homework.
And, of course, the "bamboo shoots fried with meat" were inevitable.
Tetsumaru took his thrashing, but he wasn't happy about it.
"Oh? You've got an attitude, do you?" Aburame Wafu said, waving a bamboo switch. "How many times have I told you? We are all comrades of the same village! Using such underhanded, cruel methods in a fight? It's disgraceful!"
"I was being merciful!" The stinging on his backside broke Tetsumaru's adult self-control. "Otherwise..."
"Oh? It sounds like our little Tetsumaru has more tricks up his sleeve?"
His mother, Aiko, asked the question with a terrifyingly sweet smile. Blinded by the pain in his butt, Tetsumaru fell right into the trap.
"If they weren't my 'comrades,' I wouldn't have used salt! That stuff is expensive!"
"My, my, how impressive. What other 'weapons' do you have?"
"Hmph, I always carry—Wait, Dad, what are you doing?"
Wafu grabbed Tetsumaru by the ankles and gave him a good shake. Clatter, thud, pop. A small mountain of items fell out of his clothes.
Well... I'm dead.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
"What is this?" Wafu opened a triangular paper packet, revealing white powder.
Tetsumaru, clutching his throbbing rear, answered honestly. "Quicklime."
"!!"
"It blinds them and gives them blisters in their mouths."
"..."
"And this?"
"Itching powder. Made from the hairs of Red Caterpillars. One touch and you're itching for days."
"And this?"
"Stinging powder."
"And this?"
"Don't touch that one, Dad!"
Pop.
"HUEGH—!!" x3
The scene shifted to the courtyard for a "Mixed Doubles" tag-team spanking.
"What. Is. This. FOULNESS?!" his parents demanded, plugging their noses.
"Stink-water..." he answered weakly.
"Where did you get it?"
"It's the fermented remains of red snapper guts... filtered."
"!!!???"
SMACK SMACK SMACK!
"Stop! Stop! It washes off with vinegar! I tested it, I promise!"
"GO WASH! NOW!" x2
That night, the sounds of wailing children echoed from many homes in both the Aburame and Uchiha districts.