"Cthulhu? What's that?" Hayate repeated, his head tilted in confusion.
Guy shrugged, his bushy eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not entirely sure. Motoki's voice was so distorted, I could barely make it out."
The others sat in silence, nibbling on their dumplings as they tried to process the strange conversation. The sweet flavors usually brought them comfort, but today they did little to ease their growing unease.
Hayate suddenly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay and speculate about it, I should probably head back and get some training in. Thanks for the treat, senpai."
Guy waved him off. "No problem. You earned it. Just don't go pushing yourself too hard, yeah?"
Kagami hopped to his feet, bowing deeply to the older shinobis, before following his brother out of the shop. "It was very nice to meet you all. Thank you for the food and the, uh, interesting conversation."
As the brothers made their way out of the shop, Kurenai couldn't help but smile. "Hayate's lucky to have such a polite little brother. Reminds me a bit of you, Asuma, before you discovered cigarettes and sarcasm."
Asuma snorted, flicking a dumpling crumb at her. "You're one to talk."
Once the Gekko siblings were out of earshot, the mood at the table turned serious once more.
"So," Asuma said, leaning forward, "who do you think has the power to reduce a grown man to a gibbering mess like that? It's gotta be a ninja, right?"
Guy frowned, recalling the disturbing scene he'd witnessed at the village gates. "I'm not so sure. What I saw... it didn't seem like something any ordinary ninja could do."
"Who else could wield such terrifying power?" Asuma countered.
Kurenai tapped her chin thoughtfully, her red eyes narrowing. "It could be a genjutsu. An incredibly powerful, long-range one. But even then, I've never heard of an illusion that could cause physical manifestations like those bugs."
As the group's resident genjutsu expert, Kurenai's words carried weight. If she believed it to be an exceptionally strong illusion, then it must be so.
"But if it is a genjutsu," Kurenai continued, "there's only one clan I know of that could pull off something like this."
Guy and Asuma exchanged a knowing look. They didn't need Kurenai to say the name aloud.
The relations between the village and the Uchiha had been strained since the Nine-Tails Attack the previous year.
In an effort to prevent further deterioration, the Third Hokage had ordered all Konoha shinobis to avoid discussing it and refrain from any actions that might escalate tensions.
But these measures were merely a temporary solution. The growing distrust between the village and the Uchihas was an undeniable reality.
Asuma rose to his feet, placing a comforting hand on Kurenai's shoulder. "Hey, whatever's going on, I've got your back. We all do. Right, Guy?"
A blush crept up Kurenai's cheeks at Asuma's bold declaration, but a warm joy blossomed in her heart.
Guy nodded, his trademark grin returning. "Absolutely! The power of youth will prevail against any foe, be they man or beast!"
Just then, a flicker of movement caught Guy's eye. He turned to see a group of Anbu operatives leaping across the rooftops
Though their faces were hidden behind masks, Guy instantly recognized the silver hair that belonged to their leader.
"Kakashi..." Guy murmured, his smile fading. "Looks like something big's going down."
----------
The midnight moon cast its glow over the Gekko dojo, where Hayate practiced his sword swings with intense focus.
"998... 999... 1000."
After finishing his swings, he sheathed his sword and grabbed a towel to mop the sweat from his brow.
It had been over seven months since his parents fell in battle against the Nine-Tails, leaving him the dojo's legacy. As the eldest son, he felt the burden of carrying on the family tradition, no matter how heavy it seemed.
The Gekko dojo was famous for teaching the Konoha-style kenjutsu, a technique developed by the Second Hokage himself. Though it was now considered a secret art of the Gekko family, any Konoha shinobi could learn it - for a price.
But after the Nine-Tails Attack, many began to question the effectiveness of the sword style. Hayate's own parents had fallen to the beast before their blades could even scratch its hide.
What good was a sword against a demon of pure chakra?
As a result, enrollment at the dojo had plummeted. Now, only a single student remained.
But Hayate refused to let the art die. As long as there was even one soul willing to learn, he would teach, even if that student was barely a year his junior.
With his nightly training complete, he made his way to Kagami's room. He eased the door open, and was met with the sight of his brother's back, illuminated by the gentle moonlight.
Relief washed over him at the steady rise and fall of his brother chest. The memory of his brother's month-long battle with a mysterious illness still haunted him.
The doctors had been unsure if Kagami would survive, leaving his fate in the hands of his own will to live.
Hayate had spent every waking moment at his brother's bedside, praying to any god that would listen.
And when Kagami finally awoke, it was as if he'd been reborn. Gone was the carefree child he had known, replaced by a more somber, mature version of himself.
Though he still had his moments of childlike innocence, Hayate couldn't shake the feeling that it was an act put on for his benefit.
He knew it was more than just the illness that had changed his brother. The loss of their parents had forced Kagami to grow up far too quickly.
As he turned to leave, his gaze fell upon the large glass terrarium that sat on Kagami's desk. After his brother recovered, he went to the Aburame clan and spent his entire life savings on this peculiar purchase.
But it wasn't the terrarium itself that gave him pause. It was the creature that resided within. Hayate suppressed a shudder. He'd never been fond of spiders, but this one... there was something deeply unsettling about it.
Inside the glass terrarium, a palm-sized black spider was hard at work, weaving a web that stretched from corner to corner.
Under the moon's glow, Hayate could make out the creature's details. Its dark form was covered in fine, silvery hairs. The spider's limbs, while structurally similar to its smaller kin, were grotesquely oversized.
But it was the face that truly sent shivers down his spine. Set into the spider's bulbous abdomen was a disturbingly human visage, its features twisted into an unreadable expression – anger, confusion, or perhaps even sadness?
As if sensing his gaze, the spider suddenly shifted, its joints cracking as it turned to face him head-on. Its unblinking eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.
His mind went blank as he stared into the spider's eyes. It took every ounce of willpower to tear his gaze away from its intelligent, unblinking stare.
He'd made the mistake of meeting that gaze once before, and the memory still haunted him. The sensation of having his consciousness being drawn into some dark abyss, was a nightmare he couldn't shake.
Only Kagami's timely return had snapped him out of that trance-like state, but even that brief moment had left him drenched in cold sweat.
It wasn't that Hayate was afraid of spiders. But this creature was different.
A monster, plain and simple. That was the only way he could define this spider. Any attempt to understand or rationalize its existence was beyond him.
And it wasn't just the spider that unnerved him. Kagami, too, had begun to exhibit some unsettling behavior. Hayate had caught him conversing with the arachnid on more than one occasion.
Not the simple exchange of information that the Aburame clan engaged in with their insect familiars, but a complex, almost human-like dialogue.
The tiny minds of ordinary spiders were incapable of such communication. Yet he seemed to be getting answers, real answers, from his grotesque pet. The implications were too disturbing to contemplate.
When Kagami realized Hayate was watching, he'd stopped having these one-sided conversations in his presence. But the damage was done.
Hayate could not accept this abomination as a simple pet.
Other children in the village kept cats, dogs, perhaps a mischievous monkey or brightly plumed bird.
The Aburame, of course, bonded with their kikaichu from birth. But a human-faced spider? What purpose could such a monstrosity serve, beyond inducing nightmares and terrorizing the villagers?
Still, he couldn't bring himself to deprive Kagami of his only companion. The boy had already lost so much - his parents, his innocence, nearly his life.
If this creature, unsettling as it was, could provide some measure of comfort, who was he to take that away?
Even if it meant living with the constant fear, the uncontrollable tremors that wracked his body whenever he laid eyes upon it.
He tore his gaze away, sliding the door shut with a soft click. Whatever his brother's reasons for keeping such a monstrosity, he trusted him.
In a world filled with ninjas who possessed strange quirks and abilities, who was he to judge?
He only hoped that, when the time came, he would have the strength to face whatever horrors it might bring. For Kagami's sake, if not his own.