— Hey, it's not right to throw things in people's faces.
Ignoring Kizashi's mumbling and the mess of crumbs he was making as he stuffed his face with chips and tried to talk at the same time, Yashin turned his attention back to the pair of brats sitting on his couch.
— Alright, you two, stop entertaining my lazy father and get out of my house.
— Hey…
Instead of moving, Shino just looked away, and Chōji reached into his coat to pull out another bag of chips.
— So…
Noticing the pink-haired boy's increasingly cold tone, Shino hurried to explain himself before Yashin lost his patience completely and decided to attack them.
— We're already done with everything you gave us last time.
— Yeah. Plus, my dad said he wasn't going to waste money, so this time I can't come back empty-handed or he'll take my snacks away.
— Chōji. You didn't need to add that last part.
— Huh? Why?
With his patience at its limit, Yashin reached out to interrupt the pair of parasites sitting on his couch.
— Enough. For starters, I don't care if your old man takes your damn snacks away or not. And you…
Despite his always stoic and mysterious demeanor, even Chōji saw Shino's body shudder for a second.
— You've got some nerve coming here without having paid a thing.
— Ahem, ahem. Well, it's only been two weeks, and the things you asked for aren't easy to come by.
Not wanting to feel the pressure of the pink-haired boy's green eyes fixed on him any longer, the Aburame heir pulled out some papers and spread them out.
— But we've already ordered some machines. They haven't arrived yet, and you still have to choose the site, but even so…
Finally, Yashin's sullen expression softened.
Although the papers in Aburame's hands barely showed a couple of basic pieces of equipment, that was already much more than he had.
Although he still felt cheated by those bastards from the major clans, for the moment, those papers were better than nothing.
He could settle the score with them once he had those things in his hands.
— Forget it, bring the equipment here. I've got some space under the house.
— Wait, what?
This time it was Kizashi who raised his voice.
— What do you mean, space under the house? Since when…?
— Yeah, yeah. No need to make a scene. If you're so interested, you can go look for the entrance in the courtyard.
Yashin didn't bother explaining further.
It wasn't worth wasting words on a guy who didn't even notice a chunin digging right under his nose.
— All right, your business is settled, but the fat guy still owes me money.
— But I already paid the last one…
— That was just for a single day's fee.
— 100,000 ryō for one day?
Unlike Chōji's shock, Haruno's sardonic smile, or Kizashi's sparkling eyes, Shino simply let out a sigh that hovered between empathy and resignation.
At least I wasn't the only one who was going to get ripped off by that pink-haired.
— But you didn't teach me anything; you just told me to go review my clan's basics.
— Why should I teach you anything? The deal was just to make you less round. Besides, be grateful I'm only charging you that much when you dared to come here and waste my time. From now on, it'll cost you double.
His mouth half-open and half a potato dangling out of it, the Akimichi looked ridiculous.
Although Shino and his father had already warned him about how difficult it would be to deal with his teammate, they never told him anything about his shamelessness.
Seeing Chōji unable to utter a word, Yashin decided to take that as acceptance.
— Very well. Since I'm being generous, I'll let you bring the money next time.
— Y-Yashin, that amount—a kid shouldn't…
— Get lost.
Before the drooling Kizashi could say anything else, Yashin grabbed Chōji's bag of potatoes again and tossed it to his father.
— That's my money. Don't even think about getting a single coin.
— Don't say that. You know we've been short on cash lately, and your mother wanted to buy a new dress. Besides, why does a kid need that much money? You'd better be a good son and…
Although the head of the household already suspected his son was involved in shady dealings, he never imagined he was so competent.
Now he could understand where his clothes came from, and the gifts he used to give Mebuki and Sakura on their birthdays.
He was the only one who received coupons for ramen.
Seeing his father's increasingly pitiful expression, Yashin felt nothing but disgust.
— Whoever holds power holds wealth. Do I need a reason to seize the resources of those beneath me? If you want money, go take your brothers' inheritance. I'm sure they haven't squandered it all yet.
— Yashin, no…
Not wanting to hear any more, the pink-haired waved his arm, and a pair of insects fell onto Kizashi's already dirty face.
Before the man could react, the bugs sank their mandibles into his weathered skin.
Not to mention Chōji, even Shino's eyes seemed about to pop out when they saw the petrified man's complexion turn purple.
— Good. Finally, a little silence. Now…
With another flick of his sleeves, the insects returned to him and then flew toward Shino's lap.
The Aburame's slight start made Yashin chuckle softly.
Perhaps that was the first time a member of that clan had been frightened by the proximity of houseflies.
— Take those bugs, study them, and then modify them with your chakra.
Without pausing, Yashin pulled a thick scroll from his montsuki.
Chōji was amazed, wondering how many things he kept in there and if he could do the same for his snacks.
— I've already made some changes that should serve as a guide for you. The most important thing—and what those idiots in your clan should be most eager to know—is the reproduction rate. How many eggs they lay, how long it takes for them to hatch, and all that crap.
After making sure that was the right scroll, he tossed it toward the cautious Aburame, who was busy examining the strange flies crawling up his coat.
— Now, for the fat guy…
Yashin rummaged through his clothes again; however, in the end, his hands came up empty.
— Looks like I didn't prepare anything. Anyway, wait here. I'll go see what I have upstairs.
As if he had no time to waste, the pink-haired walked back toward the stairs.
With nothing else to do, Chōji approached the paralyzed Kizashi to retrieve his potatoes.
Although he felt uncomfortable being followed by the wide-open eyes of the unfortunate middle-aged man, his hunger was greater; so after achieving his goal, he immediately returned to his spot to indulge in a feast.
Shino, for his part, unable to fathom how on earth a couple of ordinary flies had suddenly developed such disproportionately large mandibles and wings, tucked the pair of bugs inside his coat before focusing on the scroll.
Even without fully unrolling the paper, the sheer amount of visible information was already making him feel dizzy.
Chōji, who was watching the Aburame's actions out of the corner of his eye, shuddered as well.
He wasn't so sure he wanted Yashin's help anymore; however, before he could think too much about it, the pink-haired reappeared with a new scroll in his hands.
— Here.
After tossing the scroll toward the chubby Chōji, Yashin walked toward the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
— Although at first I thought your clan's jutsu were ridiculous, I have to admit that the calorie control they developed is pretty interesting. Considering how much chakra you get from burning a kilocalorie, if they had a little more brains and control—not to mention those brutes from Kumogakure—even the Senju and Uzumaki would have to take a step back when it comes to endurance and brute strength.
Even though he was being praised, Chōji couldn't help but feel a certain unease.
Shino understood perfectly.
That flippant tone of the pink-haired youth was infuriating.
The praise tangled with the insult; but beyond that was the frivolous arrogance, as if he knew everything about their clans, when it was they who had taken it upon themselves to reveal only the bare minimum.
And the worst part was that the youngest of the Harunos wasn't a braggart.
— Anyway, first make sure you study that scroll thoroughly to test the limits of your abilities, before we focus on doing something with the meat you have left over.
Whether it was inducing gigantism through hormonal stimulation, increasing the capacity or number of his glycogen stores, or even creating a new organ, Yashin had countless ideas to fulfill the Akimichi's request—it all depended on how much he was willing to pay.
— Now, you should infuse your chakra into the scrolls.
Curious about the arbitrary order, both brats let their chakra flow.
Immediately, and to their surprise, the ink began to fade.
Consequently, Yashin's smile widened.
— It's just a small precaution so that no one but you can read the contents. Besides, it also has the slight advantage of helping you improve your chakra control. You should thank me for my consideration.
He explained no further.
Whether it was the fact that all the contents would vanish if anyone else used their chakra to snoop on them, or the various ways he had prepared for them to leak the information.
It was better to leave things a bit unclear.
At least this way, he could see if the brats were worth wasting his time on.
However, although he expected some reaction from both of them, their deeply furrowed brows as they clutched their scrolls left him baffled.
— What is it?
— It disappeared.
— Yeah, isn't that obvious? Infuse your chakra again and you'll be able to read it.
— We're doing that, but nothing's happening.
The Akimichi's perplexed and naive voice was testing the pink-haired boy's patience.
— It's okay, right? Why don't you try following the pre-established path? Maybe that way your own chakra could replace the ink that's now gone, don't you think?
The simple explanation made him feel a little more stupid.
— That's what I'm doing, but it's too hard. I can barely make out a couple of words.
The Aburame heir's energetic nod, in addition to wearing down his already thin patience, only served to increase Yashin's headache.
Not only did he have to deal with the unexpected visit of an overly optimistic fat guy and a gloomy guy on his day off, but now he also had to put up with their incompetence.
If only they were a couple of girls.
For a second, he thought of Sarada and Tenten rolling around on the ground, of his sister in her short shorts.
In the end, they were easier on the eyes, but they were just as useless.
— Tough, huh? I wonder what's so hard about channeling your chakra into a thin, continuous line less than two millimeters wide that's already been established. Wasn't I clear enough last time? Don't waste my time before you improve your chakra control and learn more about your own clans. Is that so hard to understand?
Both Chōji and Shino felt a chill run down their spines.
— B-but, I already learned how to walk on walls.
Before the Aburame could nod again—to agree with and back up the words of the fat man beside him—the icy glare Yashin shot him made him lower his head, as if he wanted to hide his entire face in the collar of his coat.
— Walk on walls? What are they? Damn civilians?
He couldn't believe it.
No.
Rather, it seemed ridiculous to him.
How could those possibly be the standards of a noble clan?
He'd already seen it in Kishimoto's work; however, he considered it one of the countless inconsistencies he'd encountered upon arriving in this world.
Similar to the fact that one only needs to know three jutsu to become a genin, or the true scale of this village and its population.
Having good control over one's own chakra should be essential in the pink-haired boy's mind, but it seemed that even by the standards of the noble clans, the fact that their heirs could climb walls at the age of six was already commendable.
It was hard to believe that such idiots had managed to form the strongest village of all.
So much so that it made him doubt the capabilities of the others.
With such standards, it was normal that the Fourth's Rasengan was so acclaimed, despite being such a simple trick.
Instead of wasting time arguing with the pair of disappointing brats, Yashin mobilized his chakra and made the glass of water he was holding adhere to the tip of his index finger.
Neither Shino nor Chōji understood what the pink-haired was trying to do, but when they saw him tilt his finger—and consequently, the glass—to a ninety-degree angle without the water even rippling, they couldn't help but widen their eyes.
When the water inside the glass began to swirl, they didn't even know what expression to make.
Ninety, one hundred eighty, two hundred forty, until it returned to the starting point.
Yashin looked at their stunned expressions, and instead of feeling proud, he felt repulsed.
What was the point of showing off in front of idiots?
Whether it was something as simple as what he'd just done, or more complicated things, like using his chakra to keep almost all of his clothes just five millimeters from his skin all day long, it would all seem the same to them.
It was better to keep them at a distance, at least until they became real people.
With that thought in mind, the pink-haired opened his mouth again, finally to kick them out of his house.
Unless they were going to give him money, he swore to himself that if they couldn't read the shit he'd given them and pull off the trick they were staring at with idiotic expressions, he wasn't going to speak to them anymore.