Vulture 1/2

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The eve of the Third Shinobi World War, Year 45 of Konoha.

The crisp autumn air was refreshing.

At the Ninja Academy's target range.

Aburame Jianxing leaned against a tree trunk, basking in the warm afternoon sun. His eyes beneath his sunglasses narrowed contentedly, his long lashes seeming to cradle streams of golden light.

It was so comfortable it made him want to: meow, meow, meow.

Beside Jianxing squatted a handsome black-haired boy with an indifferent expression, a grass stem between his lips and a roguish air about him. He was drawing earnestly on the ground with a twig.

Hyuga Ryosuke, a member of the Hyuga Branch Family and one of Jianxing's few friends, was known for his handsome face and his utterly unreliable soul.

"What are you drawing?" Jianxing asked curiously.

"Can't you see for yourself?"

"I did. I only asked because I couldn't understand it."

Ryosuke stared at the drawing on the ground and pondered for a moment. "Sorry, it's too abstract. I can't understand it either. It can be whatever you think it is."

That was just how unreliable he was!

"Becoming a ninja is such a waste of your artistic talent," Jianxing said sincerely.

"I think so too."

Ryosuke wholeheartedly agreed and laughed without a shred of shame. He tilted his head slightly, and with the sunlight falling across him from the side, it was like he had a level-ten beauty filter on, drawing a string of shrieks from his female fans.

"So handsome!"

"I'm dying! I'm dying... He looked over here!"

"Relax, he was looking at me. Get lost, ugly!"

"..."

Ryosuke put on a troubled look, though inwardly he was thrilled. Two words described him perfectly: secretly smug.

"Shallow." Jianxing sniffed disdainfully.

"Who? Me, or them?"

"Both."

"That's naked envy." Ryosuke looked