Kiba holds Akamaru against his chest; his throat feels unbearably dry.
"Akamaru, boy; what's wrong?" He whispers.
Still, no response. The dog takes shallow breaths, his eyes following Kiba's movements. He rests limply against his master's chest.
Kiba grunts in frustration.
He knows what's happening, but he still can't bring himself to believe it. After everything they've been through; after every battle, every smear of blood, every tear, and every lost comrade…
… this is how it ends?
Kiba sniffs loudly.
Akamaru's breaths are getting slower and Kiba's heart feels like it might burst. He pats his companions' fur in an attempt to soothe him. Kiba doesn't understand what's wrong; Akamaru was fine a couple hours ago. The only thing he knows is that when he looked outside, he saw Akamaru unbelievably still, his head resting awkwardly against the floor. When he went out to check, Akamaru didn't respond. Now, he sits with his dog at the edge of the living room, his back resting against the wall.
Akamaru's eyes dilate and roll behind his head and Kiba feels sick, feels like running, but he swallows his sudden cowardice and clenches his jaw, willing himself to hold his friend tightly against him, to run his hands through his fur, and it's all he can do not to cry and wail like a baby.
Akamaru's body convulses, and suddenly he is heaving and retching, an ugly sound ripping through his throat. Kiba's hands are shaking and he knows that his best friend is in pain; that it's almost over.
That he's almost gone.
He doesn't know how long he stays like that, kneeling in the floor with Akamaru in his arms, but he knows that it seems like forever, that it's still not enough time. He keeps checking on Akamaru, counting his breaths and trying not to think of what will happen when he can no longer see the rise and fall of Akamaru's chest. Kiba's clutching Akamaru to him, reminiscing of their times together, his chin quivering and tears running down his face, slipping through the cracks of his lip, sliding down his chin and unto Akamaru's matted fur.
It's some time later, when he realizes that Akamaru's grown stiff and cold, that his heart seems to clench and unclench. He looks at Akamaru, and perhaps it is his brain being cruel, but he still thinks he can see him breathing.
Kiba stares at Akamaru for a long time, willing him to come back to life, to roll his eyes towards him, to sniff, to twitch, to breathe, anything, but nothing comes. His friend is dead.
And just like that, Kiba is crying, screaming, clutching Akamaru tighter against him, whispering promises of a new start, a new life, but Akamaru's still dead and he doesn't know what do.
Kiba looks out the open door and wonders if there is a God.
He's lived his whole life scorning the idea of God, and he now thinks bitterly, if there really is a God, he wouldn't kill dogs. Not when they love so fully and whole-heartedly.
He's almost afraid to pray, but in a moment of lucidity, he tells himself to stop being such a fucking coward, and prays, "God, if you really are real, please, bring back my friend. If you do so, I'll believe in you. I'll do anything. Just please, don't let Akamaru be dead".
But Akamaru's still cold and Kiba can't help but laugh at his foolishness, even if the laugh sounds somewhat broken.
Of course there is no response.
What kind of God would take away the life of a friend?
Kiba feels tired. He knows Akamaru is dead, but even so, he brings a blanket and wraps it around the both of them. Kiba's staring into Akamaru's open eyes, his hand kneading behind his favorite spot – behind his ears. He's so used to Akamaru's happy response, that when it fails to come, he almost breaks down again.
Kiba thinks, if just for tonight, if they could stay together a little longer, that it'd be fine. That'd it be okay.
So with that thought in mind, Kiba's shaking hands run through Akamaru's soft pelt and just for a moment, he lets himself forget the tragedy of today.
AN: This is for you, Nico. You were a great dog, and an even better friend. I love you. We'll miss you, baby.
