Author's Comment:
I couldn't stop thinking of this after I read 437.
I think Hinata is a goddamn idiot for doing what she did.
Needlessly sacrificing herself for someone on the off-chance she might live and the off-chance he might love her back.
She didn't give a second thought to those that already loved and deeply cared for her.
This is my interpretation of how Kiba would handle the loss because bless his soul, I think he'd take it the hardest.
He's always been there for her, by her side. Always watching her and giving her continuous support, friendship, and encouragement.
And all he ever got in return was watching Hinata chase after Naruto.
Hinata is a fool for not seeing what's been right in front of her this whole time.
(and I don't care that she's alive now. This hit me back in that chapter when I though she was dead)
Far Away, Someone Sings
They decided to bury Hinata underneath an oak tree.
Something about 'becoming a part of the earth' and 'living forever', but Kiba had been too outraged by this to even begin to understand their logic, so he took it upon himself to cut off the branches that hovered over her grave and kept it in the shade.
Hinata had been in the shadows all of her life and he'd be damned if she was going to stay that way in death.
The early morning sun would shine directly upon her, bathing her in its warm light and making her headstone shimmer in the sun.
Every morning Kiba would be there, just sitting there and keeping watch over her.
He had planted a small garden by her grave when she died because it seemed ironic to bring a bouquet of something that was dying a slow death as a gift for the dead.
They were calla lilies.
She always reminded him of them.
A magnificent beauty.
Their delicate grace and beauty reminded of him the graceful way she always had.
They weren't nearly as sensual or popular like the rose, nor as subtle and romantic as a carnation, but the instant he saw them, did he know that they were perfect for her.
They were a light, light violet.
The color of her eyes.
He'd always loved her eyes.
They reminded him of a plant that never blooms, but carried in itself the light of hidden flowers.
Kiba's thoughts always ran wild as he sat here, mentally tracing the words carved into her stone.
'What if I had been there? Would she have gone anyway?'
'Why did you do it? What were you trying to prove?'
'Did you ever think of me?'
Kiba closes his eyes, remembering that day.
And all he can recall is screaming and blood.
His heart lept into his throat when he saw her and he just knew.
He'll never forget the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins when he saw her lying limp in a pool of her own blood, the bile that rose in his throat as he pushed back the immediate thoughts that assaulted his mind.
Maybe he screamed her name then.
He doesn't even remember running to her, he was just kneeling beside her in an instant, shouting her name and shaking her toward consciousness.
But he can still feel the lifeless weight of her body in his arms.
He just knew.
He tries not to remember the painful way her head had lolled to the side and her arms hung limply, as if she were only sleeping.
The cooling warmth of her blood as it bathed his hands and soaked his clothes and matted his hair as he buried his face into her neck and wept like an orphaned child.
Her body was still warm, but only just.
And her hair still smelled as it always had, of mint and vanilla.
It was his first impression of her when they banded together to form Team 8.
For the longest time afterward, his clothes still smelt of her perfume.
It will always be his impression of her.
So he held her close to him, trying to savor the last bit of life she could offer.
Kiba remembers yelling at Sakura.
He called her an incompetent, stuck-up, scatter-brained twit.
And when Neji tried to take her, Kiba punched him so hard that it broke of one of his knuckles.
"You weren't here!"
"Neither were you."
He doesn't even remember what he said or did to Naruto when he saw him, but no one would talk about it afterward.
When they had her funeral, Kiba didn't cry.
Not even when they lowered her into the ground, the grand display of white roses, ribbons, letters, and her forehead protector illuminating the cover and reminding everyone of the magnificent beauty that the world would never again see.
Her funeral was spectacular and beautiful, a grand display fit for a Hokage.
Shino had led a beautiful display of monarch butterflies fly overhead and all around in memory of Hinata's metamorphosis.
Kiba didn't even cry when he saw her beloved cousin later that day, his eyes puffy and red, dark circles under his eyes like a shimmering bruise.
Neji couldn't look him in the eye, and he knew why.
'You should've been there for her.'
'I know.'
After he had severed the branches overhanging her grave, he had his own private funeral for her.
For him, there was only her.
But for her, there was only Him.
'Why Hinata? Why couldn't you wait? I could've helped; I could've done something. Why would you be so foolish? Why would you not wait for me?'
It appropriately rained the night after she was buried.
He remembers because as he fell onto her grave, the scent of fresh wet earth and roses filled his nostrils and engrained itself into his memory.
The rain softly patted his back and the wind gently ran its fingers through his hair, and he pretended that it was her.
'I'm sorry I wasn't there! I'm sorry that I failed you! I'm sorry you had to do that alone! I'm sorry you died alone! Please, please forgive me!'
He couldn't stop apologizing, even though he knew that he'd never get an answer.
'Hinata! Please! I'm so, so sorry! Please…please forgive me! Please…please…come back…please…'
He knew she was far, far away from here.
No longer in pain or struggling to be free.
No longer the girl in the background, watching and supporting everyone else.
The caterpillar finally had her magnificent wings.
He imagined her as an angel and it helped him get some sleep that night.
It took him nearly 5 months before he stopped sleeping at her grave, though he continuously visited her everyday.
He'd bring fresh rainwater for the lilies he'd planted every three days like clockwork.
They were beautiful in the spring.
White and light, light violet the color of her eyes.
Ino had said that they wouldn't ever grow in this climate but they would flourish more beautifully than the other flora that grew around.
He imagined Hinata's spirit aided them in their growth.
That her spirit would appear when no one was looking and encourage the flowers, helping them grow and rise above the odds.
"Hinata, these are for you." He whispered, placing the lilies in a vase near the stone.
"I know that they're fake, but...I didn't see the point in buying you freshly cut flowers just to have them die from exposure a few days later...so um...I know that you always loved beautiful flowers, but I never gave you any. I know that it's too late now but…they remind me of you."
His hands caressed the stone, dusting the snow off carefully.
"Ino says their name means 'magnificent beauty'. It's a shame I never gave you them because…these are perfect for you. Your real ones will grow back in the spring."
He stood for awhile in silence, then he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.
"I also wanted to write you a poem, for your birthday because…you liked romantic things like that but…you know how I am with words…so I…I went to the library and I found one that I think you'd like. Well, at least I liked it..."
He cleared his throat as he unfolded the paper and read.
'I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.'
Kiba became vaguely aware that someone was behind him, and caught a sight of blond hair out of his peripheral.
"Naruto. What are you doing here?" he didn't turn to face him as he quickly folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket.
"Today is Hinata-chan's birthday. I was bringing her roses."
Kiba turned then and saw he bouquet of red, pink, and white roses in Naruto's arms. They were amazingly gorgeous.
Hinata would have loved them.
"You remembered."
"How could I not?" Naruto walked toward him and knelt down in front of the grave as he set the roses in a vase near the stone with the lilies. "Happy birthday, Hinata-chan." He whispered to her as his hand ran across the smooth face of her headstone.
Kiba stepped back to give him some room.
A few moments of revered silence passed, and Kiba let Naruto alone with his thoughts. But the more time passed and Naruto said nothing more, the more perturbed Kiba became.
"She loved you."
Naruto slowly stood to his feet and wiped his eyes.
"Yes, I know."
Kiba's fists clenched as he turned a hard gaze on the shinobi. "Is that meaningless to you!?"
Naruto's looked at him, his eyes careful and solemn, but swollen with tears.
"Of course not! She…died for me." He turned his eyes away at that, and Kiba caught a glimpse of some emotion before Naruto wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.
"I'll never forget her for that."
"She…she died, trying to be like you!" Kiba raged. "That's all she ever wanted, was for you to notice her! To acknowledge her! To…to love her! But you were always too busy chasing after that damn Uchiha to even notice! You never even looked her way until she…"
"Until she sacrificed herself in my name!" he interrupted, grabbing Kiba by the collar fixing a hard glare on him. "She told me she loved me, and then I watched her die…because of me!"
Kiba's emotions were brimming with anger and he pulled his fist back…until he saw something in Naruto's eyes.
"Don't you think I've realized that by now?! I have to live with this everyday… reliving those last few precious seconds she was alive I couldn't sleep for months because of this. I blame myself for this! For what she did! I keep telling myself, if she'd never knew me…if she'd never met me…if I'd never lived….maybe…maybe none of this would've ever happened!"
Tears flooded Naruto's eyes as he never took his vicious gaze off of him.
And all at once, Kiba understood.
Naruto felt responsible for her death.
Naruto felt...guilty.
"Naruto…"
"I never meant…to inspire her in that way! I'd only wanted her to be happy because she deserved it!" He released Kiba's collar as if it were white hot and turned his back to him.
"She loved me, and because of that she's dead! How is that supposed to make me feel?! How am I supposed to live with that?!"
"I...I loved her!" Kiba shouted above him, unable to bear the strain of Naruto's guilt any longer.
"I…loved her and I couldn't even protect her! I was…right there! I could've done something but I didn't! I could've stopped her, could've helped her…done anything…but I didn't! I was right there! Right fuckin' there! And I didn't do a goddamn thing! And now…she's dead!"
Naruto slowly turned and looked at Kiba, his eyes slightly widened in surprise.
"How do you think I feel?! You were the last person she talked to! The last person she saw! The person that she'd loved all along and was willing to die for! All this time, I was always there for her, helping her, encouraging her, watching her, protecting her…and she only had eyes for you! Only for you! I would've died for her without even thinking…but instead, she dies…for you."
"Kiba…"
"It was always about you…always. All because…I was too afraid to come out and tell her how I really felt. I couldn't tell her, and every time I tried…I was too afraid. Because I wasn't you. I could never be you. You were perfect! Strong, determined, persistant…her knight in shining armor. I thought that if…maybe if I kept being there for her, training with her, being a friend to her, being a shoulder for her to cry on…maybe one day…she'd finally see it. Maybe one day…she'd stop looking at you and finally see me. She'd finally see that I…I'd always loved her."
His voice grew softer as he put an arm over his eyes.
"I kept putting off until tomorrow. There was always tomorrow. I never thought that…there would come a day that the sun would rise and set without her being here. And now…it's too late. Now…she'll never know."
He knew that he was crying and his throat constricted and was sore but he didn't care anymore.
He loved her.
He had loved her all along.
Kiba couldn't even remember when it started, but he knew that he'd always, always feel this way.
Kiba didn't know how long he'd stood there sobbing like a child, but it felt like an eternity.
He loved her, dammit.
So very, very much.
It wasn't until Naruto put his hand on his shoulder that he even remembered Naruto was there.
"Kiba…I'm sorry."
"Yeah…me too."
The sun had long since sunk behind the mountains of New Konoha before Kiba spoke again.
"Naruto, would you mind giving me a moment alone? I...have to do something."
Smiling softly, the boy obliged. "Sure. No problem." Giving the grave one last glance, Naruto disappeared into the night.
Kiba once again pulled out the paper stuffed in his pocket and continued:
"That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her."