Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters.
Rated M for nudity, language, violence, and adult themes.
A/N: I'm not sure what part of my psyche was active when I thought this up, but I'm glad it was, ha! I normally don't delve in the angst category, and this is actually my first angst fic. Please read with a critical eye and please, please, please be kind enough to review, although since this rated M, I probably won't get many. Blah. Anyway, thank you and enjoy.
-Nightmare-
It was Ino.
It was Ino, and she was blessedly naked, and she was beckoning for him to come closer with her slender, pristine forefinger. A part of Kiba thought, hey, yeah, this is great, but what the hell is she doing in the middle of his showdown? He had been squaring off with a douche-fucker from Water country, some S-class criminal nin with a thirst for blood and the theatrics. The asshole had shown up to the brothel Kiba and his team had staked wearing a goddamn sequined and feathered mask. What the fuck?
And here was Ino, swaying closer to him, her hair like a white-gold curtain down her back and over her shoulders, and sporting her carpet that matched the curtains. Nothing shielded her smooth, athletic body from his hungry eyes. He wished he was a poet so he could find the right words, but before he could think of anything dirty to say that would make sense coming from him, she wrapped her arms around him and leaned up to devour his mouth.
Sweet Jesus, she was everything he'd wanted and more, and even though he knew, knew, it was strange that she would suddenly and randomly appear and start teasing him, he couldn't help that dark, lusting part that had him tilting her head back to feast on her white throat, and letting the eagerness to slip into her become uncontrollable.
She was so delicious he could eat her, and with that thought, he felt different, changed, like someone or something had taken over, releasing a feral animal that he'd caged and locked up at the back of his mind, and he bit down, hard, before he knew what he was doing. His teeth, canines and all, sunk into her soft flesh, and her blood was sweet and warm, and she was screaming, struggling in his arms, but he couldn't get his mouth loose even though he realized she was dying, gurgling in the blood that poured from her neck, and everything inside of him contracted and screeched in pure agony.
Kiba came to in the dark alleyway, Shino's hand on his shoulder. Several cold-shivering moments rolled by as Kiba comprehended that he'd been a victim of some serious genjutsu. Akamaru whimpered at his feet, wanting Kiba to say he was okay. Kiba was far from okay, and he ignored Akamaru.
"Never fear, friend. We have taken care of the target," Shino said quietly, and Hinata materialized from the darkness, her glowing eyes crinkled in concern. Gently she reached out to Kiba's face to touch the tribal mark on his cheek. He jerked when her fingers made contact, and although the gesture comforted him, he wanted to get home as fast as possible.
"Let's get the hell out of here," he said, drawing her hand away from his face. Still feeling queasy and terrified, Kiba turned and exited the alleyway, his teammates close behind and silent.
It didn't help him at all that when he finally flung open the door, he found Ino on a mission herself. Daytime was bad; nighttime was worse. His sleep was restless when he got any at all, and he spent many nights roaming the neighborhood and watching the clock tick away seconds and minutes with his old friend Jack Daniels. Akamaru kept an eye on him, he knew, but he wanted Ino, and he wanted her hair in his hands, and her body wrapped around him, and well, alcoholic haziness was the closest he would get to that at the time.
The day arrived when Ino entered the house. He forgot how many days and nights had slipped passed, they all blurred together anyway; what he'd been doing at the time seemed pointless, and he wanted to tackle her when she came inside the fence to the front lawn, but settled with fast, hard sex up against the back of the front door without the usual greeting and expression of love. She joked for several days after that the bruise from the doorknob would never fade.
His system returned to semi-normalcy, but he would still have the odd, vivid nightmare, and wake up to Ino stroking his hair, face, chest, and cooing softly, and the sheets would be soaked with sweat and tangled at his feet. Always his throat would feel rough, and always he would check Ino's neck for teeth marks.
She must have known something was wrong, scratch that, she did know something was wrong, but when she brought it up or mentioned it, he told her it was stupid, she shouldn't worry. And she never pressed him, only told him that she loved him and if he needed to talk she was there to listen. Usually he would snort and tell her she was being touchy-feely because he wanted to change the subject or get her annoyed, but she would only say okay and smile at him beautifully.
Paranoia manifested when they were having particularly raunchy sex one morning. He was tired, she was tired, the position was new, and her arm slipped. It just happened that Kiba had his mouth open, and before he could snap it shut, one of his canines punctured her skin.
It drew blood.
The genjutsu-induced illusion-nightmare returned with full potency, but now it was a reality.
The taste of blood caused his stomach to heave, and he barely made it to the toilet before puking his guts out. The cold sweat returned, he was shaking, and he couldn't get the copper out of his mouth, even after brushing his teeth and tongue ten times, gagging the entire time. You'd think he'd swallowed a bucket of it, for Chrissakes, with the way he could keep tasting it. In his mind he couldn't stop sinking his teeth in Ino's throat, her blood sprayed everywhere, and he should be chained up, he was dangerous, he would kill her.
After awhile of him shaking senselessly on the bathroom floor, she stood over him, and she looked contemplative instead of afraid, like she should have been. Without saying anything, she patiently hauled him to his feet, even as he struggled and refused and threatened and warned, and helped him into bed, wrapped him in the afghan she'd made for him for passing his jonin exams.
Tears rolled uselessly down his face, he was so sorry, he was so sorry, she should leave, he was too dangerous, he was going to kill her; she should call animal control and have him euthanized for being violent. He was so miserable and fucking horrified that he was shaking like a day-old puppy, and he didn't know if he could ever look her in the eyes again. Wisely she didn't laugh at his state, only touched her forehead to his.
"Look," she said, drawing a shoulder of her pajamas down. Where he'd caught her with his sharp tooth was only smooth. There was no sign of blood, not on her skin or on the bed. He couldn't even smell it, but maybe it was because the afghan held her scent so close to him, he didn't know. For the relief, he cried some more, pushing his weeping face into the crook of her neck, and was thankful when she babied him a little, rocking him, and singing a lullaby to put him asleep.
When he woke, it was with a start. Ino was beside him, her eyes gentle and open, making him wonder if she had been watching over him and if she had, she must have known exactly what he needed, and she understood when he glanced at her shoulder. Again, she drew the shoulder of her pajamas down, and again she remained unmarked. He touched the spot, just be sure, and she pressed her lips to his knuckles so lovingly and sweetly that it made him ashamed and fall in love with her again at the same time.
"You wouldn't hurt me," she whispered, kissing him on the mouth. "I'm safe with you."
She repeated it when he asked her to, again, again, again, again, until he felt that anxious, jittery feeling fade away into nothing, and when he laid his head back down because he was exhausted and drained, she told him she'd watch over him, and he had nothing to worry about, she would be right there when he woke. He believed her, trusted her implicitly, and before he dropped dreamlessly into blissful slumber, intertwined his fingers with hers.
End.