Author's Note: It's been well over a year since I've uploaded anything, and to the few who read at least most of what I write, I apologize. ^^; I sorta ran into a wall with writing and got occupied with music as a creative outlet rather than writing. Also got a boyfriend almost ten months ago, and he takes most of my time—not like I'm complaining~ Buuut it happens to the best of us, I suppose.

This fic is a short story, and it's not all the way done yet. I'm posting in parts and this is the first. It's also my first time writing horror fanfiction (which doesn't pick up until the next part), and I think it's working well. Most fangirls and fanboys aren't used to reading that stuff, which is why I'm not expecting tons of traffic on this one. It'd be cool if you'd leave a review for me, though. Tell me if you liked it, thought it was shitty, everything in between.

Warning: Sweet fluffy boy kisses, but who needs a warning for that? Probably some OOCness, but that depends on your personal opinion. Uh, also . . . lots of blood and emotional trauma in the parts following this one. It's horror for a reason.

Disclaimer: I don't own NARUTO, blahblah-fuckin-blah.

The Will of Malice

At 2:00AM, Naruto stood in the darkness of his living room, watching the street through a large window aside the door. He tapped his foot on the carpeting beneath him, still scanning the summer streets for the seventh night in a row—a night that he presumed would be identical to the six others before it.

A car droned by, but it was silent just like the house—excepting the low and constant hum of the refrigerator, which was always silent unless you listened hard enough.

He wondered now where the hell Kiba was and what he might be doing. If that guy had fallen to sleep instead of staying up for him, Naruto would kill him.

And now he stopping tapping his foot and starting pacing, and he kept his eyes glued to the street, waiting.

—)O(—

Naruto's house was closer, but Kiba still had a bit to walk. He'd always known Naruto to be the impatient type—hell, everyone knew that—but he could hold his damn horses. There's no way Kiba would go any faster than usual. It was 2:00 in the morning, and his mom hadn't exactly been informed of his departure. . . . Altering his gait in any way would surely seem suspicious; any cop wouldn't be able to contain the excitement of getting to arrest some kid. Especially on a warm summer night.

And upon arrival, he would be elate they were going out to walk some more—perhaps until the night turned into the morning's blue twilight right before the sun came out to provide another eighty-five to ninety degree day of miserable heat. But until then, the night would be shrouded in shadow. Cries of "Hit the deck!" would invariably precede a car wooshing by, and those times were one of Kiba's favorites. They'd both go down as quickly as possible and spread themselves wide on the grass beneath them, and they'd look at each other and smile and feel how wet the dew was but not care.

It was all, in a word, perfect.

Kiba reached a hand to the top opening of his jacket, expecting to find Akamaru but finding nothing at all. Then he remembered he'd left the dog sleeping in his bed. Akamaru had seemed far too tired to walk around with Naruto and him for hours tonight.

And Kiba was indeed getting closer to his destination, and he thought he could see Naruto's house in the distance, though at this point it was barely visible, even with Kiba's superior night eyes.

—)O(—

Naruto's impatience had grown insatiable. He turned his porch light on and silently stepped out of the front door, being careful to close it as lightly as possible behind him. He walked past his dad's car and down to the end of the driveway, sitting on the cold blacktop. He looked to his right, scanning and squinting for Kiba.

He glanced down at his watch, and it said 2:10. Damn it, ten minutes late and still no sign of Kiba. Then again, Naruto figured, dogs didn't have the best sense of time, if they had it at all.

—)O(—

Kiba saw a light kick on in the distance, and he figured that as being a sign of his new boyfriend's impatience. It was dumb to turn the porch light on, with their sneaking out and all, but he figured it didn't matter all that much. No one would notice as long as he turned it off when Kiba dropped him back off, and that light was a sign to Kiba that he was close. His stomach welled with excitement.

There hadn't been excitement in how they got together, though—it had been a horribly and strangely awkward conversation. On the last day of their junior year, the annual pep rally was going; it was unbearably hot and sweat dripped from everyone's faces. The heat and boredom had initiated a game of Truth or Dare, and Ino, Kiba's good friend, had decided a good dare was to get Kiba to ask Naruto out. After some of her horribly careful wordplay, Kiba found himself standing in front of that kid, stuttering out the Big Question and looking at the pavement like some shy schoolgirl, like if Hinata finally got the guts to ask Naruto out.

There are two things he never understood about those awkward three minutes: Firstly that in that moment, he had indeed felt nervous—his hands weren't sweating only because of the weather; and secondly that Naruto—Naruto, of all people—had said yes. He had indeed said yes, and Kiba had indeed felt more elate and accomplished than ever. Even if he hadn't exactly known why.

Their first week together had primarily been a lot of texting and calling, trying to arrange discreet plans; and after they figured out such things are hard to keep secret during the day, what with parents and other unknowing (and occasionally suspicious) friends to deal with, romance during the day was lost. Then an idea, the one that had played out perfectly: Walks at night.

—)O(—

Naruto finally saw Kiba, his hands in his jacket pockets like damn near always, walking coolly but not strutting or looking too hard like he was trying to impress like those retards at school who "walk with swag." No, Kiba was walking like himself, a way that said, "Here's what I got; take it or leave it but it ain't changing." In fact, that quality of Kiba had always been Naruto's favorite, even back when he'd first had a class with him. It was all out in the open. But then . . . there was a bad side. There was always a bad side. What if that aspect of Kiba stretched to his relationship with Naruto, causing him to tell people in the event someone got on the topic and pissed him off—even at Naruto's expense?

No, he'd never tell anyone. Surely not. Never.

Naruto stood, waving hugely. Kiba waved back.

And so the night had begun.

—)O(—

"Where's Akamaru?" Naruto asked.

"Decided he was too tired to walk with us tonight," he said, stopping in front of Naruto and gazing very slightly down at him, given their small difference in height.

Then they kissed. It wasn't too sloppy nor too clean, and it definitely wasn't their first time of doing this either; it had been routine for the past three days, now counting the fourth, and each time had been different even slightly from the time before. Intensities and lengths varied, but this? This was prime, man. The cat's motherfucking pajamas.

They parted, having that slightly awkward post-kiss stare down, but the awkwardness was bearable and soon came to pass. And then Kiba started walking again and Naruto followed, close to his side. He linked their hands after noticing Kiba had freed his left hand, practically begging to be occupied by Naruto's right, and they stayed like that for fifteen minutes, no talking—also meaning no cries to "Hit the deck!"—and only walking.

They came upon the next turn in their walk, which was a racist-sounding suburban housing complex named "Blackville South"—a name which had scattered controversy and most likely scared away potential African-Americans looking for a place to settle down and live the remainder of their years, or perhaps to find their first home with bright and unscarred eyes. Therefore . . . all of the neighborhood's occupants were ironically white.

So they turned left and into the entrance, passing the first few of countless two story houses, almost all of them with luxury cars in the driveway, nice gardens tended to not by their own hands, and preexisting walkways leading to their front doors.

Kiba and Naruto weren't quite to the park yet, but they would get there soon enough. Their path had stayed exactly the same for the entire week they'd done this—walk to the suburbs, then in them, then to a park and into woods, which routed around to one more street until they were back at Naruto's house, where their hands would finally part and they would say their goodbyes with the sun creeping up behind them.

The warmth between their palms had not faded, nor had that emotional cheesy romance-style warmth waned from inside their hearts, damn it, their hearts. It wasn't bad, though; wasn't like they'd look each other in the eye and blush and then turn away cutely and throw up everywhere.

That warmth Kiba provided was unlike any girl's, which could not and would never sate Naruto. He'd been there before, trying to find a girl at school to date, and after some failed attempts (mostly Sakura) and some successes, he discovered a girl couldn't make him truly happy; therefore, he decided a girlfriend wasn't worth it. He'd needed to get real with himself. Those girls had meant a lot to him, sure, but he was constantly on edge and feeling terrible, having to smile and say "I love you" just because . . . well, just because that's what good boyfriends are supposed to do. And . . . it was pretty awkward to think about guys in order to get it up because she's horny and you don't want to blow your cover. And which guy did he think about most often? Sasuke? Nope. Not Sasuke, Shino, Neji, Gaara, Lee, Kankurou, Shikamaru, or Choji. . . . The one he thought about most frequently was right beside him, holding his hand.

Kiba was not as complex as Naruto in terms of dating, as he didn't have a roster of girls he'd been with; he'd merely been waiting for someone to ask him out. It hadn't been expected that Ino would dare him to have it go the other way, though (and she, of course, didn't know it) everything had turned out right, and two kids from Konoha High, whose sexual preferences were in the "straight/unknown" category, had started enjoying each other's company, first under the sun and now bathed in romantic moonlight.

Tonight was quiet. The moon was a sliver which hung in the sky, providing darkness that seemed to make the stars dance brighter, putting on a free show neither of them paid much attention to, for the walks were about two things: the route and each other. The route being watching the cars and paying attention to where they were, and each other of course meaning their purpose for it all—to spend time together, as horribly mushy as that sounds.

Kiba noticed headlights turning onto their street, and he squeezed Naruto's hand tighter, alerting him.

"Hit the deck!" Naruto exclaimed before he and Kiba went down to the grass, cold wetness on their faces as they looked at each other and smiled dumbly. Did they think going to the ground every time a car passed was always necessary? No. But they enjoyed it. They enjoyed it, and it was less risky than acting like they were allowed to be out. Countless times they'd gone down, but times when they stayed down for no reason could be counted on one hand. And this time, perhaps having to add the second hand if they counted, was one of those times. They stayed and stared and watched.

"Kiba," Naruto said.

"Huh?"

"How long are we gonna keep taking walks like this?"

"I don't know." Hair hung in his face, and he propped himself up on one hand and pushed his hair back with the other. "Until our senior year starts, I guess."

"Or until someone catches us."

"Naruto, don't be so pessimistic."

"What?"

"Pessimistic. Means you look at things negatively instead of positively."

"I'm just bein' real. There's a difference."

Kiba stood the rest of the way, offering a hand to Naruto, who took it, being pulled up and caught by the waist. Their faces were inches apart, and Kiba said, "Fine," smiling. Naruto's curious eyes looked black in the darkness, but Kiba knew how blue they were. "We'll keep doing this until we get caught."

Another kiss, this one much longer and deeper than the last. They didn't open their mouths, no, not yet, but they didn't need to. This was enough. Naruto's emotions swelled as if he were on a ship, riding the waves. The boat could handle the ebb and the flow, and wasn't that a metaphorical sailor's favorite part of the job? Kiba opened his eyes as they parted, and he couldn't place his emotions well, though he was positive they were good. It wasn't time to ask questions yet; it wasn't time to think about the future. That day might come, he thought, but it wouldn't be today.

—)O(—

They made it to the park, which was small and similar to a school playground—swings, slides, a sandbox, and a merry-go-round among other things. It was all old and rusted. They'd learned that the hard way when on their second walk, Naruto had gotten on the merry-go-round to be spun, but Kiba had spun him too hard, and the merry-go-round had squeaked, and they heard voices and scampered—or rather staggered, for Naruto—into the nearby woods, where Naruto vomited everywhere and Kiba had experienced for the first time what it was like to have to comfort his romantic partner. And for Naruto, it was being comforted and wading through endless and pointless apologies with a concerned boyfriend's hand on his back as he bent and heaved his guts out.

Nope, they learned the last time the merry-go-round wasn't a good idea. So sandbox it was.

They sat in it and felt its coldness, but they didn't play in it. They watched each other, sand covering the backs of their jeans as they sat with crossed legs.

"So Kiba," Naruto said, breaking the silence, "we've been dating for two weeks and I still don't know the kinds of things you're afraid of. . . . So what are they?"

He thought for a moment, looking at the mounds of sand before him—sand that was years old and had probably had more kids' dirty hands on it than there are germs on a public bathroom's doorknob. "I don't like it when I can't understand something." He didn't look up, but he could feel eyes on him, truly interested eyes—eyes that comforted him. "And I'm really claustrophobic. Tiny spaces freak me out. Make me feel like I'm in a cage." He looked up to Naruto and smiled. "You know?"

A nod.

"What about you?"

"I can't stand it when I'm not in control." Kiba looked at him actively and passively at the same time—like he was looking right into Naruto's eyes, and beyond them, too. "If I was put into a situation where I was helpless, I'd probably lose my mind." He laughed. Kiba laughed, too.

He had something to say, something both he and Naruto felt but could not for the life of them vocalize. Another fear had been added to both their lists recently. Fear of losing each other.