For Abby K- inspired by her oneshot 'Smiles'-
Credit goes to her for the idea and inspiration.
Credit also goes to the increasingly amazing Edna Scissorhands for beta'ing this for me 3
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Smiles
Strike Redkite
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When Kiba comes to the door in the middle of the night, the Hyuuga servant doesn't look nearly as scandalized as he used to. He knows by now that the ANBU servants can be summoned at any hour, in any place. He also knows that Kiba doesn't come to see the heiress in the darkness anymore.
When Hinata steps into the hallway, shrouded in white, her husband does not accompany her. He used to, in the first few months of their arranged marriage, but he doesn't any longer. He knows Kiba hates it, and he doesn't feel as compelled to accompany his wife everywhere as before. She'll only leave anyway.
The wise, white dog standing at Kiba's side whuffs in greeting. Hinata's face contorts into a smile for him, but the smile does not reach her eyes. It only makes her look pained.
Akamaru once looked hurt when she stopped greeting him affectionately, but he doesn't anymore. His large, expressionate eyes give her a doleful, pleading look. His tail wags, but it is half-hearted. He knows she won't pet him anyway. Hinata has not really patted him for many years.
"We've a mission," Kiba says, his voice cracked with the dregs of sleep.
Hinata nods, "Of course."
She turns away, her blue-black hair swishing. It grows unevenly above her right ear, but only Kiba knows that. She styles it now so that it covers half of her face; styles it to try and hide the scars.
It doesn't help. The servant by the door stands prepared to escort her to wherever she's going, and Kiba is left alone in the entryway of the Hyuuga complex.
"Lets go, Kiba-kun."
He hates being demoted back to 'Kiba-kun'. It makes him feel like an outsider again. Like he's only her friend, and not once her secret lover. He knows in his heart that there was nothing he could have done, nothing different he could have said. The mission was hers, and she took it. She's a shinobi, they're both shinobi. Death and injury are not uncommon things to them. They've both been to more funerals than either of them can count.
Still, he wishes she would call him Kiba again. He'd feel more normal if she did.
"How's Hiroko?" he asks, conversationally.
"Hiroko-san is fine. He enjoys clan life." Hinata's emotionless tone would have once alarmed him, now it only makes him sadder.
"Oh." Kiba isn't sure about a lot of things. There are a lot of things he is sure he ought to know by heart - like his ninja training number, or his own house address - but there are also things he is certain of. Kiba knows for certain that he hates Hiroko.
Even before he met Hiroko, he knew he would hate the man. He could have been the savior of the world, champion of the people, the fucking pope for all Kiba cared. But no one who would marry Hinata in such a callous way would ever be acceptable in Kiba's eyes.
His suspicions had been confirmed at the wedding ceremony, three months after the burn and one month after the announcement. Hiroko's entrance seemed to ooze 'worthlessness' to Kiba. His shifty gaze, his weak frame, his slightly bent posture; all unworthy signs. All sorts of things that would get you kicked out of the pack, or at very least made Omega.
Kiba had wanted to scream. Wanted to hit him, wanted to hurt him. Akamaru - attuned as always - had picked up on this sense, and had sat restlessly throughout the service, twitching and snuffling where he would never have made a sound.
Kiba didn't leave the ceremony, Shino would never let him forget it, and he owed Hinata that much. He wanted to more badly than he would ever express, but he didn't.
The mask Hinata has clenched in her hand makes him shiver a little. It is not a fox mask, as one might have expected from Naruto's adoring fan. She has yet to say a word about Naruto since the accident, though Kiba suspects she thinks about him constantly.
"We're here, Kiba-kun." Her voice is deadpanned, quiet and forlorn. She says this phrase every time he comes to get her, every time they arrive at ANBU headquarters for a mission.
Every time she gets to wear the smile.
---x---
Kiba knows she is grinning wickedly under the feral mask. Other ANBU keep quiet, keep silent. ANBU has been, by tradition, an empty job, a task for the living dead.
Kiba knows that Hinata is, without a doubt, the living dead. He knew when she announced quietly, three weeks after her marriage, that she was going to join ANBU. In theory there was nothing wrong with that: the ANBU are the most skilled, most talented, most able shinobi Konoha has to offer. They are the Hokage's first line. They report only to him, and they are a force to be reckoned with.
Of course, Naruto is a force to be reckoned with all on his own, but the other talented shinobi have to go somewhere.
Some people thought that Hinata joined ANBU to be closer to the new Hokage; to gain some of her lost confidence when she reported directly to him.
Kiba and Shino knew better.
To outsiders, ANBU are the elite. To insiders, they are the dead.
Those who have lost hope, who have lost will, who have hearts beating inside them, but cannot find the strength to exist as humans. They who live to obey, to kill, to be without thought.
Hinata is dead to the world when she fights now; even more blind and deaf than she is when she walks Konoha's streets. She never makes a sound, never indicates that she is anything more than a tool, but Kiba and Shino know that she is grinning behind her mask. That she lives to fight this fight.
The forest- not so far from the village- becomes dark and still. The last enemies, a pair of S-rank scout-ninjas drop to the ground, and Kiba heaves a sigh. Ninja wars are, as Shikamaru would put it, terribly troublesome. They are secret- no one country wishes to know when it is expending its forces in one way or another- and they are dangerous. Bodies go for weeks, months without being found. This is why ANBU are called immediately on even the slightest of suspicions. It is Naruto's personal policy that if Konohagakure can avoid even one more death, then all measures are acceptable.
Everyone agrees with him, even if they happen to think it is an utterly impractical strategy.
Hinata, garbed in black and white, bends down over the bodies. Her feral mask shines against her pale skin as she slits their throats for good measure. Blood spurts everywhere, but Hinata does not balk as she once did.
Akamaru whines sadly. Kiba runs his hand down the dogs' spine, seeking what little comfort he can in the face of such a terrifying ally.
They do not speak as they return to the village.
---x---
Kiba walks Hinata home like always. There are many things that have changed in their lives, but this is not one of them. Kiba still feels the need to be with Hinata when she used to be the most vulnerable. When she used to walk home tired and defeated, unable to restrain her resenting tears.
'When she used to cry on my shoulder'
Vulnerable is the last word on his mind now, but he likes the tradition.
"Sakura-san was looking a little ill," Hinata says calmly.
Her voice shakes slightly; Kiba knows she's trying to calm herself from the rush of the kill, trying to repress the happiness of being able to wear a mask, to hide the shining scars.
"I guess so. She is pregnant after all. She can't like it much that both her playboys are out on missions."
Kiba knows the moment he stops talking that that was not the correct thing to say. He can practically feel Hinata's withdrawal from the world, the way she immediately sucks back into her shell and hides her eyes from his sideline gaze.
For a brief moment Kiba contemplates that maybe she's still uncomfortable about their situation. He remembers thinking how totally fucked up it was when Team 7 had gotten together as a threesome.
Of course, he also remembers Hinata's sad eyes when he came back from 'retrieving' Team 7. He vaguely recalls blathering on about going into the Forest of Death to retrieve the team. He definitely remembers downplaying getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter by a Kyuubi-enhanced Uzumaki Naruto.
No, she's not uncomfortable with it. Hinata would understand; she wouldn't hate or despise any of Team Seven, although she barely knew Uchiha or Haruno. Hinata had, by Kiba's reckoning, moved beyond the point of utter infatuation with Naruto. She was still rather taken with him- Kiba wasn't stupid enough to pretend that she wasn't- but before that moment in time, Hinata's smile had taken on 'hey-this-is-kinda-fun' attitude.
She'd been getting better, getting happier.
She'd been getting stronger, damnit.
The Hyuuga compound looms up at them in the gaining light, stoic and silent at this early hour. The mission hardly took five hours; they've not been gone long enough to warrant anyone's noticing their absence.
Kiba assumes Hiroko hasn't noticed either, but he doesn't mention it.
Hinata approaches the wooden doorway, her feet treading a path she could trace in her sleep. She doesn't turn around, doesn't look at him.
Her inner retreat suffocates him. Kiba wishes he knew what to say to her- wishes that he knew how to save her. But he doesn't, so he says the same thing he always does.
"You're beautiful. You know that, right?"
Her face contorts a little, as though she might smile but doesn't remember how, and she turns away.
Kiba doesn't swear as the door closes in his face, but he sure fucking feels like it
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