"Oh heaven, I wait with good intentions."

It's 58 degrees outside.

Typical, Manhattan weather. It's snowing lightly outside, and compared to Ping-Pong sized flakes from this morning; I can't really find reason to complain. Pulling up into my driveway, I reach for the sun visor to open the garage door from the remote, as I wait I glance to my left.

He's there again.

He'd been for about two months actually. Lying in the cold snow, alone. Anyone passing by would stop to give him food, and once, and only once, a police officer that frequently patrolled this part of the city had brought him inside a small, family owned general store. He'd followed stubbornly and weakly, and later that day he was back by the dumpster and curb, donning a thick winter jacket and some heavy-duty winter boots.

Of course, he'd been wearing that for about three weeks now.

He needed to shave. He could put on a few pounds too, maybe like one hundred pounds, actually, and a bath. Shaking my head I park the car in my garage and unlock the door to my home. Inside is warm and fuzzy; the beach-like yellow walls of the town house seem eerily white with the contrast of snow covering the city outside of my windows. I fold my scarf and jacket over the kitchen barstool and fish my cell phone out of my pocket; I'd left the office but my day was far from over. I itch my nose as I saunter over to the living room to switch on the TV, it'd been left on the weather channel since yesterday, and now meteorologists claimed a heavy blizzard to hit in a few hours from now. I look outside and sure enough the snow is getting heavier.

Fuck.

You can just leave homeless people to suffer from hypothermia in a dangerous blizzard outside, while you watch draped in a cashmere throw in front of a fireplace.

Right?

Probably not.

I bite my bottom lip.

I've walked passed this guy plenty of times. He avoids eye contact, and never returns a smile. Certainly nothing sinister ever reminded me of him. I think of him when I see abandoned puppies and kids in feed-the-hungry commercials.

He's not malicious.

It's only takes two minutes for me to slip into some heavy sweatpants and snow-boots, and seconds more to throw on my fleece. I tread out the front door of my town house and approach him cautiously,

"Hey!"

He glances at me and quickly looks away, he's clearly shivering and his ears are a nasty purple color under the hood of his dirty winter coat,

"Listen; there's a blizzard coming in and you need to go to a shelter, I'll drive you if you let me."

He snaps his head towards me, it's the first time I'm able to look into his eyes, they're a sad, dejected type of look, and it hits me in the heart, "I can't just let you freeze; you've kept the dumpster company for two months."

The snow is getting much heavier, and I didn't wear a hat.

He chuckles.

"I'm sure you aren't a pervert or an ex-con, so I'm willing to help. If you can't stand up I can help you with that, too."

"I can." He shivers,

"Okay, so get on up. Let's go."

The snow is sticking to my face.

"I don't want to bother anymore people."

"You aren't bothering me."

"I'm sure I will."

"No..."

He shakes a bit, "Yeah, everyone got tired of me. I'm just trying to stay out of the way now."

"Okay, get up. Now."

I hate people who degrade themselves.

"No, just go, seriously."

Seriously? I try to get a better look at him, he sounds about my age, but now, with all the fucking snow, all I'm seeing is white. Gritting my teeth I lunge forward and grab at his sleeve, I tug hard and let myself roll on my heels backwards, when he feels me falling he reaches forwards and grabs my forearms with his hands.

They're dark, turning colors, but his grip is stronger than mine.

He's standing now and he's a good head taller than me,

"You're coming with me."

"Do you kidnap the homeless often?" He questions emotionlessly,

"Shut up, I'm saving you're life."

He's quiet.

He follows me as I guide him through the blinding snow, stopping only once to cross the street, when I reach the front of my precious town house I halt.

Shelter?

He sure didn't seem stupid.

Reaching into my pocket with numb fingers, I grab my key and unlock the door. I walk inside and he hesitates at the door,

"How do you know I'm not going to rape and kill you?"

I snicker at his remark.

"Because you would've done it yesterday when I stopped to give you that hot dog last night."

[Ticks and Fleas]

I had him take his boots off in the mud-run by the garage, and then decided it would be best if he stripped down to his underwear if he was wearing any. While he undressed I had left to go to my bathroom to grab a towel,

"Okay, I'm going to let you take a shower, I have some disposable razors and shaving cream so you can get tidied up."

"Thank you."

His brown eyes twinkled a bit.

"What's your name?

"Kiba Inuzuka."

"I'm Sakura Haruno, marketing student and secretary."

He nodded, and shuffled a bit as he retrieved the towel from my hand.

He was dirty and discolored, and the discoloration on his midsection seemed to almost be abs. Giggling inwardly, I guided him upstairs and to the guest bedroom. I waited downstairs until I heard the water running through the pipes, and changed again in my room, after locking the door, and went back to my living room.

I'm a fucking saint. Kiss my ass.

Yes this was I, Sakura Haruno, saving homeless people from blizzards.

I texted the news to a co-worker of mine.

'why don't you go pick up a few more you idiot.'

'he's harmless'

'until he sacs you in your sleep and bites you to death.'

'gtfo.'

I start the gas fireplace beneath the TV and, trot over to my kitchen.

Dad would kill me if he knew.

Inside there's a salad I made yesterday evening and some marinated chicken I planned to cook today; it only made sense to preheat the oven to 400 degrees. I rounded the kitchen island and back to the living room.

"Hey," he called from the top of the stairs, he'd taken a good hour long shower, and I had been falling asleep on my couch, "I have nothing to wear."

Shit. Of course, okay maybe I'm not that smart. Thinking swiftly, and realizing that I couldn't have him half naked in my car or in the store in this weather, I noted the small shopping plaza in Broadway. And the Blizzard outside.

Oh my shit, I had not thought this through.

"Okay! One sec!"

I scurried across the main floor and to the staircase; he'd been standing at the top, completely dry, with his towel wrapped around his waist,

"Hey," he crooned awkwardly, shifting his weight to his left hip. His body was riddled with small accents of frostbite from outside, but more importantly, he was built. It almost seemed as if he lost his way home from the gym; his stomach was shielded with some very legitimate looking muscles, and the leanness of his figure only showed signs of semi-serious malnutrition.

"How long have you been like this?" I wondered aloud,

"Six months."

Dear God, poor guy.

I shuffled passed him and into my room; at the top of my closet was a bag filled with sweat clothes my uncle had left while he visited me a few weeks ago. I returned to the second bedroom where Kiba was looking nervously out the window,

"Here," I handed him a pair of Adidas sweat pants that were a filthy looking maroon color, and a too large shirt that I had scavenged from my pajama drawers, "You aren't wearing those dirty boxers again- are you?"

"No... I don't need to wear any underwear for now."

His face was thoroughly red (like mine) and he fidgeted again before I quickly left the room. I sighed loudly as I closed the bedroom door behind me, I texted Ino again:

'i forgot he need clothes'

'you are the queen of idiots, Sakura'

'im going to punch you when i see you tomorrow blondie'

Downstairs I heard the loud 'ping' of the oven. I pulled an aluminum pan from the bottom cabinets and lined it with foil, after placing the two marinated chicken breasts in the pan and filling it with a generous amount of water I took my jacket and scarf from around the bar stool and put them in their appropriate storage areas in my room. When I returned to the kitchen Kiba was seated at the counter.

"I really appreciate this, Sakura." He said softly,

"It's what I do," I grinned cockily at him, "I like when people are happy."

"Me too." He said, smiling brightly.

I walked to the other side of the counter to speak to him, resting my elbows on the grey-brown marble,

"What happened to you to be out there?"

"My parent's stopped financially supporting me."

"And?"

"I was college student," he sighed, "I was majoring in advertisement but I was also doing ballet and dance on the side... I wasn't working."

"Ballet and dance?"

"I preform in Broadway plays."

"Oh you must be really good then," I tried to picture him doing some fancy soté, but his current physique was doing nothing to help me paint a picture, "Did your parent's come see you preform?"

"No; my dad wouldn't let my mom, he thought I was gay. He'd been against it since I started."

I gritted my teeth. What an asshole of a father.

"So what- he just stopped paying your tuition?"

"And for my lessons. I had been lying to him and saying I needed the money to apply for other colleges and internships and he was happy at first. Then he found out I was still dancing... I tried working a part time job on the weekends, but between rehearsals, practice, college, and lying I couldn't do it."

"I'm guessing he noticed your grades?"

Kiba nodded, "He started to ask my friends about what I was up to, and I don't speak about my family so they assumed it was okay... Then he found out." He winced a bit, "He disowned me."

Anger was seeping into my pores: his situation reminded me of Sasuke's. Having asshole parent's who think they can just come in and control your life and then drop out when they realize they can't.

"Tell you what," I growled loudly, "We're gonna get you back on your feet."

He scratched his freshly shaved chin, "I think I should just go back outside when the blizzard lets up."

"Kiba, no." I slammed my palms into the counter; "One of my best friends had this issue too, now he's on his way to being one if the most successful people his age."

"Yeah, but I really don't think I should just come in and impede on your lifestyle- I get that you're trying to help me, really I do." He put up his hand defensively, "I don't want you to think I'm being ungrateful, but I'll figure everything out myself."

My brow twitched.

"When?" I glared at him, "When your dead on the street and everyone who once knew you can't recognize your starved body on the cold pavement?"

He tensed, "I can do it myself."

"No you can't."

"Yes. I'm not a child."

"But you've been being treated like once, just let me help you until you can prove your shitty father wrong."

I'd been punching him in the face mentally for about ten seconds when he finally gave in with an exasperated breath.

"Okay. But I'm pretty sure you'll be tired of this in a few days."

"You don't know me, Kiba."

"The feeling is mutual, Sakura."

We both smirked.

I turned around to base the chicken, squinting when the heat washed over my face,

"I feel like I'm learning what warmth is again." Kiba said,

"I don't want to send you out in the cold again," I cooed, "that's my basis for not sending you out."

"Am I a puppy?"

"Might as well be. I'm pretty sur-?"

To my left there was a loud bang, Kiba had jumped off the barstool so quickly that it slid across the hardwood floor; I flinched and dropped the spoon I was using on the chicken.

"Sakura! Sakura!"

Oh! Oh, that was Ino.

"What the fuck? Why did you just fly in here?!" I shouted back at her, leaving the kitchen to meet her halfway through the hallway,

"Why don't you lock your doors?!"

"She does," Ino sneered at Kiba, she looked extremely upset, "I just have a spare key."

Kiba had been bristling before, but he calmed himself down- only to have Ino throw a heavy backpack at him,

"Stop that!" He barked, his thin body reeled backwards,

"Shut up!" She cried, "Sit down on the couch, right now!"

"What are you doing?" I asked her while we watched Kiba slink towards the living room,

"Checking him for illnesses."

Seemed legit.

Ino was a pre-med student after all, and she'd started school early. She was staying in New York over the winter to work under a highly renowned surgeon who specialized in tumor removal and transplants- however- Ino was also an expert in inspection of anatomy and diagnostics. I watched with a smile as she retrieved the discarded backpack, from which she pulled a pair of blue latex gloves and proceeded to card through Kiba's hair.

"No fleas." She muttered.

She grabbed his chin in her hands and rotated his head slowly, she gestured for him to remove his shirt. The snow was melting off her clothes. She seemed appalled at the state of his skin at first, but slowly finished her inspection.

"Okay."

She removed her gloves.

"Here." Taking five containers from her bag, she handed them one at a time to Kiba, "This is for your hair; as in crotch, armpit and head. This is for your mouth, it doubles as mouthwash and toothpaste. You have frostbite, but thankfully its only serious here on your wrist, so use this on any area where you see that purple-ish, blue coloring on your skin. This is for your ears," she let her head fall to her right shoulder, "lean your head over like this and slowly pour this into your ear by squeezing the bottle, let it sit for about two minutes and turn your head to the other side so it can drain and you can do the other one."

Kiba nodded after every order.

"This last one is a special lotion. It's kind of like a moisturizing cream combined with Neosporin, make sure you use it in the morning and at night, and shower in the morning and at night."

She threw her index finger at me, "Sakura he seems to be maybe fifty pounds underweight, it's not super-serious, but it can still be life threatening. He needs to eat four meals a day; I'll help you keep the fridge stocked." She turned her attention to Kiba, "Carbs and protein are your best friends, but start small, if you eat large portions right off the back your stomach may collapse."

"Damn, Ino." I punched her softly, "I don't even have to pay for this?"

"Normally you take strays to the vet," she winked at me, "but luckily for you, I'm pretty much your sister."

"I'm gonna put this upstairs..." Kiba said,

"Wait!" Ino whipped around, "Take this," there was a Nike Duffle bag inside the backpack, she handed it to him,

"What... Is this?"

"A Playstation 3 and a toothbrush, and some socks and underwear. I'm not sure if they'll fit you but you have some now."

Ino was a genius. Someone needed to be here to kiss her feet.

Kiba headed upstairs and Ino took a seat at the counter, she rolled her ponytail into a bun, "I can't believe you Sakura."

"Why not?"

"You're dad would skin you alive."

"I know," I laughed while I opened the oven again to base the chicken, "he'd try to move in with me."

"So what's his deal? How old is he?"

"I'm pretty sure he's our age... His dad disowned him for doing dance and ballet outside of school. He dropped out cause he couldn't afford the tuition and the performance pressure was killing him."

"Sounds like Sasuke."

"Oh I know."

I closed the oven and say down next to her, hooking my feet around the long legs of the stool, "I think he's a good guy."

"Well, he doesn't seem like the secret killer type."

We laughed.

"You need to get him some clothes."

I considered the suggestion, "I'm going to wait for him to put the weight back on and then take him. I don't think it makes sense to buy him clothes that won't fit later."

She sighed, "What's he gonna wear now?"

"Uncle Toru left his sweat bag here, it's full of stuff. That's what he's wearing now; and they're already too big on him so I think it'll work out until he starts filling."

"Make sure he stays hydrated and sleeps a lot, okay?"

"Yes mom."

"Shut up," Ino giggled, "It should take about two months for him to put the weight back on, if you let him work out he should fill in as he goes. I wouldn't suggest letting him go outside either. Inside is the best place to heal."

"Alright. I'll call you tomorrow."

She hugged me and held my hand as we walked to the front door, "Bye!"

I waved, closing the door as she pulled her hood over and began walking into the white oblivion outside.

"She's crazy." I jumped a bit a Kiba's voice behind me,

"I know," I smiled at him, he looked shaken up again, but he was also looking healthier already.

"She's a medical student?" He asked,

"Yup, come eat."

I used a cloth to pull the heated tray of chicken out of the oven, while it cooled off I put a place mat, fork and knife out in front of Kiba. I took the salad out the fridge and put a generous heap on his plate, and then I placed a chicken breast on top,

"Welcome home." I told him, after he smiled and shoved a fork full of chicken into his mouth.

"Thanks for letting me stay."

Smiling, and noticing the blizzard calm down outside, I make my plate and take a seat in the barstool next to him.

I noticed that it feels nice to have someone to talk to after school and work.

•••

It's raining outside and Drake's album got leaked. Looks like I'm going to be writing all day.