SPOILERS: Through Naruto chapter 342 and/or Naruto Shippūden episode 112/ the second year of Shippūden.

NOTES: Like I said before, I feel kind of weird about doing such awful things to the characters, but this is just the framework the story resides in. Now it's Kiba's turn to deal with the quagmire he and Hinata have fallen into.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Naruto.

CHOOSING FATE

Chapter 2: Anger, Pain, and Pride

Kiba was aware of it all, every last detestable act the scum who had ensnared him had done—from choking his beloved dog unconscious to chaining up his teammate. It was some sort of jutsu, like the kind Ino used only worse. He had done all he could think of to break it, even trying to maim himself as he had done with Ukon, but he'd barely managed to slow the bastard down.

Once it was clear what their captor intended, Kiba had used every ounce of hormone and glandular control he had to stop his body's reactions, but it only prolonged the inevitable. Once Hinata had fainted, the ninja in control of him seemed to lose interest, merely stimulating him manually until he could get the job done and finishing with Hinata without much fuss.

As evil as all of it was, what made Kiba hate himself was that a part of him had relished the feel of her against him, around him, satiating such a primal need. Most of it was his Inuzuka instincts—sex was reserved for mates and meant to be cherished, a celebration of life and vitality—but some of it was a deep-seated desire for her that shamed him.

Hinata had always been untouchable in nearly every way possible. Her lofty clan put her out of his league. That she'd been in love with another guy for years was a major turnoff. More importantly, he had been her genin teammate, someone she was supposed to be able to trust to have her back, not someone who wanted to lay her down on it. Besides, even with her personal and martial growth since then, she was so damned shy about that sort of thing that any guy who showed interest in her would have a hell of a time, assuming he could survive all the ninja like himself who cared about her and would do anything to protect her.

Of course, there were also countless reasons to be attracted to her—she was beautiful, sweet, loyal, brave, strong, tolerant, hardworking, and unfailingly kind. But he didn't see the point in people wanting what they couldn't have, and Kiba knew he couldn't have her. It was one of the aspects of Hinata he found both admirable and infuriating. Despite their agemate Naruto's unwavering infatuation for Sakura, Hinata's interest in the blond idiot had endured. It had been too long to be some childish crush, but she had never done anything about it. Now that she'd developed a smoking-hot body along with formidable ninja skills, she really should have gained the self-confidence to tell Naruto how she felt. Maybe then she'd either get what she wanted or be able to move on to someone else.

After working with her for years, Kiba's will to protect and support Hinata was almost completely instinctive. So maybe he'd been protecting her from this ugly facet of his psyche. He was usually so self-aware that it shook him to his core to discover a part of him wanted her in the most carnal of ways. It wasn't just the casual appreciation he had for all pretty girls his age; this urge was dark and complex and confused him.

His captor laughed at him. "What will you do, now that you've had a taste of her?" That it was his own voice mocking him only pissed Kiba off more. "Turns out you're more of a dog than you thought, hm?"

All Kiba could do was impotently curse, the words never reaching his lips because of the other ninja's control. Again there was laughter. "You hold onto that anger, my boy—it'll be far more pleasant than what's coming." He had Kiba grope Hinata again. "No mater the circumstances, you've just violated the heir of the Hyūgas. Life as you know it has ended...indeed, they may well end you." Sticking his nose in the crook of her neck, he had Kiba inhale deeply. It made him sick to his stomach to enjoy the feel her soft skin and the sublime subtleties of her scent after what he'd done to her. "Even if they don't kill you, I can't imagine Konoha's famous camaraderie will continue to extend to the likes of you. Mark my words, everything you both hold dear will start to fall apart."

With a sigh, the other ninja had him straighten. "Well, as satisfying as this has been, keeping you down has worn me out." He took another sniff, and Kiba automatically cataloged every scent, including the lingering odor of sex. "Your body was fascinating, though, so it was worth the extra effort. Still, I really must be going." His hands moved into an unfamiliar seal. "Cancel!"

Collapsing into a heap, Kiba's whole body jerked in violent spasms as the conflicting impulses between his will and that of the one who had controlled him worked their way through his system. It was like a backlog of messages suddenly arriving at the same time, and he just lay there until he had full control again.

Looking up, all he saw was Hinata's limp form hanging in her chains, her gentle features slack within the curtain of her long, straight hair. Crawling behind the tree, he threw up, relieving himself of part of his anger and doubt along with his breakfast. While he briefly considered trying to find the bastard who'd done this to them, his primary responsibility was to Hinata. He needed to get her out of those damned chains and to the safety and care of Konoha as quickly as possible; indulging tempting thoughts of the hunt would only slow him down.

First he straightened her clothes while trying not to think about how they'd come undone. Then he ripped off the branch that held up the chain for her arms and used his tsuga technique to tear down the tree and free her leg chain. Once he'd carried her to rest against Akamaru, he liberated his dog. Fortunately, Akamaru's constraints weren't made of the same chakra-sapping metal as Hinata's; together they were able to break his partner's chains and snap open the muzzle.

As soon as he was free, Akamaru howled. It was a bitter sound, giving voice to all the anger and frustration they shared. Like Kiba, Akamaru hadn't been able to do a thing to stop what had happened.

Try as he might, Kiba couldn't break the chains or shackles that bound Hinata, and they sapped his strength as surely as they did hers. Testing every material they had, leather seemed the best buffer, so he ripped a sleeve off his jacket and slipped strips of it between Hinata and her shackles. Although the leather helped, it didn't stop the chakra-drain, and he couldn't figure out a way to carry her without coming in contact with the chains. Being unable to use chakra made escaping the ravine they were in a challenge. Since Akamaru needed chakra to get out, Kiba ended up looping Hinata's arm chain over his shoulder like a satchel and climbed with her dangling off his back.

Once they were all at the top, he took a soldier pill to boost his energy for the journey to Konoha. The drain from the chains forced him to walk. He and Akamaru took turns, one carrying Hinata while the other hauled their things and Akamaru's restraints. Perhaps the little amount of evidence they had would hold some clue about the son of a bitch behind the attack. After all, the metal in Hinata's chains was expensive; not just anyone could afford so much. Even without the debilitating effects of chakra drain, it was slow going because Kiba couldn't stand to have Hinata jostled too much or risk her falling off while she was on Akamaru.

Despite the pitiful pace, the trip passed in a fatigued blur. With Hinata draped across his back, her hair flowing like silk across his shoulders and her divine scent filling his nose, Kiba couldn't help thinking about his reactions to what he'd been forced to do to her. The physical gratification was understandable, no matter how unsavory the circumstances, but the root of the dark satisfaction he'd experienced in making her his had to be tracked down and dug out of his soul.

The whole thing had blind-sided him, so first he had to wrestle with the fact he'd been in denial. Learning to not want what he couldn't have had been a bitter but ultimately liberating experience. He relished his ability to need little and live simply; it made him a top-notch survivalist. So it had never occurred to him that childhood lesson could have led him to lie to himself.

Thinking back, he remembered his early days at the Academy, how he'd been drawn to the quiet girl with the pleasant smell who had been nothing like his mother or sister. The first time he'd gotten her to smile, it was like his stomach had been filled with butterflies. How had he forgotten?

He could acknowledge maybe he had liked her as a kid, but he couldn't recall feeling that way anytime recently. As a genin and a chūnin, the only special emotion he experienced for her was the same stronger concern he felt for ninja he worked with whom he considered a part of his pack. What had happened since the butterfly-inspiring smile to create the insidious desire within him?

He remembered overhearing some other kids in class talk about Hinata being a Hyūga—that her clan was rich and powerful, and it was probably the reason she didn't talk to anyone. He hadn't really learned about shyness yet, but he could tell she wasn't quiet to be mean. So he'd asked his mom about it when he'd gotten home. She'd given him a lecture about how some shinobi were different from others, and that he should be proud to be an Inuzuka and not waste his time worrying about people who put on airs of superiority.

Still, he could remember reevaluating his classmates after that. He had always treated everyone as their own person, each as unique as their smell, but it was then he had noticed the physical differences, or his differences, to be precise. While there were other kids with tattoos on their faces, he had been the only one who didn't have round eyes. Even Hinata's unequaled, pale, lavender irises had the same shape as those of everyone else. Occasionally his keen sense of hearing would pick up derisive comments about long canines being a sign of a primitive nature or the smell of dogs being stinky.

Torn between self-consciousness and the pride his mother had encouraged, he had chosen to handle his uncertainty by expanding his ego. Instead of trying to be everyone's friend, he had decided to dominate the petty weaklings with the smart mouths—and it had worked. While he hadn't openly reacted to anything he'd caught them saying, he'd remembered their scents and would run faster, throw surer, and hit harder during practice with them. Soon, he had divided his classmates into three groups: his pack of friends; his prey; and the others, those who treated him no differently despite his differences.

And then there had been Hinata. None of his new-found pride had resolved the question of whether or not Hyūgas were too special to be familiar with an Inuzuka. So he'd gone to spy on them, to see what made them so extraordinary, and he had been amazed. He'd known just how strong his mom was, full of raw, wild power, but he had never seen anything like the controlled might of Hinata's father. It had intimidated him, and when he became Hinata's genin teammate, he'd been more than happy to wait by her family's gate instead of being invited inside.

Although he and Shino had always been reluctantly acknowledged by the Hyūgas, the cool, untouchable Aburames were more welcoming. But Hinata had never been like her family. She had always been accepting and thoughtful, and she acted anything but superior. So while he had to admit her being a Hyūga had always been off-putting, it didn't seem remotely enough to explain the unsavory impulses that sex with her had drawn to the surface.

Introspection had never been Kiba's strong suit, not that he normally needed it. But as he was transferring Hinata to Akamaru, she gasped, and it triggered a startlingly powerful memory. He'd been sitting across the aisle from her, waiting for class to start after recess, when Naruto walked in. The shrimp'd had a split lip, a bloody nose, scraped knuckles, and a defiant scowl. Kiba had been aware the blond drew negative attention like a magnet and had largely ignored him, considering him a weakling not worth the time. But then Hinata had gasped. He remembered glancing over to see her dark brows knit with concern over wide, pale eyes filled with unshed tears. Her hands had trembled in front of her mouth, as though containing a cry of despair.

Kiba's reaction to the memory was visceral. Bile climbed his throat, and he had to resist the urge to bend over and dry heave. Akamaru asked him what was wrong, and he couldn't help laughing. "I'm just remembering what an idiot I can be." Laughter was his natural reaction when dealing with particularly shitty, unavoidable revelations.

Plainly torn between worry for his human partner and confusion at the rare self-abasement, Akamaru chose to lean against Kiba, silently expressing affection and support.

Patting the big dog's head, Kiba let the familiar feel and smell soothe him. "Thanks, buddy. I'll be all right."

Hefting all their things, he started walking again, carefully poking at the twisted knot of feelings the memory had brought up. He had always been a little extra hard on Naruto because the clueless blond was oblivious to Hinata's relentless unrequited interest, but that was just the surface. It seemed he envied Naruto. Kiba honestly felt his life was better than everyone else's, so he wasn't completely sure. But maybe he'd been jealous and denied it.

Buried jealousy didn't seem enough to explain his repulsive reaction, though. Until his defeat against Naruto during his first chūnin exams, Kiba had always thought of himself as superior to the moody class clown. In the Academy, he'd been faster, stronger, and more talented; he'd even had better grades. To top it all off, he'd had a dog, which made him better than pretty much everyone, as far as he was concerned. But despite his defeat during the exams and the failure of their attempt to rescue Sasuke, Kiba held no ill will toward Naruto. Given all the orphan ninja had accomplished since their Academy days, he kind of admired the pipsqueak.

So if repressed jealousy was just the crunchy outside, what was the chewy center of his savage emotional response to a shameful act? Why had he recalled that particular moment? What about it inspired such a strong reaction? Focusing on the memory, Kiba tried to analyze each aspect of it—the sights, sounds, and smells. He realized it wasn't Naruto who had bothered him but Hinata's reaction to Naruto. Even if Kiba had considered Hinata something he couldn't have, he'd still wanted her attention and the amazing sensation of butterflies in his gut.

It all came down to pride. Kiba had never thought of pride as a particularly bad vice; it was such an intrinsic part of his nature he couldn't imagine being without it. But pride had caused him to resent one of the people most important to him. It wasn't that he resented Naruto for being the focus of Hinata's affections but rather that he resented Hinata for not noticing him in favor of Naruto. That resentment had been buried by his denial of interest in her and been festering ever since.

Taking Hinata's virginity had been a triumph of that resentment, and the realization made him feel lower than dirt and tremble with fear. She must never know. She trusted him, might even trust him again, someday. But how could she forgive him if she knew of the vengeful pettiness of his conceited heart? He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

Pausing to lean against a tree, he heaved for several minutes. Although nothing came out, physically, he felt his resentment had been replaced by shame and guilt. Neither were particularly welcome, but at least it seemed he'd rid himself of the foul darkness hidden within him. Overriding it all was anger—at himself for ever resenting her for anything and being unable to prevent what had happened, at their attacker for doing the unthinkable and getting away with it, at the Hokage for sending them as a two-man team that made them more susceptible to attack, and at the Hyūgas for making Hinata a target.

Akamaru whimpered in concern, but Kiba just waved him off. "Worry about her, not me." Together, they trudged on.

Once they got close to a Konoha gate, Kiba carried Hinata, since Akamaru wouldn't be allowed into the hospital without injuries of his own. He made sure to pull up her hood and tucked the chains into her cloak to hide her from the people they would pass, protecting her privacy. He blew off the gate guards with a harshly barked, "Later," and rushed past the crowds in the streets, his determination and physical strength making up for his lack of chakra.

Bursting into the hospital lobby, he was intent on one thing. "Sakura!" Hinata would have the best care possible. "Sakura!" And it had to be someone who cared for her and would be discrete, someone Hinata would feel comfortable with.

Several white-clad orderlies approached him, their arms outstretched. "If you'd let us take a look-"

"No!" He leaped away from them and nearly ran into a nurse bringing a gurney. A feral snarl caused the nurse to back off, and Kiba claimed the gurney for Hinata. "Sakura!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sakura's voice echoed down an adjacent hallway. "This is a hospital, you know!" As she turned the corner, her eyes rounded. "Kiba, what happened?"

"You've gotta help her." There was a desperate hitch to his voice, but he ignored it.

"Of course I will." Sakura shoved open a door and gestured. She seemed to know intuitively that there was something wrong that required confidentiality. "Bring her in here."

The calm authority in Sakura's voice soothed him, and he followed her guidance without a second thought. "I couldn't get them off." Once the examination room door was closed, he unwrapped the cloaks to reveal the chains that bound his Hyūga teammate. "They sap your chakra. I tried everything..."

Sakura tapped the metal only to pull her hand away with a small yelp. "How long has she been like this?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to yank open a drawer and pull out several ceramic splints. Removing the leather strips, Sakura began placing the splints between Hinata and her shackles. Hinata looked so frail and fatigued and lifeless. Sakura paused to look up. "Kiba!"

He blinked. "What time is it?" It was odd that he didn't know, seeing as it was a sunny day and he'd been outside minutes ago, but he just couldn't remember.

Apparently satisfied that he was paying attention, Sakura turned back to Hinata and flashed a small light in her eyes. "Just after two."

"Then about six hours."

Sakura frowned as she slipped a blood pressure cuff around Hinata's arm. For a minute, there was no sound other than the pumping and hiss of the cuff and Kiba's labored breath. He hadn't realized he was winded.

After listening to Hinata's breathing and heartbeat, Sakura nodded then yanked open another drawer and pulled out a thin, flexible saw and a pair of thick, rubbery gloves. She tossed the gloves to him. "This is going to hurt, but I need you to hold the shackles." Sliding the saw between two of the splints, she attached the handles, grasped them firmly, and checked to see if he'd gotten the gloves on. "Ready?" In response to his nod, she huffed, "Now!"

The sting of the metal was muted by the gloves, much more than the leather, but it made him wonder how Hinata had remained conscious as long as she had. Even with the gurney's wheels locked, there was too much movement, so once they'd gotten through the first shackle, they transferred Hinata to the floor. Kiba sat behind her with his back to a wall so he could use his whole body to hold the shackle still as Sakura fed her own chakra into the saw blade and powered through their task. Once they cut off the fourth restraint, they moved the awful chains aside and sat gasping for minute.

"Is she going to be all right?"

Using her chakra to examine her patient, Sakura passed a hand over Hinata and smiled. "She's badly drained, but she'll live." Climbing to her knees, she reached out. "Let's get her back on the gurney."

As he wrapped his arms protectively around Hinata, Kiba wondered at his possessive reactions. "I'll do it." Maybe it was because he was feeling guilty, but he wasn't sure, since guilt was a fairly alien concept for him.

While Sakura checked Hinata's vitals again, she observed, "You look pretty awful yourself, and your hands are a mess. Do you want me to examine you, too?"

"I'll be fine." His tone bothered him; there was no gratitude in it. "Thank you."

"You should at least wash your hands."Grabbing him by the wrist, she hauled him over to the room's sink and monitored his progress. "You gonna tell me what happened?"

Kiba shook his head, trying not to wince as part of a nail he'd damaged while climbing out of the ravine finally came off. It was standard procedure to tell a medic what happened when bringing in an unconscious teammate, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "I have to talk to the Hokage first. Do you have any more of those gloves?" Perhaps it was shame that stopped him? Fortunately, Sakura didn't seem too intent on pressing him. While she out more gloves, he bandaged his hands and used Hinata's cloak like a giant furoshiki to bundle up the chains. "I'd like you to be the only one to attend to her."

Raising her hand in a fist, Sakura smirked. "Leave it to me."

He hesitated before he left, halted by the need to touch Hinata, just one more time, as though seeing her wasn't enough to convince him she was safe. Their old genin team had never been touchy-feely, so even as he reached for her, he was puzzled by the impulse. Then it occurred to him, after what had happened, she might never let him touch her again. She might never want to see him again. The thought made his heart ache.

Taking one of her hands in his, he felt for her pulse. It was reassuringly slow and steady beneath his fingers, but the pale skin where the shackle had been was discolored, a combination of having been rubbed raw and burned. It rekindled the anger in his gut and sent him storming out the door and all the way to Hokage Tower.

DETAILS

Furoshiki = a cloth, often square, of varying size, used to wrap and carry items