.

Recovery was a long and arduous process, both for the injured and the village as a whole. The death toll was over a hundred and forty, but there were still a small number of citizens missing. Though a grim thought, most couldn't help but marvel at how few had actually died, considering the extensive damage to the village. The good news was that there were no more expected deaths from the injured – they were all past the critical stages of their recovery. Clearing the debris was time-consuming, particularly with so many injured unable to help.

Kiba scowled in the direction of the hospital entrance from his seat at his sister's bedside, where she was still restricted to bedrest for a major concussion. It had been four days since he had woken, and he still wasn't allowed to leave the hospital. He got about an hour of walking each day, but still had to be assisted and accompanied by someone. Today he was allowed to walk himself to see Hana, with the help of Akamaru as a crutch, and was being escorted by Shino, who was sitting a short distance away eating his lunch.
"What's that pout for, little brother?" Hana queried, smirking a little as she saw his eye twitch at the teasing.
"I'm not pouting," he replied through gritted teeth, before he let out a resigned sigh, "I just feel so useless. I want to be doing something, but instead I'm sitting here crippled. Can't even walk to the bathroom in my room without Akamaru to lean on."
At the sound of his name, Akamaru lifted his head to look at his master, cocking his head to the side in question. Kiba saw this and bent to scratch behind the dog's ears, reassuring him that he was grateful for the help.
At his words, Hana looked frustrated as she replied to her brother, "You're not a cripple, little brother, how many times do we need to tell you that?" her exasperation showed on her face, but her tone was gentle as she reached up to place her hand on his tense shoulder, "Me and mum feel the same way as you, as does everyone who's stuck in this hospital, I'm sure, but we're not going to be any use until we're healed. Have patience, pup, you'll be up and about in no time. We all will."

Kiba sighed as his sister finished speaking, raising his hand to place it on his sister's with a pained smile, his gaze still fixed on the daylight that shone through the hospital entrance. He could see people, citizens and shinobi alike, making their way back and forth in front of the doorway, some carrying large loads of salvaged goods. He saw others pulling carts of debris, taking it where it could be evaluated for its usefulness in rebuilding. He wanted to be out there. Despite understanding his sister and mother's insistence that he would be soon, he wanted to be out there now.
He heard someone clearing their throat behind him, turning to see Shino standing from his chair.
"I need to get back to work," he muttered from behind his collar, "and you need to be getting back anyway."
Hana turned her hand, which still rested on Kiba's shoulder, so it held on to his own hand at an awkward angle. The action had him finally turning his eyes to look at his sister as she said, "Don't worry, brother," she emphasised, "you will get out there."
He nodded with a small smile that looked more like a grimace, as he placed his right hand on Akamaru's back and Shino took a light hold on his left forearm to help lift himself slowly to his feet. He gently took his arm back from Shino, using it to pat the bug-nin on the shoulder lightly before beginning to limp forward with a small wave in his sister's direction. The pain kept him slow, as the scar tissue stretched and tightened with every movement, on both his legs and side. Shino kept a short distance from him in case he fell or needed more support, but the dog-nin was determined to walk through the pain, so he kept just short of 'hovering' distance. The quiet shinobi marvelled at his friend's unwavering stubbornness as he watched him limping ahead of him, subtly pulling the hospital shorts further down his thighs self-consciously where they had ridden up from sitting. Though Kiba wouldn't admit it out loud, he was incredibly ill at ease with the burn scars. Shino himself had only seen them briefly when helping his friend from his bed, but he noticed whenever the shorts rode up, even slightly, the dog-nin would hasten to pull them down again, even if the damaged flesh wasn't visible.
He shook his head slightly, hoping that Kiba simply needed to get used to the scarred tissue being there. After slow progress, they finally reached the room, where the dog-nin proceeded to clamber his way onto the bed himself, lightly batting away Shino's hand when he tried to help. He was followed quickly by his nin-dog. Once his friend was settled, Shino made his way to the door, turning slightly to raise his hand to his friend in a small wave. Kiba gave a pained smile in return, half-heartedly lifting his hand in return. Once the door was shut behind his friend, the smile, however small, slipped from Kiba's face as he rolled onto his side, burying his face in Akamaru's fur, unwilling to keep looking at the unchanging scenery of his room.

Kankuro placed his hands on his knees, panting loudly as his lungs exhaustedly tried to take in more air. He'd been helping other shinobi move the larger pieces of debris using both his chakra strings and puppets. He took a large breath, choking on it which caused him to cough uncontrollably for a minute. A strong pat on his back shocked him out of his fit, and he looked back to see Yamato standing to his left. The older shinobi had been using his earth release and mokuton to help with the larger debris. His breathing was also elevated, but not nearly as much as Kankuro's.
"I think you've done enough for today," the older man said kindly, "you've been at it non-stop since sunrise."
Kankuro scoffed lightly with a small smile, "So what? So have you."
"That's true," Yamato replied, smirking, "though, I also took a couple of breaks, and I'm also older than you and have more chakra reserves."
"You're right," Kankuro seemingly conceded with a small sigh, "you are older."
Yamato scowled, and began to ruffle the cheeky sand-nin's headwear when he heard a shuffling of feet coming in their direction. He glanced up to see Iruka-sensei, along with a few academy students, carrying trays of water in their direction. The rest of Kankuro and Yamato's group noticed, all stopping their work to have some water, smiling in gratitude and ruffling the youngsters' hair.
Iruka made his way over to the leftover pair with a small smile, "You guys are making progress, I see."
"Yeah," Kankuro replied, exhaustion clear in his voice, "it's hard going though."
Iruka chuckled, "I can see that," he sighed, glancing around the area, "it looks like it's going well, though. The students wanted to do something to help, and I had them come up with a few ideas, and this was one of them."
"Well, it's greatly appreciated, I can tell you that," Yamato replied, graciously, before his tone changed, "any news?"
Iruka's smile faded, "No," he replied grimly, "they should have been back two days ago. I mean, I know Kakashi's late for most things, but never when it's important."

The concern was clear on the teacher's face, so Yamato smiled slightly, placing a comforting hand on the distraught chuunin's shoulder, "He'll be fine, Iruka, they all will" he stated with certainty, "he's never let us down before."
The man smiled gratefully in response, "I suppose you're right. I shouldn't be thinking the worst when I don't know anything. They probably just got held up somewhere on the way back. Wouldn't be the first time."
Yamato chuckled slightly, nodding in agreement, before changing the subject, "Hey, are you guys heading back to the village centre?" he asked out of the blue. Kankuro had a feeling he knew what the question was for, and shot the mokuton user a hard glare.
"Yeah," Iruka replied, questioningly, noticing the dirty look Kankuro was giving Yamato, "you guys were the furthest group, so we're heading back now. Why?"
"Well," Yamato started, ignoring the daggers being glared into the side of his head, "Kankuro here has earned the rest of the day off, so I'd appreciate it if you made sure he made it to the cafeteria to eat something without getting side-tracked by any more hard labour on the way," he said pleasantly.
"I'm fine, old man!" Kankuro interjected heatedly, "it's not like it's that long until sundown, we'll have to stop soon anyway!"
"Maybe so, but you're almost out of chakra and you haven't had a break, let alone eaten something, since you got here at sunrise," Yamato replied calmly, before continuing with the creepiest face the sand-sibling had seen since his brother's homicidal phase, "and you keep calling me old, and I'll kick your ass into the next decade, then we'll see who's old."
Kankuro gulped audibly, while Iruka looked on in amusement.
"Sure," the teacher interrupted, the laughter apparent in his tone, "I'll make sure he gets something to eat. I think it's about time the kids got some dinner, anyway."
He turned to call to the children that were talking animatedly to the other shinobi. They ran over to their sensei immediately, waving dramatically at the others as they moved off, Iruka in the lead. Kankuro stood stubbornly, before Iruka-sensei turned his head slightly, meeting the sand-nin's eye. The authority in that look got Kankuro moving, however reluctantly, as he shuffled along behind the children and their teacher, griping away under his breath.

Kiba poked his head out of his room through the slightly ajar door. He glanced up and down the corridor, checking for any signs of movement. It wasn't too late, but the village had quietened down with the darkness, and he wanted to take the opportunity. He felt his recovery was too slow. In his mind, he'd surely recover quicker if he got more walking practice in? People kept telling him that he'd be up and about on his own in no time, but no one mentioned the amount of time it'd take to get his shinobi training back up to scratch. He'd brought it up before, but he just got passive remarks on how he'd 'be fine'. It didn't inspire much confidence on how long he would be off missions.

He felt a nip on his wrist, and turned back into the room where Akamaru was gazing at him with a mixture of concern and disapproval in his eyes.
Kiba sighed at the look, "I know, Akamaru, okay, but I'm never going to get better if I don't get more walking in," he told the dog, the frustration clear in his voice as he glanced back out into the corridor, ignoring his friend's exasperated groan, "one measly hour a day isn't doing me any good."
Seeing that no one was around to stop him, he edged the door open more, standing in the doorway, supported on the doorjamb. He turned back to his dog, jerking his head so he would move into position. Reluctantly, the nin-dog did so, coming to his master's side so the man could swap the support of the door frame for his usual furry crutch.
Inching out into the hallway, Kiba kept his eyes and ears open for the sounds of anyone approaching. Continuing to hear nothing, he quietly closed the door behind him, heading in the direction of a nearby fire exit, which exited at the back of the building. He edged the handle of the door down, hearing a light click of the bolt, before slowly pushing it open. Another quick glance around and he was home free. Before leaving he locked the bolt open so he could get back in after his walk before beginning his slow hobble towards some nearby trees that hadn't been demolished. As he entered the wooded area, a light breeze rustled through the leaves; he took a moment to feel pride in his stealth, mentally patting himself on the back for not getting caught. His lack of attention to his surroundings had him trip on a tree root. Stumbling forward, he found he couldn't find his footing, and his hand had slipped away from Akamaru in his fall. He found the ground coming closer to his face, and screwed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact when he abruptly came to a stop. Cracking his eyes open, he took in his surroundings. He was at a fifty degree angle to the ground, and he could see Akamaru looking in his general direction, his head tilted to the side and tail wagging. That was when he felt the presence behind him, as well as the two hands that were gripped to his upper arms. He was then pulled upright, the hands keeping a tight hold on his now stiff form. He felt the presence move closer to him, stopping right beside his left ear, their chin brushing the fabric on his shoulder and something ruffling through his own chaotic hair. He could feel their breath warming the skin of his ear.

"And where, exactly, do you think you're off to?"

.

Dun, dun, dun. Who could it be?

I know, I know, it's been a wee while. Like, two weeks-ish. Sincere apologies to anyone (if anyone) who was waiting for an update.

I do have some reasons: It was my birthday last week, so I was celebrating/recovering all weekend, then I had work, and I got ill at work on Tuesday and have been off work with the flu since then, dying in bed.

That's not the main reason, though. Simply put, I didn't know what to write. If anyone remembers my first author's note, you may recall that I mentioned that I wasn't entirely sure where I was going with this story. I've never been a planner when it comes to stories and essays and such. Never have been, never will be, probably. I basically had the beginning (kind of) mapped out in my head, but after that, not much.
So, this is all just off the top of my head from now on, pretty much. Hopefully this way of writing won't take from the story in any way. I have been writing it down in a Word document, and I go back and check my facts, etc, quite a lot to avoid continuity errors. If you notice anything I've missed, let me know, especially this week. My head is just mush.
Which is also why this chapter is rather short, after I stated in the last one that I was going to try and make them longer. Boo me.

I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, as I feel I've missed a lot of description, but when I tried to go through it to find places to squeeze it in, it never really worked in my head, so I left it. Ah well, maybe next time. (Y)