I forget why I told Kiba to be at the entrance of the Leaf Village. I rub my gritty eyes, standing in the slow rising sun. Kiba really needs to hurry up. I have one sack and my back scratcher. Both have a reason why I'm bring them on a trip that will probably be less than a week.
"Why did you want me here so early again, Shikamaru?" Kiba says, right behind me. It scares the bejesus out of me, but I don't let him know that.
"So why are you so late, Kiba?" I ask, returning his question with my own. I turn around then and see him standing there, Akamaru-less. I look around me, doing a complete swivel. Where is that dog?
"Akamaru isn't here, Shikamaru." He explains, like talking to a slow child.
"Why not?" I ask, wondering why Kiba would not bring Akamaru to anything. They weren't two people – more like to joint connections of one person.
"You sound like you got attached to him – I shouldn't have left him with you during the day." He has a sarcastic edge to the end of his voice. "So, Shikamaru, the complaining, lazy, smart mouth actually has a soft spot. I wonder what all the others in our year are going to think."
My face has gone completely stone cold while he is talking. I grab him by the scruff of his neck collar – not planning on actually fighting. "I don't want the dog around. He'd just be a drag. I'd just want to make sure you didn't leave him at home on accident because then he'd die and I'd be the one to have to listen to you groan about it." I release him.
"He's with Hinata – I'm not stupid enough to kill my dog." He says sounding proud of himself.
"Well, I learn something new every day, don't I?" I say, watching his face fall and the temper side of him come out at my snide comment.
"You just can't not be a terrible person for one day, can you?" He asks.
"Ouch. That hurt right nowhere. Now let's get going." I start walking without waiting to see if he'll follow.
He comes running after and then immediately starts to turn right, taking the lead. I let my hand slip to my backscratcher, and I pull it out. "Kiba," I say, calling his attention. He turns right around to get smacked in the head with the handle of my backscratcher.
His hand goes up to rub his head and he looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Ouch, what was that for?" he complains.
"You follow me because you always take the leader position. Learn to let others step up to the plate." I explain, ready to hit him again.
"Fine, fine. Where are we going?" he is only giving in easy because he's sleepy. I know this will get harder as the day goes on. I take us to the left. He stops a few feet after we begin walking.
"Come on, Kiba," I say, irritated.
"But that way has thorns if you keep walking in the woods." He complains.
"Well, we won't be walking this way for long."
"It isn't long before there are thorns."
I move my hand in a flash – he doesn't see the wood before it hits his head. Thwack!
-/-
I take him right before we get to the thorns. He says nothing but rubs his head. Kiba really is trying to be quiet, isn't he? I mused. He must not want to get hit again. I wonder if he'll hit me back one time – I also wonder if he's going to realize I'm training as would I if he was a dog.
I jump up into the trees and he suddenly grins – flying up next to me. He soon goes past me, disappearing into the trees. I saw this happening.
"Kiba!" I cry out, moving a little faster. He's waiting for me on a branch and I stop once reaching it. He doesn't see it again.
Thwack!
-/-
The sun is setting when I tell Kiba we should stop for the night. I already know that once we stop we won't go any further. But he doesn't.
We get to a clearing and Kiba goes to the ground. He begins walking around, surveying the area. I wait for him to finish, following him to the ground. I stand on the edge of the clearing with my arms crossed over my chest. I let my eyebrows loosen for a second, and the tension in my forehead immediately relaxes. I wonder how long I had held my eyebrows like that.
"This would be a good place to stay." He says.
"Okay, get the stuff out so we can sleep." I say as he turns his back to me. I walk closer to him, keeping quiet. My backscratcher hits him hard on the back of his head. He drops the sleeping bag he was holding.
Thwack!
"Ouch – what was that for?" he complains, sounding oddly like he did this morning.
"You listen to me. You wait for me to find us a place to stay. Stop trying to take control." I enunciate each word in the last sentence.
"But this is a good place to stay!" he protests.
"We're leaving – pack up." I say, without a trace of emotion.
"But-"
Thwack!
That won't ever get old.