Naruto's POV
Sasuke was being nice, but I guess I said something wrong because then he decided to act like a fucking dick. Again. Jeez, just when I think I'm getting somewhere with him, he does a U-turn.
I watch him go, wondering if I should chase after him. Probably not. We aren't friends. I mean, I want to be his friend, but I don't know if he wants that. Something tells me he probably doesn't.
Everything is kind of blowing up lately. This whole thing with Kiba sucks, but I think things will be okay. I just need to give it some time. We argued about it a bit, but we didn't really talk it over yet. That can come later, when he's ready. Whenever that may be.
I shove my hands in my pockets and stare at the floor as I head back into my room.
Kiba was here earlier, but he left. He was pretty quick to ditch when we began to try hashing things out.
I know he's uncomfortable—I'm uncomfortable too—but I wish he would at least talk to me.
I was worried as fuck when he took off so early in the morning and then ignored me for days. I still don't know if he got in trouble with his parents or if they bought the vet-internship lie we were spinning.
From the bruise on his face, I would say they didn't. Kiba insists it's not from them but I'm not an idiot. He says he and his dad were kicking the ball around so that he could stay on top of his skills for next soccer season, but I know that's a load of crap. Kiba would never just hang out with his dad. He thinks his dad's a fucking tool.
It sucks that he feels like he has to lie to me, but I guess I sound like an entitled dick if I say he SHOULD talk to me. He doesn't really owe me anything. Plus, Kiba doesn't really talk to anyone. Ever. Unless he's on drugs, apparently. I liked that a lot. I liked hearing him talk to me with ease about things he feels.
I guess I'm a sentimental and sappy person. I've always been that way. It's probably because my parents died. Now I just want attention. I want emotional connections with people. I want to be cared for, loved, all that shit.
When I get to my room, I sit on my bed with my laptop. I do some reading and then I do some homework. I take a few pills when I begin to lose focus and then I do a little more homework. I still have Ritalin lying around. I've been taking it for much of my life. I've always been hyperactive. I'm not so bad these days, but I can still act up a bit now and again.
I've been doing a good job this year I think. I'm doing fine in all my classes and it makes me feel proud. Last semester was kind of hard—I was tired and down in the dumps a lot of the time. That's kind of why I started doing cocaine. It makes me feel a lot better and like I can get everything done. The come down's a bitch though.
Kiba always complains that I shouldn't be doing drugs, but I don't think he has much room to talk. It's not like he's the happiest, most stable person I know. All he does is run away from his problems, so I'm not going to be taking any pointers from him anytime soon.
He's a little hypocritical. I think he just thinks cocaine is worse than alcohol because one is legal and one isn't, but honestly, what the fuck is the difference? I've seen people wreck themselves worse with alcohol. I've seen it happen to Kiba, to Sakura, to Karin, to Ino and even to Sasuke recently. Hell, I've wrecked myself by drinking too much, too. I've never screwed myself over with cocaine, though.
I like to think I'm in control of my habits. It's not like this is an addiction.
Sometimes I just need something extra to keep me on my toes.
I know that sounds dumb as fuck, but it's hard to explain. The drugs just… help. I like cocaine more than Ritalin, but I'm not in the mood for a come down. I have a lot of homework and it's easier to just take the pills sometimes.
In a sense, it's all the same shit anyway.
I study for a few more hours before it starts to get late. I contemplate taking another pill, but I have most of my work done and what I don't I can finish during tomorrow during my lunch hour, so instead I roll over and turn out the light.
.
.
The follow week, Kiba is still being a little bitch about the fact that we slept together. I don't know why he won't just get over it, but it's progressed into him ignoring me even in class which is fucking irritating as hell.
Like, I get it. He doesn't want to date me. Same, okay? It was all a big fucking mistake.
It's not like sex has to mean anything. He can still like girls and have a moment with a guy. It doesn't have to turn his entire universe upside down. It was just physical. Lots of guys do shit like this. I doubt he's the only straight guy around who has hooked up with another guy. Jeez. He needs to calm down.
In class, he's sitting next to me slumped in his chair with his arms crossed. He looks so sour it's almost laughable.
Sasuke isn't here and by now that is pretty typical.
I don't know where he is or what he's doing. He didn't exactly tell me much when we spoke last week. I shouldn't have tried to pry. Clearly it pissed him off, though I have no fucking clue why.
For someone who likes to express his feelings as much as I do, I sure am good at surrounding myself with emotionally stunted assholes.
By the time class ends Kiba already has his bag packed. It's clear that he's trying to make a quick getaway.
Luckily I also have my things put away, so the second he stands up to go I follow right after him.
"Hey," I say loudly once we're out in the hallway, "Do you have a second?"
"Sorry, I have some work I need to do in the library," he replies, stopping and looking over his shoulder. It's a lie, that much is not hard to tell.
"No you don't," I grumble. "You have some things you need to work out with me."
He rolls his eyes. God he's such a fucking dick sometimes I don't even know why I put up with him.
"I mean it," I say harshly. I'm trying to sound intimidating or whatever. It works on him when his parents do it, so if he's going to be that way I might as well give it a try.
He turns around and scowls at me. "Fine," he mutters.
It makes me feel kind of bad that that worked, but whatever.
I nod for him to follow me and we head to my room to try and hash things out… again. Hopefully we actually get somewhere this time. I just want things to be normal again. I hate that things are so tense and awkward.
Kiba slams his bag on the ground and sits on my bed, crossing his arms. "What do you want to talk about?"
"What the fuck do you think I want to talk about?" I retort snappily.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Fucking drop it, Naruto. It's not important."
"We can't just ignore it!" I exclaim.
"Why not?" he asks
Jeez, is this guy for real?
"Because, quite frankly, it's rude!" I say.
"God, who the fuck cares?" Kiba drawls. "We fucked. What-fucking-ever. I don't fucking give a fuck."
Clearly that's not true.
"Uh-huh," I say, crossing my arms. "Who yah trynna fool?"
"No one!"
"Okay, but why are you this way?" I urge him to continue. "That's what I'm asking here. Why don't you trust me?"
"I didn't say that I didn't trust you."
"Not in so many words, but I know you don't." I pause for a second and then add, "You don't trust anyone."
He lets out an exasperated sigh.
"Exactly. I don't trust anyone."
I don't really know what to do with that piece of information. It makes me mad—it makes me feel hurt—but it's not like there's anything I can do about it.
I won't give him an ultimatum. I won't pull any of the "you better tell me what's going on right now or else" bullcrap. I just have to let it be.
Either he'll get there on his own or he won't at all.
"Okay," I say finally. I know I sound dejected as fuck and Kiba gives me a sad look that tells me he feels bad about the whole situation. "I just don't get how you can keep things bottled up like that," I mumble. "It can't feel good."
"It doesn't feel good," he admits. "I just can't talk about things. I don't know why."
"But you know I'd never judge you…"
"Regardless," he says.
"You act weird sometimes," I add. "I never know what to do with it."
It makes me feel like he must have some huge shitty secret. Maybe that's immature of me, but what else could it be?
"Well, I can't help it," he retorts somewhat defensively.
I hold my hands up. "I'm not saying that it bugs me, it's just something I've noticed through time." A pause. "Do you think you'll EVER talk to me?"
"I don't know," he admits. "Look, I know you're a sensitive guy and you like to talk about feelings and shit, but that's not me."
I want to roll my eyes at being called a 'sensitive' guy, but I refrain. Now isn't the time.
"Look, let's just… be normal again," he decides. "That's what you want, right? Let's just pretend that none of it happened."
"Kiba, I CAN'T do that!" I exclaim. "That's why I want to fucking talk about this shit, so we both get to the same page and we don't feel so fucking weird about it anymore. It happened and we can't just pretend otherwise."
He lets out a sharp sigh and I can tell he's annoyed. "What the hell do you want me to say, Naruto? It's embarrassing! I never thought I'd do a thing like that, for fuck's sake…"
At least that is something. It's not what I want to hear, but it's something.
"Why is it embarrassing?" I ask him.
"I had a dick in my ass," he points out flatly, looking a little flushed when the words come out.
This time, I do roll my eyes. "Who CARES? Jeez, it's not like it makes you any less of a man or some shit."
"Well, it feels like it," he mutters.
And maybe that's it. God, he is so fucking old fashioned it's almost depressing the way he thinks about things.
"Ugh. No." He gives me an annoyed look, like he has no clue where I would get that idea from. "It's just—me."
"Oh? Why's that?" I can hear my tone start to become mocking. "You're so perfect you couldn't possibly fuck a dude but everyone else—well—everyone else is just weak and confused so of course they'd do a thing like that?"
He scowls but doesn't reply. He probably doesn't have any sort of comeback which is surprising since he's so full of shit lately.
"You chalk this up to be a huge mistake, which it was, but don't fucking forget that you wanted to have sex with me," I remind him. "I know that's not something you want to think about, but you can't just pretend that whoever you were in that moment wasn't you."
His cheeks are red. I don't know if he's angry or embarrassed or maybe it's just a mix of both. I don't care. It's not fair for him to try to brush it off like it didn't even happen. It's stupid.
"Shut up," he finally mutters.
I scoff at that. "Wow, nice comeback."
"I'm not trying to be witty!" he hisses. "I just don't know why the fuck you want to talk about this shit! Fuck. Are you gay?"
"I don't fucking know," I say. "Are YOU gay?"
He is scowling at me. "No!" he insists sharply, like it'd be the worst thing in the world if he was. Maybe he means it, though. I don't fucking know anymore. "Stop being so fucking loud! I don't want the entire dorm to know about this, jeez!"
I want to ask him why it even matters, but I already know the answer, so it'd be a pointless question. He doesn't want people to know because he's ashamed and people would think things about him that he doesn't want them to think.
"You're being just as loud," I point out.
He crosses his arms again and closes his eyes, letting out a sigh that sounds more like a hiss. It's obvious that he's mad. We aren't going to get anywhere like this.
"You're killin' me here, bro," I say in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Bro, you literally had your dick in my ass like three weeks ago."
I crack a smile. I can't help it. I'm pissed off but this whole thing is just fucking absurd.
"Look," I say finally, "I get that you feel weird. Trust me, I understand. I just want you to know that you don't have to feel weird about it by yourself, okay? I want you to talk to me—just give me something for fuck's sake."
He glances at me, looking weary. I can tell how much he wants the conversation to be over with, but I'm not quitting until I actually feel like I got somewhere with him. "It's hard for me to talk about things," he says.
"I know," I reply. "You said that."
"When I was a kid, my parents would shut me down every time I tried to talk about my emotions and shit," he says with a shrug. I can tell he's trying to play it off like it's whatever, but it's not.
"Ah…" I murmur, feeling sorry for him. God, his parents are such assholes. He's so closed off. He never talks about what he wants or needs. He never cries in front of anyone unless he's too trashed to realize he's crying. I don't get that. I cry all the time and no one in my life ever told me I couldn't. His parents probably told him he couldn't.
"So, yeah, I'm closed off," he continues, "and that's probably why, but I can't really magically change that now. This is just who I am."
I feel like there's more to it, but this is probably the most honest he's ever been with me while sober and I don't want to push my luck.
"Thank you for telling me that," I say. I feel like it's the proper response. It's emotionally supportive and affirmative. There are certain ways you're supposed to say these sorts of things, right?
"You're…welcome." He pauses, looking uncomfortable.
"You're my best friend," I add after a moment, "I don't want that to change over something so stupid. We don't have to talk about it anymore."
Kiba breathe a sigh of relief. He's probably happy as fuck that I'm going to stop pestering him.
"So, wanna do some homework?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "Sure."
.
.
Things seem semi normal again, which I am beyond grateful for. The weeks continue to fly by. Soon enough, exams will start again and it'll be summer. I'm still trying to convince Kiba to live with me, but he just keeps saying the same thing he always says: "I don't know, man, my parents probably wouldn't like it."
Well, in my opinion, that's part of why he should do it. Then they can't be so oppressive. He's too sheltered. He needs to learn how to be on his own, otherwise he'll be in for a bad time when he finally does move out on his own. This way, I'll be able to help him. I do everything for myself. I cook, I clean. I can show him how to do these things. He needs to learn eventually, so it's best he learns now rather than later.
Right now, I'm getting ready for class. Sasuke still hasn't been showing up. I don't know what the hell is going on with him these days.
I've stopped asking Karin about it though. I haven't asked anyone in a while actually. Everyone was starting to get irritated and none of them had an answer anyway so I was just wasting my time.
I wonder if he said something to the professor to make it so that he's allowed to skip so much. Maybe he even dropped the class so that he could focus on the other tough coursework he was telling me about. That doesn't seem like Sasuke though, especially since dropping halfway through the semester puts a "withdrawn" mark on your transcript.
I finish brushing my teeth and rush back to my room to pack up my bag. I'm in a little bit of a hurry since I got a late start this morning.
Once I'm finally ready I hustle down the stairs and across campus. Hopefully I won't be late.
I start running and end up being a couple minutes late, but Kakashi doesn't seem to give a fuck. He's usually the late one anyway and he's the damn professor.
I head to the back of the room and sit in my usual place next to Kiba. It's funny – there are no assigned seats yet everyone still sits in the same damn spot every day.
I glance around the room. Sasuke isn't here. Again. I see Kiba glance at me and snort. He knows what I'm doing. I just give him a wry smile and shrug.
Kakashi is talking about our final assignment. It seems pretty tedious, but not overly complicated. We need to come up with a business plan for a fictional business. We have a month to do it, then exam season will start. Not really looking forward to that. I hate studying.
On the bright side, then it will be summer. My first summer in college, actually. That's pretty exciting. I'm going to start looking for an apartment off campus since they close the dorms about a week after class end and my "at risk student" scholarships actually add up to be enough for me to get a place of my own.
I do want a roommate though—it would be so crappy to live all alone. If Kiba can't get his shit together I'll have to ask someone else. I have no idea of who else I could possibly live with though, so for the time being I'll just have to keep pestering him.
I don't think I would even want to live with anyone else… not that I'd tell him that. It might make him feel weird. He'd probably accuse me of having feelings for him or something – which I don't. I am being truthful when I say that. He's a good looking dude and I definitely didn't mind sleeping with him, but it doesn't run any deeper than that.
When class is finally out, me and Kiba go get coffee before heading to the library. We decide to start planning out our assignments early on so we can get them done sooner rather than later.
Usually I am the type to procrastinate, but Kiba seems motivated. I think he wants to get it over with so he can put his efforts elsewhere – like in his science courses.
"So…" I say after we've been studying for a while, "I'm going to start looking for a place for next year soon."
Kiba looks up from him textbook—he knows where I'm going with this. "I haven't asked them yet," he says sheepishly.
"Kiba," I drone, "When are you going to finally ask? Are you really that worried that they're going to flip out?"
"They will absolutely flip out," he corrects me. "There's literally no question about that."
"So tell them to shove it!" I suggest facetiously, even though I know he won't do it.
"It's not that simple."
I roll my eyes, "Ugh. I know, I know. Just please ask them soon, will you? Find a good time or whatever when they're both in a good mood."
"I will," Kiba replies, but I think he's just trying to get me to shut up.
"All right," I relent.
I guess that's that… For now.
I hate his parents. They're so controlling. Clearly they have a warped view of the world and it's obvious with the way Kiba turned out, no offense to him. They probably make Kiba feel like they know what's best for him, though I doubt that's the case. I really want him to get away from them, at least for a while. I feel like it would be a nice change for him. He'd probably enjoy being away from them. They seem like they are totally suffocating. If I had parents like that, I'd feel claustrophobic as fuck.
Hopefully he actually will bring it up with them soon. I know they'll probably say no. The rest will be up to him. If he wants to leave, he should. I hope he doesn't let them guilt him into staying.
Should I be concerned about them not letting us hang out anymore if he tries to live with me? Would they think I was trying to steal away their precious baby boy? I'm not sure if that's something they would have control over but it doesn't seem too farfetched.
They've literally never even met me, but I already know they don't like me. I don't think they like any of Kiba's friends though, so at least it's not just that they think I'm a particularly bad influence.
I think if we actually sat down and talked they would realize that I actually look out for Kiba a lot—that I'm worth keeping around.
"I've got to head to class," Kiba says after a while of flipping through his textbook. I nod in agreement.
We both pack up our things and part ways.
I head up to my room since I don't have another course until a little later. I debate on stopping at Sasuke's room, but that might seem excessive or obsessive. Instead, I head to the lounge and find my cousin in her usual hangout spot with a few of her girlfriends – Ino, Hinata, Sakura.
"Hey," I say, joining them. I sit on the arm of the chair Sakura is seated on.
"How's it going?" Karin asks.
"Good," I respond with a careless shrug. "I'm pretty ready for the year to end."
"Nearly there," Sakura jumps in with a smile.
"I know, fucking hell, then we'll be sophomores." I laugh. "It's going by so fast."
"Do you have plans for the summer?" Ino asks. "We were just trying to plan a few road trips."
I nod. "Yeah, I'm going to find my own place. I'm going to start looking around the time of finals and move in after the dorms close."
"It'll be weird not having you living under the same roof as me." Karin smiles. "But I can see why you wouldn't want to stay in the dorms again or move back home."
"It's just such a pain to have to move all my crap from place to place. I'd rather just take it to one apartment and leave it there for the next three years."
Karin nods her head. "Fair."
I don't actually have all that much shit, to be fair, but it is still an inconvenience.
"I'm trying to convince Kiba to live with me," I decide to add.
"Yeah?" Karin pries, looking interested.
"Yeah..." I say, somewhat taken aback. "Why are you giving me that look?"
She shrugs. "Just wondering. Kiba is kind of weird about spending the night away from home, isn't he? I can't see him wanting to move out."
"Yeah," I mumble. "You're right about that."
"I heard his parents were really strict," Ino notes.
"They are," I confirm, still annoyed over it. "They need to back off."
"Do you know why?" Sakura asks.
"Not really," I admit, "I think they're just overprotective or something. They think the nasty world of college is going to corrupt their perfect princess."
"Bitter much?" Karin laughs.
I don't mean to sound biting, but it's fucking infuriating to deal with. I'm not the only one who sees the weirdness in how they treat him.
"Hasn't it always kind of been that way?" Ino presses further. "It's probably just how his family is. Besides, I see him at parties and stuff so I can't imagine they're that bad."
I want to roll my eyes at that. Clearly she has no idea what she's talking about.
"Of course he goes to parties," I explain, "Who the fuck doesn't go to parties? He has to lie about it though and they last time his parents found out they lost their shit over it."
"Okay, calm the fuck down," Ino says, not taking any sass from me. "What did they do?"
"I don't even know," I mutter. "They're just fuckin' weirdos."
I feel like that's an understatement, but at the same time I don't even know his parents. I just know ABOUT them. I know the things he tells me and it's not much but it's enough for me to make an assumption that is fair. They are strict. Too strict. They make him feel bad about himself. I hate knowing that. It makes me even angrier that they raised him to be such a closed off person. He feels like he can't even tell his friends what's on his mind. It's such a shitty way to live.
I hope he gets over it. I hope he opens up. I hope he eventually feels like the world isn't going to end if he talks about his emotions.
I would like to be the person that he finally ends up talking to, but if not that's fine also. Anything would be better than what's happening right now.
"Anyway," I stand up from the chair I was seated in, "I have some stuff I have to get done, but I'll see you guys around."
Karin gives me a lopsided look. I think she knows that the whole situation with the apartment, Kiba, and his dumb-fuck parents is stressing me out even more than I'm letting on. Still, she doesn't say anything, but I can be sure she'll come ask me about it later.
"Have a nice afternoon," Sakura says sweetly, effectively putting an end to the conversation.
"See yah," I respond, waving to them all.
With that, I'm gone. Enough social time. I should get a little work done in my room before my next course later on.
I do some assigned readings, which is kind of a miracle because I never get that shit done in time. I flip through the hefty textbook, trying to soak in the extremely dull paragraphs. I hate reading – especially reading shit like this. I feel like I have to read it a million times before any of it sinks in.
When it's time for my next class, it's dim out. Since I pretty much always go to class in sweats, I don't bother putting sneakers on this time. I just slide on my slippers and head out. I must look like a bum, but university does that to people. A stressful environment makes people want to dress comfy. They kind of stop caring, as sad as it sounds.
I make it to the academic building on time and find my way to the lecture hall, taking my usual seat and pulling out my notebook. Now I just have to do my best not to fall asleep.
.
.
The next day, Kiba isn't on campus.
He also isn't replying to my text messages and that's making me nervous.
Usually on the days we don't have our business course together we meet up for coffee in the morning. When I didn't hear from him I went back to sleep—I figured he was running behind and accidentally slept through his alarm clock like I sometimes do. Then I didn't hear from him at lunch time either, which was weird. He never misses his Tuesday/Thursday courses.
In the evening, I decide to go to his house to check on him. It kind of worries me that he's not picking up. He always picks up. Hopefully he's just being a lazy ass, but yah never know.
I get into my car and make the trip to his house, hoping I remember the right one. I remember it had a fence because they have a big dog.
When I'm on his street, I drive slow until I spot the familiar property. I pull to the side of the road and park, getting out and walking up the driveway. As soon as I ring the doorbell, their massive dog starts barking. I can hear it from out here.
No answer.
I ring a few more times, getting impatient and concerned.
Finally I hear footsteps and the knob turns, the door opening just up to the length of the short chain that's keeping it locked.
"Kiba?" I ask as we make an uncomfortably long period of eye contact.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing here?" He sounds surprised as fuck as he fumbles to undo the chain.
As quickly as he opens the door the rest of the way, his mom appears at his side.
"Hello," she greets me, eyeing me up and down, "We weren't expecting you."
"Hi, I'm Naruto." I make the effort of introducing myself, even though she probably knows who I am by now. I only recognize her from the handful of times I saw her on the sidelines at our high school soccer games.
"Yes, I'm aware," she says. What a fuckin' bitch. She doesn't say nice to meet you or anything like that. I guess she wants me to cut to the chase. She probably wants me to get the hell out as soon as possible, but I'm not leaving just yet. I want to talk to Kiba. Preferably alone, but if she won't fuck off then I guess I'll figure something out.
"You weren't at school today," I say to Kiba, "and you weren't answering your phone, so I got worried."
"That's, uh, nice…" he says, shifting uncomfortable, "but I'm fine, as you can see."
"Can I come in?" I ask.
He glances at his mom like he's asking for her permission. It makes me want to fuckin' explode.
She looks back at Kiba, the scowl on her face making her annoyance obvious.
Then she turns back to me and sternly says, "Be quick about it."
She moves backward, making room in the doorway for me to enter the house. I step inside, making sure to close the door behind me, but as I do a small white dog from further down the hallway comes bumbling towards me.
"Oh wow," I say matter-of-factly when it reaches my feet, "I didn't know you had a puppy."
"That's because he's new," Kiba says awkwardly, "We just got him today."
Kiba bends down to pick the dog up. He struggles a bit at first, but after a moment settles into Kiba's arms.
He's tiny, white and fluffy with brown ears. He looks like a Great Pyrenees, but I can't be sure because I'm no dog expert.
"He's really cute," I comment.
"Yeah," Kiba agrees fondly. He stares down at the dog and looks starry-eyed, like he's totally in love. It IS a pretty damn cute dog.
"What's his name?" I ask.
"Akamaru," he says.
"So, what made you decide to get a puppy?" I pry.
Kiba shrugs and shuffles a bit, not offering up much of an answer. Maybe it's because his mom won't fuck off. I don't know. It's awkward as hell, though. She's making things tense. I think Kiba feels that way, too.
I glance over my shoulder at his mom. She's just standing there with her arms crossed looking all bitchy and overly critical of our conversation. I can tell that she knows that we want to be left alone, but she isn't taking the bait.
"Mom, it's okay…" Kiba tells her awkwardly.
She turns her gaze to him but doesn't budge. She just seems even more irritated now, like she thinks Kiba's undermining her authority or whatever.
It's fucking ridiculous. We should be able to have a fucking discussion about a dog without being monitored. It's not like we're talking about nuclear war plans here—we're not even talking about her, although there sure is a fuck ton I'd have to say about it if we were.
I think this is the first time I've been inside his house. I've never even stepped foot in his room. It's weird. His parents are weird. Honestly, they rub me the wrong way. She should just fuck off. If I don't get to talk to him here, I'll just find him at school the next week. No matter how much she wants me to go away, I'm not going to.
Kiba looks uncomfortable now. I think he's worried his mom is pissed off or something. I'm not trying to put him in a bad position or anything, I am just concerned and this whole situation is odd.
"What did you do today?" I pry.
"Nothing fun," he says vaguely.
"Kiba –" I start again, but he cuts me off.
"Look," he murmurs to me, "I just had a shitty day. I'll text you later."
"Fine…" I respond, feeling somewhat dejected. I came all this way for nothing, so it seems.
I open the front door and step out onto the porch. Fucking hell, I didn't even make it to their living room.
I turn around to say goodbye to Kiba but see that his mother is hovering over his shoulder again. It's so fucking unsettling.
"It was nice to finally meet you." I smile, although I'm sure she knows it's forced. "I'll talk to you later Kiba—I'm glad that you were okay and that I was worrying for nothing! It was nice to meet Akamaru."
"I'll see you tomorrow." Kiba nods. It's obvious he wants me to leave. "Thanks for checking in."
The door closes behind me pretty much immediately after I turn to leave. As I walk to my car, I can't help but feel uneasy about the whole interaction. I guess I'll know in the future not to show up unannounced.
.
.
Next week I head to Business and as soon as I see Kiba, he has his dog there with him.
"What the fuck is your dog doing here?" I ask, sitting next to him.
Instead of responding to me, he looks at me and says, "Never come to my house again. What the fuck was that?"
I'm taken aback. "Are you fucking kidding…?"
"No!" he hisses. "My mom was livid!"
"Why?" I practically exclaim. "That makes no sense! Why can't you have guests over? Are your parents that fucking controlling?"
"Yes!" he snaps. He pauses and sighs before adding, "Just… don't do it again."
"Fine," I mutter. "So, why is your dog here?" I ask again.
Kiba hesitates, like he's trying to think of what to say. "My parents wanted me to have him," he tells me finally, "For protection."
"Are you fucking joking me?" I ask in disbelief, "That thing can't be more than fifteen pounds. How the fuck is it going to protect you?"
"He's going to get big," Kiba tells me, "Like really big."
I glance under the desk at Akamaru. He's wearing a little vest. He's well behaved for being so young, but probably the least threatening dog I've ever seen. I seriously cannot imagine him fighting off anything—not even a cat.
"So what? He's like, a 'protection' service dog? Is that why you can have him in class?" I ask incredulously, "Because that sounds fucking fake."
"Kind of," Kiba pauses for a little bit too long, "He's a service dog of sorts. That's what I told the professors at least. They're not really allowed to ask questions."
"Why do you need him though?" I press, "What the fuck is going to happen to you during class?"
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Kiba bites back at me, "My parents wanted me to have him so I do."
Before I can respond, Kakashi walks into class. He's about ten minutes late. He apologizes and makes up some stupid excuse before getting down to business.
Me and Kiba will probably pick this up after class unless he makes a quick escape. He might try to, now that I think about it. That's what he tried to do last time.
Kiba takes notes when the lecture begins. I try to take some, too, but I'm distracted as hell.
Sasuke isn't here. Again. By now it seems expected. I wonder if Karin knows what's going on with him… not that she'd ever tell me. I think Sasuke is the kind of person to hold a mean grudge and if someone betrayed his trust, he'd make them feel like the worst shit about it.
How much he's been gone is enough to make me feel like something is seriously wrong though. God damn, I feel like I'm having a fucking crisis over whatever this is. I just can't seem to let it go.
I don't know why I feel the need to focus so much on other people's issues. I could say that I just want to help, but that makes me sound self-important, like I know how to fix everything. On the other hand I could say that I'm just curious to know, but then I'm fucking nosy.
Honestly, I am nosy. I guess the stunt I pulled last week showing up at Kiba's house proved that—although I really was just worried.
I guess it's a mix of things, but I know I tend to overstep my bounds at times. I think Sasuke and Kiba would both agree on that because I've done it to them both many times in the recent past.
I just want them to be okay. I want to KNOW that they're okay. Then I'd be able to let things go… but there's this nagging sensation that keeps telling me things aren't okay. That's why I can't let it go. It's not really my business, but I'm still going nuts here.
I zone out for most of class and when it's over, I toss my shit in my bag and stand up, waiting for Kiba to get his shit together so I can bug him a little more. That sounds so dickish of me, but whatever.
The classroom empties and Kiba takes his sweet time. With a grumble, I move ahead and wait by the door. Kakashi is at the front erasing the whiteboard for the next session.
"Kakashi?" I say his name.
"Hm?" he asks, pausing and glancing over at me.
"Where is Sasuke lately?" I pry.
"I don't know," he admits.
Well, that sucks. I guess if Kakashi knew more than that he wouldn't be able to tell me anyway due to confidentiality and all that, but at least then I would know that Sasuke got his shit taken care of and talked to student services about accommodations or something.
Finally, Kiba is ready to leave and we head out of the classroom.
"What were you talking to the professor about?" he asks, Akamaru's leash looped around his forearm.
"I wanted to know if he had heard from Sasuke," I admit.
"Oh jeez you're on that again?" he replies, only half joking. "You know the professors can't tell you information about other students."
"I know that. I just wanted to know if he had heard anything at all."
Kiba twists his mouth and shrugs. I know he still doesn't give a fuck, but he could at least pretend to be a little concerned for my sake.
We grab coffee and then head to my room to waste time until Kiba's next class.
"I'm nearly done with my Business assignment," he tells me.
"That's good," I say. "I still need to do a little more work on mine…"
He starts telling me about what he did his project on, but I don't really care. Nonetheless, I listen. I don't want to be a total dick since he seems pretty pleased with himself. When he's done, I'll start asking the questions I want to ask.
"I think I'm going to get a good mark," he finishes.
"You probably will," I agree. "So, hey, about the dog –"
He rolls his eyes, scoffing. "Drop it, Naruto. I don't really know why you're such a nosy asshole all the time, but I'm getting fed up."
Well that stings.
"Because I care," I point out, annoyed at how sour he's being.
"I know you do and that's sweet and all but you have to know when to let things go," he says, picking Akamaru off the floor and putting him in his lap.
"Dude just answer my questions about the dog," I groan. "Then I'll stop pestering you."
"Fine, whatever," Kiba relents.
Ugh. Finally.
"So he's a service dog?" I start.
Kiba nods.
"That your parents wanted you to have for 'protection?'"
"You already know all this," he snorts, sounding annoyed.
I reach out and pat Akamaru on the head, "Then he's not actually a real service dog, is he? They have to be registered and everything, right?"
Kiba looks uncomfortable, "No, he is…"
"He's legitimately registered as a protection service dog?" I want to believe him, but this founds fake as fuck, "That's a thing you can do?"
He shrugs, "I guess."
"But why do YOU need a service dog?" I ask. "I mean… not just anyone can get a service dog. They need to be specially trained and shit, right? What is Akamaru trained for?"
Kiba's jaw tightens and he looks like he's teetering on how much he wants to tell me.
Instead of prying and pushing, I sit silently and wait for him to respond. It's quiet for what feels like a long time.
"It's like…" he pauses, trailing off before picking back up again. "It's like… if something sets me off, he'll know."
"Like a trigger?" I pry, wanting a more concrete answer instead of the vague shit he's giving me.
He lets out a sigh. "Yes, like a trigger…"
Kiba is the last person I would expect to need something like that.
"You're more in control of your emotions than like, anyone I know," I say in disbelief. "The only time I've ever seen you openly upset about something is when you're like, drunk off your ass."
"Well, it hasn't really…I don't think you've seen it, you know?" he mutters. His cheeks are red and he looks embarrassed as hell.
I seriously want to pull my hair out. I have no idea what to say to him because he's giving me literally nothing to go off of and it's fucking infuriating to feel like you know jack shit about your best friend.
"Okay," I take a deep breath, "So what does Akamaru do? What does it look like when he's 'working,' y'know? How can I help if I'm around when that happens?"
I'm just trying to be support, but I don't think it's working because Kiba looks absolutely fucking mortified to be having this conversation.
"I don't know," he mumbles.
"Come on, man," I say gently. "Give me something."
"He'll… try to get me out of situations," Kiba starts. "He's trained to sense if I'm panicking. He'll distract me or create disruptions to keep me grounded or he'll try to remove me from certain situations. Like, if he senses that I'm freaking out then he will start barking and shit to give me an excuse to leave."
I nod my head slowly as I follow along. "Smart dog…"
"Yeah," Kiba agrees, putting a hand on Akamaru. "He's been great so far…"
"So… are you in therapy?"
"Sorta," Kiba murmurs. "Not regular sessions, though."
"Are you, like, okay?" I pry.
He snorts back a laugh. "Not really."
This sucks. This really fucking sucks. I thought that all of Kiba's problems stemmed from his parents being overprotective and controlling, but if he went to a doctor and they got him this dog, they're probably actually trying to help whatever this is get better, right? I don't even know what to make of this. I need to rework all the facts, but all the facts are telling me is that I don't understand fucking jack shit about what's going on.
"Can I help at all?" I offer. I don't really know what else to say.
"Um," Kiba mumbles, "I don't think so. Not really—sorry."
"So having Akamaru is good for you, yeah?" I wonder aloud, "Well, I'm really glad he's here then."
"Yeah," is all Kiba says.
"Did you get a diagnosis?" I ask. Maybe it's the wrong question to ask, but I sincerely want to know. I feel like this will help me to understand some of what is going on in his life. Honestly, that's all I want. I just want to understand. I don't want to make things worse for him. I feel like I might've done that in the past.
"Yeah," he says again. "I kind of had a feeling, though. I didn't even need to hear a doctor confirm it."
I nod, urging him to continue.
He glances at me and then glances away, staring down at Akamaru. I feel bad that he looks so uncomfortable.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I add.
"PTSD," he murmurs.
I frown at that. Shit. That's serious.
"What are your triggers?" I ask. "I don't want to trigger you."
He shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about that." Before I can argue he puts up a hand and adds, "You won't trigger me. Seriously. Don't worry about it."
I don't know how he could possibly be so sure that I'll never say or do anything that will set him off, but I guess for the time being I'll have to take his word for it.
"Is it okay if I pet Akamaru?" I ask, wanting to be cautious, "I know some you're not supposed to touch some service dogs."
"Um, I think it's okay." Kiba tells me, rubbing behind his pup's ears, "I guess just don't if he's ever doing any of the behaviours I was describing before."
"Like bothering you to leave with him?"
Kiba nods, "Yeah, or like, licking my face or circling around me. Sorry, it might be confusing since it's meant to be kind of discreet. Hopefully something like that will never happen with you around anyway."
I shrug. "Even if it did, I'd want you to tell me, y'know? I wouldn't want you to feel all weird about it and shit."
"Yeah, yeah," he murmurs dismissively.
"Kiba?"
"Hm?"
"Like…" I trail off, unsure how to ask what I want to ask next. "What happened to you?"
He makes a face. "I don't really want to talk about that, Naruto."
"Okay," I say, letting it go. "Sorry. I probably seem nosy, but I won't push. If you ever want to talk about it, though… I'll always listen."
"Thanks," he mutters.
I doubt he'll ever tell me. I wonder if anyone knows. I wonder if he even spoke to his therapist about whatever the hell happened to him. Do his parents know? They must. Is this why they're so damn extra all the time?
"Thanks for telling me all of this." I say, and I mean it. I feel a lot closer to him. I'll be better at supporting him now.
"Yeah, I don't know how I was really planning to hide it from you anyway," he mumbles, still seeming embarrassed. "I should probably head out now. I have to meet with my professor in her office to talk about having a dog in class."
"Alright, I'll see you around." I give Akamaru one last pat. "Message me if you want to talk more."
"I will," Kiba says, picking up his backpack. I know it's unlikely, but I really hope he does.
Without another word he opens my door and lets himself out, Akamaru trailing behind him.