4/12/20 Edit: smoothing

Wrangled up a cover image. It's been a while since I actually finished any art-type thing, I might be possessed. Consider it the champagne bottle on the hull. This is now officially a Story™.

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5. Start Your Engines

Green. Such bright green.

How did she glow so bright? Even the spikes of pain scorching up his middle were somewhat dulled in her light.

"Breathe."

He breathed.

"I've got you, hold on."

He breathed.

Her energy burned through him. A century passed. Civilizations fell.

He breathed.

Red-hot agony clawed at his airways, his brain. His vision narrowed.

The last thing he saw was her glow.

"—see him in my office at some point when he gets out of here."

"I will, Hokage-sama."

Kiba surfaced to consciousness as the door to his hospital room slid shut. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that Neji was sitting next to his bed and Tsunade had just left the room. Kiba basked in this confirmation that he had once again told Death to suck a dick. He decided to keep pretending his untimely demise just to rub it in Death's face.

"What's up, Sleeping Beauty?"

Kiba silently cursed Neji's impeccable observation skills, and turned his head to look at him. The Hyuuga was leaning back in his chair with arms crossed, as if he routinely sat at Kiba's bedside. His expression was a study in neutrality. Kiba's throat felt dusty, and he cast his gaze around until it landed on a water cup resting on the tray table hovering over his knees. He struggled up onto an elbow to take a careful sip, becoming very aware of the tenderness in his abdomen as his bandages pulled. Neji watched him silently.

Kiba cleared his throat and said, "Um", as his eloquence knew no bounds.

Neji snorted gently. "You survived, obviously. We used the emergency transport scroll to get you back here. Sakura damn near fully patched you in the field, but Tsunade-sama went through and double-checked anyway." Neji flicked his head at the IV pole. "They're running antibiotics to make sure you don't go septic."

Kiba nodded, engaging both arms to haul himself into more of a sitting position against his pillows. Neji continued. "I brought those bodies back with us per protocol. Zero ID of course, but Forensics is digging in to see what they can come up with. Tsunade-sama is opening correspondence with Kusagakure since it happened on their turf, make sure they're in the loop on this."

Kiba's thoughts sauntered into conspiracy territory. Hot damn, maybe prick daimyo was a bad guy. Maybe he could get paid to gank the fucker. Neji was still talking. "Hopefully the bomb fragments tell more of a story. The third enemy disappeared. I was on his tail, then nothing. Might have been a clone."

Kiba cleared his throat again. "So you're sayin' we know jack-shit right now."

Neji nodded, then leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. "There's something you can tell me, off the record." He lowered his voice. "It may have been quick, but you lost it back in Kusagakure. What the hell was that?"

Kiba didn't know what to tell him, because frankly it was goddamn embarrassing conduct for someone trying to wow superiors with his professionalism.

Neji stared him down. "Look, I don't need details. But if you want to be a captain, you have to learn to keep your shit locked down. It didn't affect the mission this time, but it only takes one time to make you or your teammate dead."

Kiba directed a scowl at the sheets bunched around his legs. He knew all that, knew Neji had his back by reminding him, but the shame of his mistake rankled worse than the pain of his stab-domen.

Neji stood up. "You've got what it takes, Kiba. But we are humans, and emotional control is a constant practice. I'd be happy to teach you some meditative breathing techniques. Just let me know." He flicked his fingers to his forehead in a casual salute, then headed for the door.

Kiba grunted after him. Breathing had certainly seemed to help when he was getting a jagged hunk of metal dragged out of his side... but truthfully, it was Sakura's presence he'd been focused on and clung to. That he'd already been focused on; he'd reacted instinctively when the attack descended, well aware she wasn't paying full attention as so much of his attention had been fixated on her. Also worth noting was the matter of him reacting instinctively when he'd caught the scent of another man mingling with hers. Really, a scary amount of his reactivity lately could be directly attributed to Sakura. This was a very telling development, as he'd previously been able to tamp down on these urges around her. His body was making the choice for him.

Do or die.

Kiba relaxed back against his pillows. He'd already passed on dying, but there was nothing he could do until he got out of here… unless she stopped by for a visit. Hopefully not, as Kiba suspected even his massive charm would suffer from the tragedy of being filthy and trussed up in a hospital bed.

His head jerked up as the door opened again, but it was only his sister. Hana whisked her bulk into the room and bustled over to grab his head, smothering him with affection.

"Gah, 'm fine!" Kiba tried to pry her hands off. Hana held him tighter, planting kisses in his dirty hair. Kiba growled at her and she loosened her hold a little, but kept him cradled to her bosom.

"It's the mom hormones," she murmured, snuffling his hair like she used to do when he was little, "Can't help it."

"How'd you even know I was here?" Kiba grumbled, giving in and allowing himself to be babied.

Hana rocked him slowly. "I was here on prenatal business, but Hyuuga Neji caught me in the hall. Figured your family might be concerned about your well-being."

Kiba's scowl came back. He had a few comments about what his family could do with their concerns, but kept his mouth shut. Hana was an innocent party in the matchmaking dispute, and he'd already forgiven her for laughing when the old bitch grabbed his man parts. He'd have laughed too if it had happened to some other poor bastard.

Hana sighed into his hair. "I know you can't tell me anything, but I wanted to put eyes on you. And a nose." She snuffled him again. Kiba huffed a quiet laugh, leaning his head into her until she was satisfied.

"I'm fine. Honest," he said, giving her a half-smile when she finally let go. "We had a medic."

Hana nodded, brushing his hair with her fingers as Kiba lay back on his pillows again. "Good. Let me know if you need anything, or want me to sneak in some better food." She kissed his forehead and turned to go, but paused at the door to look back at him. "Also, best to keep avoiding the house when you get out of here if possible. Hachiko is still at large, and Akamaru reports she's been interrogating the female masses."

Kiba's scowl zipped back into place and veered homicidal. It was just one goddamn thing after another.

Sakura was facedown on her kitchen table. The mission report she'd been hacking away at scorned her with its papery judgments. It had been smooth sailing until she got to the part where she'd been planning to call Boar out for his momentary loss of control.

All ninja were taught that emotions got in the way of mission success and were better off left at home with other valuables. ANBU in particular were vilified for any foul-ups on the emotional front. The severity of their mission objectives required absolute subjugation of their humanity, and even though it was for a span of mere seconds, Boar had fucked up. Something made his control snap. But now she knew that Boar was Kiba, so logically she had a good chance of being able to contextualize the incident. Knowing who he was also made her more inclined to try to understand the cause instead of just busting his balls. And yet…

Sakura had been stewing for days, but felt no closer to a verdict. Boar-Kiba had reacted to Sougen, but all Sougen was guilty of was flirting with her, and why on earth would that set Kiba off? Kiba was the grand emperor of Flirt Kingdom, patent holder of the come hither stare. It didn't make sense. It was the kind of behavior she regularly dealt with from Naruto and company when men gave her the eye. But Naruto and company were her family. Kiba was her friend. Friends don't cockblock. And if a friend were to cockblock, well… There had been a few occasions when Ino had tripped Sakura up on her way to getting down in Nasty Town, but all directly because Ino had been there, done that, and thrown out the T-shirt because it tried to stick it in her butt without asking. Kiba didn't know Sougen at all, and as Kiba had never previously taken an interest in her sex life, he had no reason to interfere. Unless…

That train of reasoning ended in a very logical answer that Sakura was unwilling to accept. Because it didn't make sense.

Bitch, it makes perfect sense. He's into you.

Sakura ground her forehead into the table with a groan. The voice in her head was all too influenced by her recent bout of horny idiocy, it would seem. The wishful thinking was taking on a perverse tone of sincerity that she didn't want to dissect.

If she dared to be honest, what she was really struggling with was what happened during the attack. The whole sex moron image of Kiba she'd been trying to build in her mind had been apocalyptically shaken. Sakura had always known he was a skilled fighter, but Kiba had moved through combat with preternatural ease and ended all necessary lives in the vicinity with exquisite efficiency. He'd pulled back the shroud on his true form, that of a young death god in his prime. He was breathtaking. And he'd saved her life. It could be argued that this was a typical practice amongst comrades in the line of duty, but Sakura should've been cognizant enough to save her own damn skin. Instead, the death god had spared her the trouble and laid waste to their enemies without missing a beat.

All things considered, this was blowing through all her emotional checks and balances because, it could not be stressed enough, BECAUSE… they were just friends. Friends. FRIENDS. These were not friend-related feelings. These feelings were, as the kids say, hella wack. Sakura needed forms filled out in triplicate before she let feelings like this start to percolate, and Kiba was dumping all those papers in a trashcan and lighting a match. The gods were clearly damning her, but Sakura had no idea which of her sins had landed her in this shitty purgatory.

She needed some air. Her mission report wasn't going anywhere. There was a new coffee shop a few streets away with a chocolate cake in the window that had been screaming her name. Time for Operation Dessert Murder.

Given Konoha's temperate climate, most of the restaurants in the area had patio seating, so Sakura settled at a two-top near the door after she ordered. She tried to enjoy the breeze and concentrate on the book she'd brought for company. The waitress delivered a decadent slice of dark chocolate goodness and a latte. Sakura stabbed her fork into the cake's moist flesh and partook of the tasty sacrifice, plowing through half the slice in under a minute. Endorphins flooded her system. The steamed milk on top of her latte was poured in a little smiley face. Sakura's mood began to improve.

Then a husky voice called her name. She turned her head and there was Kiba, the source of her disturbance, sliding into the chair next to her like she'd been saving it for him. He wasn't wearing his jacket, just his undershirt, so she was treated to front-row seats at the gun show. His eyes were alight, hair still wet from the shower, and since when did he smell this good? It wasn't a particular scent, which made it more likely that it was just him. Her stomach clenched, and she clutched her fork for dear life.

Kiba slipped his arm over the back of her chair, grazing his fingers across her back. Then he leaned over, reaching for her face with his other hand. Sakura froze, save for her heart, which began doing a serviceable impression of a jackhammer. Kiba held her gaze as he leaned forward, and she felt a rough finger brush firmly over her lower lip. Kiba brought the finger to his own mouth and swiped the tip of his tongue over it with unchaste slowness.

"Had some icing there." His tone was intimate, his gaze provocative. Then he gave her the sexiest shit-eating grin she'd ever witnessed and Sakura's heart nearly beat its way out of her ribcage. She licked her own lip instinctively, finding the last traces of sweetness. Kiba's eyes traced the movement, and heat surged in her veins.

"Discharged already! Wow!" Her voice came out far louder than it needed to, considering how close Kiba was sitting. Sakura looked back at her cake like it could help her be less of a damn fool. "That's so great. Most people take a lot longer to fully heal."

She felt his warm breath on her neck, could hear the grin in his voice. "Just naturally gifted, I guess. But it was mostly you, Doc."

Sakura saw an opportunity to leap to safer territory and sat forward in her seat, inching away from his arm. Then she snaked the hand that didn't have her fork in a death grip over to his abdomen, avoiding his eyes as she prodded his bandaged midriff.

"You should probably still take it easy," Sakura said, preparing to roll out her well-trodden Doctor Sakura Says lecture, but Kiba cut her off at the pass, folding her hand in his larger one and stroking his callused thumb over her knuckles.

"Easy? I like it rough." His voice was hot sin in her ear. The arm on the back of her chair slipped down to hook her waist, and suddenly Kiba was pressed against her from thigh to shoulder. He dropped her hand and slid his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to his, and there was nowhere for her to look but his wild eyes.

"Remind me again why we never gave this a try?" He spoke directly to her lips, tender butterfly touches that made her dizzy.

The voice in her head cackled, Ooh girl, you are in so much trouble.

Kiba was a goddamned idiot. Many had told him so, and today he finally agreed.

As soon as the possibility of leaving the hospital had floated his way, Kiba was out like he'd been shot from a cannon. He'd dashed to and through his house at roadrunner speed, pausing only to grab clean clothes and plant a sloppy smooch on Hana's cheek. Then he'd hustled over to Shino's place. Shino wasn't home, so Kiba had broken in to use his shower, because what's a little misdemeanor between friends? He'd scrubbed off hospital/blood/sweat, dried himself at top speed, clothed, brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he left there (smart), then he was out the door again (window, rather). It was time to stick to his guns.

Kiba had flirted with a nurse to get her to squeal about Sakura's schedule, so he knew she wouldn't be at the hospital and headed towards her apartment. He caught fresh scent before he got there. It led him to a cutesy coffee place that was made largely more appealing by her presence on its patio. She was engrossed in a book, one leg crossed over the other, foot tapping the air, fork poised for another bite. The wind was playing in her hair and she had chocolate on her face. Kiba felt his smile stretch a million miles wide. By the benevolence of fates and café managers alike, a convenient chair was already in place, and Kiba planted his sweet ass in it like he was born to sit there.

Sakura looked at him, half in surprise and half in resignation. This was a tiny curveball, as Kiba had been anticipating full surprise, but he didn't hesitate to invade her personal bubble. The icing on her face was just icing on the metaphorical cake (and the real one, naturally). Sakura's lip was soft. Kiba stroked his finger across it slowly enough to feel her breathing accelerate, and her eyes grew three sizes. Bringing his tongue into play markedly upped the ante, but Kiba was playing to win. Sakura rewarded him by flushing like she had heatstroke.

"Had some icing there." His voice came out deep and rough without any effort. He was going to lose the thread in a minute if she kept looking at him like that. Sakura glanced away and Kiba shifted nearer, but then a distressing smell crept into his nostrils around Sakura's lovely essence. He looked over her head and saw the stuff of nightmares: Auntie Hachiko was halfway down the block from the coffee shop.

Kiba had made a habit of keeping his nose on alert for the old woman everywhere he went, but she'd approached from downwind. This wouldn't have stopped him clocking her any other time, as Kiba's nose was the best in the biz, but he'd been willingly drowning himself in Sakura.

Mother-effing-fucker.

The Archfiend turned her infernal gaze his direction, and adrenaline shot through him. Time slowed way the hell down. Then Kiba felt Sakura's fingers pressing into his stomach and realized the fates had gift-wrapped his ticket out of hell with a pretty pink bow. He was already here to make moves, and now the moves were dual purpose. The convenience was astounding.

Sakura was telling him to take it easy. Well, taking her hand and pulling her close was the easiest thing in the world, bullshit line sliding out of his mouth like clockwork. But when he tipped her face up, her eyes caught him in deep green depths, and Kiba found himself speaking his true thoughts out loud.

"Remind me again why we never gave this a try?"

Their lips were so close they were sharing breath. Sakura's pupils started to dilate, and without thinking Kiba leaned a millimeter further to press her sweet lips to his. Then Sakura sighed, melting into him as her eyelids lowered, and Kiba completely forgot about impending doom. Hell, he forgot his own damn name, forgot everything that wasn't this woman burning against him. He angled his head to kiss her more thoroughly, fingers gliding along her jaw into her hair. She moaned a little and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. Kiba felt her tongue brush his lips and immediately plunged his own forward to taste her. There was nothing else in the universe at that moment but her mouth and her tongue moving against his.

At least, not until Satan rocked up next to their table in a little old lady suit.

"Kiba dear! So lovely to see you." Auntie Hachiko's tone was airy, as if she was meeting him for tea rather than intruding on an increasingly heavy make-out session. Kiba unsealed his mouth from Sakura's and stared at her. The woman had balls of steel.

Hachiko's eyes were shrewd as she took in the scene she'd interrupted. Sakura turned slightly toward their onlooker, and Kiba felt her stiffen in his arms as the old lady hit her with that intrusive appraisal. Kiba noticed Hachiko peer down at his lap, specifically at where Sakura's hand had naturally come to rest on his thigh when he dropped it earlier.

'Smooth' was one of Kiba's many middle names, so he sat back in his chair to meet the scrutiny head on, keeping Sakura tight against his side. He placed his other hand securely over hers on his leg, breezy as you please.

"Auntie, hey! Yeah, I've been busy." Kiba tried to sound pleasant. It wasn't that difficult, likely because he still had Sakura on his tongue, which was a pretty serious mood-brightener. He felt her fingers flex under his palm and stroked the side of her wrist, then felt the tiny intake of breath this caused in his other hand. He chased it, spreading his possessive grasp on the curve of her waist, and her breathing accelerated again as he pressed his fingers individually against her. Kiba couldn't help but grin. "You know, missions and stuff."

Auntie Hachiko gazed at them, lips pursed. "I see," she said, like she knew what he really meant when he said busy (which was, for once, not the case). Then she focused on Sakura again. "And who is this charming young lady?"

Sakura's fingers dug painfully into his leg, and Kiba turned his head to look at her. Her lovely features were etched with mortification. But he was still punch-drunk, so he widened his smile to show more fang and said, "This is Sakura." And because one of Kiba's other middle names was 'fucking stupid', he followed this with, "She's my girlfriend."

Sakura's embarrassment was swamped by a tide of rage, and she dug her nails into his leg so hard she drew blood. It hurt. Inconveniently, it was also super hot.

"Oh ho!" Auntie Hachiko exclaimed, clapping her hands, "How wonderful! Tell me, my dear, is this a new romance? Or…"

Sakura turned to him. Her eyes were chartreuse with fury, but she was keeping her cool for some reason. Kiba brushed Sakura's nose with his, deliberately shifting his gaze down to her mouth, then back as he grinned like a wolf. "It's pretty serious, actually."

"Someone should have mentioned this to me! This oversight shall have to be rectified. And even if this young woman does not want to be your breeding partner, she must be part of the picture!"

The mention of breeding wrenched Kiba's attention back to the demon aunt, who was now clasping her hands and trilling, "Auntie has been finding a great many young ladies for you, all agreeable and very willing to give you offspring." The old woman turned her vile eyes on Kiba, cooing, "Aren't you a lucky boy, my dear?"

Luck gave Kiba the middle finger, said "Peace", and kick-flipped into space. Hachiko gave Sakura a sickening smile. "And of course you must join in proceedings if you would like, dear."

Sakura's back straightened dangerously under Kiba's arm. The heat of her glare on the side of his face would be downright enjoyable if it were cold outside. Her voice came out sharp enough to cut glass. "Of course. I would be absolutely delighted."

Sakura slid out of his hands as she rose slowly to her feet. Kiba let her, well aware he'd been pushing his luck since before that bastard left him for dead. Then Sakura's body moved into his field of view, shielding him from the devil. Before he could even blink, Sakura stepped as close as she could, grabbed him by the ears, and tugged his face up to press her mouth to his again. She kissed him soundly and pulled back, eyes searching his speculatively. Kiba stared back at her, dumbfounded.

Then she breathed "You cagey piece of shit" against his lips, and shoved her tongue in his mouth hard enough to blow his goddamn mind. Kiba was an expert tongue wrestler, but Sakura had him in a submission hold from the get go. She tipped his head back further and sank her teeth into his lower lip. When Kiba gasped, she plundered his mouth again with her hot tongue, kissing him with force that could register on the Richter scale. Desire arrowed straight to his groin. Kiba felt his pants start to tighten. Sakura sucked his tongue into her mouth and his hands clamped onto her thighs, sliding up to her hips like they were bewitched.

But all too soon, Sakura was releasing his lips with a little sigh and saying loudly, "I've gotta go. Bye, honey." She left him to collapse in his chair like he'd been deboned as she whirled to pick up her book. Then she discreetly glared daggers at him, bobbed a polite bow at Auntie Hachiko, and disappeared.

Kiba felt like a man unhinged. He was dazed as all hell and unabashedly erect. Luck seemed to have left a small dose of fortune as a parting gift, since Auntie Hachiko continued staring after Sakura and didn't notice his lunacy or his tented pants.

Kiba could readily admit that this whole afternoon had unraveled in ways he couldn't even begin to anticipate. Sakura played a convincing lamb, but no amount of sheep's clothing could contain the lioness within. There was a lot to process, though one thing was now very clear: she wanted him. Kiba had smelled her desire as she turned to leave, which had channeled more blood to his dick even as she stabbed him with her eyes.

Also, he'd had that extremely enticing woman in his arms, and he'd treated her like a handy pawn to glaze over some clan bullshit.

He was truly the goddamn dumbest person in the world.

Auntie Hachiko gave an awful little chuckle and said, "What a feisty girl. We must try to convince her to accept your seed, my dear."

This disgusting comment was a direct hit. Kiba's boner deflated instantly. He wondered vaguely whether his gut wound would split open if he barfed too hard, and considered that if it did, he probably deserved it.

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This chapter was brought to you by a heavy dose of Adore You by Harry Styles. I will now commit seppuku for the shame I have brought upon my house.