Funny, I was expecting a plot bunny for Witch Hunter Robin to bite me before Wolf's Rain. Thats ok though, this will be a fun fic to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. I loved the ending to Wolf's Rain; it was open to interpretation, and since I just got done with a religion class, finding an interp to take wasn't all that hard.

"Ah, so there's trouble in paradise, eh?"

The boy stiffened up, stopping in his tracks by the chess playing grounds in the local park.

"Yeah, but when isn't there trouble in somebody's paradise? I'm not the first, and I won't be the last to find it and lose it in the same breath."

Kiba turned to stare at the men playing chess, breath stilled in his lungs. Something in his heart hearkened to what these men were saying, and it all had started with the word 'paradise'. He had heard the word before, it was everywhere. People strove to make their own little paradises within themselves, or their little corner of the world; and every company was out to help them do it, for a price.

"Wise words my friend. Have you tried flowers? Work's wonders, ya know."

"Nah. I'm not sure I deserve paradise, Qwent, you know? Maybe men just weren't meant to have it."

Why was this so deeply meaningful to him? He knew that the man was speaking of nothing more than a marriage, or a relationship gone wrong. But it felt like if he dug deep enough, if he peeled enough layers from the initial meaning, he could figure it out. It seemed they were done, as the man called Qwent moved his last piece into position and sat back, a smug smile on his face.

"Mate, Hubb. Sorry, but I beat you again."

In disbelief, the man surveyed the board thoroughly until he had determined that the trap he'd been caught in could not be slipped out of. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, grabbing his coat and hat. "You always win anyway."

"You've got to learn to stalk the prey, be patient enough and learn how to detect the enemy." Qwent chuckled. "Be good advice for you're wife, too."

"Oh be quiet."

Kiba shoved his hands back in his pockets, feeling even more confused then he'd been when he started his walk. His life had felt rather strange of late, as if he'd seen something else. The other day, he'd caught a glance of the sunset, as the sky flared it's brightest, setting off all of the fireworks that it could before allowing the moon and stars to take their places. He'd stood on the building of his apartment complex, watching the sun sink into the horizon, and nearly wept at its beauty. It was strange; he normally was not so emotional. When he'd tried to describe it to someone, a complete stranger on the train, the woman had told him that it was his teenaged hormones, and that he'd get over it. Mood swings are a bitch, she'd said, take it from a lady.

He had no question about the bitch qualities of mood swings. But this wasn't a feeling that came and went. Something tugged at his heart, nestled in his throat. Even while staring at the news that came from halfway across the world, of death, and destruction; terrorists and wars and mass graves from long ago being exhumed, all he'd have to do was catch a breeze in his hair, and everything was all right.

He hadn't told anyone that; afraid that they would call him heartless or uncaring. He cared but something in his soul made him believe that things evened out in the end. For every evil there was a good; for every disaster a miracle.

No matter how many times he told himself this, though, that the world was right as it was, he still felt…out of place. Like he was the only one that saw this rightness, alone in being content with the world as it was. Alone in feeling that this was…paradise, in a quiet, sort of unobtrusive way. An old woman selling flowers had stopped him on the street one day, seeming to sense his displacement. He still remembered the conversation.

"You are the lone wolf."

He had been very surprised. Certainly, he'd been called a lone wolf before, but never by a stranger.

"Er…"

The woman had smiled and taken a small satchel from the back of her stand, pressing it into his numb hands. "Here, take this, Kiba. They are lunar flowers; they bring luck to those who can grow them."

"I was never…uh…very good with plants…" he had mumbled at the time, dumbfounded until his mind scrambled for an explanation. His name was embroidered into his jacket on the sleeve; she must have seen that; though she had never taken her eyes off his face.

"Never mind that. You're spirit will grow them, and they will keep this paradise we call earth moving a little smoother." She shooed him away. "Just water them, and save the seeds. You will see, they will bloom into the most beautiful flowers you've seen."

He was abruptly brought back to the present as a motorcyclist nearly ran into him.

"Hey!" cried the man, wearing more leather than he had any right to in high summer. "Why don't you come out of your daydream and keep your head on the ground!?"

Kiba sidestepped the man, staring. An X-shaped scar stood out pale on his otherwise tan chest. Not wanting to cause any trouble, he muttered an apology, averting his eyes, and hurried the rest of the way across the street, head slipping back into it's thoughts. That had been nearly four weeks ago, and the flower had been sitting on a bud for three days now. He had a feeling it was going to bloom today.

He again came back to reality as a shoulder met his. Gasping, he turned to find a boy about his age dressed in a dilapidated yellow hoodie, his hair mussed, eyes seeming to express confusion as to why his forward momentum had suddenly been altered. "Sorry." He muttered.

"Hey, no problem!" the boy said, and took a large bite out the sandwich he held in his hand. Kiba nodded and continued on, starting to jog in anticipation. Something about seeing the flower excited him; he was very curious.

When he reached his single room dorm, he found nothing. The bud still sat, plump but not inclined to open. Kiba sighed and sat down, slumping against the wall, staring listlessly out the window. The second floor apartment was a perfect spot for people watching. In the rain that had started to fall, someone had set out a box, filled with three fluffy kittens. Kiba sighed; he hated it when people did that. A boy seemed to have taken to them though, crouching near them and picking them up, mewling, one at a time. Kiba smiled, watching the boy hold the umbrella over the box as he played with the young cats, his eyes slowly drifting shut.

There, your first chapter. I don't expect this to be too terribly long, maybe one or two more chapters. Yes, the similarity to the ending of the last episode is intentional (how could it not be?)

Please review, even just to put a smiley face to let me know I've go readers!