Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review. I've noticed that some fics have hundreds of reviews to every chapter, but I'm just excited to read the few I get for this story. I really, really appreciate it.


Kiba smelled… he smelled nice. Like fresh dirt and morning rain and faint traces of aftershave. Hinata was sure that no one else could smell so much like dirt and still so good. She thought about her fiancé, of how it would feel to stand close to him, if it would feel the same or nothing like standing beside Kiba at all. Hinata opted for "nothing like standing beside Kiba at all."

I can still stand next to him, even after... But would it feel the same? Hinata didn't know. What she knew were Kiba's hands, large and calloused and warm, and Kiba's grin, and Kiba's short yet wildly tousled hair.

"Heh, that Naruto," he'd once said after they'd witnessed another one of Naruto's inexplicable victories. "He sure doesn't give up! I guess you can't help but admire a guy like that." Hinata had been in the middle of blushing at her too-obvious feelings for the energetic blond when Kiba had turned to her, eyes suddenly earnest and impossibly tender. "But you know, Hinata. I'm not so different from that guy. I'm loud and I like ramen, too, and I'd… I'd never give up on you, Hinata."

They'd both known that Kiba was no substitute for Naruto. They both knew that there was really no one like Naruto at all. But Hinata found that there was really no one like Kiba, either. No other would try so hard to make her smile, or do things so purely for her enjoyment. And more and more she'd begun to realize the question in Kiba's eyes whenever his grin was directed toward her. Do you like me? Circle yes or no. Hinata had found herself awake some nights tracing an unfamiliar tingling in the pit of her belly. She'd imagined that the slow patterns her fingers trailed were encircling a Yes buried deep inside her.

Hinata knew Kiba, but she also knew her father's eyes, stern and unwavering and cold at the sight of her.

A loud knock startled Hinata out of her morning thoughts and she hurriedly left her bed to open the door.

"Hinata-sama!" The disapproving aunt on the other side of her doorframe clucked at Hinata's rumpled night clothes. "You are needed for breakfast."

"Of course," Hinata said, looking down at the floor. "I apologize for my tardiness."

Of course. Her presence would be required for a breakfast with her future husband. Quickly she washed and changed before scurrying down to the dining hall, wondering the whole way why it was that she hurried.

"Hinata," her father said from the head of the table. "It is unbecoming to keep your guest waiting."

"Sumimasen," she managed before carefully seating herself to her father's right and directly across from a man she hardly knew, whose gaze she found herself unable to meet. Her guest.

"It will be a morning wedding," her guest said once food was settled into bowls and the table became a flurry a chopsticks. It was a firm man she would marry, one who was unrelenting and strong. Of course. Someone to make up for what she lacked. Hinata shook her head slightly at the direction her thoughts were taking and nodded twice to make up for it, realizing an affirmation was expected of her.

"If you wish it to be," she said softly, lifting her eyes just slightly to focus on a dish that was placed in front of the man she was addressing.

The rest of breakfast went on like that. Her guest would say something about how something would be, and Hinata would gracefully accept whatever was not-quite suggested.

After breakfast, Hinata washed and put away the dishes while her father took her guest out for a stroll.

"Hinata?" Kiba looked like he would have been surprised had he not been quite so tired when he opened the door and saw the girl on his front step.

"Kiba," Hinata greeted and waited for him to invite her in.

"What're you doing here?" Hinata's gaze fell. Kiba quickly inserted more of his foot into his mouth. "I mean, not that you're not allowed to or that you need a reason or anything…"

Hinata studied Kiba's shoes as he stammered. After noting every speck of dust that lined the rimming of his sole, she lifted her eyes to his face and said quietly, "Will you not invite me in?"

"Oh. Oh! Well it's kind of messy inside, you see, well, you've seen it before, it's messy in there!" Kiba forced a chuckle which stuck abruptly in his throat when he saw Hinata's eyes. "Of course you can come in, Hinata," he said softly, pushing against the door as Hinata ducked under his arm to enter.

Shorty afterward they found themselves in Kiba's bedroom, Kiba avoiding the table where he'd learned of Hinata's engagement.

"Hinata?" Kiba said softly, noticing the trembling he thought she'd grown out of. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, K-Kiba!" she said a little too loudly, and started shaking even harder.

Kiba moved slowly closer until they were sitting beside each other on his bed. "Hey," he whispered in her ear, "Shh." He didn't know why he was shushing the quiet girl who was currently making no noise at all, but it wasn't working because now she was crying.

This was the first time Kiba had ever seen Hinata cry. She seemed frail and was defeated often, but she'd never cried. Not in front of him and not in front of anyone he knew of.

Well, shit. Kiba did not know quite what to do. He suspected that his knee-jerk reaction of wanting to go off in search of tissues would be inappropriate and unappreciated, so he settled on waiting for her to stop crying.

Only… she didn't. Her sobs didn't grow louder and she wasn't wailing with self-pity, but the tears came, heavy and falling steadily from her white eyes.

"Hinata," Kiba tried again, only to be cut off by her small, wavering voice.

"Kiba-kun. I'm sorry about this. Please believe that I didn't mean to be like this." Kiba interrupted with soothing noises and denials of the necessity of her apology. Hinata went on anyway, overlapping his words in a way that was very unlike her. "I came to tell you that we're getting married on a morning a month from now…" She continued, spilling out all the information that had been decided on that morning at breakfast. "…and I wanted to ask… to make sure… that you would come." She took a deep breath as she finished.

Kiba's hand rose, calloused and warm, to cup Hinata's tear-streaked cheek. She was afraid to look at him, could feel the intensity shooting from his eyes. "I can't," he whispered fiercely. "I won't."

Hinata shuddered, tears still dripping off her face, as his thumb moved against her skin in a gentle caress. His hand slid downward, molding against her jaw, trailing down her neck until it settled just above her shoulder blades. He leaned in slowly, looking meaningfully into her eyes so that she knew without a doubt what he was doing.

So when their lips met, she was prepared, and had slightly parted her lips. When Kiba's other hand settled on the small of her back, she raised a hand of her own and laced her fingers into his hair. When his kisses, which started out so gentle it almost hurt, became deeper and longer, she took deeper breaths between them.

They broke off, panting and with frantically beating hearts, Hinata's arms around Kiba's neck and Kiba's forehead resting against her shoulder. Kiba's eyes were closed but Hinata's were wide open.

"I'd better go home," Hinata said a little breathlessly. Kiba nodded, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and released her from his grip.

Hinata could feel his touch burning through her skin, throbbing with heat as she matched her pace to her heartbeat, which slowed with every step she took.


Thanks for reading this far. I never intended for this to be a long fic—I really don't have the patience to write one of those wonderfully epic stories, and if I made the attempt I suspect it would only turn out awkward and drawn-out—and there's only a chapter or two left of it. I really hope you like it so far, because there aren't many KibaHina fics out there and I'd hate for this one to be a waste.