quiet
Kurenai

"Sensei?"

"Yo!"

"Sensei? Hey, Sensei. Sensei? Teach!"

I opened my eyes slowly. "Kiba," I began, as usual, mentally counting to ten.

The scruffy-haired boy before me shuffled his feet. "Sorry."

I sighed and leaned back against the pine tree I was resting under. "It's all right." It was late in the evening of a rather long day. I was tired and a little cranky and not in top condition to deal with Kiba's mouth at the moment. I was ready to go home.

Kiba fidgeted and looked away. Shino and Hinata were obediently still going through a series of kicks and punches on the practice dummies. "I'm finished," he said, watching them.

"Good job," I nodded. When he didn't bound away as he usually did, I knew something was up. He eyed me and shifted uneasily.

"Have a seat," I offered, moving my paperwork aside so that he could sit next to me.

The boy looked immediately relieved. He turned around once and sat down, crossing his legs neatly. Akamaru trotted over and curled up in his master's lap. Kiba stroked the little dog's ears, but didn't say anything. The unusual quiet made me kind of suspicious.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"Huh?" Kiba looked up, surprised. "Oh. Nothing."

"I see." I leaned my head back against the tree and looked up at the branches above. Akamaru whined and rolled onto his side, ready to fall asleep.

Kiba pulled his hood back. His eyes were intent and narrowed. "Sensei."

"Yes?"

"That day, with the tree. And Hinata." The blood-red marks on Kiba's face looked grim on his unsmiling cheeks. "I'm sorry."

I stared at him in surprise. "Kiba, that was weeks ago."

"I know. But..." He bit his lip, eyes lowered.

"Don't," I told him. "Hinata forgave you already. She wasn't hurt. It's all right."

"No!" Kiba shook his head. "That's not what I mean. I mean, I'm sorry for that too, but I mean, like, the part where I wasn't letting her help."

I watched him closely. He was gazing off in the direction of his teammates. "I understand why you got mad, ya know. Hinata wants to be stronger," he said. "She can't get strong if she doesn't get to try."

I closed my eyes and nodded.

"It's hard though," he continued. "Like, I don't want her to have to... I mean, I don't want her to get hurt! An' there's a lot of stuff that could hurt her! She's just so little!"

Hinata was striking the training dummy with a flurry of palm strikes. Shino had finished and was watching her. I expected him to give a few pointers, but this was Shino, of course. He stood silently and observed.

"She's frail," Kiba declared. "Stuff hurts her more then it hurts me. Like earlier today when we were practicing. I hit her and it wasn't hard but I saw her cough, and go like, whoa, and then I felt so bad, I mean, I didn't mean to, but... gah!" He made a sound of frustration. "What am I supposed to do!"

I regarded him silently.

He seethed, looking at his clawed hands. "I mean, I don't want to hurt her! But then if I hold back, how's she ever going to get strong? What's gonna happen when we take the Chuunin exams? She's gonna have to fight someone, an' they won't go easy on her. But, but--"

"What would you choose," I asked, "if it was all up to you?"

Kiba groaned. "Well duh, I'd keep her safe and away from anyone that would hurt her. You know I was walking home with her the other day? And that stupid jerko cousin of hers--" here the boy growled, "I do not like him. One bit."

I blinked, amused. "Hyuuga Neji, you mean?"

"Yeah. Him." Kiba spat. "I'd like ta kick his ass good! Bastard. He treats her like trash."

I shook my head, trying to be diplomatic. "The Hyuugas... the Hyuugas are..." I search for the proper word to describe it.

"Messed up." He scowled.

That'll do. "And they have always been that way. Neji and Hinata are both victims in this situation. They're both having to live by their clan's standards."

"But Hinata's nice," Kiba grumbled. "Hinata is the sweetest girl in the whole world."

Akamaru yipped his agreement. I smiled softly. Across the training ground, Shino was sparring Hinata. Their movements were light and fluid, graceful. They have good coordination. Shino swooped over with a punch, Hinata ducked and countered with a strike to his back. He turned, she turned, they dove and struck again.

"The Chuunin exam is coming," Kiba said, soberly. "Are you gonna make Hinata take it?"

"I won't make anyone do anything," I told him.

"Well if she wants to take it, what then?"

I give Akamaru a pat on the head. "It's her decision, Kiba."

His expression was upset, worried. "What if she's not ready?"

I looked away, saying the words I knew I should say, but I didn't feel my heart in them. "It's up to her to decide. You can't stop her. All we can do is try to help her."

Shino and Hinata had slowed to a halt now. Hinata knelt in the green grass, making mild small talk. Shino stood at a few paces' distance away from her, answering her with nods.

"How." Kiba's voice sounded hollow to my ears. "I don't know what the best thing to do is."

I paused, touched by his concern for his teammate. This was a side of Kiba I really hadn't seen much of yet. "I think," I said, carefully, "I think what Hinata could use most, is someone who believes in her."

This sank in slowly. The breeze rustled the gnarled trees overhead, scattering bronzed needles to the ground. We were both quiet, for a bit, and I was surprised to feel a strange kind of connection between us. Both of us would do anything to shield Hinata from harm. But both of us would have to accept that that wasn't what she wants us to do.

I didn't really like that feeling.

Kiba wiped his nose. "I will," he growled, getting to his feet. "I'll do anything that makes Hinata happy. But... I won't let anyone hurt her."

I nodded quietly. "That's good, Kiba."

Kiba ran off to join the others. I waved to them. "That's enough for today, team, good job."

The kids scampered away. I stayed where I was, contemplating Kiba's words and watching the dappled light filter through the trees. The afternoon breeze stirred the branches above me. A few rust-tinted needles tumbled down to join the ones already scattered below.

Fallen and dead.

I heard the crackle of twigs and leaves as someone approached, and the familiar smell of cigarette smoke tickled my nose. I twitched, looking around.

Asuma stepped out of the shadows behind me. "Hey," he said quietly, raising a hand in greeting.

"Asuma," I muttered, and my voice sounded dark in my own ears.

His gaze trained on me, searching. "I saw your kids going home," he began. But you're still here. He hadn't said it aloud, but it was there.

"Yes." I didn't know what else to say. What else could I say? What else did he want me to say?

What does he want from me, anyway?

I scrutinized him, trying to get a handle on the situation. He stood a few steps away, at a polite distance. He looked just like always-- standing there in his familiar slouch, cigarette hanging from his lower lip, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops.

It was just Asuma. And all he had to say was, "Want to go for a walk?"

I stared at him. He smiled gently. The lines around his eyes showed, in the shadows of the trees. He looked tired. He looked concerned. He looked honest.

He held out his hand to me, and he looked like just what I needed.

I took his hand. I let him help me up. I let him lead me through the shaded woods and out into the fields.

Beyond the trees, the fresh air and open sky greeted us. Endless blue stretched above, caressing the tops of the mountains on the horizon.

I felt troubles clearing from my head one by one. Tall grasses waved in the wind, looking for all the world like a soft green sea. The last golden rays of the sun filtered through the hazy sky. Downy brown sparrows flew in low loops above the earth, on their way home for the night's rest.

Asuma let out a deep sigh of smoke. I expected him to ask questions, but he didn't. He left it at comfortable silence.

It was nice.

There is something meaningful about finding someone you can just be quiet with. We talk all day, talking when we are nervous, talking when we are scared, talking to cover ourselves up, talking to keep others away. Talking passes the time and makes us feel alive. We talk because people cannot read our minds, and so we must put our thoughts into words so that they can understand and know us.

There is much to be said for the person with whom you can feel known and understood without talking.

We wandered around the meadow for who knows how long. The shadows grew deeper as the daylight waned. Smoke rose from the chimneys of Konoha, and lights began to show here and there from the dark houses.

Asuma leaned close, and his hand brushed the inside of my elbow. I hadn't been expecting the light touch at all and I jumped, startled. He was very near.

"Look," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I turned to the direction in which he indicated. The sky was bathed in fire. Tongues of flame reached out from the western horizon, dyeing the heavens the richest shades of saffron, vermilion, and crimson.

I gazed up into the shifting and changing colors. I have seen many sunsets, before and since, but that one was truly amazing. That was not just a sunset I saw. It was a sunset I felt, with my whole heart and every fibre of my being. It was hot, it was lingering, it was soft and still and it made my heart ache. The sun's burning red began to flow and fade into soft rose and dusky violet. We stood and watched it all, until the sky was black and the stars glimmered back at us.

Then he turned and led me home, in that comfortable silence.