Honey

Shino gave her honey.

Not the heavy, rich amber kind that was almost too thick to eat.

The honey Shino's bees made was thin, golden, tangy and sweet.

The kind he knew she liked.

And he always left honeycomb in the jar – he knew that to her it was candy.

He never told her what kind of flowers it was made from.

It had a singular taste she couldn't quite describe.

Kiba had answered the question for her.

When she gave him a piece of her honeycomb, sticky, sweet, the color of morning sunshine, Kiba said it tasted like summer.