Note: i had to rewrite basically the ENTIRETY of chapter 1 because of how the manga turned out. HOWEVER, i still did whatever i wanted with it. still, please go reread it! the events following this might not make sense otherwise!
Anyways, sorry for the delay! I'm pretty notorious for starting stories and then never touching them again, or looking at them again, so I'm glad I was able to update this, despite how long it took, haha! Still, I hope you enjoy it!
The next few chapters (I'm not sure how many, exactly, though; I don't really plan stories out like some people - as George R.R Martin put it, with writers being architects and gardeners, I'm more of a gardener) might be a little slow (and when I say slow, there might not be much - if any - Sasuke and Hinata interactions).
It's for the sake of incredibly significant character development, though, so that'll make up for it, I hope! Like I said before, I role play as Hinata, and my portrayal of her in this story is heavily based off of that, and hopefully writing this fanfiction will help me to characterize her even better for my portrayal of Hinata on Tumblr! Some of the content I write might be based on drabbles I've written on my blog (xhaeres . tumblr . com) for the sake of headcanons and whatnot, but my portrayal goes more in depth here (probably) than the simple and short explanations I've given on my role play blog.
All that aside, though, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1, and I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter and all that will follow! I apologize for anymore delays; I've been pretty busy!
But hey! Once they actually meet and this story REALLY gets started, I promise it'll get good! I had an idea, I kind of forgot the idea, so now I'm just winging it, haha! Hope it turns out okay anyways!
Made this update just in time for the holidays! Happy Holidays, everyone! Have a nice one!
( updated on december 24, 2014)
A month had passed since the conclusion of the war.
People said that as time went on, things would get easier, but for many, it was easy to see it was a lie, a simple little fallacy. Things never got any easier; if anything, life grew much more difficult to bear. Nothing was easy. They were shinobi, after all - as if any of them would have an easy life. Any moment could be their last, and they would never breathe in another breath of the air they treasured so dearly, nor would they wake to see the dawn of the next day. In their profession, many died young, and that was just how things were. There was nothing else to it, and there was nothing else to think of it. Each death was simply that - just another death.
Of course people were saddened, but they never lingered on those deaths for long. Death was commonplace for shinobi, and in order to continue functioning as normal to complete their missions and protect their respective villages, they had to put their emotions aside. It was one of the primary and most important rules for a ninja.
They should never let their emotions get in the way of their work.
Doing so was not only unprofessional, but in got in the way of everything. Acting upon one's emotions was unbelievably dangerous. Decisions should be made wisely and with the brain with a proper and calm thinking process, not by a distraught heart and a clouded mind blinded by unspeakable sadness or trembling rage.
One wrong move, and someone could get killed. It would jeopardize the entire mission.
It was paramount for a shinobi to keep their focus and retain their composure in order for a mission to go smoothly, and to keep their hides safe.
Even if it wasn't a mission or battlefield setting, it was in a ninja's best interest to keep their emotions under lock and key so that they would be able to go on with their life and continue going on missions. They had a duty to their village, and unless they felt that they were able to take on another skill set and resign as a shinobi to head on over to civilian status, completing missions was their only source of income. Sure, there were some people and clans entirely that had little side jobs for when they were free, but most had successful family establishments. It wasn't easy to set up shop, especially if there were plenty of similar shops around.
It was costly to not only purchase a building, but to keep it running. They would have to think about shop bills, house bills, and simply feeding themselves.
No, missions were the only things that would cut it for some.
Shinobi missions were dangerous. People knew that, so clients paid well. It was why many people chose to become a shinobi - because they had chakra and because they were capable of moulding it. Some did it solely to feed themselves and keep a roof over their heads, and some did it because they truly wanted to protect their village and country. Some became shinobi for a combination of both. Regardless of the reason, again, it was a source of income. Even the lowest ranking mission paid relatively well.
Luckily for Hyūga Hinata, she was talented at many things. She could bake extremely well, and she had a natural green thumb. She could knit, she could crochet, and she could sew. She could sing, and with her graceful and careful steps, perhaps she could be a dancer as well, though she had never really tried dancing, although the need to learn may or may not arise in the future (after all, she was the daughter of the head of Konoha's most noble and prestigious clan). She pressed flowers, she could draw and she could paint. She created medical balms, lotions, soaps, and bath oils.
Hinata also belonged to a rich and prestigious clan where there would never be a shortage of money, nor any worry over anything like that.
But unfortunately for her, she was also one of the ones whose emotions had gotten the better of her.
Hinata had been fine during the war, separating her feelings from her duties and choosing the latter above the matters of her heart. A week following the end of the war, she had been coping relatively well, extending a helping hand to whoever needed it. Once the commotion died down and people were beginning to settle and return to their ordinary lives, she, too, began her own healing process.
The Hyūga hadn't been as heavily injured as some people. The worst of her injuries consisted of minor lacerations - perhaps a little large in length, the largest cut being two inches, but they weren't terribly deep, even if they left permanent scars upon once flawless porcelain skin. Her scrapes and scratches were easily and quickly healed, and her bruises faded over time. Larger wounds scabbed over after a while once they were briefly attended to by a medic, and for a few days, she was confined to her bed, although she was more than able to be up and walking about.
That was what she had said, at least, but once she had slipped beneath the covers and closed her eyes, Hinata had been out like a light. She slept for a day and a little more, hardly waking in between. War was enough to make anyone exhausted, especially after seeing all that she had seen.
A little rest never hurt anyone.
Days flew by, and Hinata was growing restless.
Her bones seemed to ache with how little movement she made during the last few days as she had been stuck in bed. Stretching her limbs had been a blissful sensation once she had gotten up on her feet. By then, her bruises had disappeared and all little scratches, scrapes, and cuts had disappeared as well; it was as if they had never been there. All that lingered were the remnants of larger wounds, but those were almost minuscule in size now.
That night, the moon was particularly beautiful, and the stars were shining twice as brightly.
The little lights in the sky twinkled and pulsated with all their might, and they were gorgeous. The waxing crescent moon hung high in the sky, its luminescent glow pooling gently upon the Hyūga compound, illuminating everything it touched.
On nights like these, she always did like to step out for a little night walk.
It was calm and peaceful - the atmosphere feeling nothing less than serene. There was only a gentle breeze to disturb the foliage with a soft rustle, sending the weakened, wilting and dying leaves flying off the trees and shrubs.
Rising from her bed, Hinata slipped out from her bedroom, gently sliding the shogi doors back shut. Her room was one of the inner ones, and it was mostly for safety's sake. Walking through hallways, she made her way to the tea room, sliding one of the doors open to venture outside. She sat down on the veranda for a few minutes, allowing her legs to dangle over the edge. With her hands pressed against the wooden floor's edge, the corners digging into her palms, she tilted her head back to admire the night sky, her pale eyes wandering from the countless stars that glittered up above in the darkened blue horizon to the moon and the wispy clouds of gray that floated over it.
It was a truly beautiful evening.
She finally stood and walked on the wooden veranda until she reached her home's main entrance, grabbing a pair of her casual sandals from the shoebox, quickly slipping them onto her feet. Brushing her hands against her clothes to smooth them, she began to slowly stroll around the Hyūga compound, though not wandering everywhere and anywhere - it was rather large, after all.
Before long, Hinata had returned to the her home's vicinity, still walking until she arrived at her outdoor training grounds. Giving one last glance at the sky, the kunoichi clasped her hands together before her and allowed her eyelids to shut. She breathed in slowly through her nostrils, breathing out from slightly parted lips. Soon, the girl grew tired of standing, her legs beginning to ache from having walked so long and from having stood in one place without moving for so long.
And so, she sat.
She sat with her legs crossed and her hands in her lap, and her eyes had yet to open. It was typical of her to wait like this. There were times when her partner was punctual, and there were times when he arrived far earlier than herself. There were times when he was only a few minutes late, and there were times where Hinata had waited for a long while.
Tonight, it seemed that it would be the latter.
She waited, and she waited, and she waited, and she waited, and oh, did she wait.
Hinata waited for quite some time, and no one ever did show up.
There was nothing, no one, to wait for, because after an hour of sitting in silence beneath the quiet moonlit sky, she realized that no one would be joining her that night.
She realized that after her soothing evening walks, there would no longer be any training sessions or soft murmurs filling the atmosphere as they spoke from heart to heart, or even about the little things.
He had returned home with her, but he did not come home breathing.
He was pale and the back half of his body had reddened beneath his clothes - livor mortis. His body wasn't stiff, no, because according to the medics, rigor mortis usually began to fade after approximately two days. After rigor mortis ended, the body would begin to decay.
Neji, her beautiful, strong, and kind cousin Neji - he was dead and the realization fully hit her at that moment.
She had cried during the war and she had shed tears upon returning home, but that night, she had forgotten that Neji was gone. She expected him to join her after her walk, and she expected that they would spar and speak, but it never happened. It never would.
After all, Neji was gone.
There hadn't been an immediate funeral. There were too many dead to burn and bury, and there were too many injured soldiers to try and heal so that the number of casualties wouldn't rise. They wanted to remove the stench of the dead and properly put them to rest, the medics had said.
Later in the week, there would be a collective memorial service to honor the fallen. Before then, those who had sacrificed their lives during the war would have their names etched in stone to be placed in the cemetery. The names of those who had returned home to be laid to rest, and those who had been lost out in the battlefields, their bodies either nowhere to be found or far too mutilated to identify.
Days up until the day of the memorial service, Hinata gradually began to lose herself and her emotions.
She was breaking.
All her movements seemed slow and sluggish - almost robotic, it seemed. Her pale lavender eyes didn't hold the same light of life as they had before, now almost deadened and glazed over, dull and lackluster. When someone spoke to her, it was as if she didn't truly register that she was being addressed. Her answers were always short, though not quite curt, and quieter than usual, though still polite. Hyūga Hinata was a cheerful, sweet, and courteous girl, and now she seemed as if she was nothing more than a lifeless porcelain doll stripped of her heart and soul.
All the courage and fierceness that she had gathered over the years through all of her blood, sweat, and tears had practically vanished, and her once timid nature had returned. At least, for a time.
When she saw the faces of her comrades and friends, it was enough to make the kunoichi tear up. Even still, it was difficult to believe that they had made it out alive, despite the circumstances of the war, but there was only a small handful of people to thank for their survival.
Hinata was glad.
Yet, still, she wished with all her heart that her cousin's death had only been a dream. How was it that he of all people had died so young? Neji was strong, he was kind at heart, he was intelligent, he was skilled in every possible field a shinobi could hope to excel in - Neji had been a genius and a prodigy. He should have lived for decades longer.
When Hinata took the thought into consideration, she had bitten her lip, teeth releasing the the plump flesh as she squeezed her eyes shut. It had been her fault. She was the reason why Neji had died. He had stepped in front of her to save her life, and Naruto's life.
It was her fault.
Sure, she wouldn't have been able to deflect the Jūbi's direct attack on Naruto. But instead of using her time to step in front of Naruto, she could have used the same amount of time and energy to leap and shove him out of the way. In war, thinking in a manner that wasn't rational wasn't uncommon. In fact, most people did. As people watched their friends, family, and comrades die all around them, it got to their heads and affected their thought processes. Sometimes having to make quick decisions, just as Hinata had, didn't leave time to think of all the possible solutions, choosing only the first one that came to mind.
It was because of that Neji had stepped in front of the pair of them to stop the attack from hitting her.
Neji was always looking out for her, even up until the very end.
When the time for the memorial service came, she joined her family on the way there, her skin looking even paler and almost translucent against all of the black that covered nearly every inch of her milky skin.
She was silent during the service, following suit with everyone as they all honored the fallen. She didn't shed a single tear - at least, not until she was the last one there.
Hinata had shaken her head and told her family that she wanted to stay for a while longer, and they nodded, leaving her to stand alone. About an hour passed before everyone else had departed from the cemetery. The young Hyūga walked around until she found Neji's headstone, standing before it with saddened eyes. She stared for a minute longer, and she sniffled once as she felt the tears ready themselves to fall. Her throat tightened as if she was going to start crying at any given moment, but all that came out was a lone tear drop. It fell slowly from her left eye, staining her cheek as it fell and the tear's path dried.
Her expression solemn, she murmured quietly, "I'm sorry, Neji nii-san..."
The kunoichi dropped to a crouch, then to her knees, bending to lean over the stone, gripping its edges with a tightness in her fingers that refused to let go. Her body trembled in her silent tears, shuddering as she heavily breathed in and out through the inaudible sobs. Salty tears streamed down her smooth face, droplets wetting the cool stone beneath her, the wetness remaining for perhaps a minute before evaporating. She lied there for several moments longer before breathing in heavily, releasing the air in an equally heavy sigh.
She began to rise, sitting seiza style as petite hands rose to brush the tears aside. Fingers grasped at her sleeves to wipe her face, the fabric visibly wrinkled as she released her hold on them. She straightened the flowers in the small vase, and a hand lightly brushed against the stone once more, fingertips pressing into the grooves of the engraved words. Even now, she could hardly believe that he was truly gone, that she would never see his face again. To think that she had lost one of the people she was closest to, one of the people she had treasured the most...it was unreal. Over and over, she wished that it had been nothing but a bad dream, something she could wake up from and flee into the safety of his arms once more and be reassured that he was, indeed, alive and well. Breathing, alive, and well.
But, the reality was this: she was plagued with nightmares each night, nightmares that tore her dreamscape apart. After the war, her dreamscape had become a sanctuary, a place of escape from the true, physical world, a place where she did not have to worry, a place where she could find comfort and ease. It wasn't long before it became tainted with a darkness that she could not drive out. The darkness brought out memories she didn't want to relive. Neji's death replayed in her mind like a cinematic, over and over again, each time more vivid and more real than the last. Each time, she would see the pain and the anguish on his face all over again, and she would hear his parting words that only made her heart sink even further than it already had. And somehow, the nightmares became even more real than it had been during the war.
Before long, it wasn't even only his death that she saw. Everything from the war came back to haunt her. All the lives of the comrades that had been stolen beside her, all of the blood and the tears. The cringeworthy sound of bones being cracked, crushed, and snapped, the sound of gurgling cries as a throat had been slit, the sounds of the soldiers struggling to breathe and finally falling limp. An entire unit had been decimated. So many countless lives had been lost and there wasn't a way in the world that they could be brought back.
The only thing the world could do now was to not allow their deaths to have been in vain. Peace would reign for as long as they could help it. They were comrades, now. All of the Five Great Shinobi Nations had to work hand in hand in order to maintain the peace that they had worked so hard to earn.
And as for her, personally, all that there was left for her to do was recover, but that was far easier said than done.
Her sister had insisted until her throat was raw that she go in to see a specialist to aid in her recovery, but Hinata refused. Even if it was someone who was supposed to help her, Hinata didn't want to burden anyone with her problems. There were, after all, other shinobi who were far worse off than she was who would need their help more than she ever would. She had told Hanabi that she would be fine and capable of coping on her own, and that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Hanabi wouldn't hear anything of it - a medical nin had been dragged into the Hyūga compound, much to her sister's dismay, and official diagnoses were made.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and depression.
Hinata had pressed her lips together and sighed upon hearing those words, but that had been reality. She, too, was human like anyone else, and she, too, was vulnerable.
Finally rising from the grave, she bid her cousin farewell, quietly promising that she would come to visit again soon with fresh sunflowers to place in the vase. Each time she visited, she would bring a different kind of flower - she would begin with one of his favorites.
Footsteps were light, but there was no life in her steps. Hyūga Hinata was a girl who radiated with happiness, and she was a girl who lived life with an optimistic outlook on essentially everything. She was kind as she was sweet, and she was gently firm and strong. She was a girl that many should aspire to be like. Even as she walked, there was a certain pep in her step that said that she was enjoying life to the fullest no matter what was thrown at her, but now, that pep was gone. Movements were languid, bleeding with her dejection.
Even with the most crestfallen and pitiful expression resting upon her countenance, Hyūga Hinata remained the beauty of the village.
( She was truly an angel, and no angel should ever appear to be, or ever be allowed to be, so sad. )
It was today as she was returning to the Hyūga compound that she ran into Kiba, someone that she, admittedly, was trying to avoid. He was her best friend, and god, it pained her to not see him. She wanted to melt comfortably in his arms like always, and she wanted to sit with him and ruffle Akamaru's soft fur, but right now, she was the most vulnerable she had ever been in her life - so open and weak. Kiba had seen into her heart and soul, and he had seen her weep and sob. He had been there to dry her tears, and he had been there for her as a shoulder to cry on, but yet, this time...somehow, it was different. She didn't want Kiba to see her like the mess that she was.
Shock had widened her pale eyes of moonlight, and Kiba, initially, was overjoyed to see her. Giving her a good once over, however, his own expression fell and he instinctively reached a hand out to her, a hand that Hinata shied away from.
"'Nata..." He didn't bother to ask what was wrong. He knew. He knew, with all that was happening, and he could see it written on her face. Reserved as she was, Kiba knew her well. He knew her as well as the back of his own hand. He knew.
Without warning, he opened his arms and scooped the petite kunoichi in, enveloping her in a tight, firm, but gentle embrace. Hinata's frame had grown frozen, rigid in astonishment, unable to act in the moment. Her mouth had parted ever so slightly as if to utter a soft word of something to him, though she didn't know what. She tilted her head back as best as she could manage to peer up at the Inuzuka, the shock never leaving her eyes, even as she blinked, and blinked, and blinked, and blinked, and blinked.
Finally, she grew lax. She loosened in his hold and melted into the hug that she didn't realize that she had needed for so long. Through all this time, she had been pushing everything and everyone away in a means to cope with her own problems so as to not lay them upon anyone else in a way that might burden them. Her problems were her own, and she intended to battle them out. But yet, perhaps it was a fight that she wasn't going to win. She avoided friends and places that might elicit a memory, pleasant or not, that might then lead to wandering thoughts that could eventually come to trigger the painful flashbacks of war.
The Hyūga's arms rose and gently wrapped around Kiba's own body. She held him tightly, so tightly that it seemed that she was afraid that she might lose him, too. She could not bear to lose anyone else dear to her. Neji had been more than enough. Seeing her comrades die all around her, even those she didn't know all too well, if at all, set about a heavy, dark, miasmic cloud to pollute a once pristine, clean, and crisp atmosphere with air favorable to pass through their lungs with ease.
Breathing in sharply, the air was released in a shudder, and her petite frame trembled as she exhaled. Kiba's arms tightened around her protectively, and a large hand rubbed her back in circular motions, up and down, to soothe her - or, at least, it was an attempt to.
The two of them stood there in silence for moments longer, simply relishing each other's embrace. It had been far too long. A month, perhaps a little bit over a month, but for them, it had felt like years since they saw one another. Team 8 was inseparable, but here they were, having grown distant. War changed people, and often it wasn't for the best. Kiba (and of course, Akamaru, too) and Shino understood her position. They knew they she would seek them out if she needed them. Shino especially felt that it wasn't his place, although he, too, wanted to reach out to his beloved friend and team mate, to intrude on her space. Sometimes, one required time alone in a time of tragedy. He didn't know the reasons for her sudden detachment, but it wasn't as if he'd always truly left her on her own.
Shino wondered if she would have noticed the increase of insects around her.
As for Kiba, it was worse for him. Hinata was his best friend. To him, she was something more. He loved her - of course he did. They were team mates, people who had over time developed a friendship that would last them a lifetime, but somehow, somewhere along the road, he had fallen in love with her. But, he knew that Hinata had eyes for Uzumaki Naruto, and the stupid blond hero alone.
So he let her be.
He prized her happiness above his own, though he wasn't sure where she would find happiness in a guy who never even noticed her. He wasn't sure where Hinata was going to find happiness in a guy who hardly gave her a second glance, even after she saved his ass from the Akatsuki when the village decimated. Regardless, he never spoke of his feelings to anyone, although Shino had come to figure it out. Kiba was surprised that it wasn't obvious to Hinata, although it wasn't something he really made obvious. He treated her just the same as he always did - affectionately, playfully, lovingly, teasingly. Nothing changed between them. He didn't have hearts blinding his eyes nor did wear his heart on his sleeve. Maybe that was why. Even so, Hinata seemed to have a sixth sense for many things, namely a person's mood and how they felt. It was almost as if she could sense and read one's aura.
At the same time, Kiba was glad that she hadn't sensed a thing. He didn't know if he would be able to look her in the eye if she knew exactly how he had come to feel about her. He didn't know if he would ever be able to look her in the eye once she knew and he was faced with the rejection that was sure to come. They were better off being friends. He knew that. He damn well knew it.
But now, things had changed. Much time had passed, but at the same time, much time hadn't. He wondered if she still felt anything for Naruto. It was selfish of him to think and feel this way, that if her heart had opened to new possibilities that he would have a shot at nestling safely within the hearth of her heart. It was selfish to think that he would have a shot for her love in a time where she was hurting and suffering, but all he wanted to do was to love her, comfort her. He wanted to be the pillar that would support her from falling. He wanted to be the pedestal that raised her above the clouds and far above where the gods were sitting.
He wanted to be there for her.
Kiba was there for her now - he hoped that Hinata knew that.
It was silent - far too silent.
He desperately wanted to offer words that might be of comfort to her, but his words fell short of his tongue, never making it to the tip, let alone past his now parted lips. They pressed together and thinned in thought. He wasn't going to tell her things were going to be all right, although there was no doubt in her mind that things would eventually begin to mend and heal, and that life would eventually go on. That wasn't something even he wanted to hear, and it wasn't something she would want to hear. Yet, the Hyūga girl was an optimist by nature - maybe it was something she needed and wanted to hear, but Kiba couldn't be too sure. She was strong, yes, but right now, he didn't know how strong or fragile she was. She could be a porcelain doll with cracks running through her pale, fragile, delicate body, or she could be a maiden of iron, titanium, and steel.
Maybe it was best that he left things unsaid.
All he could do now was hold her in his arms as firmly and gently as he could, and god, he didn't want to ever let her go. He felt comforted with her petite frame in his arms. He could smell her sweet scent - she smelled like lavenders and lilacs and everything lovely, and she smelled like the warm rays of sunshine. Even if they hadn't seen each other in quite some time, even with her not being her normal self, she still smelled the same to him.
As for Hinata, she thought that Kiba was the same as ever, too. They didn't need to speak to one another to know anything. It was the bond of team mates and friends closer than blood (which was especially true, considering the clan that she hailed from) that let it be as such. His arms were strong and his body was as warm as ever. With her face buried in his chest, it was easy for her to smell him (though her nose was nowhere near being as good as Kiba's). He smelled lightly of cologne and dogs and wild grass, all mixed in with his natural scent. It was one of the scents that smelled like home. She had a place with him within his heart, and she knew that.
Home was a place where you were thought of and loved.
It was because of that that she felt so guilty and terrible for avoiding him and Shino. They were her friends, but she was going out of her way to dodge them, but it wasn't only them. She avoided other friends, she avoided other comrades, and she avoided places and had once loved. She especially avoided walking past Neji's bedroom. She avoided visiting the birds that he had so adored, and she avoided visiting the patch of her garden where she had grown sunflowers for him. She avoided making contact with Lee and Tenten, even though she knew that they needed her, too. She avoided his sensei, Gai, and she felt terrible for it. But, she couldn't bear to see the sorrow in their eyes. She knew that each of them felt as guilty as she did, as sad and depressed as she did, but it wasn't their fault that Neji had fallen to a fate that never should have been his - it had been her fault.
She didn't want to see the turbulent seas of agony surging within their eyes. She didn't want to feel the hurt and the pain that radiated from their beings. It would have been far too much for her to bear.
She wasn't ready.
At the moment, she wasn't at the greatest state of mind that she could be. She wasn't her usual self. When she felt that she had come to heal, at least to a certain point, she would visit her cousin's old team. They needed each other in this time in order to let go of all that had happened and move forward, all while treasuring the memory of him, always and forever.
Soon, Hinata loosened her arms from around Kiba's waist, allowing them to fall by her side. Kiba's own arms still remained where they were. She felt him stiffen, as if he was shocked by her letting him go. The Inuzuka didn't want her to leave. He didn't want to let her go. Not now, not when she was hurting. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to comfort her and reassure her. He wanted to help her heal. Inside, he begged and pleaded for her not to leave him - he couldn't find the courage to vocalize his wishes.
"Kiba-kun..."
Her soft voice dragged him out of his own selfish thoughts, and finally, albeit reluctantly, he let her go, though his hands came to rest atop her shoulders. Kiba peered into the depths of her pale lavender eyes until she looked away, hurt written all across her countenance. Silently, he swore to himself that he would never let Hinata ever have to suffer alone like this if he could help it.
Hinata began to step back, and her shoulders turned as she did. Her gaze had fallen to the ground; she did not raise her head to look back up at Kiba, and soft lips had pressed together, thinning. Kiba's hands had been forced off as her body turned, and for a while, they lingered by his side before he pocketed them and slipped a quiet sigh. He didn't quite know what to say to her. He wasn't a man who was known for his eloquence, and he wasn't a man who was skilled at stringing words together, especially on the spot. He didn't want to stumble over his own words and make a blunder - not in a time like this, not with her.
Finally, he reached an arm up, and fingers rubbed at the nape of his neck. "Y'know, 'Nata..if ya' need me, I'll be there for you in an instant..." he said, though it came out as more of a mumble than anything coherent. The gaze of amber eyes wandered around before pinning upon her face. Hinata's eyes didn't meet his own for a just a few moments, but when she finally did, he flashed her a small smile. And, now, he was half-hoping that she would toss him one of her signature genuine smiles in return; he had missed seeing her smile. Right now, he would give anything to see her smile or hear the sound of her melodious laugh that rang through the air like the sweet chimes and peals of a bell or a fairy's laughter, an angel's laughter.
Hinata didn't deliver a full smile, no, but she did smile, and Kiba swore that his heart stopped for a moment - it was as beautiful as always. "-..thank you, Kiba-kun," came her soft reply. "I-..I appreciate that.. I appreciate that a lot. I'll-..I'll see you later, ne..?"
And with that, the Hyūga was soon out of his reach. She turned in full and began to walk off towards her compound. Something within him yelled at him to run after her and to not let her go, but his legs were frozen solid, cemented and chained to the ground. He couldn't find his voice and words refused to leave the confines of his mouth.
"Yeah, bye, 'Nata," Kiba thought. A hefty exhale of air pushed out from his nostrils. Even as Hinata disappeared from his line of sight, her scent still lingered in the atmosphere, and his nostrils followed the path of it as she walked away. They would cross paths again, of course. After all, each respective team was practically inseparable. No matter what happened, they had each other in anything.
It hurt Hinata to walk away from Kiba, just as it pained him to watch her leave. But, it wouldn't do her good to simply stand out there all day, even in his arms. She needed to go home. Even his warm, loving presence wasn't enough - not at the moment. Wounds healed slowly, and when hers did, she would be ready to face him, and little by little, she would be able to face the world once again.