Current mood:	chipper
Current music:	Fairy Tale - Michael Wong

Drabbles
High five for my first drabbles!

This may not be a review of Naruto, and I don't even know why I wanted to write this (who likes Hinata anyway???). Long story short, she's only tolerable with Kiba, for some some reason even I don't understand.


***

A shinobi should be able to concentrate on the task at hand, Kiba tells himself vehemently. But no matter how busy his hands are brushing the mats out of Akamaru’s fur, he can’t keep his eyes from wandering over to the field where Hinata is rhythmically going through training exercises. Kiba flushes when he realizes where he has been staring, realizes that Hinata has taken off her heavy jacket and left it in the shade next to the training field. In a recess of his brain, Kiba knows he can’t blame her, having himself taken off his parka ten degrees ago, but still…

Kiba sets his eyes firmly back on Akamaru, who gives a low growl when a patch of fur is viciously torn out with the brush. With a dispassionate pat on the head, Kiba absently tries to console his canine friend, but, before he knows it, his eyes have gone back to Hinata. She’s on her tenth kata now, moving gracefully into ‘Freestanding Tiger’. She flows like water into the next form.

“I don’t believe it is polite to stare.”

Kiba swallows a harsh swear word he knows Shino would also deem impolite along with a piece of his pride.

“Wasn’t staring,” he huffs with a glare at the only person in Konoha who still wears his jacket in the middle of summer. Shino only gives him one of those imperceptible looks. But every look is imperceptible, and Kiba resolutely decides to ignore him as well. He grumbles something about how he wished dogs would actually stop shedding in the summer, and Shino is gone before Kiba finishes the sentence.

By the time Akamaru’s fur is finally tangle free, Kiba notices Hinata has dozed off under the sun with Shino sitting next to her, acting as some sort of chaperone-like guard. Kiba rolls his eyes, but joins them anyway, settling himself and Akamaru a distance he knows Shino would deem appropriate and keeping his glances at the rise and fall of Hinata’s chest much more subtle.
***


This is partly dedicated to the fact that Hinata's 'assets' can now rival Tsunade's. What's with that??
***

And this is for sennuyer. Shigure=scumbag, but since that was too broad, it takes place post Yuki's escape to Shigure's house, but pre-Tohru.


***
Yuki was quiet the first day he moved into Shigure’s house. He was too afraid to speak, too afraid to do something wrong and be thrown out of his only respite, so he chose to remain silent and only speak in monosyllabic answers when spoken to, not like that was too different from how it had been before. Shigure thought it all rather odd at first, but he soon realized it would be better to be able to ignore Yuki as much as possible. The less impression Yuki made in the house, the less used to the rat he would get. It wouldn’t do to get too attached…or annoyed for that matter, Shigure mused that evening, when the longest conversation between them had been Yuki asking where the bathroom was located. The boy hadn’t even needed help unpacking his belongings, having only brought a single suitcase with him.

So the first week passed quietly. Shigure eventually found a way to entertain himself within the silence, and promptly began calling Yuki ‘church mouse’ to get a reaction. But this attempt to bring out some character in the rat didn’t work, and with no actual speech between them, Shigure was forced to actually look at him more. He noted with displeasure that every look from the boy spoke a literal thousand words, and Yuki looked at Shigure like some sort of savior. Instead of feeling pleasure, Shigure felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He believed he had heard Hatori describe a similar malady once, and Shigure immediately wanted to get rid of the slight guilt haunting him with every unguarded glance from Yuki.

He is so young, Shigure thought contemptuously as Yuki desperately tried to cook dinner for the two of them the next evening. The rat’s offer to cook followed by another one of those shy looks had sent Shigure into a silent bout of planning. There had to be a way to make Yuki’s stay useful, if not more interesting at the very least. Shigure was barely bothered by the smell of slowly charring food, and it wasn’t until he realized that Yuki’s violet eyes were turned his way that Shigure broke his reverie.

“I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here,” Yuki said quietly and meekly put down the food he had been preparing. Shigure noticed it was burnt beyond recognition, but when he looked at Yuki, the boy had averted his gaze. “I don’t know why you did, but it really means a lot to me.”

Shigure tapped what he thought might be a piece of broccoli with his chopstick and watched it crumble into bits of rice. “Make sure you say the same to Hatsuharu when you see him,” he said lightly.

“What do you mean?”

The dog chose something he was nearly sure was meat and brought it to his mouth in experimentation. He frowned and spat it into a napkin.

“Did…did he have something to do with this?” Yuki’s voice cracked a little, and Shigure nearly smiled at the sound of it. He made a mental note of what Yuki’s voice sounded like when afraid.

“What did he do? Did Akito…did you make him do something?!” Yuki recoiled from the table an inch, all of his suppressed fear resurfacing while Shigure put his chopsticks down and gave him a meaningful look.

“What would you do to save a friend?” he said slowly with just the slightest smirk playing at his lips. Yuki’s eyes were almost as round as the bowl on the table when he jumped up and ran out of the room. Shigure heard the door slam upstairs. He wondered if Yuki would forgive him his little joke. Part of the dog knew it was better if Yuki didn’t, but the rest didn't care either way.

Shigure waited a moment before picking up the receiver of the telephone in the other room. Yuki’s voice on the line was once again tainted with that pitch of fear, but Haru’s was its usual monotone calmness. Shigure gently placed the phone down again and waited another ten minutes for the line to be free before ordering his takeout.

The next morning Yuki’s eyes had become substantially colder towards his cousin. “What are you looking at,” he growled half asleep as his lidded eyes stared daggers at the dog across the table.
Shigure simply went back to reading the newspaper. ‘what a happy family we make,’ he thought to himself.