Constructive Possession

A/N: A big fat honking THANK YOU goes to Peace-Love-Yaoi for taking the time to recommend my work. It is love, and it is greatly appreciated.

Nite Nite, you leave awesome reviews. Can I hire you? ^_^

I’m receiving lots of feedback on Kiba’s angst. Well, there is more to come. But then, like any rock-bottom situation, there’s only one place to go from there. Please don’t worry. I love Kiba Inuzuka and I can promise you that he will rebound.

I’m also receiving feedback on Neji bottoming. Let me just say that it was ALWAYS my intention that Neji should take Shikamaru the way Shikamaru has taken Neji SO MANY TIMES (I get warm just thinking about it! *fans herself*). Well, it’s coming, and I mean that in a VERY good way!

Many thanks to all my reviewers. You really make me smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Warning: unbeta’d; language; angst

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Witness one Kiba Inuzuka: single male, macho cop; deep in the throes of dealing with a sexuality he can no longer ignore.

Kiba wanted to brood. He wanted to sit and just do nothing. Only he couldn’t. He was covered in two layers of his own vomit. So was his carpet and furniture. The room reeked so badly it was causing him to vomit from the stench.

So he got up.

Actually, he crawled until he reached his kitchen. His head throbbed and his gut was sore from all the retching. The Inuzuka used his kitchen furniture to lift himself off the floor and then made his way to the cabinet containing the painkillers. He had a fleeting thought to take them all, but only took two. Kiba figured he were going to go out that way, he’d at least try to clean himself up first.

The Inuzuka drank a full bottle of water. Shortly after, he vomited again; this time in his kitchen sink. The painkillers he’d taken came right back up. Once he was sure the retching was over, he took two more.

Kiba was feeling a little better, but he was still moving slowly. He was badly in need of a shower. The vomit on his skin had hardened in some places and was actually causing him to chafe.

Kiba’s uniform reeked so badly when he removed it that he considered burning the damned thing. He dropped all his clothing—socks, boxers, tee shirt, uniform shirt and uniform pants—into a single pile before he climbed into the shower. He set the water temperature very high. He wanted the water to sting. He imagined it washing away all the chaos swirling around in his troubled spirit.

Kiba stood beneath the spray for a long time before washing himself vigorously. He made careful work of washing his hair before rinsing the suds away. When his hair felt clean to the touch, he added conditioner. Kiba left the conditioner on longer than usual. For some reason, he really wanted his hair to shine.

After the conditioner was rinsed out, Kiba took his body brushed and vigorously washed every part of his body he could reach with the brush. The parts that were beyond reach of the brush were vigorously washed with a washcloth.

When Kiba’s shower was finished, he emerged. His skin was red from the vigorous rubbing. His headache remained, but his head no longer throbbed. The Inuzuka was awake—alert. And clean! Kiba grabbed a towel to dry off his hair and another to wrap around his waist before exiting the small bathroom.

Kiba surveyed his bedroom. It was utter chaos, like everything else in his world at the moment. In fact, Kiba’s entire apartment was an external reflection of what Kiba was feeling on the inside: cluttered. Confused. Chaotic.

Messy.

Kiba wasn’t ready to contemplate the mess on the inside. It was still too soon for that.

He was, however, ready to clean his room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba divested himself of both towels. Then, the damp and naked Inuzuka began a vigorous process of cleaning his room.

Dirty laundry was thrown into a single pile.

The bed was stripped.

Shoes were replaced in the closet. Kiba got down on his knees, taking the time to neatly align each pair.

Items deemed necessary by the work he did for a living were set aside to be stored in the kitchen. This included training collars and a variety of flea and tick treatments.

Kiba picked up the magazines strewn about his bedroom. On one cover was a photograph of a topless, very large-breasted blonde. Kiba smirked at the image, but then his mind immediately back-tracked to the sexy images of the two men kissing on television the night before.

Kiba’s smirk wilted until it was gone. He tossed the magazine on top of the pile and picked up the entire stack with two hands to put away in his closet.

Not now, he thought, conscious of his body’s reaction to the memory.

Kiba left his bedroom to grab a trash bag and brought it back in. There was a lot of food wrapping strewn about the room. Kiba looked under his bed. There were the remnants of at least one pizza and two cheeseburgers under there.

Kiba used the handle on a broom to push the stuff from beneath the bed, and then deposited it all inside the garbage bag.

Garbage.

The room was littered with it. Kiba had had enough. Like a whirlwind, the garbage bag was filled with everything and anything that looked like garbage in the man’s bedroom. When he was done, the bag was so full he could barely close it.

One by one, each set of items to be moved to another room was moved out of Kiba’s bedroom. The last set was the pile of laundry. When everything was out of the room and off the floor, Kiba dusted the room vigorously. When that was done he walked over to the bedroom window to open it, oblivious to the fact that he was standing in front of his open window naked as the day he was born.

Then he went to get the vacuum.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba went through the same process in every room of his small apartment. He didn’t speak, or sing, or even whistle. The Inuzuka’s efforts were methodical and robotic in the way each completed process seamlessly gave way to the next. The naked dynamo gathered laundry, put things away, tossed out garbage, dusted, wiped, scraped, cleaned, sprayed, scrubbed and vacuumed. Kiba gave his body to those tasks even as he subconsciously hid from what he was feeling.

Kiba stood in the living room, hands on his naked hips; analyzing the mess of chunky, dried and drying vomit all over his furniture and carpet, which was wall-to-wall, and the couch? He was ready to call it a loss. He could throw the covers on the cushions in the wash, but there was no way he’d ever get that stench out of those foam cushions. Kiba silently determined that a furniture shopping trip would be in order at some point in the future. In the meantime, he needed to lose the couch and rent a steam cleaner for the carpet.

Kiba knew he wouldn’t be able to get the couch out of his apartment alone. Normally he’d hit up one of the guys from the squad for help, but he wasn’t in the mood for the conversation that would invariably accompany his request for assistance. He could call his sister, but there again was a discussion he wasn’t ready to have.

Kiba frowned. There was one person he could probably call; someone Kiba knew instinctively would help him without the hassle. The Inuzuka closed his eyes. He couldn’t make that call. It would be like admitting—

Kiba opened his eyes and then turned and walked back to his bedroom to get dressed. He couldn’t very well rent the steam cleaner in the buff, now could he?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The grocery store was insane. Kiba was on a mission at home or he wouldn’t have even bothered coming inside one on a Saturday afternoon. As it was, there was only one steam cleaner left for rental, and he was lucky to have gotten it. Now the Inuzuka was standing in a heinous line waiting to pay for what would ultimately become dinner: a bagged salad, a box of frozen buffalo burgers and a bag of hamburger buns. There he stood, a basket containing his dinner in one hand, the handle of the steamer in the other, waiting for what seemed like hours. Kiba silently consoled himself with the prospect of restoring his apartment to something inhabitable, perhaps for the first time since he’d moved in.

Oddly, he was looking forward to it. It made him think of the next two weeks of free time that lay before him. He hadn’t wanted to contemplate the enforced solitude before, but suddenly it seemed like an unexpected luxury. If nothing else, he’d turn his ratty apartment into a pleasant place again.

Again, Kiba thought. When had his apartment become unpleasant? How long had he been spinning himself dizzy in this self-imposed…trap?

Not now, the Inuzuka thought, cutting off the train of thought. He wasn’t prepared to go where it was leading him. Just…not now.

So lost was Kiba in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the woman standing off to one side behind him in line, observing him silently.

The woman watched him intently. She noted the way those broad, muscled shoulders slumped. She could tell he was troubled. She’d worked with him before, on many occasions. She had an idea of what might be the trouble, but of course she wouldn’t know for sure until she asked.

“Kiba?” the woman called out in a sweet voice.

The sound of his name jostled him out of his thoughts. He turned in the direction of the voice to find a tall brunette standing there, smiling.

“Shizune!” he called her, smiling brightly. Honestly, Kiba didn’t know if he’d ever been so happy to see a woman in all his life. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great. How about you?” she asked.

“Aw, I can’t complain too much.” Kiba couldn’t fend off the awkward silence that fell between them after that statement. It was so telling.

Shizune chose to guide their chat. “Looks like you’re doing some housework today”, she commented, referring to the steamer.

“Yeah”, the Inuzuka responded. “The carpet in my apartment is a mess.” Kiba wasn’t going to elaborate further. He hesitated. “What are you up to today?” he asked her.

“Nothing really; just enjoying the day until I’m paged.”

“On call, is that it?”

“You got it.” Shizune was a forensics analyst, like the Yakushi, except she was a chief specialist, considered a subject matter expert. She was one of the people to whom the Yakushi reported.

Shizune Niwa¹ was tall, slender, beautiful, intelligent, kind—and a widow. Her husband had been a lawyer cut down in his prime. Left young and childless, Shizune threw herself into her work. Now she was one of the top specialists in her profession.

There was something inside Kiba that suddenly cried out for her company. He wasn’t in the mood to question it.

“Have you had lunch? I’m uh—“ Kiba raised the basket in one hand—“making burgers and salad. Maybe…maybe I could make—I mean, would you like to join me?”

The question was awkward and sheepish. Shizune thought Kiba was the most adorable person she knew at that moment. Instinct told her what he truly wanted was to not be alone. She smiled.

“I would enjoy that, thank you.”

“Great”, Kiba said, the smile nearly splitting his face in half. He honestly expected her to decline. Sure, they worked well together, but Kiba wouldn’t exactly call them friends, and she’d never been to his apartment before.

Maybe being forced into a vacation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Shizune used the Inuzuka’s keys to open the door to his apartment. She entered the small space first, noting with interest the different piles neatly placed in strategic positions throughout the rooms. Kiba appeared to Shizune to be ‘nesting²’. She walked to the kitchenette and placed her bag on the counter, and Kiba followed suit.

The Niwa didn’t dwell on the matter too long before the stench of vomit hit her. She placed her index finger across her nostrils.

“Oh, wow. You must have had some party.” Even with the windows wide open, the odor was powerful enough to make her eyes water.

Kiba wheeled the steamer into the living room toward the source of the foul stench. “No, it wasn’t a party”, was his response.

Shizune walked into the living room, where Kiba stood inspecting the stains and silently planning his cleaning strategy. The coffee table would need to be moved, as would the stinky couch.

“Can I assist?” Shizune asked Kiba.

Kiba didn’t take his eyes off the stain on the floor. “No, I think I can handle this part. If you don’t mind, though, you can put the groceries away.”

Shizune observed Kiba, who actually seemed to be looking forward to cleaning up the stinky mess on his floor and furniture, and decided she’d be more help to him if she just let him do what he was doing. There would be time to talk later.

She turned and silently headed back to the kitchen to make herself useful.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Shizune busied herself putting away groceries and organizing the cabinets in the kitchenette while the Inuzuka attacked the stain on the carpet like a man possessed. He moved the furniture about in a hyperactive fit before turning on the steamer and then vigorously rubbing at the stains with its handle. Shizune retrieved a glass from a cabinet and filled it water from the tap. She leaned back against the counter and drank while watching him.

Kiba cleaned the entire living room with the steamer once, then again, before returning to the spot on the carpet. He rubbed at it repeatedly with the steamer. Shizune thought to herself that after so much effort, the stain was either long gone or there for good.

This was the Inuzuka she knew—vigorous and energetic. It was impossible not to know when he was in the room. He was like a whirlwind.

But there was something else, something sullen that dampened his aura, not to mention the fact that she’d never seen him so obsessive before. Shizune was sure he was troubled. And he had invited her to his apartment, something he’d never done in all the time they’d worked together. Some part of him had reached out to her in search of comfort. Why was he hurting?

Shizune sighed. She wasn’t certain…but she liked Kiba, and she would try to help.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba turned off the steamer.

He got down on one knee, using the handle of the steamer to brace himself, and analyzed the spot on the carpet where the stain had been. He ran his hand lightly over the damp fibers of the carpet, which had steamed to a nearly-new appearance. All traces of the vomit were gone.

Kiba had already done what he could with the couch and the table. He’d actually run the steamer over the foam cushions in an attempt to reduce the stench there until he could get the couch out of his apartment. He’d saved the carpet for last. Kiba was…satisfied with the results.

He stood up then, looking around. There were some piles in places in his apartment that still needed to be addressed, but he would take care of them later. Right now…now, he was weary.

“I think you got it.”

Kiba turned to the sound of that sweet voice and smiled weakly. “I’m sorry you had to see—and smell—this”, he stated, gesturing with one hand. “I had kind of a rough night last night.”

Shizune walked toward the younger man slowly. That was the most information he’d shared with her since the grocery store. Perhaps he was ready to talk.

“Anything you want to talk about?” she ventured.

Kiba pondered her question. Yes, he decided, he did want to share his troubles with her. Somehow discussing this whole—whatever it ended up being—seemed easier for him to do with a woman.

But not yet. He’d offered her lunch, and he wasn’t about to hedge. “Lunch first. Then we’ll talk. That okay with you?”

“Sure.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kiba pulled out his small George Foreman Grill™ and prepared frozen buffalo burgers. He ripped open the bag of salad and poured its contents into a salad bowl. He heated the hamburger buns. Shizune assisted by bringing out the condiments. Kiba fixed their plates at the counter, and then they ate in comfortable silence at the tiny table in the kitchenette.

A light breeze blew through the living room windows, giving a gentle rise to the curtains. A clear blue sky could be seen through one of the windows.

“It really is a nice day today”, Shizune announced, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, it is”, was Kiba’s response. He’d never been comfortable with small talk. He’d already polished off a generous portion of salad and two burgers, compared to Shizune’s salad.

“For someone who had a rough night, your appetite doesn’t seem to have suffered much.”

Kiba smirked at that statement. “Well, you saw last night’s dinner on the floor when you came in. This is the first thing I’ve attempted to eat since then.”

Shizune took a drink of her water. “So, what’s going on?”

Kiba stopped chewing the bite of burger in his mouth. He hesitated, and then finished chewing before swallowing and wiping his mouth with his napkin. “I’m…having some issues, and I guess they got in the way at work. The captain forced me to go on vacation for two weeks, effective yesterday.” Kiba didn’t look at her.

Shizune angled her body in an attempt to find the Inuzuka’s eyes.

“Issues?” she asked.

Kiba sighed deeply. He wanted to do this; he just didn’t know how to get past the first hurdle. “Yeah.”

“Such as?”

Kiba finally looked at her. She was so pretty, with her short dark hair, dark eyes, and pale complexion. She looked like a porcelain doll.

Here it was, the moment of truth.

“I—“ the Inuzuka began. The words were there, in his mind, in his heart, but they were locked in his throat.

Kiba ran a frustrated hand through his curly hair. “Shit. I’m sorry, Shizune, I thought I could do this but I can’t.”

Kiba got up from the table and walked back onto the carpeted floor in his slippers. He made his way to the living room window, stopping when he could feel the breeze against his body, and closed his eyes.

The gentle pressure of a small hand on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes again.

“Hey, this is a judgment-free zone, you have my word. It’s okay to tell me, Kiba.” The Niwa was beginning to think her hunch from earlier was correct.

Kiba snorted at her statement. “You don’t understand. I haven’t even been able to admit it to myself. I just…I—“

The Inuzuka actually growled then, clenching his eyes closed and tugging at his hair with his hands. Why did it have to be so difficult?

“Hey!” Shizune began, walking around to face him, “it’s okay, Kiba, we don’t have to talk about this now. Kiba?”

Kiba opened his eyes and looked at Shizune. She was visibly worried. He hadn’t intended to frighten her. It meant a lot to him that she was still there with him, willing to help him work through his trouble. She really was a nice lady. Sweet, and pretty, and she smelled nice too.

“Shizune”, Kiba responded in a calm voice, “I know we’ve never…I mean, I really appreciate…”

So much. There was so much to say. While it all flooded Kiba’s mind, the translation was utterly lost. He sighed.

“Is it all right if I hold you?”

Shizune was not surprised by his request. She smiled gently. “Yes, Kiba.”

She slipped into the circle of his arms easily, quietly, and heard him sigh again. They stood there in front of the living room window that way, sharing each other’s warmth for a few moments.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: (1) Once again…if you use a Naruto kunoichi in a fanfic, then nine times out of ten she won’t have a family name. WTFH, Kishimoto-sama?! I gave Shizune the family name Niwa, which is Japanese for private garden, to reflect her loveliness over her sex appeal, which was not required for her characterization here. In this she is also a forensics professional, very astute like Kabuto, and also serves as Kiba’s conscience.

I thought Kiba would find it easier to confess to a woman, so I literally pulled an older, more experienced woman out of the Narutoverse to assume the role of his confidante. Her efforts pave the way for Kabuto in this fic, who is trying to fulfill that role but failing due to his gender.

(2) Nesting is something that pregnant women do before they deliver. To learn more, go here: http://www.parentingweekly.com/pregnancy/pregnancy_information/nesting_instinct.htm

LOL Kiba doing housework in the buff. Can you tell I’ve been fantasizing? ^_^

There will be more angsty Kiba goodness in the next chapter. I hope I don’t lose any of you with this. Please leave a review with your thoughts.