Till Death

Title: Till Death
Author: JBMcDragon
Characters: Kiba/Shino
Genre: Drama, yaoi
Rating: PG

Summary: Shino and Kiba have been separated for a full year, and life has moved on. But with ninja, life is easily cut short. Even this kind of anger and betrayal can be set aside for injury and death.


Welcome to the last installment of the Kiba/Shino, AKA Mark series! It started something like four years ago, and has finally reached it's conclusion. Many thanks and apologies to those who have stuck with me all this time, and welcome to those who are just joining in! You might notice a slight improvement in writing if you read the series all at once. Just go with it. ;)

If you're looking for more fic, you can check out the stickypost on my livejournal (jbmcdragon.livejournal.com); it's all there. Now that this is wrapped, the only current Naruto stuff I have going is at Fallen Leaves, where I write a young Inuzuka Tsume and a couple of OCs. I HIGHLY recommend it: the stories are phenomenal.

Fallen Leaves and the following stories can all be found at the stickypost on my livejournal. The Mark series happens in this order (and most stories should be here, on aff):

Mark
Important People
Noise
Discomfort
Meld
Names
To Have
To Hold

You are more than welcome to friend my LJ for updates and other (very occasional) fanfic. Consider this an open invitation. ;) Now, with many thanks, the belated end to the Mark series!

---

Now

Shino stood under the tropical drizzle, watching as they lowered the body into the clan grounds. The Inuzuka surrounded him, faces streaked with red tribal tattoos and lines of tears.

His own pain he kept buried, hidden behind a mask he'd learned to wear as a child. His heart thumped in his chest, slow and methodical. Kikaichuu hummed under his skin, agitated at the emotion he didn't show. Both were a reminder of the life he had, and the life they'd lost.

In the distance, one of the clan dogs began to howl. Another picked it up. Then a third.

Behind his dark glasses, he closed his black eyes and held back tears. A hand settled on his shoulder, claws resting on his collarbone. When he looked down, Kiba's diminutive mother stood there, her own wet eyes on the new grave. He leaned into her touch for just a moment, and then turned away.

**
Then

"Kiba should be back soon."

Shino's shoulders tightened. With a deep breath he relaxed them, inhaling and exhaling through his nose. He didn't look at Hinata, but rather picked up his sake and sipped. "Is that so?" he asked neutrally. He knew what was coming next. It always came next, and his answer was always the same. 'When I'm ready.'

Hinata put down her cup and linked her hands in her lap. "Are you ever going to forgive him?"

For a long moment Shino debated giving the answer he'd grown accustomed to. Finally, though, he just shook his head. It had been a year and a half since they'd married, and not much less than that since he'd caught Kiba cheating on him. More than year had passed since he'd moved out, giving him time for old wounds to seal over. It was with numbness that he realized he'd stopped hurting months ago. At first it had been hard, but he'd drowned himself in clan needs. In missions. And somewhere between then and now... he'd stopped agonizing over Kiba.

Time did, indeed, heal all wounds.

When his silence lengthened, Hinata sat forward. "He hasn't had a drink since you left. And he hasn't slept with anyone else. He's been good -- just taking missions and--"

The slightest lift of his fingertips halted her flow of words. "Hinata," he murmured slowly, trying to sort out his own emotions as he spoke. "I know he's turned a new leaf. I'm glad for him. But... it's been a year since I've seen him. I find..." He trailed off, trying to be sure that his next statement was true. When he realized it was, he continued. "I don't miss him anymore. It's easier to go on without him."

Time healed all wounds. Or at least, he thought, stopped them from bleeding.

**

"Shino, what do you think? This?" Yukio held up a formal kimono, then lowered it and held up another. "Or this?"

"I think," Shino said blandly, and then forced his words to catch in his mouth. It may have been a year, but the time spent with Kiba had marked him. Others in the Aburame clan had commented on his blunt speech; he was trying to censor it. He took a deep breath and focused, remembering that while he considered this distress over wardrobe to be unnecessary, it was deadly serious to his cousin. "I think Aimi would appreciate either, but the first will flatter her own sense of style better." He'd paid attention to her style, for Yukio's sake. It was impossible, according to clan dictates, to be too well prepared -- whether that was on a mission or when courting. As the clan heir, he'd been drilled in everything he might ever need to know. The knowledge was still there, even if his marriage to Kiba had stripped him of that title.

It had shifted to Yukio. The fact that Shino was now married only in name and didn't have the ability to be clan head, either, hadn't escaped him. He tried to be happy in the role of adviser. Yukio needed quite a lot of advising, so at least it kept him busy.

"Her style. Right." Nodding, Yukio set the second kimono aside and began to change, movements lacking their usual grace. Shino kept his expression impassive, resisting the urge to show amusement. The clan approved of the match between Yukio and Aimi, so it would likely go ahead no matter what Yukio wore. Shino refrained from pointing that out.

Perhaps, he thought as Yukio changed behind a screen, it was time to file papers for divorce. His stomach tightened, kikaichuu buzzing uncomfortably beneath his skin. Then again, it might cause problems for the clans. It was only his and Kiba's marriage that had stopped the bickering, after all. Yes, that was true. Better to remain married, even if it was a sham. Kiba hadn't filed for divorce, either.

"Shino! I can't tie this!"

He pushed up from his seat, stepping behind the screen to see where Yukio had gone wrong. "Calm, cousin," he murmured, adjusting the obi and setting it to rights. "Remember who you are."

Yukio took a deep breath. An almost visible mantle of restraint settled over him, and the hum of his bugs quieted. "Aburame."

Shino finished adjusting the obi and stepped away. "That's right," he said softly. "Aburame."

**

There was a figure waiting for him as he walked back to his clan apartments, a small set of rooms gifted to him when it became clear he wasn't moving back in with Kiba. The figure was too hunched to be Aburame, sitting with elbows resting on knees and hair in disarray. Shino detached a kikaichuu to fly ahead, unable to make out features with the setting sun behind the other person.

He kept walking as the kikaichuu flew to and from. Yukio had gone off to see his future fiance, managing to cling to his dignity. It would be a good meeting, though the girl's mother would be there and they wouldn't have much time to speak alone. Arranged marriages were like that.

The bug returned, settling into his skin with a burst of pain he didn't notice and a tiny flare of chakra. The figure on his porch was Inuzuka, female, short, edging into her late forties. Harried, worn, her face ashen and lined with exhaustion. Inuzuka Tsume. Kiba's mother.

Shino's steps slowed. He could imagine all manner of reasons for her to be there, and most of them centered on reconciling him with Kiba. He wasn't ready for that. He was enjoying his solitary life again. He'd learned to live without his husband, and no amount of Hinata's prompting or his friends telling him how much Kiba missed him and how careful Kiba was being would change that.

Even with his steps slowed, however, he reached her eventually. Shino stopped, gave a short bow, and kept his voice from sounding clipped. "Tsume-san."

She looked up at him, and he knew in a single glance that she wasn't there to try and reconcile them. Her eyes were flat, her expression unbearably weary. "Kiba..." Her voice faltered, and she looked back down at her sandals. He could see nothing but her head, hair spiking off in all directions. "And Akamaru," she continued finally, as if she hadn't stopped, "were brought back from their mission."

Brought back. The words clutched at his chest. His kikaichuu fell silent, waiting, as he did, to hear the rest.

Tsume's words dropped from her mouth, barely reaching his ears. She still hadn't looked up. "I think you should come."

**
Now

Tsume's hand on his shoulder tugged, gentle but irrevocable. "Come away. Come away, Shino."

He staggered back. The drizzle continued to fall, slowly soaking fur and faces, hiding tears the Inuzuka shed freely as they buried one of their own. Hiding his own, from others and himself. In the rain, even Aburame could feel release.

Again, Tsume tugged on his shoulder. He turned away from the funeral, and walked toward the tent Kiba had slept in as a teen. Before they'd gotten married.

It smelled like him, even to Shino's scent-blind nose.

**
Then

He stopped outside the room, held back by single paned glass. Through it, Konoha medics worked on a lean form swathed in bandages, penetrated by tubes, and pasted with seals. Dagger tattoos creased down pale cheeks, standing out like blood on snow.

Shino lifted his hand, placing it carefully on the glass. It was chill and smooth under his calluses. "What happened?"

Tsume stepped up beside him. "Ambush." The rest would be confidential until those in power decided what information their shinobi needed to know.

Slowly, Shino stepped back and looked around the hall. Others among the Inuzuka were littered in the corners, sitting on the floor like so many corpses tossed aside after a battle. They all looked haggard, leaning on their dogs or each other, hollow eyes staring out of pale faces. "Have you all been here long?" Shino asked, training in politeness kicking in while he reeled.

"Last night. Today."

An Inuzuka, a woman, looked up from her absent-gazed contemplation of her canine. "He wasn't the only one brought in."

His heart felt squeezed. He hadn't seen these people in almost a year -- not more than on the occasional mission or in the village -- but he'd known them before that. Known them well. They'd adapted to his presence in their clan territory with warmth and ease, welcoming him in when he'd visited Kiba. For the few months he and Kiba had been married and living together, they'd made themselves at home whenever and wherever they saw him.

And now several were hurt.

"Who?" Thinking about that was easier than looking at Kiba.

Heads turned, some looking up at the window next to where Shino stood, others the window farther down. With dread slowing his steps, Shino walked down the hall and peered into the medical bays. He only vaguely knew the man in the first, but the young girl in the second had pestered him one night mercilessly, teasing him at every chance to make him lose his vaunted self control. She hadn't managed it, and had promised to try again.

Last night. Today. And they'd only come for him now.

Grief tore at him. Grief for what he'd lost, and what he had yet to lose. Wordlessly, he walked back to Kiba's room as if pulled. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to see it. He'd been coming to grips with his life, learning to live without Kiba.

He couldn't see Kiba, now blocked by a medic. His heart pounded, bugs chittering under his skin in response to his anxiety. That earlier glimpse had been too much. Like ripping flesh off an abscess, he couldn't stop the pain from pouring out. As long as he hadn't seen Kiba, he could live without him.

He felt like he was bleeding out.

Shino turned away, slouching back against the window, closing his eyes behind his glasses. In silence broken by rubber-soled footsteps and the faint call of beeping machines, he slid to the floor and joined the other Inuzuka. Waiting.

**

The day

Dragged.

On.

In the late afternoon Kiba's sister, Hana, vet to all the Inuzuka canines, came out of a hospital room. She only shrugged at all the hopeful looks, and walked silently down the hall. Her hounds paced her, heads down, tails dragging.

One by one the other wounded Inuzuka began to wake. People were allowed into their rooms for moments at a time, to say hello, to let them know they were supported. The clan head arrived and spoke quietly with each Inuzuka, skipping Shino as if he weren't even there. Shino didn't mind.

Finally, Kiba's door opened and three of the doctors left. They were all pale and drawn, their chakra signatures low. The last one stopped, gaze flicking between Shino and Tsume, and said, "You can go in. He's sleeping. That's best, right now."

Shino rose, wincing at the soreness in his joints, at the grind of cartilage against bone in his knee. Old injuries tended to stiffen up.

Kiba lay still and quiescent, a tube taped into his mouth. Shino knew it went down his throat, breathing air into lungs that didn't want to do it themselves. It wasn't a good sign.

Most of Kiba was wrapped in bandages and seals, tucked beneath a thin white sheet. The temperature in the room was high. There was still blood crusted around the edges of his nose.

Tsume edged into a chair on one side of the bed, adding the creak of plastic to the beep of machines. Eventually, Shino followed her lead, settling himself in the other chair. He didn't want to touch Kiba. He was afraid he'd leave a bruise, break fragile bones. He saw his hand moving anyway, sliding carefully under lax fingers until he could support Kiba's hand. He picked it up, covered it with his other, and stared down at the dusky tan knuckles that peeped out from between his own pale fingers.

Tsume rose when a doctor entered the room, leaving Shino to sit with Kiba. "How is he?"

It was the important question to ask, but Shino was afraid of the answer. Moreso, when the doctor's mouth tightened into a thin line and he shook his head. "It's too early to know. His chakra system is devastated. His kidneys were damaged. Four broken ribs, a punctured lung, his left foot's shattered." The doctor shook his head again, as if somehow he could deny what he was telling them. "We don't know."

Tsume nodded. Very carefully, Shino traced the veins on the back of Kiba's hand, trying to center his mind.

This shouldn't matter so much. He was going to spend the rest of his life without Kiba, anyway. He'd already planned on it. Whether Kiba was dead or simply gone...

But it did matter. Shino closed his eyes behind his glasses, refusing the dampness he felt. A few days ago, he'd have denied wanting Kiba in his life anymore. But faced with the possibility of losing his husband, he had to admit that he'd taken comfort in always knowing that Kiba was there, if he just reached out.

He smoothed his thumb gently over wind roughened knuckles. Callused, slightly chapped, ending in fingers tipped with deadly claws. Scars danced over the flesh, old wounds long healed.

He was so still.

"He'll pull out of it." With a start, Shino realized those were his own words. He'd spoken. He licked his lips, aware of Tsume's gaze on him, and kept looking at Kiba. "He's never given up on a single thing. He won't give up on this, either." He couldn't. He couldn't.

**

They'd made Shino leave. He'd waited in the hall for most of the night, until a nurse took pity on him and found him a cot. Half the other Inuzuka were there, too, taking shifts to be sure those wounded always had a clan member nearby.

In the morning, the doctor checked Kiba and allowed Shino back in. Tsume had to leave; clan business to take care of. Never before had Shino been so glad he was no longer the clan heir.

He was sitting there when the alarm went from a soft beep to a screech, when Kiba's chest collapsed and remained still. For half a second he froze. Then training kicked it, and he planted both hands on Kiba's chest and shoved.

If he could keep Kiba's heart beating, Kiba would breathe. Shino repeated that to himself as doctors and nurses finally came swarming in, an instant eternity later.

They shoved him aside without preamble, hands glowing golden with healing energy, machines charging for use. Shino staggered out of the way, hit the door, and reeled around the frame into the hall.

The machines kept screeching behind him.

**
Now

The dogs kept howling behind him. He closed the flap that had served Kiba as a door for so many years, feeling the warmth from the fire in the corner. Breathing deeply took away the choked feeling in his throat, and a few moments cleared his vision.

Then he opened his eyes, and glanced around the small room. It was dim, lit only by the fire, sunlight kept out by heavy canvas siding. It smelled of stale sweat and woodsmoke, old fur and weapon oil. The dirt floor left everything with a fine patina of dust, though it had been raked clear over and over throughout the years.

A voice called his name, a barely heard croak, and he looked at the bed. A nest made of blankets and furs, tossed together in a haphazard jumble.

Outside, the dogs howled a crescendo and went silent.

The blankets moved, and a pale face, still half bandaged, peered out. "Shino?" it said again.

"Here." He stepped forward, into the firelight, and watched Kiba's expression ease.

Kiba smiled wearily, exhausted from his body's efforts to heal and his ongoing grief. "Hi."

**
Then

They'd pulled him through. Somehow, they'd pulled him through.

Shino sat in the half light from the lamp in the corner, watching Kiba sleep. Tsume sprawled in another chair on the other side of the room, and every so often she let out a quiet snore. If Shino were any kind of smart, he knew he should follow her example. But he couldn't sleep.

At least the nurses had decided to let them stay tonight.

The door opened, letting through a shaft of light before a slight figure slipped in and closed off the glow behind her. She leaned there, her hands still clutching the knob, her eyes shining pale gray.

"Over here," Shino murmured. Hinata looked at him, then carefully made her way across the room, feeling through the dark.

"I came as soon as I heard. How is he?" She found Shino and took his arm, more for herself, he thought, than him.

"He's... we don't know." Shino turned back to look at Kiba, still comatose, still pale. Shino's heart twisted in his chest. Outwardly, he remained calm. "I made a mistake."

Still holding onto his arm, Hinata reached for the other chair and slid it quietly over. She sat down, her nimble fingers never letting go of Shino's sleeve. "It was understandable, that you were upset."

His lips twitched; the closest he'd come to a smile. Leave it to Hinata to know exactly what he was talking about. "Not that. I don't regret kicking him out."

"Good." The word was strident, firm.

He looked up in surprise, his eyes behind his glasses meeting the pale, slit-pupiled ones across the room. So like Kiba's, and yet so different. Softer in shape, though Kiba had her same thick lashes. Older, wiser, though. "I thought you were sleeping," Shino said.

"I was." Tsume grimaced and pulled her legs in, rubbing her back. "You were right to kick him out. He was a jackass. Now tell me how you screwed up."

He didn't glance at Hinata, though he wanted to. Neither did he look at Kiba. "Your son's in a coma, and you're telling me he's a jackass?"

Tsume shrugged. "His current state doesn't change his past actions. But we were talking about you."

One eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. But then, this might be the only chance he had to make things right. If Kiba never woke... He wouldn't think about it. Kiba would wake. "When he proved he wasn't going to do it again. Even without me there..."

Hinata's grip tightened on his arm, in support of him this time.

He took a breath and continued. "When he changed things, and kept them changed even without a word from me, I should have given him another chance."

Tsume nodded, tight lipped and hard eyed. "Well. You have your opportunity now."

Against his will, knowing nothing had changed but unable to squash hope, Shino looked down at Kiba.

Only the machines kept his chest rising and falling. Only the machines kept him alive. There was no flicker of consciousness in his ravaged body. "I don't see how." Shino couldn't quite keep the bitterness from shading his tone.

Tsume stood, stretched, lean muscles cording under tough skin. "Explain it to him, princess," she drawled, then turned and headed out of the room.

Shino glanced at Hinata, wondering if she did, indeed, know what Tsume meant. After all, she was female.

But she only shrugged helplessly. "Maybe... because you're here now?"

"He's not awake for it to matter." For an instant, pain boiled under the surface. His kikaichuu swarmed beneath his skin in agitation.

Hinata rubbed his arm, looking just as distressed as he felt. She was the outlet for emotions he couldn't express. "I know. I'm sorry."

**

Shino wasn't there when Kiba woke. He went pelting up the stairs after the Inuzuka found him in the cafeteria to tell him that Kiba'd regained consciousness and to come quick.

Five floors seemed almost impossible, even with chakra pumping into his muscles. The kikaichuu might keep him from doing major jutsu, but he could channel chakra.

Hope surged through him, driving him forward. Kiba was awake. Kiba was awake. Maybe Tsume was right. Maybe he'd have his chance.

He slammed through the doors to the fifth floor, nearly smiling as he pelted down the hall.

Someone was screaming. Kiba was screaming. Joy twisted into fear, and he shouldered past one of many Inuzuka standing around the doorway.

Doctors and nurses fought with Kiba, while his own mother had her arm around his neck, trying to hold him down. He was screaming and sobbing, voice hoarse from the intubation and pain. "He's dead! He's dead!" Kiba wailed, one clawed hand twisting free to scratch at Tsume's arm. "Let me go -- he's dead--"

"He's not dead, baby, I promise you, he's not dead," Tsume yelled back, refusing to let go even as bloody red gashes opened up on her arm. An orderly grabbed his wrist and dragged it away.

"Move," a doctor shouted, and two nurses wrenched themselves out of the way, giving him room to slide a needle into the IV, depressing the syringe.

Shino could only watch in horror as Kiba's limbs grew seemingly heavy, whole body becoming lethargic. "No," Shino whispered as his lover -- his husband -- started to drift away again. He shoved into the room. People stepped aside for him now. Certain, he thought, that the fight was over. Kiba was sliding away.

Shino grabbed the bed, grabbed Kiba's hand, put his other hand on Kiba's shoulder. Kiba looked at him, then away, still sobbing but now unable to fight. "He's dead," Kiba whispered, "he's dead."

Someone pulled Tsume away, trying to clean the wounds on her arm. Shino looked at her helplessly. "Who's he talking about?"

"He's -- give me this!" She yanked her arm away from the nurse and grabbed a role of bandage. Binding her arm, she strode back over, tying the cloth off with her teeth. "He's talking about Akamaru. Kiba. Kiba!"

His head rolled toward her. Slit pupils were dilated, his skin mottled red, tear tracks down his face.

"He's not dead! I swear, he's alive."

"I can't feel him." It was an accusation and bleak resignation all in one, eyes swimming.

"He was hurt, cub. Very badly. But he is alive. He's with your sister, in another room, where she can work on healing him. I wouldn't lie to you. He's alive."

Drugs made Kiba unable to fight, but the horrible grief couldn't be eased. Shino slid an arm under Kiba's neck and shoulders, drawing him up and in. He was so light, frail, and tucked against Shino's chest like something breakable. "It's okay," Shino murmured, too soft for anyone but Kiba to hear. "He's alive. I promise." Shino hoped that wasn't a lie.

Breath puffed against his chest, arms hanging limply down, as Kiba continued to cry. Shino's heart lurched when he saw the doctor bring another syringe in, inject something more into the IV line. The doctor looked at him and frowned, more in apology than anything else. "He needs to rest."

Shino nodded, even as every bit of him wanted to object. He'd just gotten Kiba back, and they were going to knock him out again. But it was best. He knew that. This sort of emotional pain wouldn't help Kiba heal. He knew that.

It was still hard, as the slight figure crushed against him faded slowly to stillness. Across the room, Tsume finally allowed a nurse to look at her arm. Her gaze, though, stayed painfully on Shino and Kiba.

**
Now

Kiba wasn't sure where Shino found the smile. It was barely nothing, an upward tip at the corners of his mouth, but it was there.

Kiba couldn't find the energy to smile back. Couldn't find the emotional strength. Could barely find the strength to keep breathing, as one lone dog howled a single, haunting melody for its fallen companion.

Human voices began to chant. Kiba's eyes filled, and he closed them so Shino wouldn't have to see. It was too late, though. A moment later the bed dipped, and Shino laid down beside him, wrapping him up in strong arms and holding him close.

**
Then

Shino wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping for, when he woke with a start.

"This is a bad idea," Hana said, hands flapping as she followed a gurney into the room. "I don't have the space here I need to work. Not really."

Tsume shot an answer back, her face hard. "You said yourself that he was better. He'll do fine in here -- and it'll keep Kiba from panicking again, if he can see that Akamaru's alive."

Shino felt Kiba stir against him, and tightened his grip as if he could keep Kiba at peace. "You're bothering him."

Tsume gave Shino a pointed look, and went back to placing Akamaru along the other wall. Shino settled back, disgruntled but refusing to show it. He had no idea what that look had been for.

Hana bustled about, setting up IV lines and tubes, painting the floor with quick, sure strokes, covering the tiles in twisted seals.

Akamaru was skin and bones under the sheet they'd laid across him, his eyelids so relaxed they'd opened slightly, showing a strip of pink inner lining. He looked dead. Shino shifted his grip on Kiba, tucking the slim body closer. "I'm not sure having him here is better."

Tsume glared at Shino again. "I'm not sure someone who's been gone for a year should get a say."

He pulled back, stung. She was right, of course. He'd been gone. He'd left voluntarily and refused any overtures of reconciliation, even after Kiba had quit drinking and slutting around at the clubs. He'd never known Kiba to stay away from loud music and sweaty dancing for more than a couple of weeks -- and that only if he were on a mission.

Tsume tugged at Akamaru's blanket, then walked over to where Kiba lay and put her fingertips on his wrist, checking his pulse despite the machine beeping quietly in the corner. "You fucked up, pal," she muttered under her breath. "And then he nearly dies, and you run back in here thinking everything will be just fine."

"I don't--"

She cut over his words. "He fucked up, too, but if you hurt him again, I'll gut you. We clear?" Pale eyes caught and held his, even through his glasses.

Shino's jaw tightened. "You said I had the chance to make it up to him. I'm taking it."

"You do have the chance. I can't say I'm glad you're taking it, but I'm sure Kiba will be. Even still, if you fuck up again," she leaned toward him, dropping her voice, "I will hunt you down." For a long moment she held his gaze, keeping him pinned with the weight of her anger.

He nodded cautiously.

Tsume leaned away, stepped back, and finally turned to Akamaru and Hana. "Anything I can do to help?"

Shino tuned them out, looking down at Kiba, still asleep. Shino wasn't going to be turned into the villain here. But he could understand a mother's concern.

**

The world was wrapped in cotton and stuffed underwater. It was hard to open his eyes, hard to understand the voices around him. He drifted in and out for what seemed like eons before his mind started to work reliably again. He could smell his mother, his sister, Akamaru. And Shino.

Lethargically, he forced his eyelids open. And remembered.

The battle. The ambush. Watching teammates and family get torn down in the blink of an eye.

He closed out the world, and reached along his chakra pathways to his canine friend.

And found those chakra pathways twisted and blunted, burned out to something unusable or simply shattered. He couldn't find a way through to Akamaru. Akamaru was gone.

His eyes opened, breath coming in hoarsely. He pushed away from the man holding him, struggling against arms. He had to find Akamaru.

Then someone turned him, and he heard his mother's voice, "It's okay. Look -- look. He's right here. He's alive."

It looked nothing like his friend, his companion in mind and heart, the only creature who'd ever loved him, adored him, no matter what. But it was Akamaru. And Akamaru was breathing.

Kiba relaxed, panic leaving his body on a broken sob. He tried to reach out, but Akamaru was too far and lifting his arm was too hard. "I--" Pain sliced at his throat. He spoke anyway. "I can't feel him. Ma--" He looked at her, pleading that there wasn't something so horribly wrong, that it was just exhaustion.

"I know. It's okay. Your coils were damaged, but the doctors are doing everything they can to fix it." She sat down on the bed, and he became aware that he was nearly upright, too, still cradled against a hard chest. She reached out, smoothing her hand through his hair. "You need to rest, too. We're glad to have you back, but you need to rest."

He wanted to protest. To say he didn't need to rest, he needed Kuromaru. To tell someone what had happened. The mission wasn't over until he'd reported in.

But sleep tugged at him, and grief dragged him down. He curled against the hard chest, felt an arm move to hold him more comfortably, and closed his eyes. It was easy to give into exhaustion.

**

"What does it mean, that he can't feel Akamaru?" Shino asked softly, settling back against the headboard with Kiba tucked safely in his lap and against his chest.

Tsume only glowered and left the room, angry at the world.

"It means," Hana said, "that his chakra pathways are badly damaged. We already knew that. It means that if Akamaru lives -- and that's a big if -- the best Kiba can hope for now is that he'll have some connection."

Shino shook his head, not understanding.

With frustration lacing every movement, Hana scraped her hands back through her long hair and turned to face him, leaning against Akamaru's gurney. "Inuzuka have chakra coils that extend to our canines. It's why we can do the jutsu we do. If you chop them, we can't do our jutsu. Best case scenario, a crippled Inuzuka might be able to re-learn how to use his chakra like a normal ninja does. But his coils will still have been ruptured. There will be scar tissue to work around, and they'll never function as well as they did. A jounin would drop to chuunin, if they're lucky.

"Worst case scenario -- well, worst case scenario they die." Shino tightened his grip, and Hana frowned. "That won't happen here. Here, the worst case scenario--" her gaze flickered down to Kiba, then back up bleakly. "--is that he and Akamaru will still be connected, and the dual trauma will stop him from accessing his chakra. He won't be a ninja. Even genin have some use of their chakra."

Both of Shino's eyebrows gathered inward. "He'd... have to retire. You can't even teach, if you aren't a genin."

Hana's gaze dropped, and didn't come back up. "Yeah."

"That would kill him."

She nodded silently. "We're doing what we can," she said at last.

Shino resisted the urge to demand they do more. They wanted Kiba to thrive as badly as he did. There was no point in arguing with reality. What would happen, would happen.

Now they just had to hope Akamaru pulled through.

**

Kiba spent days wandering in and out of consciousness, drugged or not, letting his body heal. He was mostly unaware of the passage of time, and only knew it took days because sometimes when he woke, it was dark, and sometimes it was light.

Sometimes his ma was there, and sometimes Shino was there. He was always surprised when Shino was there. Once, Shino's father was there, and that surprised him even more.

It was afternoon when he found himself more awake than not. Awake enough to know what was going on, and to request food. That afternoon, Shino was gone.

Kiba was glad. He didn't know what to think about the fact that Shino was suddenly around. It scared him, in a way -- meant things were really bad. And more than that, it confused him. He'd resigned himself to never seeing Shino again. To having a ghost of a husband -- because Shino hadn't offered divorce, and Kiba wouldn't. But he wouldn't cheat, either. He'd never meant to screw up that badly, even as he knew on some level he'd exactly meant to screw up that badly. He'd been scared. He'd wanted out. And in a way, he'd gotten it.

And then he hadn't wanted it anymore.

Now, as it had been for the last year, he just wanted Shino back. But he didn't understand why Shino was back. He didn't know if it would last.

He glanced at Akamaru as they set up his food tray, placing it carefully over his lap. He was still too weak; they didn't trust him to hold it himself. Truthfully, he didn't trust himself to hold it, either. Still watching Akamaru, he asked, "How is he really?"

His mother wouldn't look at him. "He'll be fine."

It took too much energy to be angry, but he drummed up frustration. "Really." His mother still wouldn't look at him. He turned to Hana, instead, knowing that his sister wouldn't lie to him. Tsume looked at Hana, too, but it was a dagger glare.

Hana's eyes flicked between them, then finally steadied on Kiba. "He's not well."

With a noise caught between annoyance and distress, Tsume left the room. When she was gone, Hana took over setting up his food tray, talking quietly.

"He's absorbed all the healing seals we dare use. His chakra pathways are really twisted. They were burned out in the attack. Some of them are ruptured, and that kind of injury can't be repaired. He broke his spine, Kiba. If he makes it, he'll walk, but..."

Kiba's appetite was gone. "We'll never be like we were," he whispered.

"No." Hana leaned in, placing a kiss on top of his head. "You'll never be like you were."

The door opened. Reluctantly, Kiba looked up. Shino halted, surprise flickering across his face in the twitch of his eyebrows, the tightening of muscles. Then he stepped in and closed the door behind him. "You're awake."

Hana glanced between them, and left.

The joy Kiba felt at seeing Shino was tempered heavily by grief for what he'd lost, and the anticipation of pain. Confusion, tension -- he didn't know what to expect. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to say he loved Shino, he was glad Shino was there, he never wanted Shino to leave again, he wanted to forgive, even if they couldn't forget. He couldn't say any of it.

Shino slid his hands into his pockets. "You were hurt."

"I've been hurt before."

The briefest downward twitch of his lips touched Shino's face. "You haven't almost died before."

"You haven't cared in a year." Anger bubbled up, anger at everything -- Shino, being left, screwing up in the first place, Akamaru hurt and his life stripped away. It burst out at Shino, the barriers Kiba normally used to control his temper worn down by injury and exhaustion. "I just got used to being without you, Shino, why'd you have to come now?" To his horror, he heard his voice crack and choked back anything else before he lost control entirely.

Shino stood, frozen, and whispered, "I'm sorry." Then he moved, hands out of his pockets, coming across the room to shove Kiba over in bed, move the food tray aside, and wrap Kiba up in his arms. "I'm so sorry. I forgot. I forgot how much I love you and miss you and -- gods, I'm sorry."

Kiba wiped his nose on Shino's shirt. Petty revenge, but he didn't care. "I hate you right now." Then he curled his hand into Shino's clothes, tearing small holes with his nails. He didn't care about that, either. He was tired, and hurting, and already grieving for the loss he faced in the coming weeks. "Don't leave again."

"Don't cheat on me again."

"I won't."

"Me neither."

It seemed so easy, somehow, to slip back into place. Here, where he belonged, taking comfort in the man he'd known since childhood, had fallen in love with in his teens, had married as an adult. Even while everything else was so wrong, this was right.

**
Now

How could they care so much about a dog? Shino didn't say it, wouldn't say it, knew better. It was the end of a companion. He'd seen how Akamaru had helped Kiba, had been friend and confidante no matter what was going on. They'd been inseparable.

It wasn't just a dog. It was a friend. Even he would miss this friend. He'd learned they were more than animals, and he grieved with the other Inuzuka.

And to add injustice to heartbreak, it was the end of a ninja.

While the smell of the pyre rose, following the hollow chanting and the haunting canine wail, Shino pulled the furs over both of them and held Kiba close. Kiba was silent, but Shino could feel the hitch in his chest, the tremble in his shoulders, and knew that tears rolled slowly down his lean face.

Shino didn't know what other comfort to offer.

**
Then

Kiba sat in bed, the blankets pulled up to his waist. He knew the temperature in the room was high; the intel agent seated nearby sweated continuously. Still, he was cold. Injuries, the doctor had told him. His body was working too hard to heal itself, and couldn't keep him warm as well.

"And then?"

His attention wandering was another sign of his overtaxed body. With difficulty, he dragged his focus back to the intel agent. The very patient intel agent. Where had he been?

"After you reached the foothills?"

Right. "We made camp. They'd crossed the river, and we figured it'd take time to find their trail again. It was getting dark, so..." Camp had seemed like a good idea, even to the Inuzuka tracking team. They'd been exhausted, after three days of hard running, pausing only to nap instead of sleeping, racing even through the dark of night and trusting their dog's eyes rather than their own. Following their noses, until they'd hit water.

Camping had been a mistake. "We set up a watch. I don't know how they snuck up on Hotaru."
He frowned, something tickling at the back of his memory. "No... wait. I do. They had no scent. They'd blocked it. Figured out that's how we were following them." Set a trap.

It had been an elegant trap.

Kiba shivered and pulled his blanket up, wincing with the movement. The intel agent -- Kiba couldn't seem to remember his name -- sat forward to help. "They snuck up on Hotaru?" the agent prompted quietly.

"Yes. Slit his throat. Didn't take into account Aoko. She sounded the alarm, and ripped the throat out of Hotaru's killer." There was a savage pleasure in that. Kiba's team had been beaten, but not without fighting back.

And they'd held out until help came.

"And then?"

Kiba's gaze traveled over Akamaru, who lay still and silent. His head felt heavy. "Is it extra cold in here?" It had to be. He shivered again.

The door opened, and his doctor walked in. He knew she'd been watching through the window; apparently she'd seen enough. "That's all for now, Hiro-san. He needs to rest."

"We need to debrief him--"

"He needs to rest." The doctor pulled the blanket up higher, checked Kiba's pupils and pulse, then turned the thermostat up another notch. "You can have the rest of your debriefing later."

Lips pressed tightly together, Hiro stood and gave a short bow. He walked out of the room as Tsume and Shino walked in.

"I'm okay," Kiba protested, though he thought he could fall asleep right then and there. "I'm fine. Really."

The doctor snorted, checking readings. Hana shouldered her way in to look over Akamaru, and apparently didn't like what she saw. Her scowl seemed to take over the room. Kiba couldn't look away. She said nothing, though, simply added something to his IV and pulled a new roll of seal-painted strips out of her medical case. She changed out his old bandages, soaked through with blood and serum, and put the seals on over his wounds before she re-bandaged them.

"Do you want something to eat?" Shino asked.

Kiba dragged his gaze away from Akamaru. "No. I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something," Tsume protested.

Kiba just shook his head, shifting far enough to lean against Shino's side. Shino smoothed his hair down, threading fingers through it. He was tired, that was all. Tired and worried -- and hurting now, though he knew he was on medication for that. He winced and tried to move his leg into a more comfortable position, but it only made the pain flare up worse.

"You feeling that?" the doctor asked, ever sharp-eyed.

"I guess." He watched unhappily as the doctor injected more drugs into his IV, knowing they'd make his mind fuzzy. Everyone seemed to think fuzzy was better than hurting, but he wasn't sure he agreed.

From down the hall, a low howl began. It rose, joined by two more dogs. Tsume's hound and all three of Hana's, sprawled around the room, sat up. Hana's boys leaped to their feet, claws scrabbling on the linoleum, and raced out the room.

"No," Hana groaned, and ran after them.

Tsume's dog, Kuromaru, tipped his head back and added his howl to the others. Doctors and nurses began to run past the door. Someone screamed.

Akamaru didn't twitch.

"Ma?" Kiba asked softly, begging with her to tell him everything was fine. She looked at him, stricken, and then strode to the doorway. There, she waited.

As suddenly as they'd started, the dogs stopped howling. Faintly, Kiba could hear someone sobbing. His grip tightened on Shino, and he buried his face in Shino's chest.

"What's going on?" Shino asked. "What's happened?"

Kiba heard his mother leave, and return a few minutes later. "Haiiromaru's gone. The doctors are with his human."

**

This wasn't how Shino had expected to reconcile with Kiba. Truthfully, he hadn't ever expected to reconcile with Kiba. He'd become passive about it: if fate threw them together again, he wouldn't fight it. But he wouldn't seek it out, either.

He hadn't thought fate would throw them together like this.

Carefully, gently, he ran the washcloth over Kiba's hair, all too aware of how weak Kiba was. From the basin beside him, he soaked the cloth in warm water and did it again, rinsing out the traces of soap.

Inuzuka noses were sensitive, and while they picked up a great deal of information through scent, Kiba was all too aware of how strongly he smelled. Hana had forbade them from bathing Akamaru, though he was far dirtier. Akamaru still hadn't so much as twitched toward consciousness. A quiet conversation with Hana a few hours earlier had given Shino more information than he'd wanted.

Akamaru's fever was rising, his organs unable to heal, his chakra fading.

The human partner to the dog that had died had been heavily sedated, to keep him from injuring himself. He said that without his dog, he didn't want to live.

Kiba would live. Even if Akamaru didn't, Kiba would. Shino hadn't regained him just to lose him now.

Across the room, Tsume and Hana had their heads tucked in a quiet and quick discussion, staring down at Akamaru. Tsume nodded once, and the women broke apart. While Tsume walked toward Kiba and Shino, Hana busied herself changing out Akamaru's IV bags, taking down the antibiotic he'd been on and switching it to a different one.

"Kiba," Tsume said.

His eyes opened, and it was only then that Shino realized they'd closed. For a moment Kiba had been at peace.

"Hana wants to operate on Akamaru."

"She said before he was too weak. He wouldn't make it."

Shino set the washcloth aside, putting his hands on Kiba's shoulders in silent support.

"She thinks there's internal damage. That something ruptured, and we didn't know. We were too focused on his spine. As it stands, he won't make it through another twenty-four hours."

Hana spoke from the other side, over her shoulder. "Operating is dangerous. It still is -- more so now than before. But he will die if we don't do something, and he might live if we operate. If I'm right."

Because his hands were on Kiba's shoulders, Shino felt the tension that rose. He kneaded the muscles, trying to help in what way he could.

"When are you going to take him?" Kiba's voice was thready.

Hana still didn't turn to look at them, as if it was too hard. "Now. They've cleared a room for him."

Wordlessly, Kiba nodded.

It didn't take much to roll the dog out. Two nurses and Hana following with the drugs. Kiba leaned against Shino, eyes closed.

Tsume growled something about checking on the others and stalked out the door. Moments later, Kiba spoke without opening his eyes.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without him."

Shino tightened his grip. "You're not going to die. You're not going to quit like that other Inuzuka did, because you're stronger than that."

When Kiba didn't respond, Shino felt panic close his throat. "Don't leave me." He ducked his head, brushing his nose over Kiba's hair. "Don't even think about leaving me."

Kiba took a ragged breath, then let it out slowly. "He might not make it."

"He might not," Shino agreed. "But you will."

Kiba's only response was a worn-out nod.

**
Now

Kiba should have been out there, with the others. It was his teammate being given back to the gods, after all. He curled closer to Shino, burrowing under the covers, and stretched his legs out to feel the soft fur that told him Akamaru was there, safe and sound.

**
Then

Kiba was asleep again. Shino figured that was for the best; the emotional strain of Akamaru's surgery, waiting to hear for any word about how Akamaru was doing, had exhausted Kiba. Finding out that Akamaru had pulled through and should be all right -- Hana had been correct -- had proven almost as draining, for both of them. Unshed tears had made the corners of Kiba's eyes raw.

Everyone was going to be all right.

Shino stood in the apartment he and Kiba had rented seventeen months ago. It was dusty, and the air was stale. There was no food in the fridge, but the trash was loaded with take out containers. None of the furniture had been moved. It looked as if Kiba had frozen things, as much as possible, the way they'd been when Shino had walked out the door.

Except this was Kiba, and so the place wasn't exactly clean.

Shino was unsurprised to find the cleaning products exactly where he'd left them. Working in welcome solitude, he started by taking out the trash and putting away the clean dishes in the dish rack. He tidied, dusted, swept, mopped. Washed dirty dishes, scrubbed down the kitchen and bathroom, changed the sheets on the futon, wiped off fingerprints around light switches and door handles. He straightened the clothes in the closet and the shoes by the door. He found his music, and put on something classical.

It took several hours, but he knew Kiba was just sleeping at the hospital, and there was nothing worse than coming home to a filthy apartment. And Kiba would be coming home, now. Maybe not for another week, but he'd be coming home.

**

"Don't strain."

"I'm not straining!"

Shino gave a small smile at the annoyance in Kiba's tone. Three more days in the hospital had put an edge on his temper, which had never been exactly benign. Three days in which he'd continued to heal, though the whole process would take weeks. He'd be on crutches for a while, and allowed no jutsu at all -- Hana's orders, because of Akamaru's pathway injuries.

"You look like you're straining."

"You look like a monkey."

Shino rounded the corner in time to see Hana threatening to bash her little brother over the head with a bedpan. She put it down and smiled.

Shino didn't respond, just looked at Kiba, taking in his appearance with a quick visual sweep. "How are you feeling?"

Kiba's glower deepened. "Fine."

"Fine my ass. He's got about a sixth of the chakra ability he had before, and he might get more back as it heals further, but only if he stretches his pathways without pushing." This last Hana said to the top of Kiba's head, raising her voice as if he might not hear otherwise.

"I wasn't pushing!" Kiba yelped.

"How's Akamaru?" Shino asked before they could degenerate into an argument. Again, from the sounds of it.

Hana waved a hand at the dog, who was sitting on his bed and blinking sleepily at Shino. "Better than his block-head of a partner."

Before Kiba could snap at her, Shino spoke. "I can take it from here, Hana, if you want to go check on your other patients."

With a dark look at her brother, Hana stalked out the door.

"How are you really?"

Kiba relaxed back into his hospital bed, obviously worn out. "Tired. Seems like I can't do hardly anything without getting tired."

Shino sat gingerly on the mattress, nodding his understanding. "It'll come back. Give it time."

"Some of the higher ups came by. They said that even though Akamaru and I won't be back to full strength, they won't strip my jounin rank. They're going to give me a year, and if I can get back up to high chuunin levels, then they'll let me have a genin team as a jounin sensei." He picked at the blanket that covered his legs, tearing off bits of lint and letting them fall.

It was a gracious offer. If Kiba only ever regained half of his ability to share chakra with Akamaru, they'd be unable to do most of the Inuzuka jutsu -- and he'd never be able to reach jounin levels again. From what Hana was saying, half was far more than Kiba could expect.

"Would you like that?" Shino asked carefully, wary of giving the wrong response.

Slowly, Kiba nodded. He looked up and offered a wobbly smile. "Yeah. We had a good team. I could teach more kids like that. Keep them alive long enough so they can make their own way. Train up little ninja. And if I can reach chuunin levels, I can still take chuunin missions."

"Do Hana and your doctors think..." He couldn't complete the sentence. Did they think it was possible?

He didn't have to. For years Kiba had been able to complete his sentences for him; nothing had changed. Everything had changed. "Yeah. It'll take a lot of training, and a long time, but they think it's possible."

Shino searched Kiba's face, reading that open expression and finding nothing but tentative hope.

There was one other thing, before they left for the funeral -- a funeral Hana wasn't happy about Kiba and Akamaru attending. Looking at Kiba, at his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes, at the way his fingers trembled from exerted effort, Shino couldn't blame her. But they had promised that Kiba and Akamaru would remain in their old tent, laying down, that they would only come out at the very end, that they would rest.

But before that, Shino needed an answer. He picked up Kiba's hand, tracing the edges of deadly claws. "And while you're training, in the meantime, will you live in the apartment? Or do you have to go back to the clan grounds?"

Kiba's answer was just as hesitant, feeling his way. "I'll need someone to help me with things, for a while. Crutches and all, you know..."

Shino nodded. "Well, I could hire someone to stay with you, at the apartment. Or I could hire someone to stay with you, only when I'm on a mission and can't help." He looked up, waiting for Kiba's reaction.

Kiba only nodded, his own gaze still down. "I'd like that. For you to be there, I mean." He glanced at Shino, and for just a moment Shino saw the smile he'd fallen in love with; that hopeful smile, as if Kiba were just waiting to let happiness spill out. "If you'd like to come back."

"I'd like to come back," Shino said. Kiba's smile bloomed across his pale face. Akamaru whined and laid down on his bed.

"I'm so glad," Kiba whispered, and would have leaned in for a kiss if he hadn't swayed sitting up.

Shino grabbed him, steadying him. "Maybe you should skip the funeral."

"He was my friend. I'm just going to be in bed, anyway. Stupid Hana won't let me stand..."

Shino knew better than to argue, especially since the doctors had already been over this a dozen times. He just nodded and went to fetch the wheelchair Kiba was being forced into. Carefully, Shino helped Kiba into the wheelchair, then waited for Hana to return with a cart for Akamaru. They all began the trek toward the Inuzuka compound, where a body waited for friends to say goodbye.

**
Now

Kiba swam in and out of sleep, even with the sounds and scents of grief around him. Shino rubbed his back, not untouched and blinking away tears.

"They were a good team," Kiba murmured in the cocoon of furs, coming awake again.

"As good as you and Akamaru?" Shino traced the line of Kiba's spine, wondering absently how long it would take to rebuild the muscle that had already been eaten away.

Against his chest, he felt Kiba smile. "As good as you and me."

Something fluttered in Shino's chest. Carefully, he leaned down and brushed Kiba's mouth with his own.

"I know it's another week, at least, but I can't wait to go home." Kiba closed his eyes.

Shino brushed his mouth over Kiba's lashes, his temple, his head. Akamaru shifted and stretched under the furs before whining softly and settling down again. "And I can't wait to have you there." This time, the words didn't need to be said. Shino said them anyway. "I love you."

Kiba smiled.

--End

---

Again, many thanks to those who've traveled with me. You're all welcome at my journal, any time. ;)

J