In which twenty-eight-year-old detective Kiba Inuzuka, crosses paths with a girl who turns his once orderly life into pure chaos. After finding out that she is his soulmate; it spells nothing but 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.
Warnings: infidelity, mature language...
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EVERYTHING hurt.
Kiba's feeble inner-voice counted the seconds in laggard attempt to distract himself from the pain to seep into every strained muscle - every aching bone inside his bruised body as the numbers progressed higher. Fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty; enervated eyelids finally fluttered open. The weary detective felt his brows knit tightly together from discomfort.
Nice to meet ya! Who could you be?
I am injury!
Kiba groaned.
He was alive. Felt heavy as an anchor shoved over the edge of a ship, and into the deepest part of a rowdy sea, but alive. Breathing, and pulsating with exhausting vigour. Overwhelming - the entire thing, to say the least. Even his mere existence deemed much too troublesome to handle.
The Inuzuka took a moment to survey the hospital room. Tried to adjust to the subtle lighting, whilst blinking away the glaze of blurriness his corneas were thickly coated with. He guessed that it was night-time; judging from the sliver of starless sky he had managed to grasp from the window.
His head felt hefty; filled with lead. Even turning it to the side on the lousy hospital pillow proved to be a devitalizing effort. Still, he did it. Because he was an idiot, and owned an unhealthy amount of curiosity which was worse than that of a cat's. He paid the price by watching the world begin to spin. Every spiral made him yearn for melatonin. He wanted to sleep forever, and then some more.
Doze off; just like his girlfriend and partner were doing right in that exact moment across the dimly-lit room. Oh, great Heavens. At the sight of them, Kiba's heart began to hammer against his aching ribs. Curled up in a set of uncomfortable-looking chairs - y/n and Naruto slept as cosily as the position allowed them.
Naruto sat sprawled across his chair, like he commanded the entire room. Both firm legs stretched out on the spotless linoleum floor, still dressed in those fancy grey trousers he had worn to court. No bloody blazer in sight. Kiba couldn't see his face, as his head was thrown back against the backrest - lips parting with each hushed snore and grunt of gibberish.
She, on the other hand, slept with her legs neatly tucked underneath her - nice and tidy, as he liked to call it. Pressed into the Uzumaki's side like a child in need of comfort; hiding underneath his arm that was draped around her smaller frame. As if Naruto himself had taken the role of her protector, whilst he was out there too busy frolicking in his dreamworld full of ninjas and their stupid fucking missions.
Kiba could barely perceive the tired body that was curled up against the Uzumaki, and lost inside the oversized folds of a warm hoodie he soon recognized as one of his own. Her cheeks - partially hidden behind strands of messy hair peeking from underneath the hood - were coated with dry reminders of once tear-streaked pathways.
