Stellar

8. Grief

Oop I'm not really good at emotional and sad stuff so bare with me—

Akamaru pawed at the closet door, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the door worriedly.

Kiba hadn't come out for almost 24 hours.

Tsume had tried to gently coax him out, but she always broke down and ended up sobbing, back pressed up to the door as she stared at the spot where it happened.

Akamaru whimpered, turned his head and walked away. He rushed out of the room, wishing not to smell the blood that still stained the walls.

::

Kiba heard Akamaru come and go.

He heard the shuddering breaths his mom took as she tried not to cry.

He screwed his eyes shut and buried his head deeper in his furs when the door creaked ajar and shaking hands belonging to his grief-stricken mother slid a plate of food in through the open crevice.

He could hear her.

Almost hauntingly.

Smell her, as if she was wrapping her arms around him once more and whispering soothing words. Or she threw her arm around his shoulder and laughed heartily.

His sister.

::

Sasuke bit his lip, staring at the Inuzuka compound through the gates.

He wasn't allowed in. But he could peer through and see the bold yellow tape crossing the home, with shinobi milling about and members of the clan whispering.

He would wait for one more week before Kiba returned.

But he didn't know that at the time. So he peered through the gate and hoped nothing terrible happened, and he worried over his star-obsessed friend.

::

Finally, after maybe the tenth time Tsume tried to form comforting words and ended up sobbing on the ground, hiccuping and apologizing, Kiba eased himself out and hugged her tightly.

He inhaled her warm, summery scent and weeped.

Because Hana Inuzuka was dead.

::

Sasuke couldn't care less about the lesson, honestly. It was tedious, just a long lecture on some dead shinobi that had barely influenced the world.

He cast a longing look at the door, and as if some cruel god had cackled and given him his wish, the door opened.

He wanted to see Kiba.

But not like this.

His eyes were sunken, with dark bags showing under them. His hair was messy and tangled, and his hand was shaking at his side. He looked miserable. Akamaru was his arms, looking almost equally tired and ruffled.

Kiba flinched as the class's attention snapped to him, and his hugged Akamaru tighter and walked past Iruka.

Iruka opened his mouth sternly, as if to scold Kiba by habit, before he shut his mouth and retracted his hand, gazing at Kiba's back with such sympathy, Sasuke wanted to vomit.