Rating: T+

Warnings: Crack treated seriously, fix-it, general shinobi darkness, headcanons, angst, off-screen character death, etc.

Word Count: ~4300 (complete)

Pairings: faint Neji/Kiba in passing

Summary: In the aftermath of the Akatsuki's attempt to capture Naruto, Kiba makes a choice. It's not a good one, but someone has to make it, and it may as well be him.

Notes: Because there was fanart on Tumblr and my self-control is, like, -200. I'm not even sorry.

Title from Hellfire by Barns Courtney.

lost in the woods (and I wander alone)

No one in their right minds would ever expect it of him, and that's why he's the one best-suited to the job.

"You're sure?" Tsunade asks quietly, her face a bare shadow in the darkness. They can't meet at the Hokage's office, or in the Inuzuka compound, can't meet near the kennels or anywhere anyone might see them. Tsunade only has one guard with her, the former exam proctor, and he's watching Kiba with dark eyes and un unreadable expression as he chews on the tip of a senbon.

Kiba's never been less sure of anything in his life. He takes a breath that shakes, but forces himself not to move. "Yeah," he says, hardly the confident, cocksure bark he means it to be, but at least it doesn't break halfway through. He tucks his hands into his pockets, trying to look at ease and knowing that he's failing, but he supposes it doesn't matter. "I overheard you and Jiraiya-sama talking, you know? You're not getting information right now, and we need it."

Tsunade's expression tightens, but she inclines her head just enough for it to be agreement. "You didn't even make chuunin," is all she says, though.

That stings, a little bit. Less than it did before he watched Naruto knock out a tailed beast, though. "Yeah," Kiba says again, and tries to ignore the empty space beside him where Akamaru should be. Inuzuka fight in pairs, and always have. Leaving Akamaru behind pretty much cuts his strength in half, but he's not about to ask his partner to do this. One of them should get to stay with the team, and it can't be Kiba.

He takes another breath, steels himself, and looks up to meet Tsunade's gaze. A faint tensing of his muscles is all the warning he gives before he drops low, launching himself forward from all fours. The guard jerks, caught off guard and lunges, but Kiba's trained with dogs who can bend and twist better than humans will ever be able to. He flips out of the way, pulling a kunai, and slides under the guard's senbon to come up at Tsunade's elbow, the kunai's hilt braced against her kidney.

There's a pause, completely silent, and then Tsunade makes a quiet sound of amusement. She drops the fist she had raised, touching Kiba's hair briefly in passing, and says, "Genma. How much can you teach him about making poisons in the next week?"

The guard's eyes flicker from Tsunade to Kiba and back again, and he slowly pulls himself out of a ready crouch and produces another senbon seemingly from thin air. "A week? Mm. If we skip the basics and go hardcore, enough to take out most jounin. Maybe a Kage, if he can catch them off guard."

Poisons. Kiba swallows as he steps back, dropping the kunai back to his side. He knows perfectly well that shinobi kill, and he knows his mother and sister have both killed, but it's another thing entirely to think about doing so in a way the Inuzuka Clan has always largely ignored. They're the type to face things head-on, frontal assault or nothing at all.

Something in the lines of Tsunade's face softens, gentles. She doesn't hug him, doesn't go down on one knee to meet his gaze, because he's a shinobi and she's his Hokage. But in any other situation, he thinks she would.

Then again, in any other situation, this wouldn't even come up.

"Children aren't built to fight," she says, and it sounds sad. When she sees Kiba open his mouth, she raises a hand to cut off his arguments. "Biologically. Children's reflexes are slower, they can't build muscle mass, and their bodies are still developing. Right now, you're going to need every advantage possible, and poisons are the best we can do in a very short time. If we had months instead of days, I'd teach you medical ninjutsu, but there isn't time."

It's easy to forget, sometimes, that medics make the best killers. Kiba swallows a shudder, secretly glad there isn't time for that but trying not to let it show on his face. He can either kill people or save them; he doesn't think he wants the knowledge to do both.

"All right," he says, glancing up at Genma, who gives him a crooked smile in return. And then, because neither Kurenai nor his mother failed to teach him manners, adds a touch awkwardly, "Thank you."

Humor flickers over the man's face. "Don't thank me until you see the textbooks I'm sending off with you, kid. Shiranui Clan secrets, and they'll make the Academy look like a cakewalk."

Kiba thinks about protesting, automatic in the face of schoolwork, but. Clans don't share their secrets easily. Don't share them at all, for the most part. Kiba grew up knowing about the Byakugan and the Aburame insects, but that's only because his mother was on a team with Shibi and Hiashi when she was his age. Anyone who doesn't have first-hand experience with the Clans is left in the dark. That Genma's offering his clans secrets so easily…

Well, Kiba knew it was an important mission, possibly the most important mission in the village right now, but that puts it into perspective a hell of a lot more.

"Still, thank you," he says, which is a poor effort at best, but the most he can manage. He glances back at Tsunade, sees the darkness creeping back into her expression and swallows. "So. What does a guy have to do to get made a missing-nin around here?"

The joke falls utterly flat, but Kiba needs to keep making them regardless or he's going to run away screaming. Thankfully, Tsunade seems to see that, because she doesn't object, though her mouth pulls tight. "Just a missing-nin would be easy—shinobi desert their villages all the time. But you're going to need to make S-rank, and that takes the murder of either a large number of people or one very important person."

It feels like there are rocks settling at the bottom of Kiba's stomach. He hasn't even killed one person yet, and now—

Wait.

Something he overheard Shibi and his mom talking about once flickers through his thoughts, and he curls his hands into fists at his side, thinking of Shino. "What—what about Danzō?" he asks, and this time his voice really does break, but he thinks it can be excused. That thought still feels like treason, even if he's technically discussing it with the Hokage herself.

There's a long pause as Tsunade studies him, eyes narrowed, and then says quietly, "Explain."

"Root," Kiba blurts, and when her eyebrows go up he hurries to add a more coherent explanation. "Danzō—Danzō took clan children for Root. Shino's cousin, too. The Hokage gave him permission, back then, but. But even when the Hokage disbanded root Torune was—" He doesn't want to say it. Doesn't even want to think it, really. He remembers being in the Academy with Shino, who came in so subtly glowing with happiness that Kiba had to ask why. Shino had said his cousin was coming home, and he'd waited weeks, months.

And then the Hokage had told Shibi that Root shinobi had been decommissioned since they weren't fit to reintegrate with the village. Kiba's never seen Shino look that gutted before. Not ever, and he never wants to see it again.

Genma makes a quiet sound that's definitely approval, and when Tsunade casts a look at him and raises a brow in silent question, he tips one shoulder. "Makes sense," he says lazily, though when his eyes fall on Kiba they're sharp the way his mom's get sometimes, when she's at her scariest. "Hell, he might even be the best possible choice. He's shady, but to most of Konoha he's a hero, even if he's not necessary anymore. And he's a dangerous bastard. Taking him out would be more than enough to earn S-rank."

Tsunade looks away, closing her eyes, and Kiba has never really wanted to be Hokage, not the way Naruto does, but right now he wants it even less. He doesn't ever want to have to make choices like this, one Konoha shinobi's life weighed against the good of the village. They have to be made, and he knows it—he might be a genin, but he's from a shinobi clan, and he's grown up with their ideals, or lack thereof—but he'd rather just follow orders.

Though it doesn't look like he's going to have all that many to follow, if this works.

"Fine," the Hokage says, quiet but steely. "I'll make that sacrifice. Kiba, you have a week with Genma to prepare yourself. If you can't take Danzō out, even with the element of surprise, this entire plan is worthless. You realize that? No one will help you with this."

He hadn't, but it makes sense. Unhappy, nauseating sense. Danzō has lived through three wars, and he headed Root for decades. Kiba is just barely a genin, and he's always been average. Not great, not terrible, a second child with no drive to inherit and no spectacular brilliance at any of his clan's techniques.

But.

But there's no choice.

"Yes, Hokage-sama," he says, and the words are so heavy on his tongue he almost trips over them as he speaks. He recovers before he can, thankfully, and bows to her with more care than he's ever put into the gesture before.

Above his head, there's a shaky breath, a bitten-off sound that's almost a word, and then the sound of retreating footsteps, just slightly too fast for complete composure. Kiba waits until they fade to glance up, and finds he's alone in the forest clearing with Genma.

The tokujo studies him for a moment, posture easy and eyes sharp, and then pulls the senbon from his mouth to flip it absently across the backs of his fingers. "You're quite the kid," he says, and the words are still lazy. "Most shinobi would have overheard what you did and ignored it, not volunteered to go undercover."

Kiba thinks about the argument he'd overheard delivering papers to the Hokage Mansion for Shizune. It was sheer luck that the door was unlocked, that he could let himself in and hear Jiraiya lamenting his lack of spies anywhere close to Akatsuki, how there was no way to even find the members. Tsunade had dryly offered to make him a missing-nin so they could recruit him, and…

Kiba closes his eyes, thinks of Naruto and his strained smile, the way those two Akatsuki members came after him, nearly killed Sasuke and Kakashi, threatened to cut his legs off when they kidnapped him. Naruto is one of his best friends, and to know that there's a threat to him, a shady group that wants to take him for reasons no one is quite sure of—Kiba hates that. Akamaru likes Naruto too, and Naruto has never thought Kiba was weird for being so attached to a dog. He's heard the jokes in the rest of the village—every Inuzuka has. The civilians don't get it, and a lot of the shinobi don't either. But Naruto had looked at them and called them friends, and Kiba might never admit it, but he's been Naruto's friend too ever since.

"Someone has to," he says, and it's what his mother says, what Hana says when they're called on the dangerous missions, the ones with every chance that they won't come back. Someone has to, and Kiba hasn't ever understood those words the way he does right now. They're not a cop-out, the way he once thought, but the honest truth, blunt and steady. This thing needs to be done, and they're in the position to do it, so they should. For the good of the village and all the people in it, they should.

He takes a shaky breath, and closes his eyes. "They might not even recruit me," he says, and can't tell if it's a prayer or a fear.

A callused hand curls over his shoulder for an instant, squeezing gently, and then Genma lets it fall. "They might not," he agrees, and somehow the honesty is more of a comfort than baseless confidence would have been. "But they recruited Itachi, and I think they'll jump on the chance to get one of Naruto's friends on their side." Another second of that steady gaze, and Kiba can't even begin to read what's behind it. But then Genma sighs, and he holds Kiba's eyes to say, "Spend tonight with your family. Make sure they know you love them. Then meet me here tomorrow, and we'll start with neurotoxins and how to focus on your anger enough that it becomes a mask."

He's gone before Kiba can say anything, abandoning the twilight clearing with a swirl of leaves, and Kiba watches them flutter down to settle on the earth, then takes a breath and presses his hands over his eyes. With a low groan, he slumps back against the nearest tree, sliding down to sit among the roots, and fists his hands in his hair.

Gods, what is he doing?

But he's already asked himself that too many times. Has already picked and prodded all his motivations, his fears, his determination.

Someone has to.

That's what being a shinobi is, in the end, he suspects. That's why Shikamaru made chuunin while the rest of them were still dicking around and bragging about fancy moves. Someone has to, and Kiba had heard about the threat to Naruto, to Konoha as a whole, had heard why Kakashi and Sasuke were both in the hospital and had just. Made a decision. Made the only decision he could make, and he thinks Tsunade and Genma both understand that.

No one who's ever met an Inuzuka, who's ever met Kiba in particular, will ever expect him of being a spy of any sort. Especially if he leaves Akamaru here, and while just the thought of abandoning his partner makes bile rise, Kiba knows he'll do it. Regret it, definitely, hate it, without a doubt, but…

Akamaru doesn't deserve to be labeled a traitor just for going along with Kiba's stupid ideas.

Focus on your anger, Genma said, and that makes more sense than Kiba would like it to. He's not an angry person, for all his bluster; indignation and affront pass easily, and he's mostly easygoing.

But if he had to be angry, all of the time and at everything…

It's frighteningly easy to call up the reasons. Second son, beaten by the class clown, overlooked for promotion, overlooked as an heir in favor of his firstborn sister, the younger child with something to prove and a dislike of authority. Hell, since most people don't pay attention to clan dynamics enough to figure out the Inuzuka are matriarchal, he could probably even play up the tired of taking orders from women angle, though that one makes him cringe a little inside. His mother and Hana would kill him.

Not that they won't already, granted.

The rest of Genma's advice was good, too, and Kiba's going to take it. He's going to stand up and go home and probably getting in a shouting match with his mother. He'll wrestle with Hana and groom Akamaru and drag the three of them into playing a game or something with him, and it will be a good night.

The last good night for a long time, maybe.

Very, very carefully, Kiba reaches up and unties his hitai-ate, cradling it in his hands as he stares down at it. If he's going to be training with Genma for the next week, he won't need to wear it, and—

He needs a symbol. Something to remind him of why he's doing this. He's not smart like Shikamaru or Neji or Shino, depends on physical things and learning through doing and repetition. Tangible things matter.

He braces himself, kunai in one hand and hitai-ate in the other, and closes his eyes.

Someone has to, he thinks, and pictures Sasuke in his hospital bed, Naruto beside him, trying to smile even when he looked like he'd rather cry.

The blade scores deep into the metal, cutting right through the image of the leaf, and Kiba presses his thumb to the jagged edge of the cut. It slices through the pad of his finger, and blood pools in the groove, in the lines of the leaf, and then traces bright-dark streams across the polished metal.

Kiba doesn't wipe it off, just carefully folds the cloth band around the plate and tucks it away in his jacket. Then he stands up, brushes himself off, and leaves the clearing with steps that are as steady as he can manage.

Someone has to.

"Kiba!" Hinata cries, and there's something so hurt in her voice that Kiba almost wavers.

Almost.

He's had practice playing the bastard, though. Four years of practice, at this point, and it's second nature by now. He turns, black cloak sweeping out around him, and doesn't allow himself to pray that they had time to get the Kazekage reinforcements before he could be captured. That kind of thing shows on his face, and he's mostly learned to stop doing it.

"Hey!" he says, maliciously cheerful, and waves mockingly. "If it isn't my old team. You guys are looking boring. Still spending all your time pathetically stalking Naruto, Hinata? And Shino, has anyone remembered your name yet?"

Shino's expression is mostly hidden behind his jacket and glasses, but Kiba can see the barb hit home with Hinata, the way she flinches back and falters.

He very carefully doesn't look at Akamaru, braced by Hinata's side and staring at him with eyes full of hurt and rage in equal measure.

"K-Kiba," Hinata stutters, then stops as Neji lays a hand on her shoulder.

"Inuzuka," Neji says, voice as cold as the arctic and expression bordering on outright loathing. "Surrender now."

Kiba rocks back on his heels, wondering when Tobi's going to show up. His partner has a habit of vanishing at the most inconvenient times. "You know, I had a crush on you," he tells Neji, not letting his grin falter. Using his knowledge of them, his relationship with them as ammunition never gets easier, but that's more of a relief than anything. Still, if it lets him get out of this without seriously fighting anyone, he's all for it. "'Course, you had a stick up your ass back then, and I didn't have any taste, so take that how you want to."

Neji makes a sound that in anyone less refined would probably be a growl, and settles into a familiar stance. "We have orders to bring you in alive if possible," he says darkly, "but if you force a confrontation I have no qualms ending this fight by any means necessary."

Kiba rolls his eyes and pulls his two long knives out of their thigh holsters. He'll never be great with senbon, and distance fighting still isn't his thing, but poisoned knives are a decent compromise. And, judging by the way Neji's eyes narrow, he's been warned about them.

(It's still so fucking weird that Kiba is someone they have to warn Konoha shinobi about. Warn all shinobi about, really. That's another thing Kiba doesn't ever want to get used to.)

"Well, you know me," he says, and forces another grin. "I'm always down to get wild."

Akamaru whines, low and sharp, and Hinata winces. Even Shino sucks in a breath. It takes effort for Kiba not to grimace; that honestly wasn't meant to hurt them, no matter how many times he said it as a genin. But it did, and there's nothing left to do but barrel through it.

In the distance, there's an explosion that shakes the ground, and a moment later a massive bird takes to the air. Kiba risks a glance, and can just see Deidara flailing and cursing on its back, Sasori beside him. There's no redheaded figure with them, thankfully—Tsunade must have gotten his warning in time.

"Time to go!" Tobi says brightly, whirling out of nowhere right between Neji and Kiba. "Deidara said—whoops!"

Kiba dodges as Neji stumbles right through Tobi's suddenly intangible form, and helpfully knocks the Hyuuga off his feet and dumps him in the dirt with a laugh.

"Come on, Konoha, keep up," he taunts, and triggers a shunshin—not something he was ever good at as a genin, but a necessity when his partner can teleport and is an ass about leaving him behind. He gets half a glimpse of Hinata reaching for him, of Shino's bugs pouring out of his sleeves, of Akamaru snarling and Neji staring wide-eyed, and then he's touching down in a flurry of leaves, right outside the cave where they were supposed to bring Gaara. He still can't see any trace of the Kazekage, though, and from the way Deidara is spitting mad as his creation comes in for a landing, they didn't have much luck.

"Where's the jinchuuriki?" Tobi asks brightly, swirling out of the air to bounce next to Kiba. "Did you get him? Did you get him?"

(Sometimes Kiba is absolutely certain that whoever's leading the Akatsuki put him and Tobi together just to try Deidara's patience at every possible opportunity. Not that he minds; that shit is hilarious.)

Deidara snarls like a cat dropped into a bathtub and grabs for his bombs. "Eat shit you fucker!"

With the ease of practice, Kiba sidesteps Deidara's lunge and Tobi's flailing dodge, then looks at Sasori, who's out of his puppet skin and none too happy about it. "No luck?" he asks.

Sasori glances at him, looking less than pleased. "The Kyuubi and Hachibi jinchuuriki were both present, as well as reinforcements from Konoha and Iwa. We were unprepared."

Burying his relief is second nature at this point, and Kiba locks his arms behind his head with a scowl. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Leader-sama's going to be pissed."

With a grimace of agreement, Sasori turns and stalks into the cave. Kiba waits until Deidara has chased Tobi in as well, then turns to look back over the hills towards Suna. He hopes, in the back of his mind where he allows himself such things, that everyone survived intact and unharmed, even if that's a ludicrously optimistic thought. But…

Gaara got away. Naruto and Killer Bee saved him, the same way Killer Bee and Yugito Nii saved Fū a few months ago, and Han was able to save Rōshi from Kisame and Itachi. Kiba can only do so much without the rest of Akatsuki catching on, and it's very likely that no one will ever know, but it's still something. He can still help, even if it's only stretching things out until the nations realize the threat and band together.

He's doing it, he's helping, and he's still moving forward. It's not a lot, but most days, it's enough.

He turns and heads inside, calling up the flicker-flare of anger that's become so familiar, the smirk that's started to sit naturally on his face. No time or space to think about Hinata's hurt, or Shino's anger, or the way Neji stared at him with such contempt.

No room to think of the betrayal written in every line of Akamaru's body and aimed at Kiba alone.

Someone has to, Kiba thinks, mantra and justification and all of his determination wrapped up in three little words. He doesn't touch the scarred hitai-ate, the poisoned knives, doesn't brush a hand over the cloud-covered cloak as he steps into the darkness. The ring on his hand is heavier than it should be, but he's used to the weight of it by now, and he rubs his thumb against the band as he steps into the light. Pein's image is waiting, coldly expectant, and Kiba grins, crossing his arms over his chest as he falls into familiar lines, arrogant in the face of his own success and derisive of the other team's failure, chagrined when Pein berates them but uncaring when Deidara snarls at him.

Someone has to, he thinks, the habit of four years that feel like four centuries.

It's still just as true as it was the day he left.