A/N: This turned out too serious. I tried really hard to make it fluffy but it just won't work with me. Sorry, love. It's rather short too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Dedication: SARAA!!!! Because even if she does not like her birthday she totally deserves something to cheer her up (although the fluffy fic I had in mind would have done that better but I liked this idea too much, sorry again lovie!).

P.S.: I love you Saraa and thought you'd like some KibaIno for your birthday. Hopefully I'll be right and you'll like this, but there's a large chance I am going to be wrong. (Because I fail like that and this is way to fucking serious. Gah.)

P.S.S.: I ended up taking some of my feelings about my own birthday coming up and kinda blowing them out of proportion. So, uh, yeah….

P.S.S.S.: Saraa, if you hate this tell me, yeah! I'll write you something cute and fluffly for sure :D PROMISE! Just say the word and I'll write something so much less serious for your birthday, since serious writing is probably the last thing you want right now D:

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Ino gunned the car, begging it under her breath to go faster, faster goddammit. It was too oppressing back there, there was too much she had to get away from. The highway was empty, which was slightly unusual but that didn't matter right now, the fact that the radio was now blasting out music the killed her ears (when did the station change to blue-grass music, she didn't know) wasn't important, and the fact that the occasional tear was ruining her flawless make-up didn't matter at all.

As long as she got far, far, far away from that fancy restaurant she'd be fine. She'd be able to breathe, to forget, the pressure would be gone (or so she hoped, prayed, pleaded; it had to disappear, it had to).

Wind ripped past her hair, destroying the careful up-do her mother had so pain-staking worked on, but she hardly even noticed. The road became blurry every now and again when tears would form, but she pushed them back; she wanted to leave, not crash and die. She needed to see, and that was the sole reason her tears receded, although they tried to come back multiple times. Her pretty, sky blue dress was slightly wrinkled and only getting worse, but she didn't slow down or even glance at it, her eyes never left the road; her dress (which was probably the single most beautiful blue sun-dress Ino had ever seen) didn't matter.

Ino didn't know how long she drove; her heart was pounding too fast and too hard in her chest, her eyes too glued to the road to look at the clock. She didn't know the time she left anyway, so looking at the numbered screen wouldn't do any good. Her breaths came in pants, sharp and deep, as her fists tightened continually around the steering wheel. It was all too scary, too horrid, too…

And then the car was losing it's speed, smoke was coming out from under the hood of her little blue convertible and it continued slowing, down and down until it came to a complete stop on the side of the highway.

"No, no, nonononono, please don't do this to me, baby! Please!" Ino nearly sobbed, slamming her hands on the steering wheel before leaning back in her seat. "You've never had any problems before, why start now… Why?" Her voice trailed off as she thought about her position. Her phone was dead, and even if it wasn't who would she call? She had just left them all behind, why would she willingly call them and let them take her back. She wouldn't, she couldn't; it would break her completely.

Ino knew about cars, the makes and the kinds, but it wasn't enough to tell what was wrong, or even begin to hope to fix it. So she was stuck, on this deserted highway, mentally begging someone with proper car knowledge would come by and help her.

But until then there was nothing to do but sit there, sit there and finally cry (because if she didn't now she was going to explode, she was sure of it). The bleach-blonde girl with bright, happy baby blue eyes wrapped her bare arms around her self and sobbed, not caring, for once, that the make-up that had taken hours to apply was ruined or the fact that if she kept this up her face would become blotchy and unattractive. All she wanted to do was cry, and then disappear. To have all the responsibilities that were being forced on her slim shoulders to go fuck themselves and leave her alone.

"I don't want to be an adult; I don't want it to be my fucking birthday. Make it stop, make it stop," She chanted this as she cried, remembering clearly what had made her run from her own party like she had. She remembered the looks, the pressure, the voices all saying the same thing, "You're an adult now, it's time to stop playing around and grow up!" Grow up, grow up, grow up! She didn't want to, it wasn't fair.

The voice, the face, she could remember the most, however, was her aunt's. The woman was tall, with long blonde hair that was her family's trait and slightly pinched blue eyes. Her nose was sharp and the angle at which she held her head always made her seem like she had smelled something fowl. Her nasally, high-pitched voice still rung in her ears, and the pressure seemed to return again to her shoulders.

"You need to stop drooling over boys and do something with your life, Ino. You're nothing very special, the only thing you really having going for you is your looks. But what you need in the world is a brain, and it's about time you got one! No more games or stupid little shopping sprees; you're not a child anymore. You're eighteen; so it's about time you grew up and stopped whining like a child!"

It echoed, over and over, the looks on her other relatives' and friends' faces playing through her mind. Sakura's happy, giggling face; her uncle's slightly icy glare, his whole being radiating with disappointment; Tenten's face flushed with alcohol. Ino's older cousin's face was so somber and serious, only a couple of years ago it was bright and happy, why not now?! Temari's face was set in an amused smirk; her father's proud smile, but followed quickly by a sad sigh; Hinata's shy smile. They bounced around, fighting in her head and only made the poor, confused girl sob all the harder.

"Uh, hey there, you okay, beautiful?"

Ino jumped, hugging herself all the tighter and shrinking back a little into the leathery seat. In front of her stood a boy probably her age or older in torn up jeans and a white ribbed tank top. His hair was unruly brown and short, dark brown eyes, and one red triangle tattoo on each cheek. His head was tilted to the side and he was bent over, probably trying to see her face when she had been crying, so Ino could see his expression clear as day. He was worried, which was really cute since he didn't even know her.

Her voice was as shaky as the hand she lifted to wipe away her tears. "No… The car suddenly stopped and nothing is going right anymore…"

He looked to the front of the car, where she had popped the hood to let the car cool down. Looking back and forth between the car and her he raised an eyebrow. "I can see why that'd be a problem, but it doesn't seem like something to have a breakdown about, now does it, beautiful?" He continued when he noticed she wasn't going to respond. "Mind if I check it out?"

"You can fix it?"

"Don't know, but I can try. I happen to know a thing or two about fixing things up." He grinned at her, leaning back some and waiting for her okay.

Ino bit her lip softly before nodding her head and the guy walked back to his old red Mustang and pulled out a tool box from the back seat. He quickly got to work, muttering to himself occasionally as he poked around the still-hot machinery.

"Damn. Looks like your battery's dead along with your car's cooling fans. It over-heated just as the battery died, practically killing your car in one hit. It's not that hard to fix though, you just need some new fans and a battery; nothing all that bad. Your car just buckled under the pressure." He continued to diagnose the car's health, sometimes looking around the hood to meet her eyes, but Ino's mind was no longer on her car, but something he said. Your car just buckled under the pressure. The car wasn't the only thing that buckled under the pressure, she had too. But something told Ino that it'd take a lot more than a battery and some fans to fix her up.

"…What's your name, anyway? I'm kind of curious if your name is as beautiful as your face." Ino felt her face heating up, looking away into the woods to hide it form his still-grinning face. There was no way she could look beautiful right now, her hair was a mess as was her make-up, not to mention her face was still red from crying. Why in the world was this hot, car-smart, older guy calling her beautiful? Besides, her name meant boar, and there was nothing beautiful about that.

"Ino. What's yours, hot shot?" He stepped out from around the car, closing the hood as he did.

"Kiba at your personal service, and if you don't mind, I think I'll keep calling you 'beautiful'. Fits you perfectly; kind of like that dress does."

Ino didn't look at him, just twisted her hands in her dress, ignoring the way the ribbons and flowers on there crinkled under her softly shaking fingers.

"Hey, you seriously okay?" Kiba was kneeing now, leaning against the car door to look her in the eye. "You've been shaking ever since I walked up; I didn't scare you that bad did I?"

Ino shook her head, looking quickly back the way she had come, almost like she was expecting someone to come barreling down the street and drag her back. She closed her eyes softly, tiredly wondering what she was going to do now.

"Beautiful, I don't know what you're running from or why, but if you need a lift somewhere I'll give you one. Hell, you can even stay with me until we get someone to fix your car, if you'd like. Just, please, stop looking so sad; I feel like I've kicked the world's cutest puppy or something."

"Really, I can come with you?! You don't even know me, why are you helping me?" She quickly unbuckled herself as Kiba stood up and opened her door.

"I'm a sucker for a sad, pretty face. 'Sides, I told you I'm good a fixing things, maybe I can help," He reached up and ruffled his already crazy hair, looking slightly embarrassed. He stepped back and called someone as she gathered up her purse and it's scattered contents; the harsh run she had made to her car earlier had caused her purse to fall and scatter everything all over the back seats.

Ino could hear him telling someone about the car and where it was, before he thanked them and hung up. She snatched everything and shoved it all in her bag, completely ignoring the pain it would be to organize everything in there afterwards.

"That was my friend, I asked him to come and pick up the car. I live in Suna, another hour that way, but if you want me to take you back to wherever just say the word. Okay?" Ino squealed and threw her arms around the boy, enjoying his musky, almost earthy smell.

"Thank you, hot shot! You don't know what kind of hell you just saved me from facing, even if it's just for a few days. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!"

"No problem, babe… Just… Hang out until you get your bearings and work from there. I'm not going to force you back somewhere you don't want to go until you're ready. I don't think I could live with myself if I mad you cry like that again." Slowly, almost feather-light, his arms wrapped themselves around her body. He squeezed her body to him in a quick hug before letting go and spinning around to climb stiffly in the car, his face noticeably red. Ino giggled and followed behind him, sliding into the passenger seat in her overly pretty, rather wrinkled, blue sun-dress and wiped off make-up. The smile on her face was large and contagious; her giggles making her feel better by the second, even as she brushed her tangled-as-hell hair back with her hand.

She may not have known much about this boy who came and helped her out, but she knew enough. Like how his scent was earthy and warming, how he knew a hell of a lot about cars and how they work, and that he had a weakness for a pretty face. Past that she really didn't know much, like why she was trusting him with her car, with her life. But she did know for sure he was good at fixing things, and like her car she had buckled under the pressure.

And just because he couldn't fix her car didn't mean he couldn't fix her. Really, she didn't a battery or stupid little fans to make her feel better, Kiba did the job with just his grin.