Hope you enjoy the new chapter. I tried to write this one as quickly as I could. I know its been forever since I updated, like six months or something so I'm trying to type out a few chapters real quick for your guys. :D Thank you for the supportive reviews, they mean a whole lot!

Oh, I don't own anything.

Chapter 9: Devastation

Kiba didn't remember the trip back to Itachi's house, he only knew he'd just managed to get back before the night Anbu left. He didn't remember dismissing the guard. He didn't remember slumping down on the back porch or slipping off his Anbu mask. He didn't remember anything after Kenji had begun the ceremony. All he knew was the numb pain radiating from his heart as he stared down at the blank Anbu mask, the Inuzuka marked completely erased, not even a hint of them left anymore.

Tears slipped unnoticed down his cheeks as he stared, watching his numb fingers stroke over the mask like it was another person's hand, not his own. He could feel the cool ceramic of the mask and concentrated on that, not wanted to think of the dull pain throbbing in his cheeks and down his chest. His mocha brown eyes were completely empty as he watched, tracking the motion of those fingers that couldn't possibly be his yet he could feel the betraying coolness beneath those fingers.

His breath hitched once but he focused with grim single minded desperation on his mask. He traced the fierce red lines surrounding the eyes, slanted more like a cat's than a dogs but portraying unmistakable feral intent anyway. Those fingers that couldn't be his trembled slightly as they moved on to the next red line. Jagged thin red lines spread from where the brows should be, the set angry and strong. The fingers moved down farther, still trembling under his lost eyes. They traced the snarling mouth, spread wide and almost seeming to grin, even with a mouth full of sharply bared teeth. There were twelve sharp dangerous teeth, painted in red, like the animal had already found it's next meal, a bloody meal. Along the rounded sides of the mask more jagged red lines spiked away from the snarling face, imitated raised spikes of fur. Those fingers, tanned like his but definitely not his, passed over the nose, pulled up into an intimidating snarl as well.

It took several lost minutes before those fingers settled over the blank spaces on either cheek and then Kiba knew those fingers were his. They were his, trembling and lost, as they traced over that mask. They were his tanned fingers, just as completely as Kiba knew he would be for the rest of his worthless lost life. As the realization came to him he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head in denial. No!

Still shaking violently his fingers reached into the pocket of his pants, eyes opening to focus on the mask sitting in his lap. This was his mask, with his failings leaving a blank void in the middle of it. Now it was his responsibility to fill in those blanks so that everyone could see his failings right there in front of them. One would only have to look to see that Kiba was lost, lost from clan and family. Lost in a void the rest of his life.

He nearly dropped the black tube he pulled from his pocket, he was shaking so badly. The small tube of black paint gleamed almost ominously in the morning sun and Kiba's cheeks throbbed painfully. Reaching down again he pulled a small paint brush out to join the paint, staring down at them sitting innocently in his hand. It was hard for him to believe that something so small, so insignificant could change his life so much for everyone who saw him to see.

Leaning his head back against the side of the house Kiba tried to concentrate. He had to be steady for this, he had to be. If it was crooked everyone would know. They would know Kiba had been shaking. They would know that he had been affected by something so trivial as a tube of fucking paint. He couldn't let that happen, he was seen as damaged already, he couldn't let others think he was even more damaged. He just couldn't think about it, that was all.

So with his mind still absolutely numb, Kiba squeezed some of the black paint Kenji had given to him onto the brush and with perfectly steady hands painted two black fangs onto his mask, first on one cheek and then the other. Filling in the blanks with his failure to his clan. When he was done Kiba absently set the paint and the brush to the side, staring down at the wrong mask.

Before it had been missing something but now it looked tainted, scarred, just like Kiba. The mask was somehow more menacing, with the dark stains streaked down each cheek. It was so wrong now. It no longer looked like it was grinning but rather smirking up at him, the black eye holes glaring reproachfully. There was nothing right with the mask anymore. It was tainted and had lost all its appeal. He remembered being delighted with it when he'd first received the painted thing, but now he could only stare down at it in something like numb horror and it stared right back at him.

Kiba's cheeks throbbed vaguely.

/oooooooooooooooooooooooo/

Itachi had known as soon as Kiba left but refrained from following him by sheer force of will. He could not protect Kiba if Kiba did not let him. So he'd let the boy leave in his secrecy, feeling a vague sense of betrayal as Kiba left. If Kiba did not trust Itachi than Itachi would not trust Kiba.

Yet as soon as Itachi stepped from the house the next morning and saw the boy he felt his heart break as his red eyes locked on Kiba. The sight was enough to make Itachi's heart clench so painfully he pressed a hand to his chest to relieve the pressure and he felt his eyes burn. Never in his life could Itachi remember crying but in this instance the urge struck him so fiercely that he actually had to blink the tears away.

Kiba was the very picture of heart break as he slumped against the side of the house, head lowered and shoulders rounded. Tears dripped unobstructed down the boys face, dripping down his cheeks to land onto his bare chest. Each drop made Itachi's chest clench tighter and tighter. He was staring down at his Anbu mask with pained eyes, as though the mask would leap forward and attack him. His breathing was rough and gasping, his chakra despairing and tight.

But it wasn't any of those things that Itachi paid attention to as he moved to kneel beside his Kiba. His red eyes, recording every moment of the painful scene, were locked onto what used to be Kiba's fiercely red Inuzuka markings. Now, in there place were ominous black fangs, the black completely covering what once had been red. Both cheek markings had been filled in completely black, even his chest markings were now pitch black.

The sight was painful because Itachi knew exactly what this meant. Whereas Kiba had been tentatively banished from the clan before, now it was absolutely irrevocable. There was no way to change this, no way anyone could ever change this. The black was permanent, signaling to all that saw them that Kiba was no longer Inuzuka, was instead reviled by the very clan he was born into. Kiba would never be accepted by the clan ever again, no matter what his mother had to say about the matter. It would never be the same for Kiba again, and Itachi understood why Kiba had wanted to do this on his own. Itachi would never have done anything else himself.

"Kiba." Itachi murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke gently over the boy's arm. He had to be extremely careful, Inuzuka's were known for being very volatile in situations like this.

Kiba's painfully blank eyes slowly blinked before he lifted his eyes slowly to Itachi's face. The expression on his face was heartrending, a mix of numb despair and self loathing. It took him a long moment before Kiba seemed to remember him. "It-Itachi?" His voice broke frailly.

Itachi nodded, locking eyes with the seemingly fragile boy. "It's okay, Kiba, you're going to be okay." He whispered to the boy, touching a hand gently to the boy's cheek, careful not to touch the doubtlessly painful tattoo. He leaned close to press his forehead affectionately against Kiba's, keeping his eyes perfectly sincere. "I have you now, Kiba, you're going to be okay."

The affection seemed to break the dam within the younger shinobi as his breath hitched on a sob, mocha brown eyes squeezing shut. Itachi gathered the trembling boy close as Kiba fell against his chest, the sound of Kiba's soul rending sobs making him grit his teeth as he fought his anger. Kiba shouldn't ever have to be in this much pain, Itachi wanted to protect him so badly but he knew this was something Kiba had needed to do. Tsume had been a festering wound inside of Kiba and as painful as this was Itachi knew it had needed to be done. It wasn't long before Akamaru came from the house and seeing Kiba, wrapped his big frame around the two shinobi.

Kiba cried for a long time before he fell asleep against Itachi's chest, body still trembling in Itachi's arms. Itachi sighed, relieved that Kiba was finally at peace in sleep, and held him for another long moment before he eased the limp boy away from him. With tender hands he settled Kiba against Akamaru's side, his expression just as blank as always but his eyes soft as they passed over Kiba's young face. He sighed quietly as he stroked one finger down Kiba's nose before he rose to his feet. He knew Kiba needed something peaceful right now and Itachi planned on giving it to him. With that in mind Itachi went into the house to collect what he would need.