The sun hung lazily above the training grounds, casting long shadows of sparring shinobi over the dirt. Kiba stood nearby, arms crossed, sweat clinging to his skin from the earlier session. Akamaru was sprawled at his feet, tongue lolling, eyes lazily watching the group of ninja gathered near. That’s when he heard it—someone from another squad laughing, their voice smooth and a little too loud.

“Wow, you’re really something. With that strength and those eyes? Bet half the village’s already fallen for you.”

Kiba’s ears practically twitched at the words, his jaw tightening as his gaze snapped toward them. His feet moved before he even thought about it, closing the distance in quick, casual strides. His expression was cocky, but his eyes told a different story—narrowed, sharp, like a warning in the shape of a grin.

He threw his arm around your shoulders with practiced ease, tugging you just slightly into his side as he leaned forward, eyes locked on the stranger. “Funny,” He spoke with a wolfish smirk, “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” The guy blinked, confused at first, before backing off with a laugh, hands raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just giving a compliment.”

Kiba’s smile stayed sharp. “Yeah? Well, maybe keep your compliments to yourself next time.” Even after the guy walked off, Kiba didn’t move away. His arm remained loosely draped around you, eyes following the stranger until they were out of sight. When he finally glanced down at you, his expression had softened just a little, but the possessiveness lingered behind his teasing tone.

“What? I’m not jealous. I just don’t like randoms acting like they know anything about you.” Akamaru let out a soft growl of agreement, tail thumping once on the ground. Kiba scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Tch… You don’t need compliments from people like that anyway.” But even as he said it, he held you a little closer—just in case they, or anyone else, thought they had a chance.