Kiba arched a jet black eyebrow at his neighbor. "Right." He could only guess at what this "classic look" consisted of if belts and buttons weren't in the running. Who knows, if the guy kept on butchering words like he did, Kiba might even be galled into believing that maybe he hadn't ever set eyes on a button before. Might.

Hell, maybe the kid was just plain weird, and that's all there was to it. Well, whatever. There were weirdos lurking in every corner, and this guy had nothing on the freak that was Shino—not by a long shot. He needed a few more insects crawling out of eyes and a dumber face.

Kiba smirked, flashing a fanged half-grin. "Well, guess you can't help it if this look ain't your thing, but those morons will be up your ass if you can't get yourself looking all nice n' pretty,and you're looking like a wet cat from where I'm standing." Kiba jerked his head towards the belt the teen was holding. "That's called a belt, by the way. You wrap it around your waist—thread it through the loops on your pants. It ain't complicated."