Disclaimer: This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied.
Author's Introduction: I've written several short pieces about young Inuyasha, and have started to start this serial. This will be a collection of short pieces, written mostly for LiveJournal prompts, with no particular chronological order. To avoid breaking links, I am not moving previous stories done on this theme. They can be found in the general collection "Little Bits", chapters 1, 2, 4, and 36.
Thief
Inuyasha sniggered silently as he listened and watched the villagers fruitlessly try to find a trail. So stupid! Three nights, he'd raided their stores, and they hadn't a clue on how to find his trail. Blind-nosed amateurs.
Guilt twinged, but he slapped it down with a spurt of anger. They deserved it! He'd tried to be good: he'd been attempting to use the jewelry he'd found in a nest to trade for food, but just like every other village, they'd called him 'thief,' had tried to capture him, and he'd had to run. And this village was wealthy! And big. And their granaries were huge. They wouldn't miss the little bit he'd taken—a few bags of rice, a small barrel of smoked fish, a couple of pots. And this little crock of pickled daikon he'd noticed on the way out with the last bag of rice.
His mouth watered. Temptation won. He'd have just a piece, before he left. Just one. To celebrate.
He opened the lid.
Light flashed, and he yelled.
... ... ...
He hurt all over, and could smell nothing but vinegar. He opened his eyes, and saw black strands of his hair. Sitting up, he stared at his shaking, clawless hands, trying not to whimper in fear. Human!
"You—you're just a boy."
He cringed away from the priest squatting before him. Between them was the shattered crock. "I thought we had a youkai thief: I put a trap-spell on the crock. It shouldn't have gone off, unless..." Eyes narrowed, then widened. "Hanyo?"
He whimpered. "Please don't kill me!"
Frowning, the priest studied him for a long moment, then sighed, looking away. "I shouldn't, but—tell me where the goods are, and I'll let you go. This time."
He described the cave, then fled, limping.
Lesson learned: never steal from the same place twice.
Author's Note: The shorter version of this was published for the LiveJournal community, Inyasha FanFiction Contest (iyfic_contest) on September 6, 2010, for the prompt 'Amateur.' The title has been changed from "The Amateur Thief." Inuyasha is around ten, in human terms.