This one has given me endless trouble, but after countless rewrites, I'm just going to move on and stop letting it hold up the series. Though Dog at Heart has no 'storyline' to speak of, this one is a follow-up to How to Handle Stress, and there'll probably be one more to this 'arc.'

Alternate title: The Dog Ate It.

Summary: He's a well-behaved dog at heart.


Sesshoumaru clicked his claws together, trying to remember the appropriate protocol. Kagome was always telling him about the right and wrong ways to go about things, particularly when meeting new people, particularly when the new people were human.

Which he usually ignored, since the right way never made very much sense. (Sesshoumaru, you can't just go breaking down people's doors! Sesshoumaru, put that man down! Put him down!).

But for her sake, he would give human diplomacy a try. Just this once.

Remembering that she'd told him it was always polite to knock, he did so. The taiyoukai was met with silence.

Hn.

He knocked again. Louder, so as to be extra polite.

"Office hours are over," a sour voice drawled through the door. "Come back tomorrow."

Sesshoumaru shrugged.

Well, he'd tried.


As the dust cleared, Sesshoumaru found himself wondering why Kagome was so intimidated by this man. He looked very flimsy. And very rude. The human was completely ignoring him.

"What just happened to my door?" the man wheezed, gaping.

And very unobservant.

"It's broken," Sesshoumaru informed him.

The professor blinked owlishly at him, and then mumbled, "There must be a gas leak." Heading for what Sesshoumaru knew to be called a phone, the man paused and said, "If you'll excuse me, this is an emergency."

"Indeed it is," Sesshoumaru said, pleased that the man understood. He strode over the wreckage, wood splintering beneath his boots. "And you are not excused."

The man seemed so surprised by this answer that he forgot all about both door and phone. "…What?"

"Your teaching. It is inexcusable. I have come to express my displeasure with it."

The human then scowled. "Hmph. It's not my fault if you're doing poorly," he said. "Learn to study."

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes.

"I am not your pupil. My grievance is on behalf of a Miss Higurashi."

The professor made a very disrespectful noise. Sesshoumaru wondered if there was a polite way to impale someone. He was sure there was.

"Ah, yes, Higurashi," the professor drawled, pushing his glasses up. "Such a lazy girl."

There were definitely polite ways to eat someone. He could use chopsticks. And a napkin. It would all be very diplomatic.

"Lazy," Sesshoumaru repeated.

"She's smart enough when she wants to be," he snorted. "Unfortunately, it seems nowadays she can't even be bothered to fight her own battles," he said with a wave at Sesshoumaru.

Proper etiquette was so much simpler in his era. He couldn't think of anything that wasn't in breach of Kagome's (extremely unreasonable) 'no killing' policy. How was he supposed to get anything done with a rule like that in place?

But then, maybe Sesshoumaru could kill him just a little bit, and un-kill him later? Sesshoumaru's claws made an idle click-click as he mulled it over. Maybe he should just improvise.

Sesshoumaru brightened at this. He liked improvising.

"So what did she send you to complain about?" the professor asked, drawing him out of his thoughts with a last click.

"Kagome is unaware of this visit. And you have made an error; I intend to see it corrected." Sesshoumaru withdrew a sheet of paper from one of his voluminous sleeves. "According to this…syllabus…should an assignment be tardy, the student shall receive a penalty of one…" He frowned minutely at the paper. "…Letter grade…per day."

"That's correct."

"And yet," Sesshoumaru continued, "Kagome's work was a single day late when you refused to accept it."

"That's right."

Click, click, went his claws.

"Explain."

"Because she came to me with the most pathetic story in the book, that's why! Would you believe the excuse she gave me? 'The dog ate my homework,'" he scoffed. "Hmph. It isn't even original."

"It makes no stipulations in your syllabus as to what an acceptable cause for lateness is," Sesshoumaru said with all the crisp aplomb of a master politician—which he was. Taking a step closer to the man, he added, "Therefore, her reason should not matter and her letters were wrongfully taken."

"I'm not going to reward such a blatant lie. Honestly, 'the dog ate it,'" he repeated with great sarcasm.

Another step closer.

Click-click.

"Nevertheless, you have broken your word. That," he said, looming over the human, "would make you the liar."

"How dare you!" the professor sputtered, face flushing with outrage. "Listen, you arrogant little punk—you people come in here with your tattoos and your technicolor hair and your snippy attitudes and think you can talk back to me like this? Just who do you think you are?!"

Sesshoumaru smiled a sadistic smile.

"I'm her dog."