The White Dog
by Becky Tailweaver
Chapter 12: Reading Material
I am so bad, Ginnezu thought gleefully as she jogged briskly through the grassy valley. Just a little bit of help down the road to hatred is all they need! I barely have to work at all--that book was a blessing for me! He'll be so pissed--what a perfect wedge between them!
"Hee hee!" she tittered out loud, pleased with herself. "Just a little while longer--and a few more tricks--and he'll be begging to come with me!"
"Ginnezu!"
For one frantic moment, Ginnezu thought that the angry male voice addressing her was Inuyasha, and he had somehow discovered the truth of her rifling around in Kagome's belongings.
But when she raised her gaze to the south, she spotted Shirokiba and the stupid human monk coming towards her at a run over the fields. Hurriedly, she pulled off her Amplifier Amulet and Stealth Jewel and hid them in her tunic.
Shirokiba skidded to a stop a few feet away from her, looking positively thunderous. The human monk leaned over, hands on knees, and gasped for air. He obviously was not in the same kind of shape as his youkai companion.
"What do you want now, Hunter Shirokiba?" Ginnezu asked boredly.
"Where have you been?" Shirokiba demanded curtly, his voice just bordering on the disrespectful. "Lady Ginnezu, Inuyasha commanded me to watch you."
"I do as I please, and go where I wish--and what that entails is my business."
"You knew you weren't to leave--"
"Do you think that matters a whit to me?" she sneered. "You menial--your mother was merely a Gray, and your father a no-account Wolf. You cannot command me."
"Did you bother Inuyasha and Kagome?" the wolf-dog asked, his voice half-growling.
"Not a bit," Ginnezu replied airily. "In fact, I never even spoke to them. I haven't gone near them at all. They're quite good at hiding. I've been up and down this valley and I can't find any trace of them."
Shirokiba regarded her suspiciously, while the monk recovered his breath and stood straight. "Inuyasha told us not to let you leave the village," Miroku said. He had no qualms about how he addressed the youkai woman, unlike Shirokiba, who for some reason still accorded her the respect due a proper Lady--for the most part.
"And just how were you going to stop me, ningen?" Ginnezu demanded, with a lift of one lip.
Miroku reflexively gripped the rosary that sealed his dangerous hand. "I would stop you in a rather terminal fashion," he replied succinctly, not batting an eye. "I sincerely doubt you would enjoy it."
Ginnezu spread her fingers, giving them both a good look at ten lethal claws. "Don't get in my way," she growled. "I don't need your watchcare, Wolf-cub--and I will not be commanded by mere humans! If you want to try and stop me...well, let's get this over with. I have places to be."
Shirokiba snarled, baring fangs longer and sharper than a Dog's--but when he spoke, it was forcefully and formally. He hated to play this card, but... "Do not force my hand, Lady! Inuyasha-sama gave orders that you were to remain in the village until he returned! Are you going to risk his wrath? Especially when he is already displeased with you?"
Some of the fire went out of Ginnezu's amber glare. Still snarling, she swiped her claws lazily at them, forcing both to jump out of her path or be injured. With a haughty snort, she strode past them, going south. "I was leaving anyway," she huffed, sounding vaguely like a petulant child, and without waiting for either of them picked up her jog and headed back for the boring old village.
She was most angered that she wouldn't be able to witness the fruits of her labors firsthand. She really wanted to see what happened when Inuyasha discovered the book she'd left "hidden" in plain sight.
Oh, well...it'll be nice to greet him when he comes back. He'll be very happy to see me--and we'll go home to the High Stone together. It will be perfect--and he'll be all mine. I can always come back later and slay all these annoying human vermin...
"Well, that was relatively simple," Miroku commented as he and Shirokiba followed her, keeping a distance. "I assumed we would have a ferocious youkai battle on our hands."
"That's the problem," Shirokiba responded, his voice edged with a growl. "That was too easy. I don't trust a word she says. K'so...she's up to something."
The warmth of dawn's sunlit breeze woke Inuyasha by ruffling his bangs, which tickled his forehead. The feathery sensation brought him out of his restful sleep, as did the freshly-risen sunbeam that danced happily into his eye the moment he fluttered it open.
"K'so taiyoukou," he growled, turning his head so he could avoid monocular blindness. Way to go, genius, he berated himself softly. Just had to pick the one tree that gets the first sun on this side of the ridge.
He rose to all fours and performed a proper stretch, working the kinks out of his spine and yawning cavernously, his tongue curling above his teeth like a pink wave. After a good shake, he felt reasonably ready to face the morning--especially considering that there were no impudent wolf-dogs to mock him and no bouncy-happy Silver inu-youkai to accost him. At least he was free of those yarou out here.
With a sigh, he scratched one ear and scanned the campsite and surrounding area. By the way the sun shone even this early, today was likely to be a scorcher; though yesterday morning had been overcast, the clouds were gone by afternoon and today was the result of the sun's hard work. It was going to be warm all right.
He landed soundlessly on the ground beside Kagome's sleeping bag and considered rolling her out--but reconsidered that idea once he got a look at her. Just like when he'd stayed in her house...she was pretty when she was asleep, all innocent and carefree, her hair fanned out and one hand resting close to her chin...
Inuyasha smacked himself in the forehead and turned away. I don't need this mushy sentimental crap! It was bad enough the first time--now I'm going to curl up on her bed like Shippo and snore away the morning again!
"Baka," he whispered to himself.
Well, maybe I'll see about breakfast--yeah, that's it. It would get his mind off that nice cozy sleeping bag and how much he'd like to go back to snoozing. Damn that sun. I'm always the first to wake, no matter what.
Hot ramen for breakfast? Sounds good, but... For some reason, today he wanted something more than the usual. Instead of her feeding him meals the whole trip...he felt like providing for Kagome this time. Besides, it would be fun; he hadn't gone hunting in a while.
To prepare for his return, he began to light the campfire again, using the matches Kagome had left sitting on one of the stone "seats" near the fire. They were one of the few modern inventions he truly appreciated--besides instant ramen and camp stoves. Matches were wonderful things--just one flick of the wrist and poof! Instant fire. He was quite proud of himself when the wood and tinder took quickly to the flame.
He gave the campsite a careful inspection and cast about for any potential danger. Once he was satisfied, he trotted off into the woods, casually silent and moving without a trace.
It didn't take him long to find a flock of golden pheasants just waking from their roosts in an old gnarled tree. They flushed, but he was too quick; one leap, and one hand snatched out to snap the neck of a fat old male bird.
He could have easily taken four or more by the time all the pheasants made flight, but he really needed only one back at camp. He already knew Kagome disapproved of killing for needless gluttony, and four pheasants were certainly too much for breakfast.
Killing the bird brought back old memories of the first hunting kill he'd ever made--another pheasant, a long, long time ago. When he'd been almost five, out playing in the woods, he'd been startled by a pheasant with a twisted wing as it tried to fly out of the grass at his feet.
It had been instinct, really, to pounce on it and break its neck; its sudden frantic fluttering triggered his abrupt reaction, and he'd done it before he even realized he'd moved.
For a while, he'd been surprised at himself, even a bit upset, and sat staring at the suddenly-dead bird for some time--contemplating what had happened and what he'd done. He'd been so young, then--only just able to grasp the concept of death, and the fact that he had taken its life.
Then he'd carefully carried the golden cockerel all the way back home to show his mother, hesitant, unsure of her reaction--yet somehow proud of his kill, wanting to show her his prey.
She had not responded as badly as other humans had in his memory; she congratulated him and told him what a good boy he was--that she would cook this fine pheasant extra special and they would have it together for dinner.
He'd also been told, in firm mother-fashion, that he should never kill harmless forest animals for sport or amusement, but only to satisfy his hunger and provide a meal. His mother had understood his instincts and nature--probably thanks to his father--in a way no other humans ever did, back then. The other villagers were always shocked and disgusted when the little hanyou boy brought in some small dead animal, blood smearing his face and hands...
Well. He was certainly much less clumsy--and much neater--with his kills now.
Once back at the campsite, headless pheasant in hand, Inuyasha checked around once again to make sure nothing was amiss. He ascertained that nothing had gone awry in his absence; the fire was burning cheerfully and Shippo was just beginning to stir. With a nod of approval, he picked up the canteen and went a ways downhill to butcher the pheasant.
His sharp, precise claws made it unnecessary for him to pluck it; he could very easily remove the thin skin feathers and all with little effort. As he set it aside he was reminded of the golden pheasant-feather cape he had helped his mother make. His tiny child-claws had painstakingly presented his mother with thin skin after thin skin, all so perfectly cut from the birds--and they'd dined well on pheasant that summer.
Inuyasha's mouth turned down as a sour memory made itself known; the carefully-stitched cape of golden feathers and soft goatskin that his mother was to wear that winter was long gone now, lost with the rest of his mother's posessions in the fire that had destroyed their hut on the day she died.
He shook his head with a low grumble, pushing painful recollections away.
When the gamebird was properly bled and the innards removed, he washed it carefully with water from the canteen. When it was clean, he sectioned it and brought it back to the fire. There was no way Kagome would eat raw pheasant, even if he had no qualms about it. But it was simple enough to rig a roasting spit out of sticks. There were no herbs or sauce, but simple fire-cooked meat was good enough. He sat down near the fire, opposite Kagome, to wait for the pheasant to cook.
Indeterminate time passed as he sat staring at the sleeping girl through the flames of the campfire. It felt...really good, strangely, to have done his own hunting and brought food to her. He felt...strong; in this rustic setting, cooking his fresh kill for his--for Kagome.
If nothing else, it would help bolster the apology he'd made last night. He had never been good with words, so perhaps this more demonstrative gesture would work to avert her anger at him. After all, what was more demonstrative to a girl than breakfast in bed?
When he heard her sigh, he watched carefully as she gradually progressed into stages of wakefulness. The scent of roasting poultry undoubtedly reached into her dreams to draw her out, and the crackle of the fire and the sizzle of the meat would pull her free of sleep.
Having her come closer to awakening made him remember that she might want more than just pheasant for breakfast. Heading for her pack, he intended to dig out some of those tea beverages she always carried with her, and perhaps some of that metal-canned fruit or a package of crackers.
As he approached the backpack, his eyes caught the cover of a book just peeking out from the open flap. It grabbed his attention directly when he crouched down to go through the pack--especially since the cover read, "Your Dog."
What the hell--?
Feeling an edge of frowning curiosity, he picked up the book and began to read, ignoring the image on the cover of a drooling, lop-eared hound with an idiotically happy expression on its face. The cooking pheasant temporarily forgotten, he sat down beside her pack to read the volume.
"The dog is a noble, hardy animal who has been man's best friend and ally throughout history. The first humans to domesticate friendly wolves used them to pull travois, guard camps, watch over their flocks, help with the hunts, and play with their children..."
"...fidelity, integrity, intelligence, character, loyalty, courage, determination, devotion, endurance, strength; all these and more sum up the positive traits of a good companion dog..."
"...may protect those he loves to the death if necessary, facing adversaries many times his size in defense of his master...a terrier named Spike faced down a charging grizzly bear for the sake of..."
"...should never be allowed to break certain rules, such as biting or leaping upon his trainer. Such invasions of personal space demonstrate a marked lack of respect; among dog hierarchies these are forcefully corrected during puppyhood..."
Inuyasha passed through alternating flashes of shock, understanding, anger, mortification, and amazement. He couldn't help but keep reading--some morbid curiosity drawing him in, wanting to know what Kagome saw in this book.
"...well-trained dog can perform a number of successful maneuvers, including basic obedience, hunting and fetching, and various entertaining tricks..."
"...training should be strict and to-the-point, yet fun; discipline should not be either overbearing or frivolous, or the dog will begin to resent any and all interaction..."
"...no dog should ever be left unattended with young children, whether he is trained or not..."
"...breeding at less than a year of age can be dangerous to the health of..."
"...sure to keep the male dog away from the puppies, as he can tend to be violently jealous of the attention the puppies receive from the female and his owners..."
"...even dangerous to others when he becomes posessive of a person or object; intact males may become aggressive or territorial about yards or kennels..."
"...treated lovingly and well, can become a devoted and affectionate lifelong companion, never leaving his master's side except in death..."
"Inuyasha...what are you doing in my pack?"
The book dropped with a thump, and the hanyou was on his feet a yard away from his previous location, startled and denying from long habit--Kagome usually did not react well when he went through her stuff.
But before he could say anything, she waved sleepily at him in dismissal. "Never mind, never mind; I guess you were just bored," she said with a yawn. "Mmm...what's that wonderful smell? Jeeze...it's late...why didn't you wake me?"
He blinked at her.
"Oh..." she yawned again, "never mind... What were you looking at?"
"Keh." Recovering gradually, Inuyasha frowned, glaring at the innocent book at his feet. Coming to a decision, he picked it up and thrust it at her. "Why do you have this?"
Oh my God, how did he find that book? Kagome's eyes widened as she blushed. "Oh, that! Well...I...it's Sota's, you see, and...I was just curious..."
"Is this a joke?" he demanded. "Is this your idea of funny? Do you think you can control me with some tricks from a dog-training scroll?"
Kagome sat up in her bedroll, embarrassed--as well as a little angry and defensive. She had only just awakened, so she was not quite on her verbal feet yet. "Look, you always make such a big deal out of what you are and how I'm a stupid human who can never know, and I thought if I read that I could understand--"
With a growl, Inuyasha threw the book to the ground again, an indignant expression on his face--one that contained a trace of hurt as well. His previous contentment was gone, all thoughts of a pleasant breakfast of roast gamebird fleeing from his mind as the tension of the previous evening returned full force.
"You understand nothing!" he snarled. "I'm proud to be a youkai! That's what I am, hanyou or not! The fact that my youkai half just happens to be inu-youkai does not mean I'm a dog! Just because I have these freaking fuzzy ears people think they can pass me off as some kind of animal--!"
He broke off, said ears flattened against his head in anger, his lips pulled back in a snarl. During this time, Shippo--who had awakened with the first raised voice--began to carefully remove himself from the battlefield.
Kagome drew back, a little frightened of his ire, but his accusations made her angry. How could he think she would stoop to something so degrading to make fun of him? "Now you wait just a minute--!"
"I have to put up with Shippo and Miroku and their stupid jokes and comments! And that damn kid Sota, too--he can't decide whether I'm a big brother or a new pet! It's fecking annoying! That old jijii of yours thinks I'm a monster, and your mother thinks I'm some kind of half-beast barbarian--patting me on the head and pulling my ears and condescending to me!"
"Well, you act like a barbarian sometimes!" Kagome retorted, defensive. "And my family doesn't--!"
Inuyasha growled, gripping the rosary around his neck, tugging at it though it did no good. "And you, with your little collar and magic leash--that word--is that the best you could come up with? 'Osuwari?' Is it funny to you? Every time you tell me to sit like a dog and I go crashing down do you laugh? 'Hee-hee, look at the funny dog-boy!' Sit! Stay! Good doggie!' Is that amusing for you?"
"No I don't think it's funny!" Kagome shot back, eyes flashing. "What on Earth did you expect me to do? You were trying to kill me and I was scared, so I said the first thing that came to mind--because you were coming at me like some rabid--!"
"You don't even understand how humiliating that is!" Inuyasha almost shouted, standing over her--flushed, embarrassed, but far too angry to stop his tirade. "Shit--all the time, in front of whole crowds of people with my face in the dirt! Treat me like a youkai or treat me like a ningen--I don't freaking care! Just stop treating me like an animal! You're a selfish little witch--using that power over me--!"
"Me? Selfish?" Kagome demanded, somewhere between tears and outrage. "I'm not the one--!"
"I'm not your goddamn sideshow and I'm nobody's fecking pet!" he snarled, not even letting her finish. "I won't let you or anybody make me into that! I'm the son of a taiyoukai and a noblewoman, dammit--and I am not a dog!"
Kagome couldn't speak. She didn't have a thing to say to him. He was stupid and stubborn and overbearing and selfish--but he was also absolutely right, and his last all-but-shouted statement betrayed the pain and fear behind his outrage. He may have been a rude, temperamental hothead and a hanyou to boot--but he was a person, just as he'd said. She knew that--had known that for a very long time--and she most certainly did not think of him as an animal or an amusement; he was so much more important to her than that, and part of her desperately wanted to get her throat working so she could say it to him...
But thanks to their shouting match, none of her nicer feelings could float high enough to reach from her heart to her mouth; she just glared at him, frightened and sad and upset and angry, furious that he'd think such things of her after they'd been companions this long. How could he believe her to be so shallow, so selfish?
She was too upset to see clearly, too angry any more to discuss it--incoherent with tears and temper. So she did the only thing she could do when she was too mad at him to talk.
"Osuwari!"
With a surprised yelp, the hanyou slammed to the ground right in front of her, narrowly missing getting one arm in the firepit. He was stuck there for a full thirty seconds, snarling and cursing and struggling in the pine duff. His claws scored gouges in the dirt, and his growls were so throaty and enraged that shivers ran up her spine--and for some reason, watching him writhe on the ground right in front of her made her feel suddenly sick to her stomach in a way she'd never felt before.
Sick, because she'd done it to him simply out of a fit of temper--and it became more actutely apparent than any of the times before.
Sick, because he was so mad and defenseless that way, unable to lift a finger to save himself--and she'd almost gotten him killed in the past using this very spell.
Sick, because her single angry word could do this to him--that she had the capacity to reduce such a beautiful, powerful creature to the snarling, helpless hanyou she saw before her in the dirt.
And this time, she realized the whole thing was all her fault.
Her insides wrenched, and she could no longer bear to look at him. With a shrill sobbing sound, she threw herself down on her sleeping bag and buried herself in it, covering her head and hiding away.
Everything was falling apart. The tenuous relationship--if one could call it that--which had sustained them thus far was unraveling in the face of his outrage. He was so angry, and she was afraid; it was as if they'd been set back to square one--he was the angry hanyou, and she the would-be miko who stood in his path to the Shikon no Tama and controlled him with a magic word. If he really hated her as much as it now seemed, he could kill her as easily as he breathed, the moment she turned her back to him.
Yet even so, she suddenly, impossibly, couldn't stand the thought of sitting him any more.
She hated her mixed-up feelings--fear and longing and fury and grief all tangled up in a knot that stopped her throat and burned her eyes; her emotions swirled about so powerfully she wasn't even sure if she loved or hated him--for being right, for being hanyou, for being so wonderful and so awful at the same time...
When the mystical entrapment finally ended, Inuyasha lifted himself from the dirt. When he turned in her direction his face was set in a grimacing snarl, fangs bared, yet not even a rumble emerged from his throat.
Luckily for her fragile emotions in that moment, she could not see him.
After a moment of glaring coldly at her huddled form, he turned quickly away as if to hide what he could no longer conceal on his own face. Leaving everything--including a certain kitsune who was cowering behind a clump of ferns some distance away--he strode quickly into the woods, not daring to look back.
Damn her! his mind snarled as he went, refusing to acknowledge anything but anger. Waste of a good pheasant!