Thank you, Nataku19 and Kukkuku. Not only the review, Nataku, but for giving me a chance to practice my French by reading your profile. Merci!
I recently heard some pervy stuff about Hinata, and I'm spazzing out. Not because it was hot, but because it was so . . . pervy! Poor Hinata! Everyone knows its Hinata and Kiba, anyway, not Hinata and Naruto!
(x) means NOTE, which are below.
Title: Beautiful Beast
Chapter: Two
Genre: Fantasy/Romance
Characters: major: Hinata, Hana, Kurenai, Tsume. minor: Hiashi.
Relationships: none in this chapter
Notes:
1. The Inuzuka tribe is more like a wolf pack than a witch clan.
2. This isn't taken from the Disney movie, but from the story itself. "The next room was a library, and she saw everything she had ever wanted to read, as well as everything she had read, and it seemed to her that a whole lifetime would not be enough to even read the names of the books, there were so many."
I rise slowly from my bed, reluctant to leave the comfortable rest I had been taking several moments before. The knock is getting impatient, and I do not want to get these people angry. I pull the door open slowly, coming face to face with a woman, dressed in furs like the others, and looking several years my elder.
"Please come down for breakfast. I'm sorry to say that your father left at dawn, without warning and so we could not wake you to say your farewells." When she mentions my father, her face contorts into a scowl. Why is it these people dislike my father so much? They do not even know him! But I do not say anything, just nod, and I follow the woman out of the room and into the hallway.
She leads me down the same path my father and I were led the night before, and I assume we are heading back to the dining room.
Is this something they do to all their soon-to-be victims? Feed them extraneously until they feel that they can no longer move, and then knock them over the head? Perhaps they are cannibals and they enjoy the flavor of toasted human flesh. None of these thoughts make me feel much better, as must come as a surprise.
I try not to think about how my father left without so much as a goodbye. I am going to die and he could not do me the honor of saying farewell to his eldest daughter?
"You're Hiashi's daughter?" This is just one more thing I do not want, I do not need some person that does not even know me looking down at me, just because I am my father's daughter and they expect me to be some kind of powerful goddess. Everyone always gives me that irritating disappointed glance whenever they first lay eyes on me. It seems that they expect some gorgeous girl that practically emits power from her pores to greet them.
Even so, I do not believe this is a good reason for even dignifying his rude comment with a response. I usually do not believe in those sorts of things, in the idea that there is some honor I need to protect all the time. But this time, I am just tired of it all.
"Yes, and you, apparently, are . . . are . . . a stupid bastard you does not know anything!" I finish lamely. I am looking at him dead on, which is a thing I rarely do. He is sitting at the table, dressed like the others, in fur, and with red triangles painted on his cheeks. If I had been at my right mind, I would have been blushing like mad, I would have been stuttering, I would have looked away, for one, but no.
I am glaring directly at him, and I hope I cause him to burn up with my gaze.
"That was cute," he retorts, an annoying little smirk on his face. I want to wipe it off. Instead my anger flutters away and I am left blushing.
"Kiba, shut your trap," another female chides him, as she stands up from the table to greet me. "Hello, Hyuga Hinata. Welcome to the Inuzuka home. My name is Inuzuka Tsume, and I am the alpha female of the Inuzuka tribe (x). I suggest that you explore the territory today and make sure it is all to your satisfaction. We would not want our guest to feel discontented, do we?" The last comment is shot pointedly at the rude boy.
This particular woman looks especially majestic, in a way no woman I have ever seen has appeared to me before. Although she has a wild and willful appeal to her, as does everyone in this castle, she has an odd sort of wisdom in her eyes, and in her manner. The sort of knowledge you can only gain from instinct and living.
On the other hand, the boy just looks overly obstinate and rebellious. "Yeah, we sure don't," he murmurs under his breath.
I want to ask them what they are going to do with me, what my fate is going to be in this castle inhabited by beasts. But instead I allow the female who led me here to nudge me toward the table gently. I try to inch my way towards the seat farthest from the unpleasant boy, but this woman has other ideas.
I find myself sitting right next to him. I refuse to look at him as I respectfully place my hands on my lap. Now that she has no reason to nudge at me anymore, the woman sits down in her own place next to Tsume. Throughout this whole exchange, several people have entered the room, and are seating themselves around the table, always on the opposite side of Tsume. It makes me feel odd, sitting only two seats away from her.
Tsume, still standing, announces loudly to the rest of the table, "This is our guest, Hyuga Hinata." I hear several murmurs at this, and I blush, looking down at my hands. These hands clutch at my skirt, which I realize too late is the same one I arrived in. It is still rather damp from traveling in the snow, and my hands have only combed through my hair. I must look a complete mess.
"None shall harm her in this household, lest they wish to upset me personally." I glance up in surprise at this. Wait . . . does this mean . . . ? I want to ask Tsume exactly what she means by this, but I do not dare.
I never do.
Then, turning to me, she waves her hand towards the woman that had led me here this morning. "This is my eldest daughter, Hana, and this," she continues, motioning towards the rude boy to my right, "is my son, Kiba." I look up at the two them, smiling as politely as I can manage. Hana smiles back, and I take an immediate liking to her.
Kiba, on the other hand, flashes me an overly cocky smirk, which makes me want to throw my food at him. "Kiba will be showing you around today . . . won't he?"
Both our heads turn sharply to look at her. What? He is going to become some sort of tour guide for me? And I still do not know why they are not going to just sacrifice me to their barbarian gods like I had first assumed.
The food is soon served, and the rest of the table erupts with conversation, laughter and wild antics. They do not eat like we do, quiet and respectfully, but instead wild and loud. They joke around as they bite through their meat, they laugh as they drink their wine, and they burp as they stand up again. I find myself intrigued by this completely different way of life they seem to have.
Kiba gobbles up his food between jokes to his neighbors across the table, and is soon finished. Before he stands he mutters a short prayer to a god unknown to me, and a thanks to his mother. I take another small bite of my fruit before I find myself getting pulled up to my feet. I glance up at Kiba in confusion and surprise.
"I'm supposed to show you around, remember?" He growls, not sounding as dangerous as he is obviously trying to. "Let's get going!" The two of us set off running, with my feet slipping across the marble floor as I attempt to regain some semblance of balance.
"So, Hinata, what do you like to do?" We have gone through the garden, and he has halfheartedly showed me their vast amounts of plants that they grow there. I myself was not especially interested, but I was silent and stoic throughout his explanations so as to not make him feel useless.
It does not matter how much I would love to, I do not dare.
His teeth look awfully sharp . . .
"I . . . like to . . . "I really have to think about this one. At home I do not have time to think about what I like to do, with all the training I undergo to try to make myself stronger. Finally, I think of something. "I like to read."
He lets out a short bark of a laugh. "That seems just like you. I can really see you curled up in corner, invisible to the world and your cute nose in a book." He flicks my nose as he says this, and I can feel my cheeks flare with heat.
"What do you know?" I mutter under my breath.
He does not answer, so I do not know whether or not he even heard me. He walks, and I follow, and neither of us makes much conversation. I look at the walls, empty of pictures or any kind of decoration. Unless you count the myriad of claw marks that line them. After several minutes, he pushes open a great wooden door, and steps inside.
Even before I am inside the room, I recognize the scent of paper and ink. Even so, I do not expect what I find.
The walls are lined and lined and lined with thousands upon thousands of books. (x) I numbly step towards them, completely ignoring Kiba. I pick one out at random, Tithe, and it just feels right under my hands. When was the last time I had sat down to read a book? Not for months. Whenever I did, someone would come and tell me how much training there is to be done.
"You like it, then?" I spin around, clutching the book to my chest.
"Yes!" I whisper desperately. He gives me a wide grin, and I wonder if I misjudged him at the table. He seems nice enough . . .
"Bookworm," he says teasingly, and sits down on a chair in the center of the room. There are five seats, each a different color, and each looking especially dirty. I glance at them critically.
"Does anyone ever sit here?" I ask after a moment. I do not know if I really want to sit in these seats.
"What, you want me to wipe it with my tongue or something, princess?" He laughs meanly, and I look at him angrily. He is one to talk, the son of the alpha female of his tribe. I refuse to dignify him with response as I plop down on the chair next to him and I open the book.
"You're just going to sit here and read?" He asks incredulously, an eyebrow cocked in my direction.
I do not look up at him. "You can leave if you like. I . . . I will not force you to stay, or anything of the sort."
"Come o-o-on," he whines, and leans backwards over the armrest. "My mother will give me hell for sure if I leave you here so soon!"
"That is my problem in . . .what way?" I snap angrily, glancing up from my book. He is gazing at me, without much expression on his face at all. Just having him look at me causes me to blush again, and I quickly return my gaze to the printed letters.
"You look cute when you blush," he says thoughtfully, and jumps off the seat. "Come on, I'll either have to stay here with you, and I won't let you read in peace, or you can let me continue my horrible tour of the castle and finish the damn book a little later."
"Fine!" I growl, jumping up again, holding the book to my chest. "Lead on then! Just stop irritating m-me!" He shoots me a manipulative grin, and grabs my arm again in his claws. Leading me through the hallways again, I wonder once again what these people are planning to do to me. But what if they have forgotten?
I mean, they do not seem mentally inferior to me or anyone else I have ever met, but one can never be completely sure. He is opening doors at random, now, it seems, and just describing what he sees. I find it rather amusing, and as much as I try to contain myself, the little giggles keep slipping out. He pretends to be stern when I do so, acting as if he is dead serious.
"Well, this . . . seems to be a music room. There are . . . okay, let's leave, I've obviously never seen that room before in my life."
"Welcome to the workshop! See, there's that stuff made of wood."
I give Kiba a pitying glance. "You called this the music room . . . about an hour ago."
"Oh. Well . . . moving on!"
"This is my room, next door is—"
"Y-you did not open the door." I feel like a complete idiot when I say that. This is his room; he should not have to show me what is inside! I was just so used to him opening the doors that the worlds came out before I could think about what he had said.
"Well, if you want to smell—I mean see the bed I sleep in, the clothes I've worn the past month, and other random bits of garbage I've somehow managed to accumulate in there, well, be my guest." It is probably not as horrible as he is describing it, but I do not want to annoy him further.
"Well, this is . . . I don't know what the hell this is here for, actually." The room is humid and disgusting, and completely filled with mirrors. With just a glance into it, I can see at least three reflections of myself, horridly mussed up, looking like some sort of drowned rat. I quickly look off to the side, anything to stop seeing myself.
They used to call me Beauty, back at home. Not because they actually thought I had any kind of beauty, but quite the opposite. They always thought I was an all around plain person. Plain in physique, plain in strength, plain in intelligence. And I cannot say I do not agree with them. What could I possibly offer someone—both as a friend and as a lover?
It still hurt, that my own people were calling me Beauty. I got used to it, I suppose. What else was I to do?
In any case, that is in the past. I cannot afford to think about them anymore, or about any of the things that happened outside this castle. This is my home now, and its best I deal with it.
"Kiba. What is it that you are planning on doing . . . to me? Kill me? If you are . . . you need not put up a front of . . .of being so nice." My fingers unconsciously find each other and I fidget. As soon as I notice this, I am quick to pull them apart. They used to tease me for this, too. I do not want to look pathetic, even in front of the people that are going to kill me.
Even I have got my own sense of pride.
"We're . . . going to what?" I would have expected him to become uncomfortable, angry, surprised, anything but what he really was. He was laughing. He starts pounding the wall in his gaiety, and all I can do is stand there and gaze in awe.
Does he think I was kidding?
"What makes you think we're going to kill you? Do we look starved for food or something?" Little bursts of giggles are still slipping from his lips as he says this, but he looks more controlled.
"I . . . my . . . I was told I was to be some sort of sacrifice." I do not look at him as I say this. Now that I am speaking these words aloud, it all sounds ridiculous. I think about the attitude these people have had with me, and it is kinder than a majority of my own people have been to me.
Then why did my father . . .
Before I can complete the thought in my mind, I find myself slammed against the mirror, Kiba's face too close to mine, Kiba in general, too close. I feel myself turning red just at the proximity. I do not think he notices.
"Are you tellin' me that your own father left you here, thinking you were going to be killed?" His voice is strained and he is still far too close. His hands are on either side of my hand, but his face is less than five inches away from my own.
"Kiba . . . please . . . " I manage to whisper, glancing away slightly, a grimace more likely than plastered on my face.
Apparently, he notes my distress and back away, but the anger has not yet fade away. I jump when I hear one of the many mirrors slamming into the ground, and I close my eyes. No, no, no. Sliding down to the floor, with my back still against the mirror, I hold my head in my hands tightly.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. "Your father is scum!" I hear him say to me, but I still don't look at him. I am terrified, and these noises and feelings are bringing back things I want to remain buried forever. Eventually, all I hear is silence. Even so, I sit there on the ground, trembling, and feelings pathetic, covering my eyes still.
Gasp. Kiba got pissed.