InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Inuyasha Diaries ❯ Chapter 4
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: wbk 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 07.30.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 438 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 07.30.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 438 | Status: Work In Progress
I would like to apologize in advance for the sword comparison remark. It was sparked by a discussion on the adinuyasha group site about the placement of the transformed tessaiga on the cover in relationship to Inuyasha’s body. It made me laugh so hard, I just had to find a way to include it somewhere.
I own nothing connected with Inuyasha.
Chapter 4
As he tried to wring as much water from his hair as he possibly could, Inuyasha found himself ensconced in a strange tree with a very familiar book. No matter how he looked at things he just couldn’t see where he’d been in the wrong this time.
Except, maybe, that he’d been a little hungry the night before when he was standing watch, and had eaten all the food that Kagome had brought back with her. She might have thought it was enough to keep them all fed for a week, but he knew it had hardly been enough for a snack for one hungry hanyou. He really needed to keep up his strength, didn’t he? After all, if he was weak from hunger who would protect the rest of them? She could have at least listened to his reasoning before she’d said that word!
Keh!
And why the hell did Sango have to put her views out there for Kagome to use as more ammunition in their battle of wills? Sure, the slayer might be good at tracking, but did she have to let Kagome know that there had been no signs of game in the area for days? That just proved he needed the food to stay strong. There must have been a demon in the area that had scared off all the animals. He needed all the energy he could get to be able to fight for them, didn’t he? Sometimes the sacrifices he was willing to make for his pack surprised even himself!
Kagome thought it would teach him a lesson to put him in charge of finding food, did she? Well, he’d done his best. He couldn’t help it if there wasn’t much around their camp. And he couldn’t very well go too far from them. If he did, who would protect them when that gluttonous demon made an appearance?
So he’d started out toward a berry patch that he’d seen the day before. He’d noticed that the berries were at their peak of juicy ripeness. Even though they had all seen him heading that way, do you think one of his friends could have thought to remind him that berries and thorns went together? No! He’d made the mistake of jumping right into the middle of that damn patch before his brain had found the stored memory that might have stopped him. It seemed that he had tried this same maneuver in the past, and it had provided the same result. Not only had the tiny barbs grabbed hold of his beloved fire rat clothing as soon as he’d landed, but he’d soon found his hair hopelessly ensnared, too.
Given the personality at work, his attempts to free himself only resulted in further entanglement. As he had tried in vain to yank one arm free, he’d fallen backwards into the waiting embrace of even more thorny vines. He’d found himself lying flat on his back held in the painful embrace of the wicked vines. And as a further affront to his lagging dignity the berries that had looked so appealing due to their ripeness decided to cover him head to toe in their juicy goodness.
The only thing worse than a frustrated hanyou, is a frustrated purple hanyou!
How could he ever face the others with a purple face? And why should he be worrying about having to face anyone when it looked like he would be spending the rest of his days flat on his back, in the middle of the berry patch from hell?!
A small voice buried deep in his mind reminded him that it could have been worse; his bastard brother could have chosen that moment to show up. Thanking the gods for at least sparing him that eventuality, he’d tried to think of a way to free himself from his bristly confines. He really, truly had tried to think. But the more he’d tried to think the madder he’d become. Mad and thinking just couldn’t exist in his mind at the same time.
As usual, mad had won out over thinking. Using all his strength, he’d managed to pull one hand free. With his ready cry of ‘sankon tesso’ he’d managed to slash the vines closest to that hand. Slowly making his way around his immediate area he’d cleared a hanyou shaped spot of vines. He’d had to admit that the vines that had been tangled in his hair had been the hardest to deal with. He hadn’t been able to turn his head until the vines were removed, and he couldn’t see the vines to be removed until he could turn his head. As a result he now had a rather unusual haircut to go with his rather unusual coloring. His purple skin and random hair length just seemed to fit together.
Standing carefully, so as not to entangle himself again, he prepared to leap out of the berry patch. How was he supposed to know that one wayward vine had wound itself around his ankle? And was it his fault that his friends just happened to show up at that very moment?
When he’d released the power in his coiled muscles to effect the mighty jump that would have taken him out of the thorny mess, that damned vine had made it’s presence known. It had grabbed hold of his ankle with a vengeance! How dare it show defiance to his will that way? As thoughts of ripping the vine out of the earth roared through his head, he’d found himself falling very ungracefully onto his face.
He’d heard the outraged cry of his name as it left the lips of his companions simultaneously. He’d known from the tones used that no good would come from whatever had caused their discomfiture. Pulling his head up far enough to see how best to protect his pack from whatever was attacking he’d seen nothing more than his friends, standing at the edge of the berry patch, covered with small purple spots.
How in all the levels of hell could they blame this on him? He hadn’t asked them to stand so close to the edge of the patch, had he? And he damn well didn’t need them to come and rescue him from a bunch of vines. He’d manage just fine by himself.
Readying his claws once again he’d barely started to remove himself from the purple prison when he’d heard Kagome shouting something about her last school uniform being ruined. He’d recognized the tone of voice she’d been using. He knew what would follow in it’s wake. He had only been thankful that he was already lying on the ground.
Keh!
The amount of berry juice that had pooled into the last crater had surprised the others more than it had him. He’d been lying in it, after all. Even though his proximity to the ground had prevented a truly inspired splash, he still had to snicker as he saw his pack once again covered with purple dots. He’d thought it was about time they got to share in the fun of those damn beads. Having his face submerged in a pool of muddy berry juice was not as bad a it sounded. At least it had made the ground softer than usual.
He’d once again started the laborious task of disentangling himself from the mass of thorns that he’d decided must have a vendetta against him. After all, they hadn’t just scratched and jabbed him, they had made the extra effort to wind themselves so tightly into his clothes and hair that it took most of the day for him to untangle himself.
Once he’d managed to free himself from the little patch of hell on earth, he’d noticed that the others had deserted him sometime during his travail. Following his ever trusty nose he’d had no problem tracking them. They were headed to a stream they had passed before. His righteous indignation blossomed as he realized they must be under the mistaken impression that their need to rid themselves of the berry juice was greater than his own.
Couldn’t they see that his being a giant, walking, purple grape would not help him in the least in his attempt to find food for them? Didn’t they know that the sticky, squishy condition of his clothes would hinder him in his hunt for game? If he could find any game, how would he be able to use any stealth when he continued to drip purple juice with every step? And every step caused the sticky clothing to disengage from his skin in a most painful manner. He could swear that, in some places, his skin had decided to stay with the clothing, and not his body.
He would be the first to admit that he’d probably not been in the best mood when he’d caught up to them. Who could honestly expect him to be? With all that chafing going on he probably wouldn’t be able to chase anything down for at lest a week. He was only thinking of their safety, after all!
So, why in hell would they take offense to his being a little pushy in his haste to get to the water to clean himself off? Maybe he should have been a bit more careful when he shoved the monk out of his way, but, damn it, he had to cleanse the gluey juice from his life before it caused any more problems. He just didn’t want to think about where Kagome would insist on putting ointment if walking became any more painful.
So he’d pushed the monk as he passed him, big deal. It wasn’t his fault that Miroku had lost his balance and had fallen down the hill. Besides, hadn’t he caught the girls trying not to let anyone see their smiles as the Hoshi did a fair impression of a runaway boulder as he rolled down the slope? Of course, they had run to his aid, but he would be willing to bet his sword that the coughs he heard between their words of comfort were only there to cover any laughter they couldn’t help but let out. So why did she think he was the only one that should be punished? And why did she have to say that word when his hakama had decided to stick in a very sensitive place?
Keh!
Once he could pick himself up, and pick his clothing from certain parts of his body, he made his way as stealthily as he could to the screaming beacon of the water. He reasoned that it was better to simply wade into the water fully dressed. That way he could rid his clothes and himself of the bedeviling juice at one time. Besides, he knew the others would soon be there, and he had no desire to lose any scant dignity he still possessed by standing before them naked. They had all seen his tessaiga, after all; there was no point in letting them compare it to his other sword. No matter what anyone else said, he knew that size did matter!
He had just breathed a sigh of relief over having his clothing release it’s grasp on his body, when the others arrived at the water’s edge. Now why was Kagome looking at him that way? The monk didn’t look so bad to him. Miroku had taken more damage in battles in the past, hadn’t he? Nobody had been forced to apologize then, so why did she think he had to say sorry to the monk, now? Couldn’t she see that, as their leader, if he admitted that anything he did was accidental, it would undermine all his actions? The hell if he was going to beg for the monk’s forgiveness! He’d just have to get over it on his own. But he knew that Kagome didn’t like to be thwarted in her desires, so he’d tried to make his way as far from her as possible, without giving up the blessed comfort of the water.
He’d thought how the fates had finally smiled at him; this stream was unusually large. He’d been able to put a little distance between himself and Kagome. The going had been slow, due to all the deep pools at the bottom of the streambed. He’d turned to face the others of his pack, when his foot had started to slip into what felt like a very deep pool. Being a superior being, he’d smirked to himself as he’d regained his balance without falling. He’d like to see any of the other be able to do that! No wonder he was the leader of this group!
Just as the superior attitude had settled over his mind, he’d heard that word as he’d felt the cold water rush up to meet his face.
Keh!
How could she have done that when he was standing in the water? He’d just had time to take one good breath before he found himself submerged in that same deep pool that he’d avoided only moments ago. He’d never really thought about whether or not the beads would work under water, but apparently they did; fate just wouldn’t have dealt him any other outcome. As he felt his body settle on the murky bottom, he’d decided that water was a hell of a better place to be sat than rocks. It had felt like he was floating. But he was floating, wasn’t he? He’s have to keep that in mind, the next time he made Kagome angry–always look for water.
As he’d felt his body settle on the bottom of the pool, he’d waited patiently for the spell to wear off. He’d known that with his superior body, he would be able to hold his breath long enough to not have to worry about running out of air.
While he’d waited, he’d felt something nudge his side. Even with his superhuman eyesight he hadn’t been able to discern what it was since the silt from the stream bed had been stirred up, but it had felt like it was something big! Just then he’d felt something push at the back of his head. Damn, this was getting serious! As the water had started to clear, he’d been able to make out dark shapes circling above him.
Why did it feel as if his hair was being pulled out in small clumps? And why were the giant gray configurations growing in number? Why hadn’t the beads’ spell worn off yet? Damn, Kagome must have been mad when she’d said it! Fighting against the spell that had still been trying to keep him under water, he’d managed to raise his head enough to see just what the hell kept pulling at his hair. Who would have guessed that gluey, purple hair strands that smelled like berries were so attractive to fish? Slowly raising from the bottom of the stream, he’d grabbed a giant catfish in each arm, and even managed to catch hold of a few trout, too.
No one had bothered to tell him that slimy fish were hard to hold onto. After a few near-loses, he’d decided to throw them on the bank, by the remainder of his pack. Maybe he had thrown them a little closer that he’d meant to, but Shippou would get over it once he woke up. As long as the kit could fill his belly he wouldn’t stay mad, after all.
So why wasn’t he basking in Kagome’s admiration? Why wasn’t she thanking him for providing enough food for a respectable dinner? And why the hell did she still have that look in her eyes? He’d decided that the best tactic in this situation was to retreat as quickly and as far as he possibly could before she could say that word.
Having learned his lesson during his last episode in the water, he used his feet to feel for another pool in the stream bed. Satisfied that he’d found the edge of something large enough to meet his needs he’d turned to face the still lecturing miko.
With a look of detached disdain, he’d launched his defense. He’d provided for them, after all. And it was up to them to do what was necessary after that, wasn’t it? Even if that meant dodging the food on it’s way to becoming dinner.
Why did it seem like that just made them all the madder? He’d met his responsibilities, so why did they think it was his fault when Shippou hadn’t met his? And why did she have to laugh as she said that word?
Keh!
As he’d felt his face rushing to meet the surface of the water once again, he had smugly congratulated himself on both his learning speed and his forethought. His thoughts had quickly changed as he’d found that the placement of his feet hadn’t been given the same consideration as his positioning. Finding himself heading for the shallow side of the streambed, rather than the deeper pool, he’d had to put his body through some very strenuous contortions. So why the hell did they all think it was a good idea to laugh so hard he could still hear them underwater?
When he’d broken the surface of the water with his face for the second time that day, he’d discovered that this pool wasn’t quite as deep as the first had been. Keeping his eyes open as he’d descended gently toward the bottom he’d been surprised to find it was already occupied.
How in the name of everything holy or unholy could a fish that big fit in a pool that small? And just how was he supposed to fit in the pool with it? Feeling himself slamming into the monster fish, he’d grabbed hold in a fit of self-preservation. As the subjugation spell pressed them both to the bottom the hapless hanyou could tell the colossus catfish had a temper to rival any demon’s.
No one could have expected him to have know how far out of the water a fish that size could jump, could they? Who would have guessed that the bottom dweller could make it up to the stream’s bank in one leap? And why would he have any reason to know that fish had excellent aim?
Just as he’d noticed that the trajectory of the leaping lump of fish fry would take them right into the middle of his pack, he saw that look in his Kagome’s eyes.
Keh!
At least the forced impact with the ground rendered the fish unconscious. And landing on a fish wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It wasn’t as soft as floating, but it wasn’t as sticky as berry juice, either.
As he’d finished putting the last flourish to his written account of the day he’d taken a moment to look around at the aftermath of the day’s activities. Not only had he provided enough for his friends, but they had invited the entire population of a nearby village to a fish feast!
So why was he stuck up in a tree with a book, once again? Looking down at the fresh inscription before him, he couldn’t resist the smirk that washed across his face. No one could possibly have a problem with his entry, this time.
Jumping down from his perch in the tree, he’d handed the book over to Kagome with the look of a wounded martyr. What could possibly be making the steam rise from her that way? It was only the truth, after all.
When he looked down at the book, he saw:
Because someone didn’t think to pack enough food, I had to spend all damn day providing for my friends, and the rest of the damn world. You would think at least one of them would say thank you.
As his face hit the dirt once again, he’d had time to speculate about how long it would take to get the purple stains out of his skin.
Keh!
~8~8~8~8
A/N-Thank you to all who take the time to read this story. An extra-special thank you, with a big red bow, to all who take the time to leave a review!
I own nothing connected with Inuyasha.
Chapter 4
As he tried to wring as much water from his hair as he possibly could, Inuyasha found himself ensconced in a strange tree with a very familiar book. No matter how he looked at things he just couldn’t see where he’d been in the wrong this time.
Except, maybe, that he’d been a little hungry the night before when he was standing watch, and had eaten all the food that Kagome had brought back with her. She might have thought it was enough to keep them all fed for a week, but he knew it had hardly been enough for a snack for one hungry hanyou. He really needed to keep up his strength, didn’t he? After all, if he was weak from hunger who would protect the rest of them? She could have at least listened to his reasoning before she’d said that word!
Keh!
And why the hell did Sango have to put her views out there for Kagome to use as more ammunition in their battle of wills? Sure, the slayer might be good at tracking, but did she have to let Kagome know that there had been no signs of game in the area for days? That just proved he needed the food to stay strong. There must have been a demon in the area that had scared off all the animals. He needed all the energy he could get to be able to fight for them, didn’t he? Sometimes the sacrifices he was willing to make for his pack surprised even himself!
Kagome thought it would teach him a lesson to put him in charge of finding food, did she? Well, he’d done his best. He couldn’t help it if there wasn’t much around their camp. And he couldn’t very well go too far from them. If he did, who would protect them when that gluttonous demon made an appearance?
So he’d started out toward a berry patch that he’d seen the day before. He’d noticed that the berries were at their peak of juicy ripeness. Even though they had all seen him heading that way, do you think one of his friends could have thought to remind him that berries and thorns went together? No! He’d made the mistake of jumping right into the middle of that damn patch before his brain had found the stored memory that might have stopped him. It seemed that he had tried this same maneuver in the past, and it had provided the same result. Not only had the tiny barbs grabbed hold of his beloved fire rat clothing as soon as he’d landed, but he’d soon found his hair hopelessly ensnared, too.
Given the personality at work, his attempts to free himself only resulted in further entanglement. As he had tried in vain to yank one arm free, he’d fallen backwards into the waiting embrace of even more thorny vines. He’d found himself lying flat on his back held in the painful embrace of the wicked vines. And as a further affront to his lagging dignity the berries that had looked so appealing due to their ripeness decided to cover him head to toe in their juicy goodness.
The only thing worse than a frustrated hanyou, is a frustrated purple hanyou!
How could he ever face the others with a purple face? And why should he be worrying about having to face anyone when it looked like he would be spending the rest of his days flat on his back, in the middle of the berry patch from hell?!
A small voice buried deep in his mind reminded him that it could have been worse; his bastard brother could have chosen that moment to show up. Thanking the gods for at least sparing him that eventuality, he’d tried to think of a way to free himself from his bristly confines. He really, truly had tried to think. But the more he’d tried to think the madder he’d become. Mad and thinking just couldn’t exist in his mind at the same time.
As usual, mad had won out over thinking. Using all his strength, he’d managed to pull one hand free. With his ready cry of ‘sankon tesso’ he’d managed to slash the vines closest to that hand. Slowly making his way around his immediate area he’d cleared a hanyou shaped spot of vines. He’d had to admit that the vines that had been tangled in his hair had been the hardest to deal with. He hadn’t been able to turn his head until the vines were removed, and he couldn’t see the vines to be removed until he could turn his head. As a result he now had a rather unusual haircut to go with his rather unusual coloring. His purple skin and random hair length just seemed to fit together.
Standing carefully, so as not to entangle himself again, he prepared to leap out of the berry patch. How was he supposed to know that one wayward vine had wound itself around his ankle? And was it his fault that his friends just happened to show up at that very moment?
When he’d released the power in his coiled muscles to effect the mighty jump that would have taken him out of the thorny mess, that damned vine had made it’s presence known. It had grabbed hold of his ankle with a vengeance! How dare it show defiance to his will that way? As thoughts of ripping the vine out of the earth roared through his head, he’d found himself falling very ungracefully onto his face.
He’d heard the outraged cry of his name as it left the lips of his companions simultaneously. He’d known from the tones used that no good would come from whatever had caused their discomfiture. Pulling his head up far enough to see how best to protect his pack from whatever was attacking he’d seen nothing more than his friends, standing at the edge of the berry patch, covered with small purple spots.
How in all the levels of hell could they blame this on him? He hadn’t asked them to stand so close to the edge of the patch, had he? And he damn well didn’t need them to come and rescue him from a bunch of vines. He’d manage just fine by himself.
Readying his claws once again he’d barely started to remove himself from the purple prison when he’d heard Kagome shouting something about her last school uniform being ruined. He’d recognized the tone of voice she’d been using. He knew what would follow in it’s wake. He had only been thankful that he was already lying on the ground.
Keh!
The amount of berry juice that had pooled into the last crater had surprised the others more than it had him. He’d been lying in it, after all. Even though his proximity to the ground had prevented a truly inspired splash, he still had to snicker as he saw his pack once again covered with purple dots. He’d thought it was about time they got to share in the fun of those damn beads. Having his face submerged in a pool of muddy berry juice was not as bad a it sounded. At least it had made the ground softer than usual.
He’d once again started the laborious task of disentangling himself from the mass of thorns that he’d decided must have a vendetta against him. After all, they hadn’t just scratched and jabbed him, they had made the extra effort to wind themselves so tightly into his clothes and hair that it took most of the day for him to untangle himself.
Once he’d managed to free himself from the little patch of hell on earth, he’d noticed that the others had deserted him sometime during his travail. Following his ever trusty nose he’d had no problem tracking them. They were headed to a stream they had passed before. His righteous indignation blossomed as he realized they must be under the mistaken impression that their need to rid themselves of the berry juice was greater than his own.
Couldn’t they see that his being a giant, walking, purple grape would not help him in the least in his attempt to find food for them? Didn’t they know that the sticky, squishy condition of his clothes would hinder him in his hunt for game? If he could find any game, how would he be able to use any stealth when he continued to drip purple juice with every step? And every step caused the sticky clothing to disengage from his skin in a most painful manner. He could swear that, in some places, his skin had decided to stay with the clothing, and not his body.
He would be the first to admit that he’d probably not been in the best mood when he’d caught up to them. Who could honestly expect him to be? With all that chafing going on he probably wouldn’t be able to chase anything down for at lest a week. He was only thinking of their safety, after all!
So, why in hell would they take offense to his being a little pushy in his haste to get to the water to clean himself off? Maybe he should have been a bit more careful when he shoved the monk out of his way, but, damn it, he had to cleanse the gluey juice from his life before it caused any more problems. He just didn’t want to think about where Kagome would insist on putting ointment if walking became any more painful.
So he’d pushed the monk as he passed him, big deal. It wasn’t his fault that Miroku had lost his balance and had fallen down the hill. Besides, hadn’t he caught the girls trying not to let anyone see their smiles as the Hoshi did a fair impression of a runaway boulder as he rolled down the slope? Of course, they had run to his aid, but he would be willing to bet his sword that the coughs he heard between their words of comfort were only there to cover any laughter they couldn’t help but let out. So why did she think he was the only one that should be punished? And why did she have to say that word when his hakama had decided to stick in a very sensitive place?
Keh!
Once he could pick himself up, and pick his clothing from certain parts of his body, he made his way as stealthily as he could to the screaming beacon of the water. He reasoned that it was better to simply wade into the water fully dressed. That way he could rid his clothes and himself of the bedeviling juice at one time. Besides, he knew the others would soon be there, and he had no desire to lose any scant dignity he still possessed by standing before them naked. They had all seen his tessaiga, after all; there was no point in letting them compare it to his other sword. No matter what anyone else said, he knew that size did matter!
He had just breathed a sigh of relief over having his clothing release it’s grasp on his body, when the others arrived at the water’s edge. Now why was Kagome looking at him that way? The monk didn’t look so bad to him. Miroku had taken more damage in battles in the past, hadn’t he? Nobody had been forced to apologize then, so why did she think he had to say sorry to the monk, now? Couldn’t she see that, as their leader, if he admitted that anything he did was accidental, it would undermine all his actions? The hell if he was going to beg for the monk’s forgiveness! He’d just have to get over it on his own. But he knew that Kagome didn’t like to be thwarted in her desires, so he’d tried to make his way as far from her as possible, without giving up the blessed comfort of the water.
He’d thought how the fates had finally smiled at him; this stream was unusually large. He’d been able to put a little distance between himself and Kagome. The going had been slow, due to all the deep pools at the bottom of the streambed. He’d turned to face the others of his pack, when his foot had started to slip into what felt like a very deep pool. Being a superior being, he’d smirked to himself as he’d regained his balance without falling. He’d like to see any of the other be able to do that! No wonder he was the leader of this group!
Just as the superior attitude had settled over his mind, he’d heard that word as he’d felt the cold water rush up to meet his face.
Keh!
How could she have done that when he was standing in the water? He’d just had time to take one good breath before he found himself submerged in that same deep pool that he’d avoided only moments ago. He’d never really thought about whether or not the beads would work under water, but apparently they did; fate just wouldn’t have dealt him any other outcome. As he felt his body settle on the murky bottom, he’d decided that water was a hell of a better place to be sat than rocks. It had felt like he was floating. But he was floating, wasn’t he? He’s have to keep that in mind, the next time he made Kagome angry–always look for water.
As he’d felt his body settle on the bottom of the pool, he’d waited patiently for the spell to wear off. He’d known that with his superior body, he would be able to hold his breath long enough to not have to worry about running out of air.
While he’d waited, he’d felt something nudge his side. Even with his superhuman eyesight he hadn’t been able to discern what it was since the silt from the stream bed had been stirred up, but it had felt like it was something big! Just then he’d felt something push at the back of his head. Damn, this was getting serious! As the water had started to clear, he’d been able to make out dark shapes circling above him.
Why did it feel as if his hair was being pulled out in small clumps? And why were the giant gray configurations growing in number? Why hadn’t the beads’ spell worn off yet? Damn, Kagome must have been mad when she’d said it! Fighting against the spell that had still been trying to keep him under water, he’d managed to raise his head enough to see just what the hell kept pulling at his hair. Who would have guessed that gluey, purple hair strands that smelled like berries were so attractive to fish? Slowly raising from the bottom of the stream, he’d grabbed a giant catfish in each arm, and even managed to catch hold of a few trout, too.
No one had bothered to tell him that slimy fish were hard to hold onto. After a few near-loses, he’d decided to throw them on the bank, by the remainder of his pack. Maybe he had thrown them a little closer that he’d meant to, but Shippou would get over it once he woke up. As long as the kit could fill his belly he wouldn’t stay mad, after all.
So why wasn’t he basking in Kagome’s admiration? Why wasn’t she thanking him for providing enough food for a respectable dinner? And why the hell did she still have that look in her eyes? He’d decided that the best tactic in this situation was to retreat as quickly and as far as he possibly could before she could say that word.
Having learned his lesson during his last episode in the water, he used his feet to feel for another pool in the stream bed. Satisfied that he’d found the edge of something large enough to meet his needs he’d turned to face the still lecturing miko.
With a look of detached disdain, he’d launched his defense. He’d provided for them, after all. And it was up to them to do what was necessary after that, wasn’t it? Even if that meant dodging the food on it’s way to becoming dinner.
Why did it seem like that just made them all the madder? He’d met his responsibilities, so why did they think it was his fault when Shippou hadn’t met his? And why did she have to laugh as she said that word?
Keh!
As he’d felt his face rushing to meet the surface of the water once again, he had smugly congratulated himself on both his learning speed and his forethought. His thoughts had quickly changed as he’d found that the placement of his feet hadn’t been given the same consideration as his positioning. Finding himself heading for the shallow side of the streambed, rather than the deeper pool, he’d had to put his body through some very strenuous contortions. So why the hell did they all think it was a good idea to laugh so hard he could still hear them underwater?
When he’d broken the surface of the water with his face for the second time that day, he’d discovered that this pool wasn’t quite as deep as the first had been. Keeping his eyes open as he’d descended gently toward the bottom he’d been surprised to find it was already occupied.
How in the name of everything holy or unholy could a fish that big fit in a pool that small? And just how was he supposed to fit in the pool with it? Feeling himself slamming into the monster fish, he’d grabbed hold in a fit of self-preservation. As the subjugation spell pressed them both to the bottom the hapless hanyou could tell the colossus catfish had a temper to rival any demon’s.
No one could have expected him to have know how far out of the water a fish that size could jump, could they? Who would have guessed that the bottom dweller could make it up to the stream’s bank in one leap? And why would he have any reason to know that fish had excellent aim?
Just as he’d noticed that the trajectory of the leaping lump of fish fry would take them right into the middle of his pack, he saw that look in his Kagome’s eyes.
Keh!
At least the forced impact with the ground rendered the fish unconscious. And landing on a fish wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It wasn’t as soft as floating, but it wasn’t as sticky as berry juice, either.
As he’d finished putting the last flourish to his written account of the day he’d taken a moment to look around at the aftermath of the day’s activities. Not only had he provided enough for his friends, but they had invited the entire population of a nearby village to a fish feast!
So why was he stuck up in a tree with a book, once again? Looking down at the fresh inscription before him, he couldn’t resist the smirk that washed across his face. No one could possibly have a problem with his entry, this time.
Jumping down from his perch in the tree, he’d handed the book over to Kagome with the look of a wounded martyr. What could possibly be making the steam rise from her that way? It was only the truth, after all.
When he looked down at the book, he saw:
Because someone didn’t think to pack enough food, I had to spend all damn day providing for my friends, and the rest of the damn world. You would think at least one of them would say thank you.
As his face hit the dirt once again, he’d had time to speculate about how long it would take to get the purple stains out of his skin.
Keh!
~8~8~8~8
A/N-Thank you to all who take the time to read this story. An extra-special thank you, with a big red bow, to all who take the time to leave a review!