InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Flirting with Disaster ( Chapter 11 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Sueric

~~Chapter 11~~

~Flirting with Disaster~

Kichiro held the chair for Belle as she sat down at the small table of the traditional Japanese restaurant. She smiled at him as he stepped over to his chair and waited until he was seated before she spoke. “I'm surprised you agreed to come with me,” she admitted. “Careful or I'll start wondering whether or not you really do hate me.”

“I never hated you, Belle-chan,” he argued as he reached for a menu.

She giggled. “You have a strange way of showing your apathy then.”

“I suppose,” he agreed. “So tell me why you want to find your father a mate.”

Belle shrugged and nodded as the waiter set down a glass of water. “Because I'd like him to stick around.”

Kichiro absorbed that for a moment. “When did your mother die?”

Belle sighed and fixed her gaze on the sweat condensing on the outside of the glass. “She died after I was born. Daddy doesn't like to talk about it. I suppose that's natural, right?”

That did surprise Kichiro. After so many years, did the man really wish to die? It seemed a little melodramatic. He survived the shock of losing his mate. That, in and of itself, was amazing. “He doesn't have to die, does he? He's already beaten the odds, staying alive this long.”

“He made a promise; he has to keep his word. Daddy's really big on vows. I think they're more important to him than anything.”

Kichiro frowned at the rest of Belle's rueful observation---the part she didn't put into words. `More important to him than anything . . . including me.'

“Are you sure that you're not misinterpreting what he's told you?”

Belle smiled sadly, running her fingertip around the rim of the glass. “I didn't misinterpret anything. I really wish I had.”

“Do you think it's fair, to try to trick him into living?”

“Maybe not,” she agreed lightly. “Then again, knowing that he won't be around to see my children and all that . . . Is that any fairer?”

He didn't answer as she deliberately lifted a menu to end the conversation. Kichiro took his time reading down the list of entrees but couldn't remember what he'd just read.

`That would suck. You know it would. If you knew that your father was biding his time so he could go join your mother in death . . .'

`But it is his choice.'

`Maybe, and maybe you're not willing to see her side of it, Kich. Balls, you know that if the situation were reversed, you'd try like hell to keep the old man around.'

`This isn't about me, it's about her and her penchant for trying to manipulate everything to suit her.'

`Oh? And just how did she manipulate you into coming here with her?'

`She didn't . . . that's the point. She isn't so bad when she's not trying to hide behind her façades and her manipulations.'

`Ooh, careful . . . I might start thinking you like her.'

`One thing at a time, okay?'

`Okay . . . and in case you didn't notice, that dress gives a great view of her rack . . .'

`. . . Hentai.'

`Just look!'

`All right,' he conceded with an inward snort. His youkai had a valid point. The low cut mauve dress she wore did provide a very nice glimpse of her breasts, and Kichiro indulged himself for a few moments in watching the rise and fall of her breathing.

`You're looking . . . and you like what you see, you dog. I'm so proud of you, Kich. I was starting to wonder . . .'

`Shut the hell up. Just because I looked doesn't mean anything.'

`So?'

``So', what?'

`So . . . what do you think?'

Kichiro stifled a sigh as he directed his attention back to his menu again. `So . . . it'll do.'

“So what unsuspecting woman did you toss into your father's path?” Kichiro asked, mostly to distract himself from his current train of thought.

Belle shot him a startled glance but smiled and carefully flipped her long bronze hair over her shoulder. “That's not really important, is it?”

“Maybe not,” Kichiro agreed. “Where'd you meet her?”

“In my building. Actually, Daddy met her first. I think she fascinates him.”

“Fascination is overrated. Just don't get your hopes up, Belle-chan. If your father made a promise, then I'd say you're fighting a losing battle.”

He regretted those words almost immediately. Belle's chin dropped and her shoulders slumped. Staring down at the table top, she seemed so sad, so alone . . . Kichiro grimaced, trying not to think about the reason why her sudden change in mood affected him. “Maybe you're right,” he agreed slowly. “Maybe this girl can make him see his way past all that but I'll tell you, this girl better be someone really special because that might take a lot of convincing.”

Belle peeked up at him, eyes dark, mysterious in the dimly lit restaurant. “I think she is,” Belle ventured. “I think . . . I think Daddy wants her to convince him.”

“What makes you so sure?”

She smiled just a little and set her menu aside. “He wants to give her wings. He said so.”

“Wings, huh. Sounds like your father is a dreamer.”

“That's what's odd. I think he stopped dreaming after my mother died.”

He considered her words as he placed their order. Belle didn't comment though he could tell that she was happy with the meal he'd ordered for her, the same as what he'd ordered for himself. Out of habit he'd nearly ordered her the salad and diet soda that most girls tended to favor. She was hanyou, like him, and ordering just a salad would have likely gotten him in real trouble.

“Tell me about Kelly,” he prompted as the waiter hurried away.

A vague shadow passed over Belle's features. She masked it quickly and smiled. “Kelly . . . we grew up together. She's the only other youkai I know. She was always trying to get me to do things, and sometimes I went along with her. Other times, I didn't . . .”

“Sounds like Ryomaru.”

Belle shrugged. “Maybe. Daddy says I'm too impulsive. He's probably right. I can't help it! I want to do things and see things . . . I want to live.”

“So that's it? The reason you want your friend to have reconstructive surgery is because you want her to be like she was before?”

“No . . . not that. It's the world. They'll look at her and only see the scars, you know? I doubt there's anyone who would look at her and see the girl I used to know, and they would either be horrified or feel sorry for her, and Kelly . . . she'd hate both.”

“How cynical of you.”

Belle sipped her water as a mysterious little smile surfaced in her eyes. “No more cynical than you, I'd guess. How long did it take for you to develop your skewed perceptions of the world?”

“I'm not that cynical.”

“Aren't you? If you're not, then why do you hate it when I do the same things you do?”

“Like what?”

Belle shrugged. “You don't really think I didn't notice you staring at my rack, did you?”

“Can't help but see something so obviously on display,” he shot back without any real rancor.

“That's true,” she agreed with giggle. “Anyway, Daddy says it best.”

“What's that?”

“Beauty should be shared, and my rack is definitely beautiful.”

“Listen, little girl---”

“You want to see them?”

“In the restaurant?” he challenged.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Here . . . there . . . wherever . . . What do you say, Dr. Izayoi? Maybe you'd stop calling me `little girl' if I introduced you to . . . `the girls'.”

He could tell she was just teasing, and teasing he could tolerate. Kichiro was about to call her on her bluff when he stopped himself. `What if it isn't really a bluff?'

`If it's a bluff, she'd back down. If it wasn't a bluff, we'd get to see the rack. Kich, I gotta say, there's not really a downside to it.'

Maybe not . . . except that he'd rather that the populace of the establishment didn't get to see the `beautiful rack'.

“Leash the girls,” Kichiro said mildly. “Now is neither the time nor the place for that.”

“You're more anal than I thought, Kichiro.”

“And you're a walking, talking, breathing scandal,” he intoned despite the tug of a smile on his lips.

`You didn't say she wasn't beautiful.'

`That's because I'd be lying.'

`Gotta fear a girl who knows the power of her rack.'

`This Kichiro will never fear the Belle-chan's rack.'

`Yeah . . . maybe you should.'

`. . . Shut up.'

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“Do you think she's okay?” Gin asked quietly as she glanced up from the menu.

Cain didn't lift his gaze. “I'm pretty sure she's feeling just fine.”

She frowned at his enigmatic tone and laid the menu aside. “Cain, are you all right? If you're worried about Bellaniece, we can go . . .”

“No . . . Bellaniece is probably eating something unhealthy and watching a movie.”

Gin tilted her head to the side and stared at Cain with obvious concern. “If you're sure . . .”

“Do you know what you want?” he asked, ignoring her question as he poked at his menu.

Gin bit her lip and turned her attention back to her menu. He'd let her choose the restaurant, and she'd picked out a small Italian bistro since she wasn't sure what sort of food he was accustomed to. He seemed pleased enough with her choice even though she wasn't familiar with most of the offerings on the menu. Since her father tended to avoid spicier fare, it wasn't a place she had frequented with her family.

“Umm . . . I don't really know what most of this stuff is,” she admitted.

Cain glanced up from his menu, blinking as her statement sank in. “Really?”

She shook her head. “Papa doesn't like spicy food, so we didn't really go out very often, and Mama is a good cook . . . Of course, Papa was happiest with ramen, even if Mama didn't like that . . .” She winced as she hunched her shoulders. “I'm babbling again, aren't I?”

Cain finally smiled. “Just a little.”

She could feel her ears droop as she winced. “Sorry.”

“No, it's fine . . . Do you want me to order for you?”

Gin brightened. “Would you?”

“Sure . . . not too spicy, right?”

“I trust you.”

Cain's smile dissipated quickly as a pink tinge crept into his cheeks, and he coughed. “Okay, sure.”

“Who the hell is he?”

Gin gasped and jerked back, sitting up straight in her chair as her head swiveled around to stare in shock at the hanyou stomping toward their table with a hostile frown and a black haired miko close behind. Kagome tried to grab InuYasha's arm to slow his approach. He shook her off gently but firmly as he closed in on Gin and Cain's table. Gin shot Cain a worried glance as she stood and pasted on an overly bright smile. “Papa!” she greeted, painfully aware of the other customers who were staring openly at the spectacle.

InuYasha let Gin hug him, but his attention was completely fixed on the tai-youkai who was slowly rising to his feet, too.

“Papa, what are you doing here? I thought you hated spicy foods.”

“I convinced him to try something new,” Kagome hurried to explain. “Small world, isn't it?”

“Answer my question,” InuYasha demanded, ignoring the stilted, if not completely polite, conversation.

Gin made a face, seeing no way out of the introduction she was loath to make. “This is---”

“Oi, Gin, I didn't ask you,” he growled. Gin grimaced and peeked around her father's protective arm to plead for Kagome's assistance.

Kagome rolled her eyes and grabbed InuYasha's hand. “InuYasha . . .” she began in her warning tone.

“And I didn't ask you, either, wench.”

“I'm Cain Zelig,” Cain stated in a tone that dripped with strained irritation. “I'm---”

“My teacher. Just my teacher. Only my teacher. At the university. That's all,” Gin plunged in. “Really, Papa, I swear it, just my teacher, nothing else. My art teacher. Isn't that great?”

Kagome slapped a hand over her mouth. InuYasha's ears twitched. Cain's jaw started ticking, and Gin could feel the hot blush wash over her skin.

Several long seconds passed while InuYasha and Cain continued to glare at each other. Kagome reached over and gently pulled Gin to the side. “I wouldn't say another word, Gin,” Kagome advised quietly.

Gin winced. “Did I overdo it?”

“Just a little.”

“Oh, no . . .”

“Look, InuYasha, our table is ready,” Kagome stated in a falsely bright tone.

“Changed my mind, wench. I think we'll join our pup for dinner,” InuYasha growled without looking away from Cain.

“Be our guests,” Cain returned in an equally unpleasant rumble.

“Papa---”

Kagome touched Gin's forearm. “Remember what I said about not saying anything else?”

Gin bit her lip but remained quiet.

“What the fuck are you doing here with my pup?” InuYasha demanded.

“Isn't it obvious? I'm teaching her,” Cain bit out. Gin winced at the blatant barb directed at her.

InuYasha cracked his knuckles as Kagome hurriedly grabbed his arm. “InuYasha, I'm really, really hungry.”

“This won't take long,” InuYasha shot back.

“You can't hurt him, Papa! He's the North American tai-youkai, and my professor!” Gin implored quietly, glancing around at the myriad of ogling customers as she tugged InuYasha's arm.

“Quiet, baby girl. This don't concern you!”

“But---”

“Yeah,” Cain goaded. “Her teacher. Nothing but her teacher. Absolutely nothing going on. Just teaching, right, Miss Izayoi? Swell, isn't it?”

“InuYasha!” Kagome hissed. “Come on!”

This time InuYasha allowed her to drag him away but he stopped beside the table next to Gin and Cain and sat down. “This table will be fine,” he growled.

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. “Enjoy your dinner,” she called back. “Nice meeting you!”

Gin grimaced as she slowly turned to peek at Cain, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at InuYasha, who was glaring right back. Gin flopped down in her chair and tried to make herself as invisible as possible.

“Sorry about that,” Gin muttered as Cain finally sat down.

Cain snorted in response.

The waitress took their order and hurried away as Gin stole glances at Cain and tried to discern what had irritated him so much.

`I think he's mad about your insistence that he is nothing but your teacher,' her mind whispered.

`Maybe,' she agreed. `But he isn't really anything else, is he? I mean, he is my teacher, and . . . oh, and Papa would have had a fit if he even thought that there was more to it than that. There isn't, of course. I just didn't want Papa to think otherwise, and . . . and . . . And Cain's really mad at me, isn't he?'

`Are you sure there isn't more to it than that, Gin? I mean, look at Cain. He's positively fuming!'

Following the advice of her youkai voice, she peeked up at Cain through her eyelashes. He was drumming his claws against the tabletop, glaring down at his fingers with a foreboding scowl. `I didn't mean to do that,' she fretted, wringing her hands in her lap.

`What did you expect, Gin? You stung his pride. Regardless of how he feels about you, he is a male. Look at your father or your brothers. If you had said the same thing about them, how do you suppose they'd have reacted?'

Gin winced. “Cain?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

His answer didn't reassure her. Tight, clipped, almost angry, he refused to look at her as he drummed his fingers a little harder. She started to speak but a quick glance over her shoulder stopped her. InuYasha's ears were twitching, and when he caught her gaze, he narrowed his eyes in silent warning.

`Don't worry about Cain; worry about explaining this to your father. He didn't buy your explanation, and he looks like he's about ready to light into Cain.'

`There's nothing to explain to Papa. Cain is just my teacher . . . and my friend . . . unless he hates me now, that is . . .'

Cain sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Let's just eat so we can get out of here,” he mumbled, staring past Gin at InuYasha with an unreadable expression on his face.

Gin leaned back as the waitress set a steaming plate of food in front of her. “O-okay,” she agreed, swallowing hard as she slowly reached for her chopsticks. The appetite that had been prevalent was conspicuously gone. Still she stuck a small bit of pasta into her mouth.

Cain didn't speak again, concentrating instead on his food. Gin squelched a sigh. The food had no taste to her, and her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. After a few more bites, she gave up, setting her chopsticks aside and dabbing her lips on the napkin.

“Don't you like it?” Cain asked quietly, his anger either gone or contained, Gin wasn't sure which.

“It's fine,” she replied, forcing a smile. “It's great. Thanks.”

“If you don't like it, I can order something else for you,” he offered.

Gin shook her head. “No, really, I'm just not hungry.”

Cain didn't look like he believed her. Gin picked up her utensils again and resumed eating.

`You were babbling about starving on your way here, Gin. No wonder he doesn't believe you now.'

Gin wrinkled her nose and took another bite.

`You need to tell him you're sorry, at least after your parents are gone.'

`I will,' she thought, seeing no way around that. `But if I do that . . . won't it seem strange?'

`As I see it, you have two choices. You can apologize for bruising his ego and be embarrassed for a few minutes, or you can leave it go and have him brooding indefinitely. No matter how he looks at you, Gin, your adamant insistence wasn't a good thing. Even you have to know that, right?'

Gin sighed. `I suppose.'

`Good girl. Now keep eating. He's still watching you---and so is your father.'

The mention of InuYasha was impetus enough to keep Gin from setting the chopsticks aside again. InuYasha knew as well as anyone that Gin had always had a healthy appetite. The more suspicious she acted, the more dubious InuYasha would be, and the last thing Gin wanted was another ugly confrontation between Cain and her father.

Cain finished his food and pushed his plate away. Gin hadn't even finished half of her entrée as Cain leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest again. He still looked peeved despite his otherwise bland expression. The table trembled just a little as he tapped his foot impatiently. “You look like your mother,” Cain finally remarked.

Gin blinked in surprise and rested her forearm on the table. “I do?”

“Sure. You have your father's coloring, but you definitely look like your mother.”

Gin smiled as some of the tightness in her stomach loosened its grip. “If you think I look like her now, you should see me on my human night.”

Cain looked surprised at her statement. “Really? How so?”

Gin shrugged. “I have Mama's coloring then, too,” she said. “Doesn't Bellaniece have human nights, too?”

“Sure but she doesn't look that much different. Human ears and no fangs but otherwise she looks the same. When is your night?”

Gin winced and peeked back at her parents once more. “I can't tell you,” she muttered. “I'm not supposed to tell anyone.”

Cain didn't remark on that as Gin stuffed another bite into her mouth. She didn't dare tell Cain about that, did she? If InuYasha wasn't furious already, he'd have to be scraped off the ceiling if he heard her telling Cain about that . . .

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Belle stole a glance across the table at Kichiro. Speaking quietly into his cell phone, he intercepted her amused stare and winced in apology. Belle shrugged and shook her head before turning her attention to the restaurant.

It was really nice, she had to admit. Quiet, ambient, very, very sophisticated, the clientele were all well-dressed and polite. Though it had surprised her at first, Belle realized that Kichiro would be more at home in a place like this than he would be in a noisy fast food establishment. She liked the change. Glad that she'd changed into a nicer dress before he'd arrived, Belle was having a much better time than she'd thought she would. Kichiro was charming, pleasant, and the changes were definitely unsettling.

`You like him, don't you?'

Belle shifted uncomfortably. `He's nice enough.'

`Nice? Nice doesn't begin to cover it, Belle. He's all those indefinable things, the kind of man you could stand to be around for a long, long time.'

`Daddy would love that, wouldn't he?'

`Well, he'd be shocked, sure . . . you're still pretty young. Your father would probably be thrilled, once the surprise wore off.'

`Just because Kichiro is being nice one time out of two and a half weeks, I don't think it's time to be thinking of anything further in the future than dessert.'

`Oh, now who's being catty?'

`I'm not being catty.'

`And I'm not breathing.'

`Sorry to hear that.'

`Sure you are.'

Kichiro snapped his cell phone closed and stowed it back in his pocket before turning his attention back to Belle once more. “Sorry about that.”

Belle shook her head. “It's fine. Patient of yours?”

Kichiro made a face. “Not hardly. It was Nezumi. Ryomaru got a gash on his forehead in a fight, and she was worried about it.”

“You're not?”

“Hardly. Ryomaru wouldn't miss a few brain cells, anyway.”

The waiter interrupted the conversation as he slipped the plates onto the table and disappeared again.

Belle stared at her plate for a moment, examining the food with a discerning eye. “This looks . . . good,” she ventured as she flicked her napkin and spread it on her lap. “What did you call it?”

Kichiro took up his chopsticks and shrugged. “Teppanyaki---grilled steak. We were too late for the cooking display, if that's what you meant. Something wrong?”

“Um . . . it's . . . really rare,” Belle remarked as she stared at the barely cooked meat displayed on the plate. “Excuse me,” she said as she caught the waiter's sleeve to stop him as he passed the table.

“Is there something I can do for you, Miss?”

“You speak really good English,” Belle commented with a bright smile, slipping her hand around to pat the young man's hand. The waiter blushed. “I hate to be a bother, but this meat, you see . . . I can't eat it this way . . .”

“I can take it back . . . cook it longer? Yes?”

“Oh, please, if it isn't any trouble,” Belle cooed as the waiter lifted her plate once more. “You're such a dear. Thank you!”

She watched the waiter hurry away with her food, smiling slightly before she looked back at Kichiro. He was staring at her with a disgusted frown. Tossing his napkin on his untouched food, he slowly shook his head and sat back. “That was nice. What're you doing for the encore?”

Belle cocked her head to the side and frowned. “What?”

Kichiro snorted. “Come on, Belle. You could have just asked him to take it back and cook it more thoroughly, but no, you had to fawn all over him, didn't you? You had to try to manipulate the poor bastard into doing what you wanted him to do.”

“I didn't---”

“You know what? Save it. I don't want to hear it. Damn!”

Belle watched in shocked silence as Kich stood up and dug a wad of bills out of his pocket to drop on the table. After casting her one last withering glare, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

Belle sat in shocked silence for almost five minutes after Kichiro's unceremonious exit. `I didn't . . . what just happened?'

`What do you mean, what just happened? You happened, Belle! You did what you always do, and Kichiro didn't appreciate it.'

`I didn't do anything! I just asked the waiter to take the meat back and cook it a little more . . .'

`No, Kichiro was right. You draped yourself all over him, batted your eyelashes, and simpered all over the kid, just to get your way. You could have just asked. It's his job, after all.'

`That wasn't what I was trying to do! I didn't even realize I was doing it, for God's sake!'

`Yeah, convince yourself of that later, Belle. Right now we've got bigger fish to fry.'

`Like what?'

`Like the fact that every single person in this place is staring at you like you're an absolute abomination. Get us out of here, will you?'

Belle stood up, trying to ignore the covert stares she was receiving, as she straightened her back and mustered as much dignity as she could before she strode out of the restaurant, too.

The air on the street was blessedly cool, almost chilly on the early May evening. Belle glanced up and down the street with a sigh. She wasn't looking for Kichiro, not really . . . She knew he wouldn't have stuck around, not with as furious as he was. Still she had hoped . . .

`Hoped for what? He's too mad to listen to you. You really ticked him off.'

`I wanted to explain,' she thought weakly. `It wasn't really what he thought. I didn't mean it that way . . .'

`Why do you care, Belle? He's mean to you most of the time. He's arrogant and rude . . . Why'd you even call him, of all people? And why does it bother you so much now?'

Belle's feet felt heavy as she shuffled down the sidewalk. `I don't care, exactly! I just don't understand him, that's all.'

`You don't care? That's interesting.'

The click of her heels on the concrete sidewalk sounded hollow, melancholy, entirely alone. The four block walk from the restaurant to the apartment building seemed like an impossible trek. With every step she took, she felt like she was being carried further and further from home, and for one brief, fleeting moment, she wished that she really was a little girl again.

Cain always made everything better for her, didn't he? He'd hold her whenever she fell and scraped her knees. He protected her against anything that threatened. How many times had he come to her in the middle of the night when she had nightmares? He'd crawl into her little bed and let her lie next to his heart, and he never complained about what had to be uncomfortable hours spent soothing a child in the darkness that was all too unkind to her. She was too old to seek that sort of comfort now. There were some things that even daddies couldn't fix.

`Grow up, Belle. Stop lying to yourself. You want to be a woman but you hide behind the guise of the little girl. You think you can take care of yourself, but in the end you can't even admit the truth.'

`What truth?'

`That you care about what Kichiro Izayoi thinks of you.'

`How do you figure?'

`You care. You wish you didn't, but you do. You've always been that way, haven't you? You do things first, without thinking about what it'll seem like, and then you realize a little too late that maybe you were a little too rash.'

Her pace quickened as the savage desire to lock herself away in the quiet of her bedroom seized her. `That's not it. That's not it, at all!'

`Face it, Belle. You've been in trouble before, you know. It's easier to regret things when you're looking back but the thing you never realized was that it would be much simpler if you'd just learn to think first. You could avoid all the trouble if you did. You could stop having to say you're sorry.'

`I'm not sorry! I didn't do anything! I wasn't trying to flirt or manipulate! I wasn't trying to do anything but . . . but . . .'

`Then what? Did you just get a speck of dirt in your eyes?'

Belle sniffled, dashing the back of her hand over her misting eyes. `Yeah,' she thought miserably. `That's what it is: dirt.'

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`Gin's father . . . we could take him . . .'

`Shut up, you.'

`We could. You know we could. Bet it wouldn't take much to get him to fight us, either.'

Cain jammed his hands into his pockets as he and Gin wandered through the dimly lit park. She was talking but he wasn't listening. Caught up in silent fretting and introspection, he just nodded and uttered a series of grunts, and Gin mistook it for his full attention. `Dirty trickster. You used to use that on Bellaniece until she figured out what it was all about. Gin'll figure it out, you know. Then you'll be sorry.'

`Pfft! About as sorry as she is about the whole, `he's my teacher' spiel.'

`Are you still brooding over that? Hell, Cain . . . she was telling the truth.'

`She was telling part of the truth,' he countered, clenching his jaws so tightly that the slow ticking commenced.

`Part? What do you mean, `part'? What part did she leave out?'

`The part about her being my---friend.'

`Oh, my God . . . you . . . you almost said it! You almost said she was your cake fairy!'

`I did not!' he grumbled. `That's just stupid! Ridiculous! Shut up, you!'

`This is bad, Cain, really bad. This is so far past bad . . . Ba-a-a-ad.'

`I thought I told you to shut the hell up.'

`Bad dog, Cain! Bad! Leave Gin alone! Down, boy!'

Cain's growling interrupted Gin's chatter. She stopped and turned to eye him suspiciously. “Cain? Are you okay?”

“Yep. Fine. Peachy. You were saying?”

Gin's frown lingered a few seconds longer before her impish little smile returned, and she clasped her hands behind her back and started strolling along the path again. “I asked if you can do it.”

“Do . . . what?” he asked slowly, watching as Gin's little yellow skirt swayed around her hips.

`Dog.'

`Shut u-u-up.'

“If you can do it, will you show me? I've never seen one before . . . well, not one that big, anyway . . .”

“That . . . big . . .?” he choked.

“Yeah! I mean, I figure you'd be huge, right? If you can do it, that is . . . Uncle Sesshoumaru told me once that after you reached a certain age, you lose your ability to do it.”

He wasn't sure if he was more alarmed by what Gin was saying or by the complete chagrin in her expression. Worse and worse, really, as she peeked over her shoulder, was the rapidly growing indignation that he, Cain, was too old do to . . . whatever `it' was. “I'll have you know, baby girl, I'm not too old to do anything.”

She giggled and spun around, leaning forward slightly as she pushed her hands up behind her back. “You were listening to my father. That's all right. I don't mind.”

Cain snorted, still ruffled over the insinuation that he was too old.

“So you can still do it? Really?” She stopped as her eyes widened, sparkled, and she ran back to his side to grasp his arm. “If you do it, can I touch it? I'll bet it's really soft and fluffy, and . . . Oh, Cain, I really want to feel it.”

“Can you . . . Gin . . . what the hell are you talking about?” Cain croaked.

“Toga showed me his once. He wasn't very big though . . . maybe because he wasn't very old . . .”

“Toga . . . showed . . . you . . .?”

“Mhmm . . . Please Cain? Please?”

`Oh . . . my . . . God . . .'

`Shut . . . the hell . . . up . . .'

“Gin, what are you talking about?” he demanded, voice louder than he intended, but necessary to cut through her endless chatter.

She blinked but stopped talking long enough to cast him a duly befuddled look. “Your youkai form . . . the giant dog . . . you can still do that, you said . . .”

“My youkai form?” he echoed incredulously. “All that . . . was about . . . that?”

“Well, yeah . . . what'd you think I was talking about?”

Cain snapped his mouth closed and fought back a flush. “Not a thing,” he grumbled. “Come on.”

“Oh, are you going to take me somewhere to show me?”

“No!”

Gin sighed and shook her head. Cain stopped and swung around to face her. Ears drooping, rubbing the toe of one shoe in the dirt, she looked crestfallen, and Cain winced. “You're still mad at me aren't you? About earlier? About Papa?”

“No,” he admitted. “Well, maybe a little . . .”

`Shut up, Cain!'

`Hush, you!'

“I didn't want Papa to cause a scene . . . err, more of a scene than he already had, and . . . Cain? You're . . . my friend . . . right?”

Something about the vulnerability in her expression was a devastating thing. “Yeah, Gin . . . you're my friend.”

The smile that lit up her face started small but grew brighter and more brilliant as she perked up her ears and clapped her hands. His breath hitched in his chest, and he swallowed hard, unable to do more than blink as he stared at her. She didn't notice his pause, and she hurried to catch up with him, grabbing his hand and dragging him along the park pathway. “You're really not mad?”

“No, Gin, I'm not.”

“Good, because I'd probably cry if you were.”

“Don't do that,” he insisted. “Just . . . I'm not mad.”

They walked along in silence awhile. Cain tried to keep his eyes off her, but her silvery hair kept drawing his gaze. She was so tiny, so little . . . She looked so fragile, yet he knew better than that. Her anger had been too real, too electrifying. If he never saw that temper again, he'd remember the one time forever.

“So your uncle said that he can't change anymore?” he asked to break the silence, to shift the direction of his thoughts away from her.

Gin shrugged. “Yeah, but I was sort of a pain. Mama told me that Papa cut off Uncle Sesshoumaru's arm when they fought in my grandfather's tomb over Tetsusaiga, and all I wanted was to see him in his true youkai form. Maybe he told me that to shut me up. Then I started bugging Toga.”

Cain laughed and shook his head, his amusement mingling with Gin's soft giggles. The sound was pleasant---too pleasant. It'd been a long time since he'd laughed with anyone . . .

`You miss it, don't you, Cain? I do, too.'

`Yeah,' Cain agreed with a sad little sigh. `Yeah, I do . . .'

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A/N:

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Final Thought from Cain:

Friends, huh . . .

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Justification): I do not claim any rights to InuYasha or the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

~Sue~