DOG TAILS | KIBA INUZUKA

4. A Rude Awakening

I was back in the forest somehow, aimlessly wandering through the darkness, searching for something I could never seem to find, yet it never occurred to me to stop looking. 

"You're heading down a troubling path." Biyoku's accusing words passed through the wind as quiet as a whisper. "You take people for granted and think only of yourself."

I found my classmates in the wood, only children to my eyes. Together, they laughed and ran and hid amongst the trees, playing a strange game that was unknown to me, and I could not figure out the rules. When I tried to play too, they all shunned me. "You can't play with us, Ikuko," they all said. "You can't play with us."

But I wanted to. I wanted to play their game, but they said, "You can't play with us, Ikuko. You don't know how to play."

"Pride can be a dangerous thing, young Ikuko."

Giggling, my classmates ran and hid behind the trees, and they started whispering in a language I couldn't understand. When they finally emerged again, they appeared not as children but dogs, large dogs, wild dogs. They stepped out one after another, creeping along on their paws, and then they started coming toward me, slowly but steadily. Ten pairs of eyes watched me, glowing bright like tiny candles in the shadows.

I backed away. Leave me alone, I wanted to say, but I could not form the words. They wouldn't stop, and I couldn't stop them.

Frightened, I turned to run, and then I saw me, as a child, dressed in the blue dress Father had given me, the dress I'd ruined, the dress I had to throw away. She looked at me, little Ikuko, stared right at me with her honey brown eyes; then she pointed her tiny index finger at me, and she spoke to me, but the voice was not her own — it was Biyoku's hoarse voice: 

"What I'm about to give you is a very rare gift."

Suddenly, my ears started ringing and a searing pain shot through the top of my head, the exact spot where Biyoku's cane had struck me. I fell to my knees, clutching my head in agony, and the dogs began to close in around me. I looked to the left, to the right, forward, backward, but there was no escape.

"... don't waste it ..."

Pain took over my entire body. My bones felt like they were twisting and bending, contorting my body into an inhuman shape. I thought I was going to be ripped in half. My arm shot forward, gripping the earth beneath me, and my nails grew and sharped into long claws. Reddish-brown fur tore through the flesh of my hand and spread up my arms.

"... don't waste it ..."

A loud, painful howl ripped through my throat, my humanity being consumed by a beast.

I could still hear the howling when I opened my eyes. A pale crescent moon hovered outside my bedroom window, reminding me that I was home safe. My white sheets were strewn about in a twisted heap around me, damp with sweat, and my forehead was feverish with worry. I took a deep, calming breath. 

It was just a dream, I told myself. It was all just a dream. 

I rested my head back on my pillow and closed my eyes, but something didn't feel right. No matter how many times I turned over, I couldn't seem to get comfortable, not as I was before.

I heard Mother's pounding footsteps on the wood floor, and I cringed, bracing myself for what was to follow. Mother hated to be woken in the middle of the night; she would not be happy with me. When my bedroom light turned on, I kept my back to her and pretended to be asleep like I usually did, but I knew that wouldn't save me.

"What's going on in here? What are you—" She let out a high-pitched shriek. "Oh my gosh! Get out! Get out of here, you filthy beast!"

Filthy beast? I knew she would be angry, but I never expected her to be screaming so furiously at me. Had she been drinking again? Had Father not come home? Or worse, had he come home smelling of another woman's perfume?