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?
All those questions vanished from my mind when I felt her strike my back with great force, intending to bring harm. I sunk deeper into my bed sheets, wanting to disappear. She had never hit me so hard before, never. But she stuck me again, even harder, and screamed that she would have me killed.
"GET OUT!"
I scrambled out of bed before she could hit me again, instinctively landing on all fours as if it was the most natural thing to do. I heard my nails chatter against the hardwood. When I looked down, I came to a shocking realization: I was standing on four white paws.
Panicking, I stumbled backwards and smacked into the mirror. It came crashing down and shattered into a million pieces. I had just barely managed to dodge it.
Screaming, Mother came around my bed but stopped when her bare foot met a sharp shard of glass. "Get out, you filthy beast or I'll have you exterminated!" She reached down for a shard and pointed it at me, threatening me with the glass blade. "Get out!"
I jumped onto the bed and ran across the mattress, ripping the bed sheets with my claws. As I dropped to the floor, my tail knocked over the lamp on my nightstand, and the light bulb exploded when it hit the ground, leaving the house in darkness.
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET OUT, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL!"
As I flew down the stairs, my clumsy paws got tangled up beneath me, and I tumbled to the ground, sliding across the floor until the wall stopped me. With my dizzying vision, I could see Mother's feet at the top of the stairs.
I hurried to my feet and searched for an escape, looking right, left, then right again, and finally I saw the window Mother had left open in the living room. It was just big enough for me to squeeze through. Quickly, I dashed across the room and leapt through the open window to freedom.
But what kind of freedom was this?
I walked down the quiet street, the crescent moon my sole companion, and fought with my horrid reality. This had to be a dream, I thought. Surely, this was just another nightmare, and soon I was going to wake up safe in my bed — as a human, not as a dog.
I passed by a small puddle on the side of the road and stared at my hideous reflection. Somehow, I'd been reduced to a disgusting, smelly hound with pointed ears and thick white fur marked with copper-red on my back, ears, and forehead. A long tail seemed to move by itself behind me, constantly distracting me. At least a dozen times I thought there was somebody behind me, only to realize it was my beastly tail.
One, only one feature was still recognizable to me: my honey brown eyes.
I just don't understand, I thought. What could I have done to deserve this?
Biyoku's words suddenly ran through my head. "You take people for granted and think only of yourself ... What I'm about to give you is a very rare gift ... don't waste it."
I was being punished, I realized. That witch was punishing me for being mean to her son and his stupid mutt! She wasn't giving me a gift, and she certainly didn't want to help me. No, she cursed me.
So what am I supposed to do now? I thought. I can't live like this. I'm not supposed to be a dog!
Where was I supposed to go? I couldn't go home. Mother hated dogs. Once, when I was very young, I brought an abandoned puppy home and asked her if I could keep it. I promised that I would take care of it, and it would stay in my room, completely out of her sight, but she made me put the puppy outside. She said dogs were disgusting, filthy creatures that had no business in our house, and if she ever saw me so much as touch one again, I would be punished. Now, I was that wretched beast.
Seeing no other option, I decided to go to Yuzu's house. She was, after all, my best friend, so she would have to help me.
On all fours I ran down the road, and when I reached her house, I scratched at the door with my front paw over and over, and then I started barking as loud as I could. Finally, the door opened and Yuzu's mother poked her head out. She was a small women, a simple woman, but there was always a friendly twinkle in her eye. Tonight, however, that twinkle had been diminished by fatigue.
Yawning, the middle-aged woman gently shooed me away, saying, "Go on. Go home. There's nothing here for you." Then she closed the door in my face.
Since I couldn't get Yuzu's help, I walked around the village thinking of someone else to call on, but nobody came to mind. Who was going to help some stray dog anyway? Nobody knew who I was. I passed by Shikamaru's house, and Sakura's house, even Naruto's house, but I knew none of them could help me, not in my current state.
I'd just about given up hope when I passed by the tavern, and there I saw Father mumbling to himself as he stumbled down the road, stinking of alcohol, like he'd taken a bath in it. When he saw me, he gave a lazy, crooked grin and attempted to come over, but he quickly lost his footing and fell to the ground.
"Come here, puppy puppy ... Come here ..." He laughed as he attempted to stand, but the challenge was too great in his drunken state. Four times he tried to regain his footing, and each time he failed. Eventually, he just gave up and got comfortable on the ground. "Let's be friends, okay?" he said to me. "I'll go home with you tonight ... be free of my wife for one night." He sighed and dropped onto his back. "Ugh, I need a break."
He would be no help in his current state, I quickly realized, and once he passed out, I had no one else to turn to.
So what was I supposed to do? Stay a dog forever? Maybe somebody would eventually find me and take me in. A nice family with lots of money. They would buy me a warm, comfy bed and ...
Wait, what was I thinking? I couldn't stay a dog forever. I was a Konoha kunoichi. There was no way I could just stand by and let my life be ruined by some vengeful witch. No, I had to do something, and I knew just what to do.
If she turned me into this thing, then she can change me back, I thought as I took off into the woods in search of Biyoku's hut. The forest wasn't that large, and dogs were supposed to have good senses, so I naturally assumed I would find the hut in no time, but I was very wrong. Soon, I found myself wandering around without a sense of direction, just as I had done in my dream. Turns out, my enhanced senses were useless without something to go on.
Eventually, I gave up and sought rest at the base of a tall tree. The friendly crescent moon was shining its light on me, but it did not bring me peace.
What now? I thought sadly. What do I do?
I decided to keep trying. Slowly, I got back to my feet and took a step forward. That was when I felt something sharp clamp down on my front right paw, right where my wrist would be. It was an old, rusted wolf trap that held my captive, its steel jaws painfully ensnaring my paw.
My initial reaction was to panic. Desperately, I tried to pull my paw free, but that only made the jaws dig in deeper and cut right through my skin. Loud whimpers sounded from my clenched jaw as I struggled to free myself, but they soon quieted as I began to give up hope. I sat down, my paw trapped and bleeding, and hung my head.
I wanna go home, I thought. I just wanna go home.
Then I heard a twig snap, followed by the sound of footsteps, slow at first but then getting faster. I heard a boy's voice in the darkness, a voice strangely familiar to my ears.
My head shot up and turned toward the direction of the boy's voice. Narrowing my eyes, I peered through the shadows and saw a boy emerge, dressed in baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt. As he came closer, I was able to make out the two fang markings on his cheeks.
Kiba ...?
Kiba approached me cautiously, so as not to frighten me, and his face displayed a mixture of worry and determination. He spoke to me quietly, trying to calm me down. "Easy, girl. It'll be okay."
Kneeling next to me, he carefully placed his hands on either side of the trap and pressed down on the springs, finally freeing my trapped paw. Then he gently scooped me into his arms and carried me off, whispering soothing words to me. "It's gonna be okay, girl. You're gonna be all right."
In his arms, I felt safe and strangely at ease. Who would've guessed the boy I hated most would be the one to save me?
Well, at least I didn't have to thank him or anything.