A/N: This is the back story to a minor character of my main arc, Inukonjou (Dog Spirit). There are no spoilers for the main arc, and you will probably enjoy reading this one first. As a matter of fact, I recommend it. As always, reviews are welcome!


Arashi downs his third cup of saké, hoping it will numb away the stress of his last assignment. The pain from his bruised ribs doesn't bother him in the least. Although fire-types have the worst healing ability, they are very tolerable to pain. The half human, half canine warrior is no exception, but he is still very annoyed. The mission would have gone a lot better if it wasn't for those damn, earth-type warriors who were with him.

"Stupid earth-types," Arashi mumbles to himself as he sips on drink number four. "The shit-heads are dumber than a sack of rocks."

The fire-type warrior chuckles at his own pun at the corner table of the crowded tavern. A serving woman, believing that his smile meant was for her, returns a seductive smirk. Catching a woman's eye is inevitable for a young, attractive warrior like Arashi. The proud fire-type keeps his long, jet-black hair tied on top of his head in a neat ponytail. His bangs are always carefully trimmed, allowing any onlooker a glimpse of his serious, piercing, crimson eyes.

Not wanting to send misleading signals, Arashi quickly averts his gaze. Although the warrior is on hiatus and a quick romp in bed would likely relieve some of his stress, the warrior is simply not in the mood. Besides, this is a human village and the flirter is also human. The estrus cycle of their kind is difficult to predict, and Arashi definitely doesn't want to be bothered with pups.

Arashi shudders at the thought. I'm thinking too much, the fire-type warrior chastises himself. I need to retire to my sleeping quarters. He had already reserved a room for himself upstairs.

A group of loud, obnoxious men enter the already-packed tavern, giving Arashi more reason to take his leave. The young warrior stands up, showing off his 198 cm (six-foot-six) stature. He stops short, however, for the men's conversation has gotten Arashi's attention.

"So what did you do about that harlot sister of yours?" A balding, overweight man asks his companion.

"She's no sister of mine", the companion answers. "I can't believe she'd lain with one of those mongrels. What do you call those creatures?"

"Inukonjous, Miroku," an older, third man answers. He strokes his salt-and-peppered beard as he shakes his head with shame.

"It's common for loose women to become smitten over those lecherous beasts," the balding, overweight man says. "They can take human form, after all. But to do such a thing when she was promised to Tetsumi-sama…"

"Ungrateful bitch," Miroku grumbles as he runs his fingers through his short, brown hair. "I could have been set for life."

"Wasn't she with child?" The older, bearded man asks. "What are you going to do once she gives birth?"

"I told you already… She's no sister of mine!" Miroku yells in frustration. "She got into labor this morning, and I threw her ass out."

The crowded tavern suddenly falls into silence. Only the sound of Arashi's low-pitched, intimidating growl can be heard, and even felt. The tavern's guests stare into the eyes of the fire-type warrior, which are now glowing a fiery-red from pinned-up rage. People like Miroku are the reason why the Society was established. Half-breeds like himself were commonly shunned by humans and full-bloods, left with neither place nor purpose in this cruel world. Of course, the asshole inukonjou who got the poor girl pregnant is equally responsible.

Miroku, unaware that a half-breed was amongst them until now, freezes in terror. He watches helplessly as Arashi approaches him. The terrified man's companions quickly make a safe distance between them and their friend. However, Arashi walks right pass Miroku, not even bestowing the pathetic man a backwards glace. He addresses the nervous serving woman.

"Keep my room on hold," the warrior says in a controlled, low voice. "I will return."

The woman nods her understanding, too scared to inform Arashi that half-breeds are not welcomed in the sleeping quarters. He will be the owner's problem, the woman thought. I don't get paid enough for this.

Arashi steps outside the tavern and sniffs the air. If the woman did indeed go into labor this morning, he should pick up the scent of her blood or, if it was a short labor, the afterbirth. The fire-type warrior looks towards the setting sun, taking in the scent of the latter. He must hurry; Arashi will not be the only predator trailing that scent. The elemental warrior runs on all fours towards the western forest, on a mission to rescue a mother and child.

A/N: Part two of this three-part story will come next Sunday. Happy New Year!


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