Dog vs. Homework
Funny stuff. Cuteness. I don't know.
When the dark haired girl did not look up from the hardback in her lap, his patience began to dwindle.
Kagome still did not look up to meet the taiyoukai’s hard golden eyes, and Sesshomaru did not dare turn around to bring his hanyou brother to get the girl. Pride and dignity held him back from receiving any help from the boy. Surely Inuyasha would mock him for not being able to budge the human priestess.
Sesshomaru studied the enigma in front of him; to her indecently short kimono to her strange vocabulary, Kagome was indeed a mystery. And the fact that she could read was even more of interest than anything else.
Her fingers found the sharp corner of a page, and she fingered it for a second before licking her thumb and turning the page over.
Tightening one fist, the only sign of his frustration, Sesshomaru spoke to her once more: “Miko, it is time to leave.”
She was perched on top of a boulder, her legs folded underneath her with the book resting between her legs. Her hair covered her face from sight.
And she still did not move.
“Oi,” the hanyou called from the path, where he stood with their other companions, “Sesshomaru, what’s takin’ so damn long? Let’s get a move on!”
Gritting his teeth, Sesshomaru finally lost what little patience he still held and, in one bound, found himself on top of the boulder, startling the miko from her reading.
“Hey! Give that back!”
But Sesshomaru already had the book between his large, powerful hands and in one swift movement, tore the book in half. And then in quarters. Before passing it indifferently back to the miko.
“We are leaving.” And he jumped from the boulder and walked smugly away.
Kagome groans inwardly as she faces her teacher, her hands clutching a plastic bag to her chest. Inside the plastic bag are the few remains of homework she was able to save from the raging taiyoukai in the feudal era. Whatever had gotten into Sesshomaru, she might never know.
And her teacher will never find out.
There’s no way she’d believe me anyways, Kagome thinks as she finally sets the bag against her desk.
“Kagome, where is your homework? Did you lose it again?” probes the teacher at the front of the room as she stacks the other student’s papers together.
“No, ma’am…” Kagome replies, tiredly. “I did it.” And she slowly approached the front of the room, dragging the bag beside her.
The teacher gazes at her curiously, “Well, where is it then?”
And Kagome, very unceremoniously, dumps the remains of her homework on the teacher’s desk. “A dog ate it.”