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One of the first things Kaz realized about Inej was that she could tame any animal. When she was comfortable enough with him to sit at his window and feed the crows, she would coax the neglected birds with breadcrumbs and softly spoken Suli words. They eventually learned to await her arrival and brought her shiny things in thanks. “See Kaz.” She told him after a particularly violent day. “Living things respond to kindness. It is their nature.” He had gotten beaten pretty badly and he was trying to tend to his own wounds, wincing as he pressed a bandage to his cheekbone. His leg throbbed from overexertion. It may or may not have had something to do with the sorry state he was in, but he had a worse temper than usual that day, and he decided the sooner she let go of this ridiculous idealism the better. He told her snidely, “You ought to practice what you preach Wraith. Did you not strike Bastian across the face with brass knuckles when he wrapped his arm around you?” He knew the strike was warranted. He had clutched his glass so tightly he thought it would break when after she left the Crow Club, Bastian grumbled, “I wish I’d had enough kruge to bed her in that whore house.” Kaz had coolly glared at the other boy, a violent emotion he could not quite place roaring to life inside him. He desperately wanted to express it by beating Bastian to a bloody pulp, but he feared that would lead the Dregs to believe Inej was something more to him than a spider. And thus, he exercised an impressive amount of self control. Still, Kaz Brekker did not feel remorse, he did not regret the things he said. He told himself it was for the best when Inej's face hardened and she left him.
–
The Barrel’s stray cats learned to find her in the shadows. He knew she left them food and water, despite his warning not to. “Must you mother anything that looks half alive?” He snapped at Inej one day as they walked to a job. She paused to stroke the cat that sidled up to her behind the ears. It mewled at her softly and he scowled at it. “What’s the problem?” Inej asked. “She’s not aggressive.”
“Those things are unpredictable and filthy.” Kaz said without decorum.
“She doesn’t have rabies, and cats clean themselves.”
Kaz scowled at her. How do you know? He wanted to ask, but decided against it. “We are late to a job. Per Haskell will have a fit if we don’t get that DeKappel.”
“I can spare a second for one of the most unloved creatures in the Barrel.”
“The Barrel can’t even care for its people. If you are so desperate to be kind, help them first.”
“Unfortunately people are not so easy to help.”
As he watched Inej, Kaz felt an ache. It was not the same type of pain he felt as when he thought of his parents or Jordie. With those thoughts came a feeling akin to a knife being stabbed in his chest and twisted for good measure. There was no guilt or grief associated with the hurt Inej incited in him. He did not know when he first felt it. Perhaps it was the first time she smiled, truly smiled, and her skin seemed to be lit from within by the sun. Perhaps it was after her first fight, when she climbed through his window bloody and bruised–clearly needing help but too proud to ask for it–stealing bandages and alcohol from his desk before she left to treat her own wounds. The ache always impacted Kaz the most when he saw the uncritical and overwhelming love she showed towards any neglected animal. Whenever he saw her being so gentle he wanted to say, “I can be gentle too.” He wanted to tell her his worst dreams were no longer of Jordie, but of her. He had dreams where he could feel the warmth of her bare skin above his, where he fitted his hand to the curve of her waist, where her hair came loose from her braid and created a curtain around him that kept out the demons. He would whisper against her lips “You make me a fool”, and the smile she gave him in response was more beautiful than anything he deserved. It became evident that he was, in fact, a fool when he woke up cold and alone, full of fear and nausea at the thought of being close her. Guilt always washed over him in the morning when he realized he had thought of her in a way she did not want to be thought of after everything she had been through. He was particularly cold towards her on the days after he had these dreams, but he did not know how much longer he could keep up this façade, it had already started to slip around her. To be practical, and out of pride if he was being honest, he taught himself to recognize her presence whenever she was near. He had made it so she could never again sneak up on him, but fate played a cruel trick and now he could never not see her. However, the true problem was, sometimes she could see him just as clearly. Try as he may, he could not be Dirtyhands around her. She seperated the monster from the man. His mask of indifference was useless. The ache inside him grew stronger when he realized she had no clue what she did to him.
–
One night, after Kaz and Inej came home from Geldstraat their pockets full of Mrs Van Daal’s valuable jewelry, they saw a dog. Well, they actually heard it first, whimpering from the shadows. Kaz did not want to stop. His leg ached and he had to take inventory of their loot before he retired for the night. Inej of course, stopped anyway. “Oh no.” She whispered. “Oh Kaz look, its leg is broken.” Sure enough, a dog with long white fur, reminiscent of a popular breed merchers kept for companionship, was lying in the street with its leg twisted at a strange angle. It whimpered pathetically and cowered when Inej approached. She crouched next to it and Kaz wanted to pull her back, but he didn’t. “I’m not going to hurt you” Inej murmured, and when the dog seemed to realize she had good intentions, it weakly thumped its tail and dragged itself to her outstretched palm, sniffing it curiously. She soothingly said something in Suli, speaking to the dog as if it could understand her, before reaching out to pet its back. The poor thing tried to roll over to give her more access, but whined when the action irritated its injury. Inej moved slowly to lift it in her arms and the dog cried out in pain. “I’m sorry.” She said under her breath. “I know. I know.”
“It might be rabid Inej.” Kaz warned.
“No, look. It has a collar. It was once some merchant family's pet, it must have been.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “But look how thin it is, it hasn’t been fed in a while. Poor thing.”
“And what are you going to do? How can you possibly help?”
“Jesper told me the students training to be medics at Ketterdam University have to take a seminar about caring for sick or injured animals, and they go on class trips to practice by vaccinating strays.”
Kaz scoffed. “What will you do? Drop it outside a hospital? There are no charitable acts in Ketterdam. If they aren’t paid, those medics will let the dog die or kill it themselves.”
Inej scowled. “No, I’m not taking it to a hospital. I’m taking it to the university library. I'll leave it on the steps. A student who can care for it will take it in, or the med students will heal its injury for practice, or the administration will try to find its owner. This city isn’t all bad, shevrati .”
“How can you of all people say that?” He meant to ask the question with genuine curiosity, but it came out sounding jaded and snide, so she glared at him and sunk into the shadows to walk slightly ahead. Suddenly, he felt the desperate need to remedy his mistake, and he limped quickly to catch up with her. However, when he reached her, instead of an apology he blurted, “Did you ever have a pet?” Inej looked at him surprised, then her eyes softened and she smiled distantly. “My uncle got the family a little fluffy white dog when I was nine years old. My parents were against the idea at first. They thought it would be difficult to keep a pet because we were constantly traveling, but it wasn’t. We used him in the show for a while. He would jump through hoops and do little spins. He used to lick my hands every time I tried to pet him. I wonder…I wonder if they still have him.”
“You will know soon enough.” He said, and immediately he wanted to kick himself. What happened to ‘better terrible truths than kind lies?’ But he could not bring himself to regret saying it because he could not think of a single snide comment, and the wistful smile on her face was so beautiful that all he wanted was for her to smile wider at him. He felt that familiar ache when she did. He wanted to tell her that he once had a dog too. It was a large brindle colored guard dog that Jordie had aptly named Bear. He was menacing to strangers but fiercely loyal to the family, especially to him and Jordie. Kaz used to play fetch out in the fields with him when it was warm and cuddle with him by the fireplace when it was cold. He loved Bear intensely. It broke his heart when they left their loyal dog behind to come to Ketterdam. He did not tell her that though. Kaz Brekker had lost every person he had ever loved. He had done unforgivable things, things that made it so he would never deserve Inej Ghafa–no matter how much he changed for the better or she changed for the worse. No, he could not tell her how full his heart used to be, how openly he used to love.
Instead, he let himself return her smile.