DISCLAIMER: Inuyasha and all its characters are property of The Creator Goddess, that is Rumiko Takashi, and not me, that is Piewolvesandsuch.

It's like a spark. Just a flicker of something deep in her heart, a tiny prickle of heat that started the moment he came to her side. It builds like a cancer, festers beneath her skin until she has no choice but to release it towards someone.

That someone is always him. Better him than anyone else. She couldn't just take her frustration out on anyone--that would be cruel. And she's always prided herself on being the pure, honorable miko. That reputation can't be destroyed over something petty, so it's best to let the scum take the full force of the blow. It's not like he cares, or he would have said something.

How she hates him. Yes, hates him. Perhaps once she could tolerate him, maybe she even loved him. Though it's more than he deserves. But these days even the little things can trigger that loathing and disgust. His happiness mocks her. He shouldn't even be allowed the luxury ofit, like a decent creature.

His misery garners him undeserved sympathy, when anyone bothers to notice it. Thankfully they usually don't. Nobody likes to look at a whimpering monster.

The cocky, self-assured bravado in his voice says he's better than her. The only time it stops is when he cries out in pain. Good, that's how she likes it--maybe a little pain will teach him not to be so full of himself.

Even when he protects her, throws himself at a foe as all self-concern flees in the opposite direction, she feels a sick kind of rage. Who does he think he's impressing? And what is he implying? She's a miko, guided by destiny and higher power, and she can protect herself. She didn't get where she is today by letting him throw orders at her, by hiding behind him.

But what she hates most is his eyes. He has the most intense eyes of anyone she's ever seen. Always bright, shimmering, sparkling gold. Like liquid sun, true demon eyes. Always brimming with passion for whatever he's doing, whether it's the heat and blood of a battle or a look at the sky. When else does that passion shine so brightly (not that she ever cares to know)?

Those eyes are the reason she feels this hate. He sees the world through pure fire which can never be extinguished, no matter how hard she tries. Even as his spirit molds to her will and he becomes quiet, more obedient. It always comes back.

And now he sits beside her, saying something or other. She doesn't deign herself to listen. His voice might irritate her, but it stopped sounding like words a long time ago. He should know by now not to test her; he needs to learn his place.

She turns to him and for a moment, fear flickers across his face. He can see something in her eyes too, these last moments, and it terrifies him. He stutters something, a plee to wait, to stop, to think.

She's not his to command.

"Sit boy!"

The effect is instantaneous. When he can finally raise his head, the expression is easy to read, full of betrayal and pain. But all she can see is the anger, the fire which burns like a funeral pyre now, even after being ground into the dirt.

"Sitsitsitsitsitsit!"

She stares down at him, hands clenched feverishly, each fresh cry flowing through her like a drug. Her mind swims with the power of her position. He needs to be hurt for dragging her into this mess, ruining her life, for everything he's ever done and ever will do to her, for ever being so foolish as to assume she could love something worthless like him.

Her soul swims with the hatred she feels for him, a blazing hell which was started by one little spark.

A spark that first came from those fiery golden eyes, beneath a tree long ago.

I hope you could scrape together some enjoyment out of my poorly done little fic, thrown together in the hour after I got done watching the third Inuyasha movie. Granted, I haven't been alive for a very long time, but the post-credits epilouge is the coldest, cruelest, most selfish, ungrateful thing I've ever seen. And I've been watching A Clockwork Orange all month long. Bah. Oh well--happy Halloween, my fanfiction droogies.