"I dare you."

"No, you go first!"

"What are you scared?"

The half-demon's ears twitched angrily just listening to the bickering friends standing outside his home. This had happened a few times before, but he still hated it.

Inuyasha lived in an abandoned mansion with a 'condemned' sign on the front, which he thought ensured there would be no trespassers. Unfortunately, it meant stupid, nosy children poking around inside. More often than not, they were out late and dared each other to go into the "spooky haunted house".

Yeah, Inuyasha had spread that rumor by making spooky rattling noises and putting a lamp in one of the rooms to give it an eerie glow. Still, people came around. Until the day that someone was running away and nearly broke their leg. Then they gave the house a wider berth, much to Inuyasha's satisfaction.

And yet the occasional group of morons still came around to bother him. It gave him something to do, so he didn't gripe. Much.

This group was small—only three people. Boys. A little older than him, perhaps, at about sixteen. He peered through one of the boarded up windows down at them and watched.

"I'll go if you guys go."

"On three?"

"One…two…three!" The first two ran in, and the one that had been counting stayed behind.

"Asshole! You tricked us!"

"Not my fault you fell for it!" Inuyasha rolled his eyes. They always did that. He backed away from his window and headed down the stairs to scare them away. He wasn't much in the mood for shenanigans, though, so he settled for the classic. Avoiding being seen, he snuck through the pantry where he kept his supply of batteries and lanterns, grabbing his brightest one and heading silently back up the stairs to the top.

"This isn't so scary," one of the boys announced, more to dispel his fear than anything. Inuyasha smirked in the dark, knowing his little trick always scared them away and they never came back. He set up his lantern—it was more of a giant flashlight that had light that resembled the moon's—and positioned himself in front of it, waiting for them to step in front of the stairs.

"What about upstairs?" One of them said. Perfect.

"Naw, I think we should get out of here."

"C'mon, don't be a pussy," the other called back to his friend. He was laughing when he walked out into place.

In one quick and silent movement, Inuyasha flipped the light on. It shone behind him, outlining his silhouette, scraggly hair, lean form and doggy ears all showing in ghostly white light.

"Holy shit!" cried the one that saw him first. He pointed and his friends followed his gaze. Also taking in the dark figure at the top of the stairs. The dog-boy let out a growl that reverberated loudly down to them. They got the message and high-tailed it out of there, leaving him in peace.

"Freaking kids…" he grumbled, putting the lantern back where it belonged and heading up to his designated room. He slumped against the wall sleepily, there being no bed in that particular room, not that he needed one. He'd never much liked beds.

He peeked out the window if his room and stared at the moon. It was bright, and it glowed, a pearly aura around it contrasting with the onyx of the night sky. He watched it, mesmerized, until he fell asleep.

--

Morning came, and he got up and headed downstairs for food, something he didn't remember he didn't have. Normally, he'd go out at night and steal food, but he hadn't eaten in almost three days, and it was getting pretty urgent. He clutched his gurgling stomach and searched his house one more time for even a scrap of stale bread, and found nothing.

He was used to not eating for a while, but at that moment, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. Three days was the longest he'd ever gone.

He paced the length of his room.

To go or not to go. That was the question. If he went, he'd get food, but he'd also get ridicule and hateful stares from everyone around him. It was also more likely that he'd get caught stealing—he had no money to buy with. If he didn't go, he risked dying of starvation, even if he was exaggerating.

"Fine," he growled to himself. "I'll go." He stomped back up to his room and changed into some normal clothes—jeans and a baggy red sweatshirt made of surprisingly durable fabric his father had left behind. He tucked his hair up in a hat that hid his ears and hoped that he looked normal—there were no unbroken mirrors in the house, so he couldn't check.

He walked up to the door and stared at the handle, almost as if he expected it to turn on its own. He gulped and reached for it, and before he could change his mind, opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk of the empty street. H checked both ways before turning and heading right, off toward town.

--

"Thief! You get back here!" Inuyasha had no intention of that. He stuffed a roll in his mouth and kept running, not slowing in the slightest, and turning down the first alley he saw to avoid the shop owner he'd just stolen from. He leapt behind a stack of empty crates and squeezed into the gap between two planks of the fence.

He'd lived in that house since he was nine, two years after his parents left. Six years living in a town can almost assure you know your way around. He knew every shortcut, every building, and all the back alleys and sewer lines like the back of his hand. He knew where the river was, and he knew which shops and restaurants had the best scraps and garbage, and which ones had minimum security so he could steal their good food.

And now it was paying off. He didn't normally do that in the daylight. "But," he thought as he wolfed down his first taste of food in days, "it was worth it." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "They'll be looking for me," he thought. His hat had fallen off while running and they knew what he was. "I should get back home."

He got up, brushed off the back of his jeans, and started off home.

--

"Boring…" he said aloud when he got there. There was very little to actually do at his house, which is why he'd attempted to become nocturnal, as sneaking out at night was a lot easier. He stared at the clock on the wall, counting the 'tick's until it struck four.

"She's getting out of school," he said to himself, getting up. "I guess I can leave now." With that, he headed off for his normal midday ritual—being perverted.

In his defense, he was a teenage boy—fifteen to be exact, not that he kept track of that thing for himself. Ask him why or reprimand him, and he'd tell you that very thing, or more likely he'd deny everything and run away.

But everyday at about four o'clock, he'd head out, taking the back streets out to the country—about an hour's drive, or an hour's run for him—and hide in the trees. He'd get there at about five, when a certain someone was getting changed for dinner.

Kikyo. Even her name made him quiver with an emotion he'd never had before.

He'd first seen her once when she was walking to school. He didn't know if she'd seen him, though it was likely—he was making enough noise.

He'd been caught in an alley after stealing food. He was younger—maybe twelve or so, and hadn't come into his full strength yet. So his capture had been quick and easy. There were three—one held him, the others kicked and punched to get back at him. He still refused to let them win. He fought. But he was losing.

Across the street he could see a group of girls. Two or three of them, and they wore matching outfits, so he knew they were from the same school. Only one of them heard anything, and that girl was Kikyo. She watched them beat him up, and did nothing. He felt embarrassed and weak in front of her like that, but he couldn't do anything.

Her friends called her and she tore her eyes away form the scene and ran to catch up with them. It was a few minutes later that the men let go of him. As soon as they were gone, he followed her scent. He wanted to meet her, though he wasn't sure how to go about it.

He was too late. School had already started, but he decided he'd wait. He wanted to at least see her. And he did. Seven hours later he heard the bells, almost scaring him out of the tree he was perched in. He jumped higher into better cover and watched carefully.

There she was. But she was with friends.

At that time, she'd lived in the city rather than the country, so she walked home. He followed her. He found her captivating in some way, and it sickened him. He was half-demon. He was strong. He wasn't supposed to have such human emotions.

He changed his mind and turned back before he could see where she lived. Not that it mattered. He followed her the entire way the next day.

And so it had become a habit of his to follow her home. At first it was curiosity; she was the first person who'd ever looked at him without screaming and running away. Then it became more. He grew possessive of her. He hadn't seen any other guys hit on her, but it didn't matter. If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, he'd be in their face in a second, and she didn't even know it.

He made it to her house without incident and perched himself in a tree, just watching. She was just a girl. She did her homework, read books, listened to music, and when her parents called her down to dinner, she went. Nothing more than ordinary.

But not to him.

Soon it was late. The sun was beginning to sink. Once it was completely hidden by the horizon, he'd take advantage of that moment and go out to find food. It was about then every night that he would head home, and this one was no different. With one last glance at Kikyo, he leaped from the tree and started home.

A/N: Sorry this one was a bit shorter, but I wanted to get off the characters and get to the story. Check back later for another update.