I don't own anything Inuyasha.
...
11 years earlier...
A sturdy, white haired boy hit the ground hard as blood from his newly split lip dripped down.
With a groan he turned, scowling towards his attacker as a crowd gathered around them.
"Inuyasha," the smooth voice flowed like cream, but bit dangerously like poison, "Do not make the mistake of approaching me again."
A lithe teenage girl with short black hair confidently clung to the tall aggressor with silver hair as he stood over his prey. "Ha, proves that bastard ri-."
Suddenly, a gawky, oddly-dressed freshman girl broke from the crowd and stared at Sesshoumaru unafraid.