A/N: There'll be a bigger author's note towards the end, but I felt I should warn you that I've suddenly developed an eye fetish...don't ask me how, but suddenly I'm finding myself totally fascinated with eyes and my sudden fascination will be reflected in the fic. Yeah, I am pretty weird, sometimes...

Only Words Can Say

Chapter 3: Eyes

It was raining.

Most of the other kids had squealed and scrambled to get inside their warm, dry houses as soon as the first raindrops had begun to polka-dot the pavement, but not him. Nope, he was different. Mommy so rarely allowed him out to play, he was going to make the most of it, even if it was raining.

But first to get comfortable.

Whipping his small head first to the left then to the right in an inconspicuous attempt at surveying the area, he deemed his surroundings safe and threw off the red baseball cap his Mommy forced him to wear. Ah, much better.

Tiny puppy dog ears momentarily perked upwards and swiveled about before flopping downwards against a shock of pale hair. Yes, the rain felt good against ears that had been squooshed under a hat for so long.

Holding two cupped hands outwards in front of him, red hat forgotten at his feet, he began making his way down the street,

"Ith wainng

ith pouwing

the old man

ith thnowing,"

His small voice echoed eerily throughout the empty street, not muffled in the least by the patter of rain or the soft padding of his feet against the sidewalk.

"He went to be

and bumped hith head

and couldn't get up

in the mowning."

He gave a sigh of utmost content; he always loved that part of the song. Eagerly he opened his mouth to belt out the song again, but a barrage of deep thoughts suddenly flooded his six-year old mind, causing him to stop and squint solemnly up at the sky.

Was it raining because the old man was snoring? How could the old man be snoring before he went to bed? And who exactly is this "old man?"

He heaved yet another sigh; what a trial it was to be plagued by such profound and pressing matters! He shoved his small hands into the pockets of the drenched, red pants he picked out and continued to pout ponderously at the clouds, secretly enjoying the sensation of the heavens weeping down upon his upturned face.

Eventually the frown was smoothed from his brow and was replaced by a look of innocent fascination, amber eyes widening as he discovered that if he stared long enough at a certain spot, he could see single crystalline drops of water slowly falling to the ground, like the time he had broken Mommy's pearl necklace and hate watched in horror as each creamy bead slowly plummeted down to the floor. He had made Mommy cry that day. Before he could stop himself his hand had shot forward to snatch each bead before it fell to the ground and got dirty, but instead of scolding him, Mommy had just swept him into her arms and began sobbing into his hair.

Ears flopping forward because of the force, he threw his head back and leapt determinedly upwards, hands outstretched above him. Maybe if were fast enough, he could catch enough raindrops to make his Mommy a new necklace a lot prettier then the pearl one he broke. Alas, his leaping was in vain for all he got were rivulets of rain sliding down his arm and clammy hands.

Cold, tired but not daunted he resorted to raising his hands above his head and pouting-bordering-on-glaring at the sky while walking back to the flat; he was bound to catch an unbroken raindrop in the end.

But it wasn't a cool, small, sparkly-raindrop that slid into his hands moments later, but two white, warm hands that curled about his small ones and spun him around.

"Where have you been, baby? You're going to catch a cold," Mommy gently chided, kneeling down to peer concernedly into his eyes.

"I'm thowwy Mommy, I wath twying to catch you a waindwop," he explained, throwing his chubby arms around her neck and snuggling into her hair. Mmm. He loved Mommy's smell. She didn't carry that soft, warm, maternal scent that he could faintly sense on other kids, but she did smell of French perfume, smudged lipstick and silk dresses and he found that those smells combined were just as comforting.

"Oh, I see. Did you catch any?" She scooped him up and held him against her hip.

"Nope," his face scrunched up in disappointment, "They kept on sliding thwew my fingers."

She laughed, hazel eyes dancing, and reached heavenwards with her free hand, uselessly pawing at the air, "Aw, I'm sorry babe," she chuckled, kissing him on the cheek, "the raindrops slide through my fingers too."

Pulling back slightly, his ears once again flopped to the side as he tilted his own head to the side and gave a decided nod,

"I wuv you Mommy."

"I love you too baby," she whispered, pressing him to her bosom, "I won't let you go."

"M-Mommy?" He tried to push away to see her face but she held him even tighter, soothingly stroking his head,

"Shhh, hush."

"B-but M--"

"Hush now love."

His limbers were beginning to ache, he couldn't breathe!

"M-Mommy! Ith tho hot, pweath--I--"

"Shhh, it's going to be okay. I'll take care of you."

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, flames licked at his body, his hands, his clothes. The smell of rotting/burning wood and scorched concrete was causing his eyes to water and the fiery hot floor planks bit at his feet. He clenched his fists and barely dodged the burning ceiling beam that suddenly crashed downwards.

Dammit.

The smoke and ash were dulling his senses; he wanted to get out of there and fast...but wait!

He needed to find something, someone; he must find her. He had a painful, terrifying feeling that if he lost her, whoever she was, that everything would stop, that his very breath would be snatched away from him and he would just drop, a gaping hole in his chest.

He sprinted down a hall--it was strangely familiar-- and kicked down a door, it being half burnt any way.

There! On a mattress in the corner! He dashed into the room over to the lithe figure sprawled onto the mattress. With trembling hands he dragged her closer.

Damn.

Too much fucking smoke in the way. He brought her even closer; why could he still not see her face? close, closer, he felt her nose brush against his, closer closer...

Shit!

He would've dropped her in surprise but there was nothing to drop. There was only those eyes, those innocent, stormy gray eyes flecked with dark blue, fringed with sooty black and utterly mesmerizing.

It was as if he were under some sweet spell that wouldn't let him drag his gaze away from the eyes that both intrigued and comforted him at the same time. Like endless bolts of fabric-- refreshingly cool to the touch and dyed every hue of blue imaginable-- he wanted to wrap himself in them, allow them to soothe his throbbing chest and fevered skin.

Gods, he wanted nothing more than to surrender to those feelings of safety and security (almost sinful because the last time he had experienced them was when he was a mere pup) but the little, piercing voice named instinct was screaming that doing so would just be plain stupid.

First of all, who was this girl? Why was she sleeping in an obviously abandoned, obviously burning building?

And why did those eyes look so damn familiar?

They couldn't be Kikyo's, could they? No, they looked almost identical, but hers never conveyed such emotion any more. BUt who else could they belong to?

K. Her name started with the letter K.

Ka--

Dammit all to hell!

Thick, black smoke was starting to cloud his vision, gently tuggint he body from his vice-like grip.

No! Not yet! He need to know her name!

Ka--

She was gone.

Gritting his teeth as if biting back his frustration, he inhaled deeply, immediately regretting it as he stomped down the impulse to clap his hands over his nose.

The musky wreak of dirty socks from the locker rooms, the chalky scent of graphite pressed into the woodsy smell of binder paper, and the sour odor of day old milk from the cafeteria all wound themselves together to evolve from a cacophony of different smells into a single, bitter scent that not only had his eyes smarting, but was a painful reminder that he was NOT in a burning building, but still in the hell-hole he liked to call school.

Blinking blearily up at the partially covered sun, Inu Yasha attempted to regain the composure he had lost at the startling sigh/smell of the school. What in the seven hells had just happened to him? One minute he had back-pedaled to being six again, then he was suddenly in some burning building, and now he was in the empty quad at school talking with Miroku. How could he be sure that this wasn't a part of whatever demented daydream he was doing through?

He tested the air again and winced; no dream could wreak so bad. Re-shouldering his hold on his backpack, he glanced at Miroku, who was waving around some flyer, to make it look like he was listening before glaring at the ground.

He still couldn't figure out that girl's name.

"Well, you're playing the part of the angst-ridden delinquent quite well, aren't you?"

"Hmph. You're playing the part of the lecherous wanna-be pimp even better." Inu Yasha shot back.

Miroku held up his hands in defeat, "Touché. Hey weren't you supposed to be in there ten minutes ago?" He motioned his head towards the art building Inu Yasha had been glowering at earlier.

He shrugged, "Yeah, so? Why aren't you in there?"

"I had a prior engagement."

"You felt that Kagura chic up in PE again didn't you?"

"Actually, no. You know a girl by the name Sango?"

Inu Yasha raised an eyebrow, "She's the one who wears guy pants all the time, right?"

"Man, you should see what's under those pants!"

Bopping his perverted friend over the head he rolled his eyes, "I'll leave that to you."

"If you insist," Miroku grinned with a resigned sigh. "But any way, what do you think?"

Inu Yasha stared blankly at him, "Uh, think about what?"

"This!" Miroku once again waved a green flyer back and forth in front of his face, momentarily forgetting about his friends "special" abilities. Before he could gasp in surprise, Inu Yasha had snatched the flyer out of his hands, further crumpling it, and was already wrinkling his nose at it in disgust,

"Old movie night? Why the hell would I waste my weekend with this crap?"

"Babes love that stuff! It'll be like an all you can eat buffet."

"You do remember I have a girlfriend, right?"

"Well, bring her along. You guys can make out in the back and I'll be the poor third wheel in need of comfort." Clasping his hands together, Miroku gazed upwards and batted his eyes angelically at his companion who promptly hit him over the head.

"Ow! What was that for!" He whined loudly, causing Inu Yasha's ear to flatten against his beanie.

"Quiet," he hissed, "you know my friggin ears are sensitive."

"Oh, sorry man. They probably hurt a lot after that squeaky war you had in Jakotsu's class."

"For the last time, it wasn't a squeaky war. That sounds stupid."

"You sound stupid."

"Oh, you broke my heart there."

"I'm sure...so, are you going?"

"I don't know, I'm kind of busy--"

"Oh I get it. Writing that poem for Kaede's class, eh?"

"W-what the hell are you t-talking about?!" Inu Yasha sputtered, eyes narrowing.

"You know! In lit? When Kaede couldn't decide whether your poem or this other chic's in second period was better? You have to write an--"

"I don't know what you're smoking," Inu Yasha cut in icily, "but I did not write that prissy ass poem."

"Mmmhmm, sure, sure Yash. I just didn't know you swung that way. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cuz I don't swing that way," he snapped, eyes flashing, "Plus, I'm not the one wearing purple right now."

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"Out of here," he smirked over his shoulder. He needed to go somewhere quiet for the sake of his ears and his uneasy mind. "Tell the teacher I feel like throwing up."

"But you used that one last week!" Miroku called back, but Inu Yasha had already jumped the fence and turned the corner.

"..and do you know what that—that prick said to me afterwards, Kagome?"

"No Sango," Kagome sighed, looking up at the sky. It had been sunny when she entered the art building earlier, but it seemed that the light breeze that had been blowing all day had brought some clouds in with it because she couldn't even catch a glimpse of blue sky now. She heaved another sigh, overcast skies always affected her mood.

"He said, and I quote 'Oh, so that's what you're hiding under those baggy pants of yours. You wanna see what's hiding under mine?' Can you believe that?"

"He actually said that with a straight face?" Kagome asked, semi-forcing herself out of her dismal mood.

"Yup."

"And you let him live?"

"Unfortunately yes," Sango admitted, but brightened when adding, "But I did kick him in the groin and then push him into the dumpster."

The pair laugh and were making their way down the steps leading off campus, when a shout caused them to pause, giving a boy clad in loose-fitting pants and black hair in a short pony-tail the perfect opportunity to slide down the banister and land gracefully in front of them. Armed with a roguish smile he eagerly clasped Sango's hand, the aforementioned girl too surprised to protest,

"So, we meet again, Sango, my dear. I see you have once again dawned you boyish, form-hiding pants, but rest assured, I still vividly remember what lies beneath."

"If you couldn't tell, this," Sango ground out, attempting to pull her hand away from his, "is the guy in PE that I was talking about."

"Hey, he's in our art class, isn't he?" Kagome observed, biting her lip to keep her laughter in check.

"Oh, and who's this?" Miroku murmured, swiftly dropping Sango's hands, eyes traveling appreciatively the length of Kagome's body.

"M-me? I'm no one, really," she insisted, gray eyes widening when Miroku somehow managed to latch onto one of her hands and began raining kisses across her palm.

"Um—er—eep! It's nice to—erm—meet you," she finally managed to squeak, finally tugging her hand away and clutching it to her chest.

"The pleasure's all mine. My name's Miroku by the way, and your name is?"

"K-Kagome."

"Kagome, what a beautiful—"

"Since you two seem to be getting along quite nicely," Sango interrupted coldly, "I think I'll just be going home now, if you don't mind."

In a flash, Miroku was once again at Sango's side, clinging to her arm, "Sango, I'm sorry if my attention to Kagome has upset you. No, no, don't speak," he placed a finger over her lips, "Allow me to apologize by escorting you home."

"T-that's really not necessary," she stuttered, turning even redder than Kagome had, "I'm perfectly capable of getting home myself. Plus, I don't feel like getting raped today," she mumbled under her breath, causing Kagome to snort back a laugh.

"What was that? Ah well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you get home safe and sound. Now, where do you live?"

"If I tell you, will you get your hand off my ass?"

"Only if I must."

"Trust me, it's in your best interest."

Sighing he removed the offending hand and crossed both arms over his chest, "Now, where do you reside?"

With as much dignity as she could muster, she smiled, quite seductively actually, stepped forward, and connected her knee with his crotch.

"Bye Kagome, bye Miroku," she waved as she began walking down the street, "Oh and by the way, I live in the Laguna apartment complex."

"Wait Sango," Miroku rasped, jumping up from the fetal position he had fallen into, "Allow me to escort you!" Wincing, he hobbled after Sango's disappearing figure, utterly unaware of the strange looks he was getting.

A giggling Kagome waited until both Sango and Miroku disappeared from view before she schooled her face into some semblance of sobriety and began walking in the opposite direction her friend had left in. Clutching her binders closer to her chest, Kagome's eyes once again lifted heavenwards to the overcast sky, happy to note that an occasional shaft of sunlight permeated through the clouds. Hm, maybe today wasn't too bad.

Sure, she had that little squeaky war with Inu Yasha, and sure she had gotten her first detention in five years, but in contrast to everyone else's lives she probably didn't have it too bad. Yeah, life was actually pretty good, right?

Her thoughts continued in this calm, rambling fashion as she made her way downtown in her short girlish skirt, hugging her collage-covered binders to her chest, head held high, her stormy gray eyes wide and dreamy looking. And just as calmly and steadily, the lavender, rose and yellow colored houses surrounded by white picket fences began to slowly morph into ugly navy blue and olive-colored apartments and townhouses with chain-link fences, and eventually even that gave way to empty lots, rust-tinged factories and dark alley-ways. The change of environment appeared to have no affect on Kagome, who still had that dreamy look in her eyes and that thoughtful ghost of a smile on her lips. She just walked on pass those dark alleyways, ignoring the hooded eyes that lurked within them, occasionally stopping to give some change and a smile to a homeless woman and her child.

Finally she stopped in front of what must have been a noble establishment in its youth, but, like the rest of the downtown area, was reduced to a broken-down and abandoned brick building. It towered four stories above her with two metal structures protruding upwards from which smoke used to furl, but were now left to do nothing but gather rust. Small, rectangular, grime-coated windows which provided no means of looking in or out were scattered throughout the fourth and third stories, while the lower stories had only one or two large windows that were mostly intact, but had an occasional pane punched out giving the building the look of a blind man gaping in open-mouthed agitation as the rest of the world carried on without him. All in all, the building should've been a sobering sight, especially with cloudy, gray skies in the background, but Kagome merely smiled fondly up at the building and walked up the three steps to the massive door that led to the interior of the school.

She absently brushed her fingertips along the plaque attached to the metal doors:

The Shikon no Tama boarding school for young ladies

Established December 16, 1843

Courage, Family, Wisdom, Love

As usual, an image of what she imagined the school must've been like in its prime flashed into Kagome's mind for a moment and she gave a nostalgic sigh.

"Wow. How sad change is sometimes," she murmured aloud, pushing the doors open with an ominous creak. A smile flitted onto her face at the sound so similar to that of her chair in bio, but disappeared quickly at the sight of the dark corridor in front of her. As stated earlier, the lower stories had little windows, which meant that most of the first and second floor was pitch black, a fact that creeped Kagome out to no end. Clenching both her eyes and fists shut, she took one deep breath before forcing her eyes open and bolting inside, the metal doors clanging shut behind her. Swallowing down a squeal of fear she sprinted down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, down another corridor and up yet another flight of stairs. Breathing heavily, she paused to catch her breath on the last step, before entering the considerably lighter corridor.

"Hello?" She called, voice echoing off the gray walls, "Is any body here? Hello? Colonel Pickle?"

Instinctively hugging her binders closer, she crept down the hall and turned left into a room she knew the homeless man favored sleeping in ever since she had brought some Windex one day and swiped the grime off the windows, allowing natural light to filter through. Today, though, she brought something for his stomach rather than his home. Pulling out the Snicker bar tucked in her pocket, she flopped down onto the moldy mattress to wait for Colonel Pickle to arrive; he was probably on the fourth story. She had tried following him up there once, but he had given her a toothless, apologetic smile before silently closing the door in her face. From then on, whenever he began shuffling towards the flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor, she took it as her cue to leave.

Her thoughts were was interrupted by the echoing slap of bare feet against the hardwood floor down the hall. Relieved that she didn't have to wait much longer (it was getting dark) Kagome sat up straighter, unwrapped her snicker bar and held it flat on her two palms, as if she was presenting some precious jewel she had long quested for instead of a cheap chocolate bar she had bought at school during lunch.

There was a moment of confusion in which the sound of footsteps abruptly halted, and there was the sound of someone sniffing, but then HE came into view, gluing Kagome to her spot.

Her mind blankly took in the baggy, black pants, the red sweatshirt and the silvery hair (mussed in the front and smooth in the back) without any particularly mind-boggling observations, but when she got past the suspiciously flashing golden eyes and up to the trademark beanie she made an interesting discovery: there were the doggy ears on top of his head, but there was no beanie.

Following her gaze, Inu Yasha froze, the ears she was openly bawking at swiveling back and forth. Then, before she could scream, she was suddenly being pinned up against the wall by her throat looking down, wide-eyed, into Inu Yasha's angry face, his fierce gold eyes threatening to burn her with their intense display of anger, lonliness and maybe even the slightest hint of sadness.

'I've never seen such beautiful eyes...'

"If you tell anyone about what you've seen here," he snarled, cutting off her thoughts, "I will fucking kill you."

A/N: Ugh, that chapter took me sooo long to write. I actually finished it a week earlier but it just was so boooring and so icky sounding that I re-wrote it a bagizillion times. Hope you liked it, though, and I'm actually responding to reviews! *Gasp* Claps for Dani for getting off her lazy butt and actually responding to all those loverly reviewer people...

Silver Teardrops- You almost forgot my story?! Whew, it's a good thing I posted this chapter then huh? ^_^

thegymrat- Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. Kewliobeens pen name, by the way. For a while I've been pronouncing the -g in it like I would in the word game...wow, yes, the Qween has her moments of stupidity too...

Blair- With your C and my B in genetics, we can form a anti-genetics alliance! Woohoo!

squeakyinuears- Alas, my four day weekend passed rather quickly...but now I'm on thanksgiving break! Of course, I can't really flaunt that around now since everyone is on it (or at least, I hope they are). Squeakity, squeakers, squeaky, squeaken...I love that movie! After I saw that I tried for days to get my voice like the evil lady's when she turned into a cat (I forgot her name), but eventually I stopped because my family was starting to look at me weird...

Siluial- Hey, I had a squeaky chair battle with my friend too! That's actually what "inspired" me to chuck that little scene into the chapter. Of course, my friend didn't look like Inu Yasha either....darn.

wackoramoco87- Yeah, the j-dude in the last chapter is actually gay in the Inu Yasha series. I haven't seen many of the IY episodes though; I'm basing my stuff more on the manga. But any way, in the next chapter I'm going to find a way to tuck in a small summary of the movie Casablanca so you and a whole bunch of other people who don't know about it aren't left in the dark.

Fairyangel24 and gala- Here's your next chapter! All fresh and warm from the oven...

Three-Letter-Word- Isn't Casablanca such an awesome movie? Some of my friends think it's a boring movie, but with someone like Bogart in it, I can't see where they're coming from.

So cha, thank you all for reviewing my baby and keep'em coming! ^_~