Erm, something that came to me at six in the morning. Short, kinda sweet. If you don't like the characters or the pairing, don't read.
Disclaimer: Inuyasha, Kikyo- not mine.
...OOO...
She wandered away from her teachers to where the children were, and watched them with dull earthen eyes.
Three boys were taunting another one- younger, in a red suit. They yanked at his unruly hair- the color of dull platinum- while tossing from one to another a small ball.
"HEY!" the boy in red protested angrily, trying desperately to regain possession of the ball, his dog-like ears twitching furiously. "That's mine!"
"Shut up, you filthy half-breed," the one with the ball retorted and tossed it to his laughing friends, tripping him as he reached for it. They laughed some more.
"GIVE IT BACK!" he demanded angrily, tackling the one who had caught it.
The ball sailed through the air, forgotten, as the other two pulled him back and shoved him to the ground, kicking him mercilessly.
It rolled to her feet.
"Tell me."
The cool, calm voice stayed the beating as the three tormentors turned to stare at the intruder. Unable to help himself, he turned too.
It was a girl who could not have been more than a year or so older than himself, but she bore the qualities and characteristics of an adult, the way she stood, tall and straight, without doubt or hesitation, and they froze at her commanding stare. He had seen her earlier in the courtyard accompanying the visiting priests, and he couldn't help but stare at her, fascinated, but she had merely returned his stare with a casual glance that lasted not even a second.
"Tell me," she repeated. "Do you believe yourselves to be strong because three of you can beat a child younger than yourselves?" Her voice did not convey anger, did not convey mercy or sorrow, in fact it might have been a totally indifferent question were it not for the unmistakable condescension it carried in its subtle undertones.
The three older boys disentangled themselves from him to stand their full height, their sparking eyes boring into hers. She stared back in challenging placidity. Ultimately it was they who averted their defeated glares, muttering under their breaths as they stalked off.
Bending down gracefully, she picked up the ball and walked it over to him, but she said nothing, watching him pick himself up.
"Feh," he huffed. "I coulda been fine without your help."
Shrugging complacently, she replied, "I don't doubt it."
He stared at her; she stared back.
They were surprised at what they saw- eyes that didn't want to be lonely but were; eyes that convinced themselves they needed no one, that they liked the loneliness; eyes that couldn't quite believe it.
He knew that feeling; she did too.
"Here," she said, handing him the ball.
His eyes shifted from her, to the ball, then back to her.
But before he could respond, a man called harshly, "Kikyo, get away from him. We're leaving."
Glancing at him one more time, she gave him a wan smile. Then she turned, and they left.
What else could she do but depart? What else could he do but watch?
The sun set and rose again. The seasons came and went. One by one, the days, the weeks, the months, and the years faded as life continued endless, unchanging, never the same.
And then they were nothing more than a fragment of a memory long forgotten.