Remember childhood, when everything was always magical? So big compared to you, it seemed that the world of grown-ups was always so hard to comprehend. Love meant friends and grandparents. Finances were the milk money jingling in your pocket, making music with every step. Life was always so simple. Say please and thank you, avoid cooties, and everything would turn out fine. The world would only completely come into perspective when you were old enough to watch late-night television. But sometimes, lessons can only be learned as a child…

It was an average day at the kindergarten center. Snacks, songs, sleep. Make-believe during playtime, then the bus ride home, where you got to sit with the wise. The elite. The big kids. Although their strange behavior and 'red spots' were a bit odd, they were always the smartest, much more so than mommy or daddy. Only until you were one of them could you be anything but a child, foolish and unknowing.

"Kagome's a big fat fatty-head!" a shrill voice broke the air as the make-believe was being put to rest. Reality came back as we were told to pack our book bags.

Tears flooded my eyes and my lip trembled. It was no sin to cry then, especially when you'd just been called a big fat fatty-head. I wiped furiously at my tears as I retrieved my jacket from my cubbyhole.

"Dummy…I am not a fatty-head…" I sniveled to myself. My incoherent muttering never ceased, even as I plopped down into a bus seat.

"Are you okay?" a tiny voice asked. I kept my eyes downcast, staring at my shoes and kicking the seat in front of me. I became entranced with the flashing pink lights above the soles. I kicked, they flashed. Kick, flash. Kick kick. Flash flash.

I was so preoccupied with the 'magic shoes' that I failed to notice the slight shift of the seat as the person whom the voice belonged to plopped down beside me to join in the staring.

"I like your shoes." The voice piped. I finally looked up to be greeted with the most intense amber eyes I had ever seen. A silver mop of hair poked out from a red cap, framing a round, tanned face.

"Thanks. I like yours too." I voiced as I eyed his red power-ranger sneakers.

He introduced himself as Inuyasha, and I introduced myself as well. We chattered on and on about everything from school to Jell-O. We were automatically friends, but I couldn't quite understand the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

The topic somehow came to why I was crying, and the fluttering stopped. My eyes began to water again as I retold the tale, my lip quivering toward the end. A tear sped unintentionally down my cheek, but a warm hand quickly brushed it away. I looked up to see those intense eyes focused on mine, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Don't cry." He said as he grabbed my hand. "You're not a fatty-head. He was just a meanie."

The fluttering returned with a vengeance.

"Thanks" I said, and smiled. He blushed and turned away, but squeezed my hand a little tighter, all thoughts of cooties thrown out the window.

TEN YEARS LATER

"FINE! BE THAT WAY, BITCH!" he shouted at me. Another 'relationship' ended, all due to my nerdiness. I sighed and made my way toward a bench.

All throughout my short high school years, I had been teased relentlessly for being a geek. Marching band fanatic, total otaku, and a hunger for RPG games that could never be satisfied. Numerous break-ups with guys I had been set up with by so-called 'friends' had ended rather abruptly due to my low social status. Nearly every single one of them had attempted to transform me into some prissy little cheerleader snob, but not one had succeeded. I sighed once again. Maybe I was just meant to be alone….

"Mind if I join ya?" a familiar voice asked. I grinned and stretched myself across the bench.

"I dunno, there's not much room here." I joked. He chuckled and plopped down, giving me barely any time to retract my legs from the horrible fate of being crushed by his butt.

"'Nother one gone, eh?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Inuyasha had matured over the years, as could be expected of any six year old. Now a good six inches taller than me, he was a total pretty boy. His hair was still a mop, though now it was a little shorter than mine. His tiny-whiny voice had developed into a low rumble, which could be either intimidating or soothing, depending on the circumstance. He still had a fixation with old martial arts kiddie shows though, the proof shown by his red Ninja Turtles t-shirt. His eyes were still as captivating as ever, I realized, as I looked over at him…

And so the stomach butterflies did a little dance.

"Yep." I sighed. I seem to be doing a lot of that today. "Maybe I'm just better off alone. Didn't like guys much, anyway." I laughed, humorlessly.

"Nah, don't say that. You'll find someone as nerdy as you." He chuckled. I smacked him on the arm and laughed. "Abusive, aren't we?"

"You know it." I laughed. Somehow during our abusive banter, our fingers had intertwined. He always seemed to make me feel better, even with the stomach butterflies he seemed to always bring with him.

"But trust me, there's someone there. Maybe closer than you think." He said.

"Trying to say somethin' there, Yasha?" I joked. A slight blush creeped onto his features, making me laugh harder.

"No, just sayin…" he muttered. I chuckled once again at his shyness.

"I know, I know. Thanks for cheering me up." I smiled. He blushed even harder, but squeezed my hand anyway.

'Some things never change,' I thought…

Though, its not like I want them to…