The school halls were a bustle of activity as students dodged and twisted around other students to get to their first class before that inevitable bell decided their fate of being on time or getting a tardy.

Tan, gray, and other boring neutral colored metal adorned the walls, demons and humans alike huddled around the lockers conversing with the awful rumors of who's dating who and other meaning less gossip.

Only one locker stuck out like a sore thumb, so covered with tape of past crude notes and squiggles of vulgar names in offensive black marker, no one could miss it for what it was.

The Outsider's Locker

The underdog's locker, the wussie's locker, the school meat's locker….and this year the stupid, pathetic, filthy, freakish, and silent hanyou's locker.

It was Inuyasha's locker.

Inuyasha ignored the writing that cruelly decorated the cool metal and began to put in his combination with rough, callused, and clawed fingers. The words had already been burned into his brain, there was no use to read them again, and if there was any new additions, he would hear them shouting at him or thrown at him in crumpled notes sometime in the 7 long period day.

Welcome to his life.

Even though the world was, in a polite and hopeful word, peaceful what with the treaty on demons and humans living with each other in equal harmony, those words didn't mean anything to the half-demon.

Why? Because of those other two words….half-demon….half-human….hanyou. The freak, the filth, the fresh meat, the beast, the sin, blah blah blah yattayatta, no matter how equal and peaceful the world was, he would forever be shunned.

You'd think being both would have him be the most popular dude in school, friends with both sides of the force. But no, he was hated by demons, beaten and scorned; and also hated by humans, feared and insulted.

The new law and acceptance of intermingling the two species together had only been in affect for about a decade or so, and since Inuyasha was about 16 that meant his parents had…created him six years before the law had passed.

His parents had done the most despicable and dishonorable thing the world could ever speak of.

His father had seduced and raped his poor mother.

His mother had ensnared his father in some sort of evil, miko magic.

Either way, either view, Inuyasha was the disgusting and sinful spawn of his parents. And they were killed for doing such a thing, on having him and protecting him before the law had even been thought up. He was left alone to deal with the world's awful and cruel beatings, now protected by the law.

They couldn't kill him, no one could keep him from coming to school, no one could keep him from doing whatever the hell he wanted just like the other free and 'equal people' of the world.

But that didn't mean they couldn't try to make his life a living hell.

He was the outsider, not listened to, not wanted to be heard or seen, he floated through life as silent as a gentle breeze.

He had given up, or accepted, the fact that he was alone.

He would not scream or try to dissuade the harsh thrashing of angry demons, or the fearful humans who helped them. He would not speak up on what really happened, on why he had bruises or ugly wounds.

No one would listen, no one would believe him, he would be punished if he uttered a single plea or tattle.

So he would be silent and mute.

This was Inuyasha's life.

Opening the locker door, he placed his old tattered book bag, which had seen a better day, and grabbed his binder; being sure to have his precious journal, his only means of sanity, tucked protectively in the safety of his lean, muscled arms.

The sour smell of rotting lunches, once used as a prank, and musty dust penetrated his nose; scrunching in disgust he grabbed his science textbook. Closing the door, the small click echoing in his puppy ears, Inuyasha began to turn but stopped unfortunately by the looming figure of a bull youkai.

Inuyasha glared at the huge feet, he had hoped that perhaps he could have made it to at least 1st period without a bullying, but of course prayers were never answered to a hanyou, were they?

"Well, well, well, you filthy half-scum, happy Monday. We sure missed playing with ya over that long weekend." Inuyasha cringed at the deep, snorty grunt of the foul demon, the disgusting stench of sweat and raw meat emanating up to his keen nose, making him slightly dizzy.

He felt the usual boil of his demon blood, to protect himself, to fight, to kill…taking a deep breath and tightening his hold on his belongings, Inuyasha began to ease his mind away from the matter at hand. He must not lose control.

The hush of the halls added to the excitement and slight terror as the bull youkai's passé began to scuffle behind their leader. Knuckles cracking, snouts snorting, and the slow ticking of the hallway clock added to the tension.

Pain was coming, it was inevitable and he knew it, so little by little Inuyasha began to think upon other things, sinking his thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind, seeking shelter from the harsh beating soon to come.

But as the youkai began to descend his fist possibly towards Inuyasha's face, the bell had rung.

It was a rule; no fights could be fought after the bell, after that, teachers could very easily come and stop them.

Inuyasha blew out a breath, he didn't even know he was holding, as the demon grumbled and students began to dash to their classrooms.

"You got lucky this time, pathetic half-breed, but we'll see you later." Inuyasha bit back a growl and tried his best not to lift his head and glare at the bastards. He waited till the sounds of their footsteps had receded before lifting his head and rolling his shoulders. After he was sure no one was around and his muscles were relieved from the morning soreness and stress, Inuyasha began his way down the hall in long, brisk strides.

Turning the corner, a gravely voice echoed in the halls and made Inuyasha drop his things in a clatter to cover his sensitive ears.

"Inuyasha Takahashi to the office, please, Inuyasha Takahashi."

Great, what could I have possibly done wrong? Groaning and rubbing his temples with one hand, Inuyasha picked up his things. His poor, little ears still ringing from that damn, blasted intercom; the hanyou began his way to the office.

An unusual but so far considered lucky start to his day.

Little did he know that this particular trip to the office would mark his life for a change to the unusual from there on.