Just a little vignette that raises more questions than it answers. An attempt to cram as much story as I could into as few words as possible. Two hundred even, to be precise.
I stop across the street, getting comfortable on the bench, tugging the damn hat down over my ears. I shouldn't be doing this. But I think I can be forgiven. Five hundred years is a long time to wait.
I used to visit almost every day. I stopped after her first day of junior high, when she flew down the steps, eyes sparkling, squealing about being late. She was still a child, but in that moment I saw the woman she'll become and I damn near ripped the bench out of the sidewalk restraining myself from snatching her up. So now I let myself see her twice a year: her birthday and the first day of school.
Today is an exception, however. Tomorrow is our anniversary; she'll turn fifteen, and she won't make it to school.
She walks down the steps slowly today. At the foot she pauses, looking around curiously. I hold my breath as her gaze passes over me. Don't see me, Kagome. She frowns and walks up the street, glancing back as she goes. I lift my hand in a small wave as she vanishes into the distance.
Have a good day, love. I'll see you tomorrow.