I've wanted to do a Shiori one-shot for a while now, and I came out with this. It's kind of stupid but read it if you want.
"You're nothing but a dirty half breed!"
Half-breed. That's a word that stung at my heart for the fourteen years of my life. Even after the incident that happened six years ago, the village people still treat me as if I were nothing than a sin.
Even after I saved them from my grandfather.
"HEY! Aren't you listening, freak?"
With that slap to the face, I broke from my thoughts. The mean boy still had that evil and angry look on his face as he towered over me due to his height. His friends around him started to laugh and took the opportunity to begin their share of the bullying.
"You're so ugly! You fucking freak!" one of the boys said as he shoved me.
"You stupid half-demon!" one of the other boys shouted as he shoved me toward the first mean boy, who shoved me to the ground and threw a stone at me.
His friend joined in by picking up the surrounding stones and pelting me with them. I held in my cries for help. I didn't want to satisfy them with my painful cries. It always made things worse.
After they threw stones at me, the main boy held me down on the ground and began to repeatedly slap me.
"You're so ugly! You think you're so smart! You're nothing! Just a stupid ugly half-breed bitch! Nobody wants you here, ugly whore! Go die in a whole!"
His friends began to chant with him as he continued to slap me.
All the insults came down at me worse than the stones they threw at me. Everything they did hurt, but the insults were worse than anything they could do to me with their hands. And after all the things they have told me over the years, I truly believed it.
After a while, they soon got bored and left, leaving me lying on the beach in pain. I laid there, none of the villagers stopping to make sure I was alright, of course. They never did. The villagers could care less if I were to die on the beach. They wouldn't care. On the contrary, they would probably celebrate or act as if I never existed. And thinking of them, it reminded me of six years ago, when that half-demon man came to the village and killed my evil grandfather. He was my hero in a way.
If only I could see him again. So I could thank him properly.
"Hey, are you ok?"
Before my eyes, I saw a man with long white hair, dog ears, and amber eyes. He was a spitting image of my hero. He WAS my hero, coming to save me again.
"I'm sorry, Shiori. I should have got here sooner," he told me, helping me up off the ground.
Without any hesitation, I hugged him, not ever thinking of letting my hero go.
I don't own Shiori or Inuyasha.
Please r&r, but no flame. Constructive Criticism only.