Silly little one shot, might make a sequel if I get enough reviews telling me to write one. Anyway, I've got no idea where this came from. I couldn't sleep last night and so I just started writing. Weird, eh? Anyway, I don't own Inuyasha, though I wish I did (evil grin).

Silent Conversation

It had become habitual for her, ever since she started attending college, to go to the library, every afternoon, even on the weekends, and just sit and listen to the people there. She would go in there, sit in the corner at one of the numerous wooden tables by herself, and just observe the people who came in; the druggies, the sex addicts, the bookworms, the workaholics, the bums, the sleepers, the last-minute essay-ers, and her personal favorite, the masturbators.

The library was used more for its spacious, secluded areas, then for actual school work. It was interesting to listen to the conversations that occurred. You could learn so much about people if you just sat and listened; the break-ups, who was sleeping with who, who was dating who, who was friends with who, what their plans were for the next week, their class schedule.

But today, her habitual day was ruined as someone sat across from her at her table. She turned to him to see him looking at her. The first thing she noticed were the molten golden globes staring into her dark blue ones. The second thing was the odd silver hair that accompanied this man. The third was the cocky smirk that he directed at her.

She raised a brow at him and watched as his smirk grew before she turned back to her people watching. The silence between them continued and she all but forgot about him as she stared out at the other occupants of the library.

The silence was broken, however, with a shuffling of paper from across from and something poking her arm. She looked down at the table to see a piece of paper in front of her. She looked up at the man in front of her to see he was still smirking at her. He gestured towards the paper and she looked down. Written on the paper in red, scwriggly, masculine scrawl was:

So, you come here often?

She smiled at the cheesiness of the line and reached down into her bag, felt around until she found something, and pulled it out. It was her favorite blue ball-point pen. She quickly wrote back in her curvy, bubbly, feminine script:

Yes, actually, and that was the cheesiest come on ever…written…

She quickly pushed it back over to him and watched him read what she'd written and smile. His smile seemed radiant and she felt herself grow warm at the sight of it. She watched as he wrote a response to her note and passed the paper back over to her.

I guess it was pretty cheesy, but just how many girls so you think are written a pick up line?

Not many, I'm sure, she wrote, smiling in spite of herself.

So, what, are you here everyday? You don't seem to have too much to do, so, what do you do?

I people watch.

People watch?

Yeah, I come in here to observe people; they're utterly fascinating!

How so?

You see that guy over there? The one with the red cap, the black backpack, and the three books in front of him?


Well, his name is Adam Scott. He's from America. He's mostly of an Irish heritage, he comes in here at around 4:30 everyday, just before his Psych class to either study or write an essay. He's had at least three girlfriends in the last two months and he occasionally goes to one of the more secluded parts of the library to jack off.

The man snorted after reading her answer. His note came not a second later, accompanied by a raised brow.

How do you know that last bit?

Because he comes back with a flushed and relieved look on his face.

She watched his shoulders shake with his silent laughter.

I never did catch your name.

That's because I didn't give it to you.

Would you care to tell me?

Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.

She watched the smirk grow on his face as he scribbled down his reply.

Takahashi. Inuyasha Takahashi.

Kagome Higurashi. It's a pleasure to meet you Inuyasha. But just answer me one thing. Are you deaf?

A look of surprise came over his face, followed by apprehension as he read her note.

Yes, I am, how did you know?

I didn't, I just guessed.

She saw him smile at that.


Not really, but kinda. You didn't speak to me right away when you first sat down and the not passing helped.

I guess that's what you get for watching people all the time, eh?

Guess so.

Does it bother you?

She noticed his look of worry as he wrote his note.

No, not at all.

She watched his apprehension melt into joy.

So what do you like?


She watched him raise an eyebrow.


Yeah, can I see one of yours?

He read the note before putting his left hand out to her, palm up. She grabbed it gently with both of hers and flipped it over. She bent his middle finger at the knuckle and watched at the knuckle bulged and the bone become more prominent under the skin, running a thing line almost to his wrist. She flipped it back over and traced the creases in his palm before releasing it.

What's so fascinating about hands?

I love to watch the bones move under the skin when the fingers are flexed.

That's odd.

I'm an odd person.

She sent her note with a shrug.

Indeed you are.

What about you? What do you like?


Really?! I've always wanted to learn how to ride one!

Well, would you like to take a ride with me and go get some dinner?

You're asking me on a date?


Then I'd love to, because if you'd answered with a no, I'd've had to whack you upside the head.

She watched as he smiled before picking up the paper, folding it and sticking it in his pocket as he stood. She stood with him and together they made their way out of the library. Tentatively, she put her hand in his and played with the skin on the back of his hand with her thumb. He squeezed it in response and that ended their silent conversation.

Read and review! I really don't care if you say that you didn't like it, but just keep your criticism to a minimum, 'kay? Thankies!