Ikarishipping Scene: The Girl in the Forest
He is known as "one tough badass" in the local public school he attended.
Underneath that tough exterior was a lonely shadowed teenager. He was suffering from problems, emotional problems. Every night he'd cut one slit in his wrist deeper and deeper, slowly examining the bright red liquid ooze out of it. He'd squeeze his arm tighter so it came out in larger blobs; it was entertaining to him for some reason. He had a little brother, who was beyond confused by his actions. His parents could care less about what he was doing nowadays. The only time they saw him was across from the dinner table.
He pushed his long, spiked hair out of his face, slightly tugging at his lip ring. He tasted his blood, but he shrugged off the pain he considered as mediocre.
The street he walked on was empty. The sky was a malicious gray ongoing black, the trees dark as well. Traces of rain were visible along the black pavement, the rows of trees secluding him damp with a darker tone. The setting relaxed him. For not even a bird chirped. It was dead silent, perfectly fitting his preference.
He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, hanging his head lower and lower, thinking about how he shouldn't even be living. He had a pocketknife in his grasp right then and there. He could've done it quick right there.
He concurred to his mental decision, and went deep within the forest, so no one could hear his scream of pain. He zigzagged throughout redwoods and oak trees taking one last look at all the things that would surround him during his last moments of living. He pulled his sweatshirt sleeve back and looked at the scar that formed. Rust-colored streaks ran down his forearm, the slit mark a bit deeper red. He tightened his fist from the sight of it, baring his teeth in anger and shame of himself. He quickly covered the evidence, and continued walking through the plush grass.
It seemed to him that everything was darker and depressing at that moment. It was rather ironic to him too, but relaxing; dark and quiet was relaxing to him.
He stopped at a rather random spot, and slowly removed the pocketknife from his sport jacket pocket. He held it at eye-level, and slowly raised the blade up so it faced him. It gleamed teasingly at him, hoping to soon be covered in his blood. Since it was used to being covered in his blood anway. He stared at it blankly for the next ten tense seconds, not a second thought about his choice coming into his mind.
When he raised the knife to glow in the shadowed sun, he heard something come from a not too distant bush. It sounded to him as if someone took a deep breath after holding their breath underwater.
He eyed the bush he suspected the sudden sound came from, and inched over to it, his hands stretched out toward it in case something inhuman or repulsive popped out. Then he heard another sound, except it didn't sound like a deep breath… it sounded like whimpering.
A sad, mournful whimpering it was. Whoever made that sound out of their throat was truly in a great state of pain or mental suffering. He slowly pushed away the damp brush and collection of leaves and twigs; he flinched back and gasped.
A girl lied on her side, maybe fifteen, a year younger than him, her jeans pulled down to her ankles, her shirt completely ripped off. Dry blood streaks were on her inner thighs down to her kneecaps. Red and blue bruises were on her face, her whole body damp and trembling as the cold winds of autumn blew past. When she opened her eyes to look up at him, they were glazed over.
He couldn't respond.
"Please…" She said in a raspy voice. "You need to…" She coughed. "You need to help me… He's coming back… He's coming back… coming back… to get me…" She leaned back against the dirt and closed her eyes.
"I…" He rushed over to her other side. "What happened?"
"I… I was just walking… Please, help me… I need to get out of here…"
He kneeled down beside her. "Right! …Uh… can you stand?"
She held her arms up, but couldn't even find the strength to get to her feet; it was painful for him to watch her.
"Here… let me help you…" He gripped her wrists, and slowly pulled her up; she smiled thankfully, but weakly at the same time. When she bent over, she wallowed out in pain, feeling the pain in her thighs once more, the flashbacks coming back to her. "He's going to get me again… he's coming back… please, please help me…"
"Believe me, I'm trying my best."
He was surprised by his actions. He free willingly admitted to himself that he was a loner, someone who was anti-social. He would never even think of accomplishing community service when his therapist recommended it to him.
His therapist happens to be very touchy, and somewhat of a moron in his eyes.
Though he felt the sudden urge to help this girl, he didn't know how to accomplish the task; especially when she couldn't bend over without feeling any pain.
Her eyesight was blurry from the head trauma she had just recently gone through, she looked deep within this stranger's eyes, and saw that he was trying his best to help her. It brought hope into her heart and mind, not an emotion a teenager who was the complete opposite of self-righteous, such as herself, would feel. She felt an annoying yet painful throbbing in her inner thighs, her face feeling bloated on one side while the other was normal size.
She lost her balance and fell onto him, her face buried in his broad chest.
"I'm sorry…" She stood up straight but cried out in pain again; she started sobbing.
He wanted to relinquish on her, but he kept his head up high. He didn't know what was going on with himself, but he wanted to help this girl all he could.
"SSH… just calm down, alright? If this guy who attacked you is still in this forest, he might hear you… just try to calm down." He attempted to comfort.
She tensed herself, and took a deep breath. She looked down at her feet, and realized that her jeans were around her ankles, ripped and torn; when her face turned red, his did also.
He covered his eyes. "S-sorry… sorry… I forgot that your pants were—"
"No, it's alright… my shirt can cover myself." She gingerly stepped out of the jeans, not spreading her legs too wide.
He took his sweatshirt off, exposing his ripped and torn white skull t-shirt. "Here, I'm gonna feel awkward knowing your pants are off."
She looked up at him, since he was nearly six inches taller than her, while taking the sweatshirt. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Now… can you walk?"
"I'll try…"
She started walking forward in tiny steps as if she were a gymnast on the balance beam. When she crossed one of her long legs over the other, she folded over and softly cried out. He didn't know what to do next. If she couldn't walk… was he supposed to drag her out? Make her crawl from a leash… or just leave her there for whoever it was to come back?
"I don't know what to do." He admitted to her.
"Please… please you need to help me. He told me he was coming back! He—" She coughed. "–He's coming back to do the same thing again… don't leave me here to die… my parents will never live to know I'm dead!"
Then he thought of something. It was completely irrational to him, unethical, and inappropriate in some ways. It might even hurt this poor girl.
"Alright…" He started. "I might know a way to get you out of here…" He stretched his arms out, flexing his rather large muscles out and in. "…It might hurt you though."
He quickly grabbed her arm as she was about to topple over again.
"Anything… anything to get me out of here… please…" She desperately pleaded.
"Alright… don't be frightened, but I have to do this."
He felt awkward and tense accomplishing this task, but he did it. He pulled her into something related to a hug, and slowly lifted up her right leg, gently followed by her other. Her legs were very long, he observed, very long and glossy. His left arm supported her back, gripping where her forearm folded into her elbow, his other hand cupped neatly around her upper leg. Her arm formed a right angle, her fingers stretching out as if twigs on a tall tree. He was holding her as if she were a small child.
"Just… try to… relax." He said, thinking up that phrase in his head right there.
Instead of sitting straight up in his hold, feeling the pains in her inner thighs overt, she leaned the side of her head against his shoulder, moving her left leg somewhat away from her right. Her eyes closed halfway as he slowly started walking.
"My name is Hikari…" She said to him when he began seeing the road he had just walked on. "What would yours be?"
"It's Shinji." He stated quickly, not looking down at her.
She looked up at him though, observing his strange features.
"What happened to you?" He suddenly asked her.
She looked down at the ground, biting the tip of her finger the scene playing over and over again. "I… I was raped… by my biology teacher."
He looked down at her as she awkwardly looked back up at him.
That was when the rain started. It came suddenly yet irate. It beat down on his back as if dull needles. His hair fell in his face, not concealing his black eyes from her. She huddled closer to him, shivering once or twice because of the chill each raindrop possessed when it touched her bare legs.
He walked down the street, his high tops splashing into puddles, diminishing the water from the hole it once laid in. She sighed into his shoulder, gripping his other loosely with her hand.
"I was actually there for tutoring…" She spoke up. "He said that we should take a look at the trees, and see if one was chopped down, the age of it being seen by the rings in its stump, y'know?"
He nodded twice.
"We were walking in the forest… then he pushed me against a tree… and it… it was horror Shinji. A complete horror, it was like feeling a Stephen King novel when that man touched you."
He nodded twice once more. "I'm sorry…I'm not hurting you now, am I?"
"No… no, I feel absolutely fine, thank you."
He looked forward again, shaking the hair that had fallen in his face, spraying her with rain drops. "So where do you live?"
"Forty-two Honey Wood Street… it's not too far from here, I think."
He had no idea where forty-two-whatever was, but he followed his instinct, which was to keep walking until he found a street, walk down that street, and see if she would point out a certain house she declared as hers. Then he could go back to his room and reminiscent on what had just happened to him.
His hair fell into her face, tickling her cheeks with their spiked edges. Her face fell into his neck, him feeling her breathe lightly against him. Her breaths were abnormally light, as if she was fading away.
"I don't know if this is the right way…" She said glancing at the road he was walking upon.
He angrily sighed; his instinct, for once, did not help him at all. She gripped his other shoulder for support as he looked up at the sky, blinking harshly whenever a raindrop would fall on or near his eyes. Her weight began to overcome him, even though she was a delicate little thing. He shifted her more sturdily in his hold, not seeming to care if he was gentle or not. He even started thinking to just leave her there right in the streets.
But he didn't, he started looking around, barely able to read the street signs. As he began to panic, she went limp in his hands, leaning against him, all her faith in him. He began to panic even more.
"Hikari, I…" He paused, seeing her desperate blue eyes through his hair strands and blurred eyes. He closed his eyes and bared his teeth; she widened her eyes, her mouth ajar.
He dropped her onto the sidewalk from a height that affected her bruises even more. She cried out as he did so, looking up at him with disbelief.
He clenched his fists as he looked down at her. "I can't help you… I can't."
With one last look at her betrayed face, he walked away from her, hands leisurely in pockets. She propped herself up on her elbow, holding a clenched fist up to her bleeding lip, her eyes wide with surprise…and smitten.
She ignored the pain as much as she could, although it was incredibly strenuous. She sat up on her knees for awhile, watching him walk farther and farther away from her. She smacked her hands against the pavement, and pushed herself up to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself, the sweatshirt he provided her with now drenched. Her blue hair stuck to the sweatshirt and her face, her bangs falling in her face.
She knew she couldn't run, that was far beyond her limit. She tenderly walked on her tiptoes, spreading her legs wide apart so they wouldn't rub up against her inner thighs. Seeing his dark tall shadow diminish against the horizon, she couldn't take it anymore.
She began bolting, his silhouette beginning to become clearer.
She threw her fists up into the air as she screamed out to him. "Wait! Please!"
He stopped, but didn't turn around when they were about ten feet away from each other.
"I need your help… please, I'll find the street. You can drag me for all I care… please, help me!" She toppled onto her knees.
She looked down at her hands against the black wet pavement, observing the raindrops that fell heavily upon the street.
He finally turned around, and saw her on her knees, her eyes not facing him. The fact that she was violated became obvious in his head once more. She was raped by her own teacher for God's sakes! She looked like a decent girl, the girl in the class that the teacher would expect good grades from. But no… that teacher expected something else from her. To distract himself from the scene, he shook his hair out of his face, eying her on the ground, shaking.
She slowly looked up at him from the ground, on hands and knees. Her eyes trembled as tears formed, her teeth bared in a disbelieving and melancholy matter. She abruptly clenched her fists together, scraping her knuckles against the hard pavement.
Then their eyes met. Her sad eyes usurped over his dark shape of mind. He raised his eyebrows with concern. He quickly relaxed them into their threatening manner as she continued to look deep within his eyes, him doing the same to her. He rubbed the raindrops out of his eyes and face so he wouldn't be sucked into her blue angel eyes.
Then he saw the bright light. It wasn't an extinct, it was reality; a car was coming straight down the street. The wind-shield wipers were off, and the driver was practically winging it. He obviously didn't know a violated teenage girl was lying on the ground in front of him.
He literally bolted toward her. "Look out!" He yelled out tersely. She widened her eyes at him and turned around to be blinded by the headlights of the Sudan. He didn't have a choice. He pushed her out of the way, making sure he got out of the way of the speeding car also. They both shut their eyes tight, thinking that their death was soon to come.
They both heard the sound of a rushing car become distant, and then they could only hear the rain beating down against them. The streetlights plus each glittering rain drop seemed to cause a glow off the both of them, and it was the color of the sun when it first started to set each evening.
When she opened her eyes, she saw his face close to hers, him protectively hovering over her, knowing that she could've seen St. Peter soon. She breathed heavily staring up at his blank disbelieving face. He was completely unaware of what had just happened.
She no longer felt pain from her experience in the woods. She felt warmth, staring into his endless, depressed eyes. She felt her face turn red from the minute that had gone by; his did too. Her back arched uncomfortably against the pavement, so she shifted up carefully, him sitting back on his heels.
With a sudden rush, she abruptly wrapped her arms around him and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Thank you… thank you," She softly spoke to him, "you are truly an angel."
He glanced at the back of her head, astonished by the words she spoke. Perhaps he did have a purpose in the world. What had happened in the hour he had experienced with her was a life-changing event. He felt as if he was in a Hallmark Channel movie it was all so unethical.
She let go of him, and faced him with an appreciative smile for what he had done to help her. However, it diminished when she saw the look on his face. He looked dumbfounded by her actions, and he looked sort of bored. She couldn't blame him however, for he had carried her away from the man that almost killed her, and saved her life once more from a speeding car. He probably had just about enough of her.
But that was the complete opposite of what he was feeling. He felt a bit of security with her after she had hugged him graciously for saving her life twice. He couldn't describe it, but he felt this feeling where his chest was sore, and he couldn't speak to her. His hands trembled, and chilled sweat beads slowly ran down the back of his neck.
The rain continued to soak them. He held out his arm to help her up, but she shook her head from side to side, a sparkle in her eyes. His mouth was ajar just a bit from confusion; a smile formed on her face.
She didn't hesitate when she gently laid her hands on the side of his face, stroking his wet soft skin. Her smile was gone, replaced by intrigue. He carefully watched and felt her actions. Somewhat quickly she conjoined their wet lips together smoothing her fingers out along the sides of his face. His eyes widened.
He had never felt the sensation before. That same indecipherable feeling came back but pulsed harder through him, making his body shake, not just the cold atmosphere around them. He could actually feel her lips puckered up against his lightly, repeating the action over and over again; it was overwhelming to him. He shivered; his lips not able to respond.
His lips then puckered up against hers, fitting perfectly. She arched her body toward his, the pains in her body replaced by warmth. Circumspectly, he gingerly placed his hands on her back, gripping her shoulder bones. She tilted her head to the left, rubbing her cheek up against his. The streetlights went off, leaving them in darkness and rain. Now from a distance you could see two dark silhouettes wrapped in each other's arms. They could both hear a distant ring in their ears, plus the pitter-patter of the rain. They both felt peaceful.
When their lips parted, their bodies didn't. He could see her angel eyes glow in the darkness. She leaned her forehead in the groove of his nose bridge and closed her eyes, him closing his eyes also.
"I think I can help you." He whispered to her.
She nodded.