Ikarishipping Scene #5: The Choice

Told from Hikari's point of view, she experiences her lover, Shinji, and his last few minutes of life. She tries to make it the greatest moments in his rather short life, by taking away a portion of his incessant pain.

As I stood in the beat down shack listening to the rain pitter-patter on the roof, I winced every thirty seconds from the various pains in my body.

I didn't bother finding my way out, hoping that they'd find me and bring me back home, to sit by the fireplace and slurp tea that was a bit too strong for everyone. Yet no one made a remark, not wanting to change the atmosphere the way it was, that was where my home was.

I stood in the lab room, leaning up against a platinum examination table with my arms crossed against my chest. I watched blood take a journey down my shirt onto my belly from my wounded shoulder.

My shirt was torn from the bottom to just where my bust began, my own blood and the blood of the killer was splattered on my skirt and winter boots. My cap was gone, leaving a frizz of wet tangled hair atop my head. And to some girls' relief, a single nail wasn't touched.

I didn't notice him until he stumbled in the room, his hand clutching his chest, a bloody mass all over it. I felt my eyes widen as he made his way over to me, in as much pain as any person could get.

He roughly leaned up against the examination table and stared at me blankly, pain and suffering in his eyes. I felt the tears escape from my eyes as I stared back, feeling his soft skin with my fingertips. He closed his eyes and sank down on to the floor, his fist still clutched against his chest, the blood red color growing deeper.

I got down on my knees and got as close to him as possible, still touching his face with my fingertips. He opened his eyes with a faraway look in them. He slowly lifted up his hand, blood covering it. I accepted it with my hand, and clenched them gently, letting the blood come onto it freely.

"Tell me where it hurts, and I promise… I'll make it better." I whispered to him.

He pointed to his chest instantaneously, and I puckered my lips against the bloody wound, the blood covering my lips. The texture made bile come into my throat, but I swallowed it back. It was a rough texture, and felt like a big scab. When I looked back up at him, I didn't wipe the blood off. He pointed to the side of his neck, and I obeyed, pressing my lips gently against the side of his neck, parting them slightly every other second. I lifted my head up so our foreheads were touching, leaving a red spot on his neck. With the last bit of energy he had, he pointed to his lips, his eyes half closed.

I nodded, and eagerly yet sensually conjoined our lips, both of us tasting his blood. His hand left the wound in his chest, and met the side of my face stroking it so gently I almost didn't realize it. I felt him fading away as his eagerness and lip movements slowed. His hands dropped to his sides, and when I let go, he fell onto me motionless. I didn't feel his heart beating the slightest, letting the tears drop onto his hair I stared up at the window, the sound of the ambulances all too clear. It was sheer irony.

I finger-combed his hair, hugging his head as tightly as I could, hearing the men outside yelling to quickly move into the building. I looked down at my deceased lover, and decided to make it even better for him.

I took the gun out of his pocket, placed it against my temple, and tightened my finger against the trigger. The last sound I heard being the short abrupt sound of the bullet shooting into my brain killing it, but not my soul or love for him.

I love you Shinji.