Perfect Stranger - 1/1 - Uruha/Aoi
Title: Perfect StrangerAuthor: mtf00gee
Pairing: Uruha/Aoi
Rating/Genre: R. AU, Violence, Language, Thematic Elements.
Comments: late night drabbles ~ :O
“You’re pathetic, you’re stupid, and you’ll never be anyone in life. You’re worthless.” Words, merely words, right? These words could mean nothing, they could stand for nothing, they are simply words that I’m no stranger to. I’ve always been put down, ever since I was a little kid, I don’t know what feeling loved and wanted feels like. Ever since I can remember people around me hated me, they threw me aside and ignored me.
Every night since I was 17 I’d light up a cigarette and exhale my bad thoughts away. I never let the cold and bitter words get to me, I seemed to let them go, just like everything in my life, nothing remained. Yet somehow everything managed to leave a cutting mark.
My mother passed away when I was five; I was left alone with my father and two sisters. My father was a drinker, he’d come home drunk at night and beat my sisters and me, and then I’d have to listen to him rape my oldest sister relentlessly. It hurt, it hurt me, it hurt them, and I wanted to run away, to leave everything behind. I had to be strong, especially for my youngest sister, she looked up to me, she needed me. As soon as I finished my studies, I left home, leaving her behind, something I never forgave myself for doing.
Along the way I met no one, I got nowhere, people around me didn’t have an ounce of respect for me. Guys in the city would make fun of me because sadly I was born with slightly more feminine looks than your average male, they would call me a transvestite and touch my body in repugnant ways. Just like I did my whole life, I ignored them. I ignored the teasing and remarks, but the anger building up inside me was too much for me to handle.
I began relying on drinking and felt like I was turning into my father. Whenever I looked into the mirror of the small jacked up bathroom I so called owned, I saw a different person. The innocence I once possessed had been stripped from me; all I could see was a pitiable prostitute. I thought that maybe by embracing my femininity I’d be able to get somewhere, but it got me nowhere. The cheap red lipstick and black eyeliner smeared down my face in a horrid manner, and the too tight black cocktail dress only made me feel worthless.
I had contemplated suicide on so many occasions, thinking that maybe ending my life would be the right thing to do, but I’d stop myself before I really fucked up. Ending my life wasn’t going to solve anything, what’s another story about a useless whore suicide gonna do?
On one particular night I sat outside my apartment, I had no makeup on, nothing that would have sick and abhorrent men approaching me with wallets full of cash in return of unthinkable favors. I had a lit cigarette in my mouth and an almost empty bottle of inexpensive vodka in my hand. I knew my excessive dosages of nicotine and alcohol would drive me into an early grave, this made the suicide process a little more doable and easier to live with.
As I inhaled the poisonous smoke I noticed a dark figure approaching me, I looked away but as the figure got closer my eyes were suddenly drawn to it. I could see his face now, he looked like he was up to no good so I decided to stand up and start backing away. Before I could do anything the man grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me, “Where do you think you’re going you filthy slut?” his vile breath was hot against my face, “Get the fuck off of me!” I shouted as I slammed him away, but the bastard persisted. He pulled me again, this time with more force, “What the hell did you say to me?” he snarled, suddenly I felt a horrible pain on my side, like something sharp and big had dug through my skin. He threw me on the ground and spat on my face, according to him I was dead, my body felt immobile but I could see everything around me, I could feel the cold wind on my face, the terrible pain on my side. I reached to touch the wound and felt someone grab me, instantly I thought that it would be him, but instead I heard a sweeter voice speak to me, “Don’t move, you’re bleeding too much. I just called for help, don’t worry.”
Was this a dream? Surely anyone else would have left me on the ground bleeding to death, but this kind soul came to my rescue and saved my life. In a matter of minutes I heard the loud siren of the ambulance get closer and soon a couple of men in white scooped my body up and carried it inside the van on a stretcher. My rescuer was in the van with me, he was holding on to my hand, not letting go for a second. I could feel him, but I couldn’t see him, everything around me was blurry, especially because of the blinding pain my side was emitting.
When we reached the hospital I was rushed inside, my body feeling more and more lifeless and my eyes slowly closing. I felt like I could cross over to the other side at any moment, the thin string holding my life together slowly deteriorating. This was probably it, I wasn’t going to make it through the night, I was positive.
I was set on a cold hospital table, doctors and nurses rushing to my side in order to stop the bleeding. I was conscious of everything, I could hear their frantic voices, and I could feel their hands on me. I definitely felt his presence there, my savior, the man that cared enough to not let me rot on the street.
I slowly opened my eyes, my body felt numb but somehow my vision was back. I looked around the room, the lights too bright and the sheets only making it brighter. My body was wrapped in endless blankets that made me feel warm and safe; the hospital gown on me was only a slim piece of fabric, so I thanked whoever had covered me.
I looked to the right and saw an unfamiliar person sitting down on a chair fast asleep, was he the doctor? A nurse? Who was this person? I stared at this man completely bewildered, I felt as if though I had probably seen him before, but I didn’t quite know where. I closed my eyes momentarily; the heart-beat monitor beside me was the only sound droning in the back. I could hardly remember anything, last thing I remember seeing was a bunch of men rushing towards me, but I remembered no pain, no faces, nothing, just a certain warmth in my hands, I remembered someone holding my hand.
“How are you feeling?” A sweet voice asked me lowly, I cracked an eye open and found the same man who was previously sleeping, staring at me. “I-I’m okay, I guess.” I tried to sit up but found that it was a definite struggle, ‘”Here let me help you.” The dark haired mystery man reached behind me and accommodated me as well as my pillows. “Thank you.” I whispered in return, “Can you please tell me why I’m here?”
He sat down next to me and looked out the window, the sun was shining brightly, his onyx colored hair shone delightfully in the glimmering sunlight, a shadow casted over his distinguishable bone structure, his face was so familiar, but I hardly remembered anything, last I remember it was night time, and apparently I had spent the night in the hospital. “It’s well, sort of a long story…” he replied vaguely, “I was smoking outside when I heard you struggling to get away from some guy, at first I thought he was like your boyfriend or something, but then I saw him pull out a knife and jam it right into you. You instantly fell on the ground, and when I saw the puddle of blood I panicked and called the paramedics. I was truly worried about you, I had seen you around the neighborhood before, we actually live in the same apartment complex.” I was pretty speechless at first; I had gotten stabbed by some random guy? And he saved my life, this person who I barely knew, this stranger?
“I-I don’t know what to say...” I said quietly, “T-Thank you, so much. I can’t believe I actually got stabbed, and y-you saved me. Thank you so much.” “Don’t even mention it!” he replied as he reached forward to grab my hand, “I spent the night, just to make sure you were okay. The doctors said you’ll be fine, you didn’t lose too much blood, but I just wanted to be sure. Please don’t think that’s too creepy.” I laughed, at the same time slightly blushing, “It’s not, trust me. I appreciate it; I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” Suddenly this man that had saved my life smiled, but smiled in a way that made me feel something that I had never felt before. A feeling that I’ve wanted to feel ever since I was born, he cared for me, he showed a gesture of love by doing what he did. Thanks to him I’m alive, thanks to him I learned how to feel rather than repel affection.
“You don’t have to…” he whispered, “I’d do it anytime, but please just promise me you’ll stay out of trouble? Or at least don’t be out at night.” I smirked, my hand grasping his tighter, “I promise I will, I foresee me having no business being out late from now on.”
He smiled and leaned closer to me, “I’m Aoi by the way…” he said, “And I’m Uruha, nice to meet you perfect stranger.”