Ikarishipping Scene 7: Wooden Swings

An improbable circumstance has led to an unexpected, midnight discussion between two people of completely different worlds, their worlds with their own stereotypes and misconceptions; said items later being elucidated through tranquil talk and instantaneous chemistry between two seemingly opposed hearts with one common attribute: loneliness.

The screaming had become too much for her.

The night served to be a much better host than her less than humble abode, its modernity being simple enough to calm her breathing and soothe her mind. A gentle wisp of wind would cool her body down from the previous, incensed emotions that had consumed her body. The faint glow that the stars set upon the world around her, along with the facilitation of man-made objects such as street lamps, helped create a peaceful atmosphere for her to finally be able to do the one thing she longed to do.

Relax.

However, there was a part of her that would always be on edge.

Hikari is everything a girl of the twenty-first century wants to be: slender, beautiful, smart, friendly, etc. Her life had pretty much been handed to her, which is something a struggling seventeen year-old would beg for. She wasn't confused, she knew exactly who she was, and she wasn't disappointed about it either. By taking what life had given her, brains, talent, and beauty, she had successfully become a top student and an overall, admired young women who young men drool over, and other young women loathe with ugly jealousy. Her choice of college would most likely be an Ivy League, for she was certainly more than capable. She constantly heard her parents debate over which school would be better; Cornell, Colombia, Yale, Stanford…Hikari knew she wouldn't be making the choice, so she'd be happy with any, really.

But to Hikari, she wasn't marvelous, lovely, nor bound for greatness; she simply…was. She was simply one of the many radiant, beaming stars that shown throughout the sky she gazed upon now. No person could measure to be the full, vibrant moon that grandstanded before her in its immortal beauty. Sure, she made herself into a spectacular young woman, but never did she put herself above anything. Beneath the wonderful accolades and comely face was the typical, despondent teenage girl. This unfortunate characteristic derived from a source one would think the most of said attribute would stem from. Needless to say, all she could do was forget about it for this one serene moment, and focus on finishing the book in her hand.

After slowly meandering throughout the pristine neighborhood she lived in, she finally reached her destination: the playground. Its charming naiveté appealed to her immensely, therefore she found it to be a perfect location to be alone. Her destination within the destination was now within eyesight, and upon seeing it, she felt the smile come to her face.

Two wooden swings, fastened by rusted steel chains, attached to a steel pole fixture, which still stood after so many years of Hikari's life, sat, almost as if they were waiting for her. She took one last panoramic look of the glorious night sky above her, breathing in the crisp, autumn air.

Then, after sighing ever so slightly, she tenderly sat herself upon the leftmost wooden swing, and opened the faded pages of her beloved book. Books, to her, were a lovely medium to escape from whatever harsh reality had been thrown towards her, which seemed to be happening in a frequent way. She felt herself begin to swing a little, gently lifting her legs, as to avoid the damp, roughened mulch beneath her.

She breathed in the cool night air, and quietly exhaled; at that moment, the world stood still, and nothing existed but her and the wooden swing she sat upon.

The screaming had become too much for him.

He sprinted as fast as his legs would allow him to, which was a lot, but never enough.

The skin-crawling, distant growling and barking of guard dogs reverberated throughout the night, casting a pall of fear over the frightened young man. He tried his best to shake it off, but the snarling of the fierce canines was practically continuous, as if it were the new background noise to the midnight sky. Not being particularly familiar with this part of town (or forest), the sensible method of escape would be to follow the moon, for it would lead him to some eventual means of assistance…which he could only hope for.

As he galloped through the darkened setting, he disposed of his fluorescent orange, utilitarian uniform he was forced to wear immediately upon entry, leaving him in a pair of black, surprisingly comfortable gym shorts that went below the knee, and a casual long-sleeve, fitted shirt. Luckily for him, the overabundance of obsidian would allow for carefree camouflage, leading to a successful slip. Thinking it through, he stopped in his tracks for a couple of seconds, tattered the uniform with his bare hands, balled said uniform up, and pitched it far away in the opposite direction of where he was going, as if to lead them away from his actual destination.

This has yet to be named.

It came to the point where he just couldn't keep up his hasty pace anymore, so he had to stop and take a breath, or a hundred. To his fortune, he could hear the ominous barking of dogs become more distant within the now brisk winds, and it wasn't long until they were almost nonexistent. Shinji took that moment to breathe a sigh of relief, the first he has completed in a while.

At age 14, a young man would find himself in the beginnings of his prime time; the inception of manhood is at its infamous infancy, the idea of girls not being so icky after all is becoming more credible, and his primal desire to protect those around him is in full swing. However, young Shinji found himself in juvenile detention for assisting his friends in the absconding of what seemed to be prized possessions at the time. In retrospect, condoms would not have been helpful for any of them, especially Shinji; but the gun might have been worth it.

Four years later, here he is, completely transformed in a way that could be admirable or feared, totally dependent on the perspective. He had to admit that he was a pretty scrawny kid; his already baggy clothes would hang off of him like wet rags, and his voice had matured quickly, its deep tone not being harmonious with his short stature, which also lacked muscle. Naturally, a young man would try to compensate, acting out in various "manly", "respected" ways, hoping to gain the attention of others through means other than his less than threatening appearance, (i.e. thievery in convenience stores)

Now, he was in the midst of his 18th year of life, with solid muscle on his arms, legs and back from years of boredom behind bars, a permanent scowl, and spiked hair that lay beneath a baggy black beanie; overall, a more than threatening appearance. His aesthetic did not preoccupy a large slot of his mind; the images he has seen, the events he has witnessed…they were far beyond repair, and he knew after so many of these violent acts, he had to escape, and become one with the real world again. The world he used to know before he was mercilessly incarcerated for a, in his opinion, menial offense.

Shinji looked up at the night sky, spying the moon once more, and instead of scuttling, he decided to walk, as well as enjoy the scenery. It had been so long since he had seen it in its natural state, instead of on a miniscule television screen, or a fellow inmate's pedestrian depiction on a cell wall. He put his hands in his pockets, and slouched his stature a little, feeling that he could do something that he has wanted to do for a long time.

Relax.

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."

Hikari lightly closed the notorious classic, and rested it on her lap. She knew that she could never relate to Sydney Carton, but his catharsis was something to note. He admits that he had nothing of any gain to add to the already destructive, chaotic atmosphere that had embedded 18th century, revolutionary France. He simply…was; similar to Hikari. He felt he had nothing to add to the world, because not only was his world crumbling around him by his own government, but he also had convinced himself that he was the instrument of his own demise, and that he himself limited anything he could possibly do to fix whatever mayhem was inflicted on any one person, or hundred. Even the one he loved so dearly, Lucy…because of his lack of confidence, he didn't long to be the hero.

He just wanted to…be. Yet the world he lived in, he was automatically labeled a victim.

Hikari traced over the beautiful cover art of the novel, and as she laid her hand onto her lap with the other, she looked up at the night sky once more, not noticing the stars twinkle, for her eyes were glazed over with an emotion she could not label. It was not odd for a novel to do this to her, yet for some reason, that particular, ultimate line seemed to hit her harder than it had the other hundred times she had read the beloved work of Dickens.

Due to her alleged perfect life, criticism and harsh words towards her were practically inevitable, and it seemed like said commentary was coming towards her from every direction. No matter what she did, perfect or terrible, someone was there to bring her down for it. She could not enjoy the life she'd never be able to live again because of her constant fear of being criticized for it; she had absolutely nowhere to turn.

It was times like these that she savored the most; being by herself. This way, there was no pressure for her to be anything, but for her to just…be. She could live in the moment, and she could take specific notice of a sweet-tempered caress of wind, or the nocturne of one cricket to another.

It is true that Hikari liked being alone, but she did not fancy being lonely.

As she breathed out a sigh that dripped in melancholia, the snap of a twig made her sharply suck her breath back in, and avert her gaze towards the forest that was set to her left. She gripped her book tightly as her eyes widened in fear of what could be waiting beyond the grand, blackened trees. The reality of night fell upon her, meaning she was vulnerable to whatever danger lurked in the innumerate shadows, her only means of protection a couple hundred pages bound together. She slowly stood up, trying to see if she could depict what made the noise.

At once, she saw a tall dark figure emerge, and as soon as she saw that, she bolted from the swing, and hid behind a playground fixture, peeking around the corner to observe further. The figure was walking closer and closer to the park vicinity, so her heart began to drop further and further into her chest.

The swing eerily creaked.

Although his childhood park was out in the open, he highly doubted that the cops would come looking for him in a place where there were play items made out of neon plastic. So, he took this time to leisurely walk around, and takes advantage of the rare occurrence of quiet, as well as his first experiences of being in the real world again. He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and peered around. Several memories of his not too distant childhood flooded into his mind, and he couldn't help but be depressed, because his childhood was basically taken away from him by legal affairs, as well as his adolescent stupidity. He knew that it was partially his fault, and he couldn't comprehend how he'd want to throw away such an important part of a man's life, where he just begins to find out who he is.

The cacophonous squealing of rusted chains caught his attention, which inevitably led to him catching sight of the old, beaten wooden swings. He smirked to himself, reminiscing on how when he was younger, his older brother would push him higher and higher. It never was high enough for Shinji, but he always admired the effort his brother would put into it.

Now, he knows not where his brother is located; nor anyone of his family. All he had was he, and himself.

Suddenly feeling bemused, he strode over to the rightmost swing, and sat himself down on it. He was surprised it could support his weight, but he shrugged it off, and lightly began to swing.

Hikari continued to stare at the mass of a man, playfully swinging, thinking nobody was secretly watching him. She couldn't deny any initial fear; the guy was definitely not someone she'd casually greet on the street. He looked like a thug, someone who was always looking to get into trouble, and those were the guys Hikari made a point to stay away from. However, she couldn't help but be amused by the sight of such a threatening-looking man joyfully swinging on a minute swing. Inside her mind, she was giggling, but she made sure to stay quiet. She gripped her fists together, expecting to feel her book between her long, thin fingers; but, she felt nothing. She lightly gasped, looking down at her hands to validate that her book was not there.

"Hn?"

She looked up to see her favorite novelin the gruff hands of the mystery man. He analyzed the front, running his hand over the engraved cover art, just like Hikari had done. She curiously observed his actions, and couldn't help but drop her jaw when she saw him open the pages, and read the notorious first paragraph out loud to himself.

"'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.'"

"Hmm…" He murmured to himself.

He recalled reading the first paragraph at the tender age of 10, and not having a single clue about the insinuative, dichotomous setting Dickens was preparing the reader for. He simply saw it as Dickens being indecisive, and not knowing what he was saying. His manipulation of anaphora, Shinji had seen as a lack of creativity, instead of a tool of emphasis. However, now that he was jaded, and has seen the horrors this world can push on an individual, Dickens' elusiveness was suddenly lucid.

There was love, and there was evil. There was family, and there were foes. There was acceptance, and there was oppression. That was the world Dickens lived in, and those traits are still embedded into society today, permanently.

"Um, excuse me?"

He looked up, and to his surprise, a young girl stood to his right, her fist covering her mouth. He could barely hear her utter those words for she was so quiet, and her hand muffled her voice furthermore. Alarmed, he rose to his feet, the book still in his hand. "Uh…"

As the two faced each other directly, Hikari completely lost her voice at the sight of Shinji, and Shinji's face read shock, mostly from why another person, especially a girl who looked about seventeen, would be out at midnight by herself. He was curious, and waited for her to speak, and when she did, it wasn't much. He observed her outfit, noticing that the fashion of today's youth had dramatically changed from what he saw four years prior.

But in reality, she was just in her pajamas.

"I, um…" She uttered out, her inflection rising.

"I'm guessing this is yours?" He held the book out towards her, not looking at her.

"Yeah…thanks." She gingerly took the book into her own hands, and held it tightly against her chest.

"No problem…you wouldn't happen to know what town this is, would you." He slowly looked at her face, taking note of how her eyes glowed, even in the dark of night.

"Twinleaf…the bigger part of town is over there." She pointed south of where they stood, facing to where she pointed, and then turning back to him.

"…Thanks." He said.

He didn't make any move towards where she pointed. His feet remained planted to the ground, which brought about even more awkwardness. Hikari felt it as well, looking down at her feet and rubbing her arm. As she did this, she caught sight of the previous item of discussion, and felt the urge to ask him a question.

"…I'm guessing you like this book?" She suddenly started, shocking both him and herself.

Shinji arched his neck up upon hearing her speak, but quickly bent it back down, feeling slightly embarrassed by her desire to have a conversation. She looked up, her piercing blue eyes analyzing his facial features, as well as the rest of him, now that she was up close. He looked at her, and noticed her looking at him intensely.

"Uh, uh…yeah. I never really understood it as a kid but now I, uh…get it." He stuttered out.

"Same…I couldn't help but notice that you read the first paragraph out loud to yourself, so I figured I'd ask." She smiled a little.

He didn't feel himself smirking at her remark, and the smile she offered him.

She smiled back, this one fading away quicker than the last.

"…isn't it a little late for a girl to be out by herself?" He asked, not realizing that he was still smirking.

She felt herself blush a little, but quickly shook it off. "This town isn't the slightest bit dangerous. I usually come out her around this time anyway."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I've never seen you around her before though," she quickly added. "What brings you here?"

He shrugged. "I was just…passing through."

"I see."

Hikari sat herself down on the left swing, suddenly overcome with fatigue. "Passing through at midnight…highly unlikely, but I'll buy it." She found herself smiling again.

He smirked at this, strode over to the swing next to her, and sat himself on it. The two didn't look at each other as he did so. However, instantly, and in unison, the two looked up at the moon which now faced them in its full, glorious climax. Shinji slightly leaned forward, and crossed his hands together, still looking at the moon. Hikari gripped both chains and looked down at her dangling feet, her eyelids becoming heavy with more than just lethargy.

"So what's your name?" Hikari asked, looking over at him.

"Shinji." He tersely replied, not looking at her. She frowned from his curt tone, and averted her gaze back to her white, furry boots. "And yours?" He asked.

"…my name is Hikari." She couldn't remember the last time she said that sentence out loud.

"It's nice to meet you."

The silhouette of a burly arm sticking out towards a petite young woman's hand became present in the moon's glow, as well as Hikari looking at his hand to his face. Slowly, she took his hand in hers, and shook it firmly yet lightly. He immediately retracted the gesture, leaving her hand floating in the space between them for a couple of seconds before she thought to rest it on her lap once more. Another wind blew by, this one chillier than the past, so Hikari pulled her scarf over her lips, to soothe the trembling fit they burst into just then. Shinji noticed this out of the corner of his eye, but did not react.

"So tell me Hikari…"

She looked up at him, still holding the scarf over her mouth, just leaving her lively sapphire eyes to be the point for Shinji to focus on, which he did.

Intently.

"…what are you really doing here?"

Hikari closed her eyes as she sighed, and looked up away from him, focusing her attention on the moon. "Is that really any of your concern…"

"Hey, we're all a little damaged." He commented, making her look over at him again. "I'm sure it's nothin' too serious."

"I wish it wasn't that serious…sometimes I wish it was just me overreacting like any teenage girl would, but…sadly, that isn't my reality." She began, stopping herself as soon as she could.

But, she found herself speaking once more. This time, she spoke towards the moon, not expecting him to listen, but knowing someone was there, in her presence, somehow, it comforted her more; even if this person was a complete stranger.

"It's as if life was patched for me so I had no room to complain, or feel sad. So whenever I feel sad, I feel guilty, and I can't talk to anyone about it, because they'll tell me, 'oh you're perfect, what do you care', or 'Hikari, just be thankful for what you have', etc. Naturally, my sadness grows with the help of the guilt, and I find myself getting into useless combat with my parents, and soon enough, the screaming becomes too much for me, and I need to get away. So, Shinji, that's why I'm here tonight, like every other night."

She looked back over at him, and saw that he wasn't paying attention to her, or at least it didn't seem like it. He, too, was looking at the moon, his eyes glazed over, and his mind in a completely different place. Hikari huffed, crossed her arms, and faced the moon.

"Life has sunken so low that I've begun preaching my problems to random guys who come out of the forest at midnight." She said out loud.

"I see…" he muttered in his deep tone of voice. "I'm sorry you couldn't have a more prestigious audience."

She didn't reply. Feeling a little guilty, she lowered her head a little, closing her eyes halfway.

"…but I do get where you're coming from, if that helps."

She opened her eyes fully, and looked over at Shinji, seeing that he, again, was not looking at her, but the moon.

"You feel as if you have something wrong going on in your life, despite it being painful, is much less agony then what another being is going through concurrently. You're saying that pain is only relative…and considering where you are, it's as if you're not allowed to be sad, only happy…I mean, that's what I'm hearing."

She continued to stare at him, perplexed that a complete stranger was able to fully comprehend her in mere seconds compared to the hundreds of people in her life who failed to do so in the years she has made them acquaintances. His words heavily hung in the air, especially for Hikari; for they were words she'd never expect to hear from another. She watched him look up at the moon again, as well as the diddling of his strong fingers as the silence drew on between them.

Shinji tensed upon hearing a siren blare in the distance, but tried to think nothing of it.

"…yes…that is precisely what I meant." She replied in a quiet voice, catching his attention.

"Hmm." He grunted back, relaxing a little as the siren slowly disappeared into the air.

Another autumn wind blew past, causing Hikari to raise her scarf over her nose once more. As she did this, Shinji found himself looking at her again, but more specifically her eyes. When segregated from the rest of her face, they appeared even more gloriously, the moon's glow causing them to shine as she gazed at the moon. Shinji was shocked to see tears in her eyes, and found himself instantly asking her why this is so. "…are you seriously crying." Even though he asked her, he didn't sound the least bit concerned.

"…it's just that…" she mumbled.

The silhouettes of the two on the dated swing set became darker as the moon slowly glided to the antipode of the earth's axis. Shinji turned to face Hikari, who remained slightly slumped over, still holding the scarf over the bottom half of her face. Even though her mouth was covered, Shinji could see her lips quivering, along with her eyes squinting. He looked down at his hands that were crossed in front of him, pursed his lips a little, and sat up in the swing, hoping to catch her attention with the insistent squealing, which he didn't.

"How old are you?"

She looked over at him, confused as to how he could've digressed so quickly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just curious, considering how utterly depressed you are…you can't be so young-looking and simultaneously unhappy, can you?"

"Apparently…is seventeen old enough for you?"

"Seventeen?"

She nodded, looking down at the ground, feeling her eyes water once more. "It seems like the perfect age, really…you're not as naïve as you were when you were sixteen, yet you're not facing the pressures of adulthood at eighteen…one should be blithesome when he/she is seventeen, and yet here I am…"

"'Preaching my problems to random guys who come out of the forest at midnight'?"

"Are they problems though, I mean really…" she questioned. "Or are they just necessary rites to pass through…"

Shinji listened to her words, and found that the lingered with self-doubt and constant reassessment. He could physically see her doubt her own words, thoughts, ideas, etc., and it was honestly incomprehensible to him to see someone be so unsure of what she thinks, due to the pressures of other forces that ultimately did not affect how she chose to live her life. He was more confused than sad for the girl. It didn't seem to be another case of a querulous, insatiable teenager seeking the projected perfection of the artificial world. In fact, it seemed like she was trying to escape from that faux state of heaven.

"Look…" he began, catching her attention, "we all have problems, and we all make dumb mistakes; in fact, that's why I'm here right now. But you can't think that because you're in a good physical state that you aren't allowed to be honest with how you feel. You shouldn't let others dictate to you who you are, and how you have to be. That's your decision; not your parents', not your peers, not your tyrannical 18th century French government's, yours. If you feel sad, be fucking sad. Do you know how messed up you have to be to not allow yourself to feel what you want because you're afraid of what others will think? What others will think of you being sad? You must be screwed up in more ways than one, kid."

"Well gee, thanks for the encouragement." She responded with annoyance, glaring at him. "You think I don't know that I'm screwed up? It's pretty damn obvious that I am. My life is being manipulated by what is expected of this barbarically simplistic society, trying to find niches to make life more understandable, and easier to grasp. I'm sorry that I don't fit into the mold, I really am…but rich, smart, pretty girls can be messed up too! Is that so hard to comprehend?"

"It's difficult for most, I'm afraid. It's not the only societal curveball that's hard to take in…"

She went silent.

"Do you wanna know why I'm here tonight?"

The two very different individuals stared at each other as he waited for her answer, and she couldn't help but feel curious as to why he was at the playground, after conveniently venturing from a dark forest. She slowly nodded twice, not breaking his gaze.

"People also misconstrued who I was. I didn't fit into their schemas as well."

"You don't say…" she commented, observing him gingerly kick at the dark brown mulch beneath his feet, then raising her gaze back up to his stolid, structured face.

"I mean come on, do I look like a nice person?" He posed to her, looking her straight in the eye. "Do I sound like a nice person?"

She found herself at a loss for words. It made her feel awful that she couldn't immediately disprove his theory, but her silence was enough of an answer for him. Even when she stuttered out a few syllables, "I—I…n—", he was still gratified by her response.

"Don't stress yourself, you know what the answer is." He stated, looking down at his hands. "It's always been like that. Even when I was just fourteen, I was always this way. So, I was always blamed for things, and if I were ever to be happy, it would immediately be questioned. I mean, your sadness is questioned, can you imagine having your happiness debated?"

She took in his last sentence, and before she could answer, she heard him begin to rant, and although she was surprised, she chose to listen. She didn't know why she wanted to listen so badly, but there was something about the tone of his voice that implied he knew what she was going through, but through the opposite emotion.

"If I was happy, people would assume it's because I beat somebody up or stole a valuable item. It doesn't even matter if I were a terrible person, the fact that I can't explain, and people automatically judge is what is so bothersome. It's like I don't even have a chance to let someone know that I really am kind of a nice guy on the inside. I can be happy, I can be helpful, kind, whatever the hell qualifies as 'nice'. It just kinda sucks that I don't have any say in it."

"…I hear ya…" Hikari commented, still looking over at him. "I just don't know if it's sad or wonderful that I can completely relate…"

"It can be the best of times, and it can be the worst of times."

She acknowledged his reference and lightly smiled at him, causing him to smirk back at her. The two held each other's gazes for several seconds before Shinji broke away from it and looked up at the moon. Hikari continued to look at him for a little while longer, completely confused, yet bemused.

"But most of the time," he spoke again, "I find it easier to be alone. That way, I can be the most honest about who I am…and it's been relatively easy for these past couple years to be alone." He made sure to kind of throw away his last comment, not wanting to allude to his past situation.

She nodded and hummed in agreement. "When you're alone, you can be anything you want to be…not what everyone else expects you to be. Even if what they expect is wonderful and perfect. I'd imagine it's a lot worse on the flip side though." She looked over at him again, to see him look over at her.

"That's what I thought until I heard the other flip side."

She felt herself blush a little, which she herself was bewildered by. Involuntarily, she covered her face with the familiar pink scarf, and turned away from him. "You say you like to be alone, yet here you are. Didn't you say you had to go to Twinleaf?"

"True, I do like to be alone, because, like you concurred, it's just easier for people like me…and people like you. I like being alone, but I don't fancy being lonely."

Hikari quietly gasped upon hearing him speak the words she pretty much chanted to herself earlier, and the past few years of her life. He raised an eyebrow at her reaction, and actually chuckled a little. "Do you agree, or…?"

"Huh?" She broke from her thoughts and faced this man who was still a stranger to her; a stranger who seemed to say all the things she desperately wanted another person to say to her.

"Do you agree?" He repeated, leaning back from her, his eyebrow still raised.

"…yes, completely." She finally said after several seconds of awkward silence.

He smirked, and looked at the ground. "Maybe I'm not so lonely after all."

She smiled at him when he looked back up at her. "I guess not."

The two continued to exchange smiles/smirks before looking back up at the moon.

When their discussion had started, the two were at the opposite side of their respectful wooden swings, but now, the two strangers that seemed to know so much about one another, sat as close to each other as they could, admiring the beautiful, simplistic scenery before them. Every now and then, he would look out of the corner of his eye to see a faint smile on her face, and it seemed like, to him at least, for the first time in her life, she felt as if somebody understood her; even if he had no idea who she actually was. The same went for him; it seemed as if nobody would ever understand his predicament, let alone take the time to hear him out. For the first time in Shinji's life, somebody actually listened to what he had to say, and thankfully for him, he said the right things.

The two sat on the creaking, wooden swings until dawn, completely tuning out the sounds of sirens, and the cries of two very seemingly worried parental figures. These parental figures babbling endlessly over the possibility of their precious little girl being tied up with a ruthless, terrible convict.

Little did they know that their unique, lonesome daughter, for the first time, felt most at peace with a unique, lonesome convict.

Gently swinging on beaten down, wooden swings.

This story is very...naive.

I started it when I was fourteen, and decided to pick it back up and add some more mature themes to it. I primarily wanted it to be a super romantic thing where the jailbird woos the pretty girl despite the fact that he's convicted blah blah blah they have an epic kiss blah blah blah they run away get married blah blah blah...I decided to not go in the general romantic route with this, because I feel like Ikarishipping has more emotional depth to play with than just love.

Now that I'm a little jaded myself, I decided to play with some themes. Angst, perspective, dichotomy, adversity, loneliness, and the idea of two opposites coming together. I mean that's what ikarishipping is, right? Opposites attract? Opposites don't necessarily have to attract in a romantic way; sometimes, a person from a totally different world can understand another's struggles so simply, because it routes back to who he/she is. It's astounding, it really is, how two complete opposites, strangers, etc., know each other better than his/her's loved ones. I remember the scene in Familiarity Breeds Strategy in the Sinnoh League where Paul just randomly opened up to Dawn about how he can't stand Ash because he's just like Reggie...I mean, that was a side of Paul we had never seen before, so why did he say it to Dawn? I'm not trying to propose a case of ikarishipping, because we all know it's a fanon, but what I'm trying to say is that,

our opposites can understand us better than ourselves, sometimes.

With that being said, why is A Tale of Two Cities a part of this? Well, Dickens is my favorite writer of all time, for one. He has an amazing ability with characterization and manipulating emotions into single characters, and that's how I want to write. Also, the first, infamous paragraph speaks of perspective. Even in revolutionary France, some things were beautiful, and some things were dastardly. People like Sydney Carton were already labeled, like Shinji and Hikari, as certain people, and he just didn't fit into the schema. Madame Defarge was a killing machine, yes, but inside, she just wanted her country back. The world can be amazing, it can be awful. That's what Dickens was trying to say. It's all about perspective.

And if we take the time to learn about other perspectives instead of being rapt in our own, then the world can become a much better place. The type of place that Sydney Carton speaks of before he dies at the end.

I hope this story made you think a little.

~AsanganiKalani

Now with that terribly long description, here are some updates:

I'm very happy that all of you seemed to enjoy I Don't Want A Fighter. I'm glad it was my first finished story, because I did enjoy writing it. Hopefully I'll be able to write another great one like that. ^~^

Chapter 4 of Light and Dark is in the works! It's almost done actually...I need to finish that. I'm glad to know you guys are liking that story, I was afraid it wasn't going to be well-received.

S is For Slaughter is still on hiatus, sorry folks.

I have a new idea for a story, which will be quite different than usual. It's planned to be Advanceshipping/Contestshipping, and at the moment it's titled Conflicted. It shouldn't be the typical "two loves but she has to pick one" story, because, well, it's based off of an experience I recently went through.

Okay bye for realz.

~AsanganiKalani