It had been two days since Giriko had...sort of...successfully completed his first mission and saved the plus in question. He had destroyed the threatening hollow, saved the girl, etc etc he was a hero and all that fun stuff. Except, reality was a far different beast than that petty heroic delusion and the reality was, he lost three shinigami on his first assignment as a squad leader. Once he had gotten back and gave his report, while he was congratulated for his accomplishments, the rest of his squad admonished his inability to keep his own team alive. Giriko was effectively shunned, cast out, a pariah in the only home he had truly had in a long time. The boy was better equipped to handle it than most, he was used to being disliked and cast out, his life as a street urchin had prepared him for enduring looks of ever lasting disdain. While it stung, he was more than prepared for that kind of hatred. There was one more thing he had that kept him out of recurring despair. He still had a mission to complete. The woman, the plus he had saved, had given him something, something that had not left his side since it came in to his possession. Perhaps he had been able to tolerate being ostracized simply because he had rarely been in the compound, but every day involved Giriko scouring the streets of Rukongai looking for the soul that he had saved. Forty-eight hours later and his search had not yielded any results.
Time had elapsed too far however and he could no longer ignore his duties to Soul Society and the Gotei Thirteen. Confusingly however, he had been given a task that his squad normally would not handle. It was one of the more sparsely populated sections of Rukongai that Seireitei had gotten the report from. Far on the outskirts and with a small population but recently, bodies have been popping up dead. When Giriko was given the task to investigate, there was a small, quiet annoyance he felt nagging at the back of his mind. He knew he had a job to do and he was going to do it, but every night since he had returned there had...disquiet in his mind. Every night, he couldn't quite call it a dream, it was more of an urge that visited him in his sleep. Perhaps it was stress from letting the girl down, he didn't know, he wasn't one for the spiritual and mystical sides of this world. He just knew that every night, something was prodding at his brain, irritably reminding him that he had no kept his promise. The thought had returned to him as he sped toward the location of the murders, guilt driving him rather insane while he went. He wanted to go find Mikomi, not just because of the nagging not-quite-exactly-but-sorta-kinda-maybe dreams, but because he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her while he was awake as well. Maybe it was because he felt obligated, maybe it was because she was attractive and Giriko had been experiencing puberty for what effectively was the past thirty years, but Mikomi had rarely, if ever, left his mind.
Before he knew it, Giriko's feet gently touched down in the sparsely populated segment of Rukongai which, given the recent murders, was even less active than it normally was. It was an odd place for a serial killer, most of them preferred to function in higher populated areas. The body had been cordoned off and a couple of the provincial officials were surrounding it, looking at the gruesome scene. They nodded at Giriko when he arrived, apprehensive at first given his rather diminutive size but the presence of a Shinigami was inspiring to say the least and traumatizing to say the most, so despite their reservations they quickly stepped aside as he stepped toward the body. Giriko gently knelt down next to the body, examining the remains with a rather stoic expression, the sword he was carrying for Mikomi feeling uncomfortable at his side. The body was...well...desecrated. There was no indication of a weapon being used, despite the numerous gashes that littered the disfigured corpse. No, they weren't clean enough cuts for a blade, these were made by something less precise and finely tuned. If Giriko was on Earth, he'd assume it was an animal attack, but they didn't have those in Soul Society. The two officials confirmed that the other bodies were similarly desecrated when he turned his gaze to them before he sent them away, to keep the people in their homes.
Giriko dragged himself to his feet as the two officers finished keeping the people in their homes and out of sight. This wasn't an action done by a sane, rational individual. This was primal, animalistic, angry. Whatever this killer was, he wasn't the type who was going to be able to refrain from attacking him if he was the only target available. He'd smoke the killer out that way and hopefully the body count would only increase by one more as a result of this person's actions.
Scattered, vivid, red. It was dancing on the walls, on the floor, in the air. Dancing, flickering, like flames scattered on the surface of things; it was a beautiful sight that buried her eyes, her mind, her everything. It danced like a measure of beauty, like something that was truly amazing. The slow grin of a manic pair of lips, dyed in that blood, were flicking in the light. Yet sadness, yet happiness, yet horrow and more so anger; there was a need to survive, a hate that seemed to carry into the very bones of the person. There was something more so important then the vitae found within one, as bodies fell, those that had tried. Tried what? She couldn't remember; imagines of arriving in a new place, feeling pangs of hunger, wandering around and then slowly finding herself surrounded. Five, no eight. Pain; but not enough, the first one had fallen that day, so did the second. The third and fourth the day after that; and then she had gotten five, six and seven the next day. This was the last one; and on this one? She had found something interesting; it reminded her of something. Someone she wanted to see? She couldn't remember, her mind hazy about the details. Someone.. someone had something like this.. why? Why did she want to go near? It was strange, but she picked up the blade, and picked up the body. Walking to the ledge, she dropped it; with a sick crunch, the body flopped on the ground.
Her gaze caught sight of someone; in fact, this body had fallen relatively near the other body; not on, but near. The girl dropped her body from the roof, and walked towards the figure; where was the people? Blood covered her hands, up to her elbows; her eyes, red and gleaming, were also unfocused, without a direction. It was like she was a zombie; however, what she held in her hand was a zanpaktou. One that was taken off a shinigami corpse, killed not in the same method as this, but earlier this week, by these very people. The last one was their only suspect, and considering the blade in her hand, there was a good chance that he was the culprit; not that the girl knew that. But the blade hadn't assigned itself, since it was an academy student; her eyes, dropped on the male, and her mouth opened. ''Where.'' she said, her voice croaked, parched. The pangs of hunger ran through her body, eliciting a pained noise from her; she wasn't this hungry in forever. The realization to one that somebody was powerful enough to be half-mad with anger was quite shocking; shinigami's were, in nature, the opposite and yet similar to hollows. The girl stopped, almost as if sensing danger; but the face, the glasses, and the shape of the body was the same one as she held before; therefore, this was Mikomi, the girl that Giriko was searching for. At the realization of this, the sword at his side began to pull harshly on Giriko, as if attempting to make it's way to the girl.
But on her face, there was a growl, as if something antagonized her, the girl's steps backing away.
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A thud resonated through the clearing as the body was dropped rather unceremoniously on to the ground. Giriko's head turned slowly toward the bodies that he had already felt seeing the mangled corpse on the ground and feeling a quick sigh of rage fill up inside him. Whatever was doing this had killed one of his Shinigami. This bastard had just killed a Shinigami, that was not something that Giriko was going to stand for. Unless something dramatically changed, Giriko was going to kill this affront to society and drag its vapid corpse back to Seireitei. Giriko slowly reached down and drew his Zanpakutō, a look of stilled ferocity raised up toward her, fury and rage in his eyes as he finally recognized who his suspect was.
Mikomi was standing above him, blood staining every part of her that he could see. He could tell it was Mikomi, she hadn't been out of his thoughts and he hadn't exactly SKIMMED his observation of her in any way, shape, or form whatsoever. The girl was the same one he had konso'd not too long ago. The facial expression however, that one, was so very different. The Mikomi he knew was calm, giggly, and somewhat quiet and severe. This one...looked crazed, manic, devastated and from the noises her stomach was making, very hungry. Giriko, not someone who was especially good at hiding his emotions, couldn't help but have his eyes widen at the scene. This was the girl that he was casually thinking about flirting with earlier? The serial killer? His grip around Ikarutori tightened, a mix of pain and fury streaking through his eyes as he tried to figure out what he wanted to do about this. A single word escaped her, a word he could only guess at the meaning of but thankfully, he didn't need to think of the answer himself. At his side, a pressure was felt, as if the sword he had been carrying was trying to claw its way towards Mikomi. Giriko pulled out the blade, fleetingly glancing down at it as it tugged and pulled at him to return it to its owner.
Giriko was torn, on one hand this was his friend and one who, before her present condition, was one he was fairly attracted to. On the other, she had just left a startling body count, one of which being his own. Giriko couldn't let her live and couldn't bring himself to kill her either. So, he'd take the coward's way out. He couldn't make the decision for her life, he couldn't, it was way above his pay grade and he was supposed to catch her alive if possible anyway. Giriko's eyes glared up a the woman before his arm sprung back, his fingers wrapped around the girl's sword before the blade was catapulted forward, hurtling through the air toward the girl. In the brief moment before she would catch the blade, Giriko would seemingly "blip" out of view and appear next to her as the blade would touch land in her hand. A solemn, yet stoic look on his face as he delivered a harrowing elbow toward the girl's chin. Not enough force to cause any permanent damage, but with enough strength that a clean hit where he was aiming would render the girl unconscious, at least until he could drag her back to Seireitei.
''There...'' the girl whispered, as the male stared at her, seemingly caught. The girl could not understand his rage; she could not understand the fact that he was angry. None of the foes that she had faced were shinigami; a report of two weeks earlier had highlighted that death. She had simply taken the blade from her last adversary, as the girl felt the thing, the danger she felt, flying towards her. With an intense snarl, she tapped her feet back, shoving herself away from the blade, as it clattered on the ground; the girl herself was not in his grasp, as she was no longer there. Her instincts were screaming danger; and her aura, a confused animal before hand, became a scared, and dangerous animal; the blood thirst that one would assume with her appearance was lacking. In fact, one could only feel that the girl radiated fear, panic, and anger in being in this state. Although she had still caught his movements; he may be stronger, but the girl was used to fighting such opponents. Her instincts were sharpened, honed, and dangerous, as those red eyes seemed to come into focus. The wild ferocity in them was rather interesting; her hate towards the blade, and subsequent reaction to it was strange. The blade itself began to hum, vibrating in a staccato tune that everyone near by could hear; it was vibrating that hard, yes. The echoes of the blade danced in the air, even as the girl's body snarled; instincts yelled at her, fearing suppression, fearing the price that came with that blade.
''NO.'' her voice shouted out, angry; the sheer force of it was enough to cause pain to the ear. The girl would want to run; but the threat kept her from doing that, as not a single second passed that she did not see Giriko; she did not want to let him out of her sight, as the blade in her hand quivered. She wanted to run, as her body hunched a little, letting her center of gravity go a bit lower; she had to be more flexible, she had to get out, as she waited for the male to come towards her. It scrapped on the ground as she did so, the Zanpaktou not seemingly protesting; in fact, it was common knowledge that if one took a Zanpaktou that did not belong to them, that it would become too heavy to move without great strength. The only exception to this were the Asauchi; however, the blade in her hand did not feel as such, as any shinigami would sense the emptiness of an Asauchi. In fact, the moment it had been given to Mikomi, the girl's wealth of spiritual energy from her human life time filled it; the fact that the girl had enough power to survive four years in active combat without becoming a full hollow was perhaps a miracle, or perhaps just an impressive feat of will. This amount of power immidiately imprinted onto the blade, making it officially Mikomi's; and that was obvious, from the way it snaked on the ground, as if waiting for a chance.
And yet she didn't want to attack, the overriding fear of the blade keeping her from doing so; and the threat of Giriko's attack keeping her from running. To those instincts, this was a stalemate.. until he made his move.
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He...missed? The stream of concussive force sailed harmlessly in to the air as Mikomi thrashed aside the blade and pedaled backward. He didn't want to miss. Giriko's head drooped to the ground he was standing on, unable to meet her gaze as he aimlessly stared down, tired, upset, distraught. He couldn't find a single word that adequately captured how he felt right now. If she had just gotten hit, if she had just taken the strike, if she had just been rendered unconscious. If he had just taken her back to Seireitei. If she just hadn't resisted...he could have taken her back, they could have survived, he could have gotten her healthy, he could have saved her. She was now resisting arrest, she was fighting against the authority...she had just killed so many people. No, it was too later for that. Giriko had to kill her, he had to. It was his job, it was his duty, he needed to, he needed to. A tear streamed down the boy's cheek, the mere thought making him visibly upset. It couldn't be helped, he was going to have to kill his friend.
It wouldn't matter how used to fighting against stronger opponents she was. Regardless of how prepared she was, regardless of how smart she was, regardless of how well she dealt with people stronger than he, she simply wasn't fast enough to react to what Giriko was about to do. The boy bent down, his knee gently touching the ground as he picked up the sword that had been unceremoniously knocked out of the air and on to the earth. He was going to fulfill his promise. Slowly picking himself up to his feet, knowing Mikomi was still suspiciously watching him, knowing she was still waiting to react, Giriko decided that he wasn't going to care what she was doing. He was going to run right through her, he was going to crush her, he was going to completely, and utterly, obliterate any form of defense she had. His knees still bent as his center turned to face her, Giriko steeled himself for a maneuver that would ultimately be painful for both of them.
"You killed them!"
Without warning, two streams of concussive force exploded out of his down and backwardly angled fists. As the streams crashed in to the ground, they inevitably flung Giriko forward, the boy streaking like a bullet through the air and straight in to Mikomi's chest. As he would be making impact, Giriko's hands would fling forward, his free hand reaching out to grab the Zanpakutō she was already wielding as his other hand sought to force the sword he was holding in to hers, his fingers inevitably wrapping around her's on both hands as Giriko would be forced to awkwardly tackle her up, lifting their bodies up through the air and over the roof, the pair of them careening through the air in an awkward embrace before crashing in to a wooded area outside of the streets of Rukongai, Giriko landing rather haphazardly on top of her. The boy quickly let go of the girl's katana and reached back to his tanto, quickly retrieving it from it sheath as he raised his body, weapon by his ear as he glared down at her with a look mixed with rage and grief.
"YOU KILLED THEM!"
The knife came down, aimed straight for her nose, aiming to punch through her skull. But, he couldn't do it. A heavy thump echoed through the area as the small blade crashed in to the dirt beside her head. Giriko's hand slid off, leaving his Zanpakutō buried in the ground as his body hunched over, physically and mentally exhausted as his head hung low before resting on her chest, tears(manly ones of course) streaming down his face and moistening her shirt, the boy unable to cope with the decision he made.
That blade was thrashing, attempting to get at Mikomi, but could not. It vibrated with the very essence of the soul; the very being that Mikomi had been, it called to the body, the unreasonable body. Even as she had been away; the blade could sense Giriko's despair, and called to him. The girl saw the expressions dancing on his face, almost like flickering flames; but the animal did not want to deal with it, and simply wanted out. The wild animal before him was but a fool, not even realizing the true facts; he was angry, and Mikomi knew what that entailed, with the beastly hollow. She understood that with her human mind, but the animal mind did not want to. He picked up the sword that called out, and then the body felt it; sheer fear as he dashed towards her. She could not bear the impact stiffened, her body relaxed, and let him tackle her, like a rag doll; the instinct was to soften the blow, to spread it equally. Well, to continue that thought, jelly didn't break when you rammed into it, but steel did. There was a difference there, as the girl let him come to her; but he grabbed her hands, and she realized that, by doing that? He had effectively sealed a counter attack. The animal couldn't even fight, as it snarled; their bodies sailed over into the air, before crashing into land below. The tackle had turned into a strange embrace, even as there was a twinge in her heart.
It was crushed, as the girl shifted her body; she took the entire impact, shielding the male, although perhaps unnecessary, from it. In fact, it was a kindness that no animal could give; the flashing, red eyes were no longer vacant, but instead, the ferocity was something akin to the need to protect. As the male got up first, probably due to her taking the entire force of the impact, she watched him, the red eyes closing as the blade swung down. And then a thunk; however, there was no darkness, no end of all, no final rest. The girl's eyes opened, now shades of black, as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She had inherited them; the entirety of the memories of her body, of what it had done. She knew his grief; it was presented in the form of tears (manly right?) on her chest. The girl's arms rose, both blades pushing as she wrapped them around him. She could not help but seek to comfort him, yet again, although she was the cause of his grief. ''I'm sorry. I tried holding on.'' she said softly, knowing that she could not excuse what she did. But she had to explain things to thing; to show him the truth before he assumed the full facts. ''Yes, I killed those spirits. They tried to kill me, and rape me; they also killed and raped an academy trainee. I picked up their blade; although Shinigami blades, Zanpaktou are heavy, this one wasn't. This one wasn't fully born; so it became mine.''
She had began, hoping he would listen to those first words. Hoping that he believed her; the men had bragged about killing a shinigami, when they unsheathed that blade towards her body. More then likely, she knew if she fell asleep, she would forget this trauma; her mind would fog it, and she would no longer feel pain. That was the price for her to keep going; she knew that. But she wanted to tell him.. she wanted to let him know before it faded. She had to, even though it hurt, even though it felt so painful. She knew she had no right.. but she had to at least try.
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Giriko's very very very very masculine tears didn't seem to be stopping any time soon as he tried to repress his innate urge to start punching things in a blind rage. That was typically how the boy dealt with stress, he hit things, he vented his anger, he broke things. He was an emotional creature and the emotion that most frequently manifested itself was anger. It wasn't like it was difficult to generate anger right now either, he was furious. He was furious that he didn't find her sooner, he was furious that he didn't succeed in saving her from apparently herself, he was furious that he had a trail of corpses to clean up because of her. He was furious that he was furious. Giriko, while emotional, didn't form attachments like this, he simply didn't. It wasn't who he was. He was loud, violent, and he stamped his little feet when conflict arose. Anger didn't help him here, anger wouldn't save her. He felt something change below him though, the girl's body was tense before, heightened, alert...ferocious. Now it was different, now it felt like the Mikomi he remembered, the soft, caring, compassionate Mikomi, not the wild animal.
Noticing that was all it took for the remainder of Giriko's guard to vanish. As her arms wrapped around him, the boy's body sunk in to her's, his tear drenched face burying in to her shoulder as she held him. It was the first time in awhile that he actually felt comfortable, despite everything happening around him. He listened quietly, his lips trembling gently against her shoulder as he tried to process the information through the emotional maelstrom that was currently tearing him up inside. He was a naturally suspicious person, he didn't know if he believed her and it seemed like a convenient excuse to say that she had only killed those who deserved it, but he wanted to believe it and so for now, he accepted her story, burrowing his face deeper in to her neck as his arms wrapped around her's in turn. He was missing her before this happened, now that he had her back, now that he didn't have to kill her, he wasn't sure how to handle the new found emotions. He didn't know if he even could handle them. He held her there for a good while, he didn't want to let go, but they had things to do, well, more specifically he had things he had to make her do. Ignoring whatever double entendres one wanted to draw from that statement, Giriko slowly pushed himself up off the ground to look down at her eyes, both of their apparently moist with tears. Giriko slowly reached forward, brushing one of the tears out of her eyes and simultaneously feeling somewhat guilty for drenching her shoulder.
"I need to take you back to Seireitei...they'll want a report on...everything."
Slowly, he relaxed into her. His tears were causing her own to well up. She knew he was listening, even if he didn't trust her, as she held him tighter. ''I'll probably forget. It's the price I have to pay. I'm sorry Giriko; I can't atone, but please, make me atone.'' she whispered to him, the guilt of it all crushing her. She knew she would forget; it was the tick of time that would make it so, the cost of her powers to this. It was the price she had to pay; before her death, as her body was still alive, she had ripped out her internal anima stone; and embedded it into the sword; but in the process, released what the stone had kept sealed all this time. The true nature that she hit, that her family hid; the demonic maiden that lay within, caged by the barriers of her heart and emotions. Devoid of those, she became wild; the blade had been one half of Mikomi, whilst the body was the other half. That split, that schism, made it difficult to co-exist; and perhaps, that's why it was so difficult to hold onto the negativity of things. Wounded, he trusted his body to her; and she didn't know why, why her of all people, but she could feel her own heart shimmering. It was strange; this generally didn't happen to Mikomi. It was a bittersweet emotion; would she forget this? Or would it be remembered, remaining in her body because it could? She was worried, and yet, she wasn't.
He was holding her too, as if he didn't want her to leave. She knew this, and felt guilty; she probably made sure that her presence could not be forgotten. Although she held the body's memories, she remembered her time within the sword too; the feelings of being cradled and take care of each night; of him frantically searching for her, traces of her being to give the sword to, remembering her promise, that final one. She could remember how torn up he had been over it; and she remembered, how much he wanted to find her. Those feelings were pure; she didn't know why, but they were. The girl was startled, as he wiped a tear from her eye, the girl giving a soft smile, as she wiped some of the blood off his cheek. The place where he had been crying was clean now, as she heard his words. Nodding softly, the girl did let out a giggle. ''But first, let's find a river, no need to look like ovulation gone wrong.'' she said, unable to take the fact that they were both covered in huge amounts of blood seriously. Or rather, she did, but wanted to make a joke to relax; and her joke was odd placed, like always. The girl let out a sigh, and nodded, slowly releasing her tight hug, allowing him to get up. ''I will do what I can. Just let me atone for this with you. In any way you want. Anything.'' she asked again, this time her eyes staring straight at him.
She knew she would have to work for his forgiveness, and would give her all to it, regardless of what it was, even if she was against it. She meant it; she wanted to make him happy again.. and maybe ease some of the pain she had caused him, just a little. That would probably make it easier on both of them; perhaps her own guilt would be assuaged a little then. But since he felt that strongly.. she wanted him to be the one that made her atone. Not anybody else; for that was not something that would make her truly atone; rather it would just make the situation worse.. and that would not be forgiven at all.
Joined : 2012-10-02 Posts : 1018 Age : 83
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Giriko did not understand what she meant, not completely. He didn't understand the price she had to pay, he didn't know what she meant by atoning, but he did know that he never wanted to let her go, not that he had her again. When he felt her lessen her grip on him as she spoke, the nod and the slight giggle caught Giriko slightly off guard. He wasn't sure what it was that awoke him to this face, but he was being reminded of how terribly vulnerable he was letting himself be with this woman and as soon as he was given the chance he, admittedly rather reluctantly, rolled off her, almost defiantly righting himself in to an upright and solitary position. He definitely wasn't going to let anyone know that he actually enjoyed that, no sir. Her joke, as always, was in completely horrible taste but as Giriko looked down to survey his clothes, he realized it was relatively accurate. The blood that had coated her body before had stuck to him and gave him a rather painful appreciation for what a giant's menstruation cycle must look like.
As she brought up her atonement, Giriko was not sure how to react. He wasn't in a position of power, he wasn't the one who could absolve her of her sins. There was not much he could do to help her atone, at least not that he knew of. Perhaps he didn't understand her or perhaps she really only cared about his opinion, he didn't know. Giriko turned his head back down to her as she finished speaking, a quizzical look on his face. It only remained there for a moment however, not because his query was answered, but because it wouldn't do much good asking about it right now. She was right, they were a mess and he couldn't show back up in Seireitei like this. The boy reached down and grabbed hold of her hand, linking his fingers with hers when he was sure no body was looking, and gently tugged her to her feet and led her off. One of the perks of being able to feel the wind meant he could feel the temperature. Wind blowing over bodies of water did not have the same temperature as wind blown constantly over land, he could feel the direction the river was coming from. He didn't bother explaining that to her, he was too busy leading her along by the hand to explain. Not because he necessarily thought she didn't need to know, simply because he got wrapped up in his objective. It was a recurring problem for him. It did not take them long to find the body of running water, Giriko stopping at the edge of the small and rather shallow stream.
It was almost like he kept switching around. He went from all open to closed; it was like there was something inside of him that resisted being fully honest with not only himself, but others too. It would probably become troublesome, but she gave a gentle smile; she wanted him to go at his own pace. Their meeting; the longing for each other and the fact that they were perhaps meant to be bound together. She wasn't sure, but there was a sort of light hearted join in her heart, almost dancing like fireworks in her. She wanted to be by his side, she realized, and perhaps that's why she asked him specifically to let her atone. She wanted to atone by him, with him, and under his tutelage; even though she would forget why she felt like this, she realized that she wouldn't lose these feelings because they were not negative. That soothed her heart to some degree, as she let out a soft sigh. She didn't want to lose that feeling, the ones that were being born just by being here. Although he didn't laugh at her joke, gave her the same look he did with the picket one, he did look all over himself. And realized how bloody he was. Perhaps that was her point, as she felt her hand taken by his, and just gave him a gentle smile, letting him guide her towards where ever he wanted to go. She didn't really mind being lead by him at all.
His grip was gentle, almost shy, but he was guiding her towards somewhere. She kind of wanted to know how, but she would ask him later, having already decided to put her trust in him. Although, she wondered why he looked around; was it weird to hold a bloody hand? Well okay maybe it was, but did it require that much caution? The girl was curious, but happy as he led her along, and then he found a beautiful stream. She let her eyes widen, a small breath escaping her; the area and the stream were beautiful, as she looked up at him, and nodded. ''Yes.. it will work. Let's go!'' she said cheerfully, still holding his hand. With a tug, she brought him down towards the stream; she stopped and took off her shoes, and slowly her stockings too, dipping them in the water to clean them. She had to let go of his hand, and slowly, almost reluctantly, she did so, scrubbing the blood out of the dark material. At least it wouldn't show on such, as she then put the stockings on a near-by branch, and washed the shoes too, putting them nearby. In fact, she didn't seem to feel awkward. ''Hmm.. I guess we have to take them off.. so.. it shouldn't be embarrassing. I'm going to need your help.. I think I got some stuck on my back.'' she said frankly, if not a bit shyly. Uwaaa, she felt so awkward about this, but.. she wanted to smile at him.
And then she unhooked her skirt, and slipped it off, along with her blouse, not leaving him much time to think. She figured if he thought too much.. it would lead to weird, perverted things! So she began to wash them, and put them on the branch too, before tugging her bra off, along with her panties; washing them rapidly, letting them dry to the air, she then began to scrub at her skin. She did her best to ignore him.. but she was naked. And rather quickly too. Oh she felt so embarrassed.. but she had to do this right? She was his, because she wanted to atone for him. So.. all of her belonged to him right now. She wondered if he had begun to realized that.. or if she would have to tell him about such a thing.