paradox | ushijima wakatoshi

nine | stop (please)

Warning!
There is a scene concerning the topic of sexual assault. Don't read this if you're uncomfortable! But if this kind of scenario ever happens to you guys, please make sure to tell someone and get proper help. Do not think that you have to bear the pain alone!

***

"Shiori-" Tōru paused, unsure of how he should continue. She were obviously unstable right now, but it was his job as her brother to nurse her back to health.

"Shiori," he started again, "you can't keep going on like this. I know that seeing your ex might have been hard for you, but don't you think that you're overreacting?"

She jolted up upon hearing that.

He continued on, oblivious to her newfound attention. "I mean, I know that you and Kindaichi had a fight before you broke up, but was it really that bad? I know Kindaichi, he may only have one brain cell, but behind all that stupidity lies a caring guy. Have you ever... considered talking to him again?"

To say that she was shocked was an underestimate. Shiori was shocked beyond belief. Was Tōru, her brother, taking the side of her ex? To be fair, he didn't know the exact details of her relationship.

But Shiori was his sister. The sister that had been with Tōru almost since birth. They depended on each other. A dependence nurtured far stronger than something a teammate could attain.

The one that grows up in the same household. The one that has seen more of him than she ever wanted to. The one that had taken care of him and looked after him after he had lost to Shiratorizawa.

And yet he overlooked all of that and threw her into the pit of the blame for the end of their relationship. How long had he known Kindaichi when the both of them had broken up? Three years?

"Glad to know where your faiths lie, Tōru." Shiori looked up, her red eyes glittering with tears as they met his brown ones. "Our relationship did not end with a simple fight. In fact, if you were gullible enough to buy all of that plastic crap from Kindaichi, then I can clearly see that I'm not worth your attention."

Guilt started to eat up at Tōru, but before he could even open his mouth, Shiori was already up and out of the door.

*

Somehow, crying into her sleeve while walking down the street screams 'I'm single and I desperately want to find a boyfriend or at least a one night stand.'

Wanting to be left alone, Shiori had kept her head down and kept her sniffles as low as possible. Most people granted her wish, swerving around her, or just walking to the side of her, though there were a few whispers circulating about Shiori.

But not everything goes the way she wanted.

"Hey there sexy!"

"Babygirl!" The voice drawled on.

Shiori ignored it, slightly picking up the pace as she thought- no, hoped and prayed that it was meant for someone else.

But that didn't quite happen. A hand suddenly shot in front of her, effectively stopping her from going on any farther. A man of about forty years old was suddenly towering over Shiori, his hands surrounding her as he pinned her against the wall of an alley. As he leaned closer, the acrid stench of alcohol grew stronger and stronger as his smirk grew wider and wider. His hand was dangerously close to her chest, and fear was starting to overtake her.

Kindachi was first. And now, this was every girl's nightmare, right in front of Shiori.

"P-Please," she whispered in a low voice, barely holding in her trembling. "C-Can you j-just leave me a-a-alone?"

The man smirked before replying. "Well, the thing is sweetie," he stopped to savor the expression on her face as she took in the unexpected pet name. "You just seemed so sad and lonely, so daddy thought that he could help make you feel better. Actually, you could help me feel better as well."

She trembled, tears spilling out of her eyes as his hand started to get closer and closer to her shirt.

Shiori turned her head, trying to see if anyone nearby could help free her, or at least notify the authorities, but the man's hands were too close. Her head was completely stuck in place. Shiori could only stare at his ugly face, and he seemed to like that.

She needed to get out of his clutches. His hand was already on her shirt, fingers working the buttons, trying to get them undone.

Shiori pushed against his arm, but she just couldn't summon any strength. His arms were firmly in place, the button he had been working on already undone, and a sliver of skin peeking through the exposed cloth.

She tried again, this time with her legs. She desperately tried to raise her wobbling legs and kick him where the sun doesn't shine, but she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

Her legs were jelly. Fear had overtaken her completely, and she couldn't move at all.

She watched helplessly as he unbuttoned another, but even after all of this was happening, she was still too weak to pull free from his hold. Her hands were being held by him like a child with their mother.

Shiori looked up into his face again, searching for even a slight glimmer of sorrow or pity. But there was none. There was only one thing on his face.

Lust.

"N-N-No! St-Stop!" Shiori desperately screamed, but the effort seemed futile.

"Shh, baby, it'll feel good in a few seconds. Now be a good girl and hold still for daddy." He slurred out. His grip became tighter still on Shiori, and his hands started moving faster.

Buttons started falling apart, and the sound of fabric being viciously torn erupted inside her head. She could feel a tear slipping out of the corner of her eye. It was then followed by another, an another. But before the final button could be popped off, a clear voice rang out from behind the both of them.

Or... was it two voices?

"HEY!"

Shiori looked up, hoping the sound she had heard was real and wasn't some kind of cruel trick her mind was playing on her. But sure enough, she could make out two shadows emerging from the alleyway.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!"

The voices... they sounded oddly familiar. She racked her brain, trying to match the voice to her hero until...

The realization hit her like a sack of potatoes.

"There's no way..." she whispered underneath her breath.

But there really was. The voices she had heard were now able to be connected to the two people standing in front of her. The shadowy blobs had cleared up into the two volleyball players Shiori had grown accustomed with.

Kageyama Tobio.

and...

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

***

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