A seven year old girl ran through the woods away from the shouting, away from the fire, and away from her old home. Her ash covered torn play dress flew behind her, somewhat restricting the movement of her legs.
She hated it.
Despite what her legs and her lungs told her to, she didn't stop running. She had to get away. Her father could come back and take her away if he knew she didn't die. Or those loud sirens could be the people her father told her he would take her to.
Her dress got caught on a low tree branch and it ripped as she fell to the ground. Her long hair that had fallen out of its braid covered her face as the dirt got into the wound on her cheek and she quickly got to her feet, not bothering to dust herself off.
All she heard was the loud thumping of her heartbeat and the lasting ringing in her ear from the gunshots.
Finally, her legs gave out on her and she fell down again.
"Ow," She mumbled as she looked down at her arm.
There were burns trailing up her arm. New ones. Dirt covered them and she looked around.
She heard the sound of water trickling nearby and she followed it to a small creek. She tried to kneel down by the side of the water but her foot slipped and she fell into the water with a yelp.
Not for the first time that day, she cried.
She lost everything.
With tears still running down her cheeks, she lowered her arms back into the rushing creek water to numb the sting of the burns. She didn't bother moving from her place in the water.
She put a hand to her cheek and winced at the pain. The water seemed to clean the wound but it still hurt.
Pushing the pain aside to the depths of her mind, she tried to do the one thing that Seiza always told her to do in situations like this: analyze and adapt.
For the first time, she thanked her sisters habit to be paranoid. Seiza was always anxious about being in situations that were life threatening and bought many books about survival and life tips. One of them happened to be a nature guide that Sora had read when she was bored and her father wasn't beating her or making her study.
She took a sip of the water out of curiosity. It tasted bad but at least it was water, right?
Hoisting herself from the water was hard after being so content to sit there and die. But she knew she couldn't. She had to take down her father first.
She tore the bottom of her wet soaked dress and wrapped her arms up as a makeshift bandage. The bottom of her dress had been black like her sisters dress. Looking at the black bandage on her arms looked somewhat aesthetic to her. She brushed it off, she could think about that later.
She was in the middle of thinking when she heard a low growl behind her.
Turning around, she was met with the vicious teeth of a wolf. It was brown and had a slim body with a short tail. It's claws were shinny in the evening sun as it stocked towards the girl.
It stared at her for a moment before it stopped growling. The girl didn't pick up on it and only made a run for it. She left the wolf behind, leaving it confused and dazed. Thinking about why a young human pup was all alone. She wouldn't have been able to answer that question herself for a long time.
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It was a week later and she regretted running from that creek. It was a water supply and a she ran from it all because of a stupid dog.
Her long hair was tangled and fell loose down her back, the ends touching the ground as she sat on the dirt covered forest floor. Different berries were layer in front of her that she'd plucked from different bushes as well as their leaves.
She was trying to remember the steps of finding out if a wild plant was safe to eat.
Going over the steps again in her head, she went through the strenuous hours of safe checking each plant before coming down to about three that she was sure were safe to eat.
Finding her way back to the source of the berries, she plucked a whole bunch and stuffed them into her pocket for later.
She began to aimlessly walk away, eating at a few berries trying to stop her hunger.
There was the small sounds of chewing in front of her and she immediately fell into a crouching position. She crawled forward without making so much as a sound and stopped in front of a bush that she carefully moved aside.
There was a deer grazing on the small patch of grass by the base of a tree.
She felt her stomach growl again and she knew she would have to eat something. Steeling herself as much as possible, she pulled her hand into a familiar position as her bow appeared. She pulled the string back and a normal arrow sat in the arrow shaft.
Breathing a slow careful breath, she aimed. She hesitated to let go and for a second she almost put the bow down. But her fingers slipped and the string cut the pads of her fingertips.
The arrow flew through the bushes, piercing the air with a whizzing sound.
It missed the deer and hit the tree next to it.
The deer shot it's head up and stared at her, then ran into the forest, away from her.
"Dang it," She sighed.
She looked down at her hand and scowled as small drops of blood fell from the pads.
Looks like she'd have to stay hungry for a little while longer.
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She laid in a tree with her back against the trunk as she tried to fall asleep as tears fell from her eyes down her cheeks and her stomach ached from hunger. The cold air bit at her limbs as she shivered, her body wracked with sobs.
Thankfully though, she wasn't thirsty. It was three weeks later and she had managed to find a small pond where she could drink the water after cleaning it to the best of her abilities. Her necklace kept giving her away to animals so she kept it stashed in her sock so she wouldn't loose it.
Nightmares were a common problem and she rarely got sleep.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of pained whine from an animal echoing in the darkness at the base of the tree. Looking down, she saw a fawn on the ground that seemed to have an injured leg.
Trying to stay as quiet as possible, she held her hand up as her bow appeared. Pulling the string back, an arrow appeared in the arrow shaft as she took aim.
She breathed as steadily and deeply as she could and held it as she let her fingers go.
There was a sharp cry of pain and then a beat of silence. She climbed down from the tree and found the deer limp with an arrow in its stomach.
More tears fell from her eyes as she layer over the dead animal. "I'm sorry!"
She cried for the dead animal and thanked it for its meat as she started to dig a small hole and gather dry sticks and leaves in a small pile, using the soft glow of the moonlight to guide her steps.
Carefully, she made a fire arrow. She didn't have much experience with fire arrows as she did with normal ones. Her mother always warned her of the dangers of fire. She stuck the fire arrow into the small pit of dry sticks, lighting them ablaze.
Being a small child, she didn't have much strength, so pulling the animal onto her lap and pulling the arrow out of its stomach was a taxing job.
She skinned its hide and cooked the meat.
It wasn't the best meal she ever had but at the time it tasted amazing. Using the deerhide as a blanket, she curled into a ball by the fire and fell asleep.
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Insects ate at her skin as she tried to sleep again in the tall tree. Her back laid against the trunk with her feet laid out in front of her while she used the deerskin as a blanket. She was a small child so it fit her body. Her arms itched irritatingly with bug bites.
She didn't want to scratch at them, knowing it would only make it worse and the itching would go away after a few days.
Days.
The thought that she'd be here days later made her head hurt.
She wanted her sister and her mother.
Her tears dried and she didn't have any more to shed. She had more pressing matters to deal with other than her grief. She learned this when her crying caught the attention of a black bear. What a nightmare that had been. If she wanted to make that man pay, then she had to survive.
Grief and guilt could come later, she promised.
She ate her berries in her numbness, not knowing what else to do. The survival book had a lot of information and most of it required getting the attention of people for getting rescued. She didn't want that. She figured that people probably thought she was dead, she wasn't dumb. What evidence did they have to make them think otherwise?
Plus, her dead status could help her in the long run. She'd find her way back to the city where her mom and sister used to work and look for her father.
But that required finding a river.
One that would lead her upstream to the city. But then what would she do? She was a child who looked like she'd been through Hell. She was. Her dress was torn and ripped up, covered in dirt and ash. Her arms were scarred and wrapped with the black ends of her dress, her black cardigan sweater was lost after she ran into the forest. She somehow misplaced her shoes and was left in her blue socks. The long hair that she used to wear in a loose braid was undone. It looked like a rats nest since she hadn't bathed in weeks. There was now a long scar across her cheek and on the shelled helix of her ear.
In short, she looked like shit.
She pet her hand along the deerskin blanket, the soft fur provided comfort in some way. It was then she realized that she really liked soft things.
Looking up at the stars felt painful now. No longer did they share the same familiarity that they once did. Not even the constellations that she could recognize. Her sister had once told her own that her name meant "sign" in english and that her name meant "sky".
Her dull eyes trailed each constellation as her outstretched finger traced them. She counted the ones she could remember.
The name that her mother had chosen out for her became the one thing that kept her company as she fell asleep that night. The only thing she could rely on was the sky and it's stars.
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Trying to navigate the forest was getting easier and she could now tell the time by the position of the sun. The moon also helped her keep track of how many months had passed.
At the moment, it had been eight months ago she had a home.
She was trying to find her way back to the creek where she could hopefully follow it to a river that she could then track upstream.
There was now no more time for grieving her loss, she promised herself that it could come later when she had the time. Right now it was time to hunt.
It was something that she had grown better at, stalking unaware animals and hardening her heart so she could eat the meal that fate had brought her. She always thanked the animals after, knowing they too had souls and emotions.
Her ears picked up noise ahead of her and she dropped down to a crouching position and made sure that she was upwind so the creature didn't smell her.
The deerskin lay on her back like a cape and kept her warm in the chilly winter air.
She crept forward without a sound and peeked through the thicket. There was a rabbit grazing off of the small patch of grass that peeked in the snow.
There were snow patches everywhere but never where she stepped. She didn't like making noise. Not even against the left over leaves from Fall, her feet were light and silent.
The rabbit was pure white and had a small pink nose with large ears that stood up on end. She felt her stomach growl lowly. Food had been getting more scarce as animals retreated for the winter.
Quickly, she pulled her bow and pulled the string back with the arrow nocked. Letting go, she pierced the rabbit and claimed her game.
She made sure to eat it all, not saving any for later.
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Winter got harsher and harsher as snow began to fall, layering the forest floor with white cold crystal. She'd recently caught a bigger deer and skinned that one for a bigger blanket. Holding it around herself, she walked through the woods.
The snowfall had stopped and she could finally look up and see clearly.
Her eyes widened when she heard it up ahead. Racing forward, her feet felt numb to the cold and she almost slipped on some ice but she saw it.
The river.
It was wide and large, the size could hold a sail boat if anyone wanted to go sailing down. It wasn't yet frozen over and the rushing water ran quicker than she could see. Kneeling by the bay, she took a few sips of water, the coldness shocked her awake and alert.
Getting to her senses, she climbed away from the bay so she wouldn't fall in and began walking with serious vigor.
She'd be there soon.
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Buildings came into view, and for the first time in almost a year, she saw civilization. She ran into an alleyway and looked down at herself.
She'd grown at least an inch but was still considerably short. She still looked like shit. The burns on her arms had healed but she still kept on the black makeshift bandages.
Although, she could tie her hair up.
Using a small strip of the cloth, she tied her waist long hair up into a half-assed ponytail. She wandered the back alleys of what she thought her mother and sister had called Musutafu city.
Eventually, she found a beach.
Or what she thought was a beach. It had sand, and if you got through all the garbage, you could see the ocean. There were even a few palm trees.
But there were piles upon piles of garbage and trash that people had thrown away.
When she looked at all the deposed objects, she only had one thought, "Those jerks! Not only did they throw away perfectly good items that I would kill to have, they ruined the beach for everyone!"
She walked through the dump and found a deposed of cotton sweater that was many sizes too big for her. Being the indifferent seven year old she was when it came to clothes, she tore off her old dress and pulled on the sweater. She was beginning to hate dresses.
Too restricting.
She found herself lucky that day, because as she kept looking, she found a pair of small female leggings that she slipped on after tearing off her old dirty socks.
The cotton red sweater wouldn't stand out too much in a crowd as it didn't have as many stains on it as the black leggings. It went down midway to her knees but she didn't mind it much as she still had full movement of her legs.
Although she was skinny from the lack of meals, she had been doing a lot of exercise and was in shape for the most part.
Now all she had to do was find a hair brush.
Picking up her deerskin blanket, she walked through the dump and found a banged up pink hair brush that she used to comb out her hair.
She had to pick at her hair and pull out small twigs and clumps of dirt, but in the end her hair was combed. It was still greasy and she still smelled awful but at least she looked halfway presentable.
Strangers looked at her weird as she walked down the street. She didn't know why. Was it because she smelled bad? Or was it the deerskin blanket wrapped tightly around her arms? She didn't understand.
One lady came up to her and asked where her parents were.
Rude?
She didn't go up to others and ask them personal questions.
All she replied with was, "Where are your parents?" And proceeded to walk away into the crowd. She wasn't worried about getting kidnapped. The deerskin would make anyone wary and the fact she was in a crowd of people also helped.
Being snarky felt good, though. It helped release a little bit of stress. Maybe she'd continue.
One guy then had the balls to try and grab her hand to lead her to a hero or a cop to "help her".
Heroes
They were the ones her mother had called for help. They were the ones who weren't there on time to save them, leaving her all alone.
Her sister and mother were the best heroes in the world and no one could tell her otherwise. All the others were fake. Pretenders who only wanted money or fame.
She wrenched her hand free from the man and ran away from him.
He tried to chase after her but a year of running after rabbit and other animals gained her new speed and she disappeared into the alleys.
They'd never understand.
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It was over a year later and she was still alone. She was content to just staying in an alleyway or the occasional abandoned building.
She'd found another blanket after searching the dump more and now she laid in the corner of an abandoned warehouse on the floor wrapped up in blankets.
Spring had come again and the sun's warm rays cast down on the streets, covering them with security and warmth. Cherry blossoms, once her favorite flower, fell from trees as the the flowers were in mid-bloom.
Today was her birthday.
She turned nine today and she just wanted to cry. She couldn't cry. There were better things she could be doing like getting food or searching for Sorin.
She didn't call him father anymore. Now he was just Sorin.
Her hair grew longer and she had trouble taking care of it. She had snuck into the gym not far from here and used one of the showers.
She didn't have that much soap, just whatever anyone left behind.
At least she was somewhat clean and didn't smell like death anymore. So that was a small blessing.
She got up from her corner and picked up her blankets, stuffing them into a large grey college backpack that she found in an alleyway.
Walking down the streets, she got looks from adults for her choice of clothing. It was April, the beginning of Spring. The air was warm and she was still wearing a sweater. She hated it.
Her necklace jingled as she ran through the streets to avoid staring eyes. She no longer had to worry about spooking animals so she moved it back up to its spot on her neck.
The necklace, which now only held two charms, missing the third, was a comfort to have on and she fiddled with it as she slowed down.
She peered around her and her eyes landed on an alleyway. Mostly what was in it.
Curiosity piqued and she couldn't resist. She walked into the alley and got closer to the dumpster. There, laying against the wall, was a guitar case. She kneeled down and opened the case, finding an old acoustic guitar laying in the velvet interior.
Pulling out the guitar, she sat down on the ground and placed the instrument in her lap.
Memories flooded back of learning to play all different kinds of instruments. Piano, viola, flute, bass, but the one she liked the most was the guitar.
She looked around, trying to see if there was an owner who would be angry that some girl was touching his things, but she didn't see anyone. It was then she noticed the notecard in the back of the case.
Please take care of this guitar. It's played so many notes and I hope it'll continue to play as my own fingers have grown old. Time has not been kind and I doubt it would ever be. At least let the guitar continue to play it's beautiful sound.
-Akra Shona
The note was cheesy but well written and it made her heart pang with sadness.
With small tears in the corners of her eyes, she looked down at the guitar in her lap. She strung the strings.
It was in tune and the sound was as beautiful as the note said.
Maybe her ninth birthday wasn't so bad after all.
____________________________________
Trying to track down a man without any leads or connections was harder than previously thought. All she had was her excellent and sharp memory, her ability to retain knowledge and learn quick, her guitar, and her grey backpack filled with notes, blankets, and food.
She'd started leaving her backpack in places she was sure no one would find, while free running the rooftops searching for the face in her memory.
Thinking about it, it would be strange to look up and see a nine year old in an oversized sweater running on rooftops without fear. She didn't bother thinking about it too much, though.
If her past memories of torture served her correctly, she was supposedly looking for a group called the League of Villains.
Sorin has spoken of the group only having two current members and an info broker on the outside. Apparently, it was funded by a man Sorin often spoke very highly of. All for One. He'd often threat to take her to that man if she misbehaved or told of her abuse.
However small the numbers were in that group, she knew best than to underestimate a person.
She didn't even know if there had been any additions to the group, the last time she heard of them was two years ago.
A lot can happen in two years.
She learned that the hard way after her time in the woods with her additional time on the streets.
Curiosity often filled her mind when she wondered how strange she must now look. Long auburn hair with a hint of red, dull grey eyes that searched for clues, dirt and scar covered skin, oversized clothes draping over her. And a scared cheek would be a cause for suspicion to anyone.
Her sister had once told her about money and how everything needed to be payed for and not taken and when she asked how one got money she was told you had to trade services or goods. There was no way in Hell she'd get rid of the deerskin blanket. that thing was like a shock blanket when she woke from nightmares.
So she opted for the next best thing. Music.
Street performance was a difficult thing. She still had the stage fright from when she was younger. Then she'd remember the advice her sister had given her when she was scared.
The streets weren't pretty, so she'd close her eyes and picture herself somewhere pretty. Somewhere safe. Somewhere she could be happy and not worry about anything.
She blocked out the noise of the busy road and the murmuring of the many passing adults. She took a deep breath to steady her voice.
And plucked the strings.
She didn't hear anything but her own voice, as smooth and clear as honey, and the soft notes of the guitar as she sang the songs that came to her head. Her music spoke the words of her heart and trauma. A story of fire.
When the song was over she'd open her eyes, finding tears running down her cheeks, and find a small crowd of people around her with yen being placed into her guitar case. Small applause on the sidewalk drew more people over to watch.
Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as she whipped her face and thanked them profusely for their compliments and money.
She'd save up the money for a cloak or maybe some new clothes. Whichever one was fine with her. At the time she just had to continue working hard.
Grief and misery could come later, after justice was served. After everything slowed down, she could cry properly then.
Until that time came, she'd just have to be patient and content with silence.
She always lied to herself.
Hey guys so this is a long chapter and before I get to the authors note I wanted to mention that my friend just started a book for the Supernatural fandom and she's talked to me about it and I think it's a very interesting concept and she has an amazing imagination for writing. She's new to writing and doesn't think it'll go good and I want to show support. Please check her out if you're into the fandom and show her the love she deserves!
merpstyle
Holy shit this was a long chapter!
This took me two days to write!
Do I regret it, no I don't. It was fun and the background of Sora's childhood was important.
There's a lot of trauma...
I hope some of you noticed I didn't use her name once during the whole chapter and yet you knew who I was talking about🙃
Do you guys think I did good with this?
Classic traumatic childhood cliche?
Todoroki rip your heart out.
This isn't even the half of it guys.... there's more.
Did you enjoy the angst?
There's a lot of it.
(4328 words)