Nerv: Dry Cleaning and Takeout

In the city of Tokyo, the lowly office worker is hardly a glamorous position. He works long hours for relatively low pay, but the job is enough to provide him with a stable living. God, however, must help him is he has a wife and two teenage children approaching the dreaded college years simultaneously.

Such is the case of one Gendo Ikari, formerly Gendo Rukubungi. He, his wife Yui Ikari, and his children, Shinji and Rei Ikari, live in a small rented flat with one bedroom in a crowded neighborhood. Every day, Gendo climbs out of bed while his wife and children sleep, makes breakfast and takes an hour-long commute to work, every day of the week, every week of the month, and every month of the year. As the corporate machine never sleeps, Gendo cannot rest. Yet, even the lowliest cog may have a dream. The Rukubungi family had been a clan of professional sushi chefs of the highest quality, and the Ikaris had been just another working family. Gendo gave up on sushi when he first met the young Yui. In their senior year in high school, she had been poised to drop out because her family needs another hand to work, though she dreamed of being a research molecular biologist. Gendo had found her crying in an abandoned hallway. Being so kindhearted as he was, though he grew up surrounded by bloody fish carcasses hauled in by the ton, Gendo had comforted her, and out of his own allowance squeezed out money enough that she could finish high school and earn a full scholarship to Kyoto University. It was a vital crossroads. If Yui went on to Kyoto, she would undoubtedly excel. If not, her talent would fade. Though the scholarship paid for everything, Yui's living expenses must be provided for. She cannot possibly devote herself to studying at the feet of the great Professor Kozo Fuyutsuki at Kyoto and work a job enough to support herself. For her, Gendo made a resounding sacrifice: he proposed to her, knowing that the Rukubungi matriarch, his stern grandmother, would instantly disown him. From now on, he shall forgo his future grandeur of cooking in five-star hotels and state dinners, of being revered as one of the greatest sushi chef in all the islands of Japan, and of all the benefits included. He will stop studying the art of making the Rukubungi sushi, and devote himself to supporting Yui's studies. To show his complete break with the ancient Rukubungi tradition, he even took on Yui's family name, Ikari. Many years have passed, and though Yui's research never gained them any fame or fortune, Gendo refuses to regret, even for a second, his decision to throw everything away for her.

Tonight was the same. When he stepped into the house, only Shinji and Rei were inside, intently working on some homework. Yui was having another long day at the lab, so it falls to him to cook again. Having greeted his children, Gendo stepped into the small kitchen (A closet with a stove, to be more precise) and whipped out a few pitifully scrawny little tunas, cheap rice and frozen vegetables. A far cry from his childhood days, working with fresh-caught, beautiful blue-fin from the vast Atlantic, to be sure, but his skills have made him famous throughout the neighborhood for better sushi than any store or restaurant for miles. He'd set up his own, if he had the money to do it, but he doesn't, so that was that.

And nothing changed in their daily routine. Shinji and Rei argued over complex mathematical equations, Gendo tried not to choke from the stove's fumes, and Yui came home just in time for dinner, tired but happy from a day's work with her friend, Naoko Akagi, chatting happily about abstract theories that Gendo happily shut out as simply more proof of his wife's brilliance.

Stage I: God, the Plane Tickets Salesman

"Dear…" Yui whispered into Gendo's ear. "The kids are two meters away."

"They're old enough," Gendo whispered back while playfully tugging his wife's nightshirt. "It was a hard day at the office today. Can't I get some reward for supporting this family?"

To be honest, the couple has had little time to be together since Shinji finally became conscious of his surroundings and began to wonder what mommy and daddy was doing at night (Rei had read all about it in some biology textbook, and understood everything without batting an eyelid when she was six…as to be expected of Yui's daughter.). Tonight, he and Rei were fast asleep. If they were quiet, Yui thought, then…

"Really fast, okay?" she said. "Don't make a sound."

"That's what I should tell you," Gendo teased as he slid his wife out of her clothes. Indeed, the couple was quiet in their passion. Being less physically drained than he was, Yui took the lead and gripped her husband, doing most of the work for him. He held her shoulders down, growling into her ear and thrusting up. As he promised, it was quick. When they were done with one another, they lay together, breathing hard.

"Dear," Yui murmured.

"Something you'd like to say, Yui?"

"You can tell?"

"I know you; there's something you'd like to tell me, isn't there?"

Yui kissed him lightly.

"Well, I…my research on S2 theory…it's…it's going to go through—"

Gendo swelled with pride.

"—but I'll have to relocate to America. I need the laboratory there…"

For a minute, Gendo was silent. He is on the verge of a promotion, which would move them out of the squashed apartment and into some better living quarters.

"They will only pay my own expenses…dear; I don't want you to have to start over again for me."

"We're a family," was all he said, before he went to sleep.

The next day was a day like any other. Shinji and Rei squabbled like any other siblings, Yui left at the crack of dawn, and Gendo made breakfast before going to work…

But God! What can he do? He certainly will not tolerate being separated from his wife, but at the same time, what can he do to keep his family alive? She had told him that after two months, if her contributions proved useful, she would start getting a better salary and housing for her family. Gendo had no doubt that she will succeed. His Yui always did. He'll manage alone with some lowly job, but the kids…the kids have always chafed for the outside world. Going to America would be perfect for them. Both of them spoke good English thanks to the rigorous standards of their school, and math and sciences—the better-developed nations of Asia laugh at America's standards of education in these fields. No problems there. All he needs is to find something in America that will feed and shelter the Ikari household for two long, long months. For him, a man with nothing but a high school diploma and a love for sushi, this was easier said than done.

"Lord, I'm the only thing missing from the equation," he rasped. Too much time spent around a scientist wife and brainy children has more influence than one may expect. "I'm the problem. I've never prayed, I've never gone to Church, yes, I did steal my brother's candy when I was nine, but if you exist…if you're real, help me make a decision."

His phone rang.

"Hello! This is Japan Airlines calling with an exclusive offer for overseas family travel! Call now to save twenty percent today by booking Japan Airlines for up to four seats!"

God…exists

End Stage I