Do Not by fabLER
It had been written in one burst, without any aim or structure. A stream of conciousness, formed literary, even mistakes were saved (in the original fic). Too many obscenities and offence actions with characters of origin is placed.
As Kaji has drunk to remove the hangover, he remembered. Fucking yes! Not at all, of course, but how he was drinking deadly and did something wrong. Parts of memories flashed in his mind... With an uneasy premonition he came to the bedside table and check his gun. The charger is out, the cartridges is counted. Fuck, no! One cartridge is missing. Of course, it might be an only shoot in the air after he grumbled with Misato and hit the bottle for this occasion, but something told him: a horrible thing happened. His head was a fucking mess. 'I need to drink more,' Kaji decided. His head would not clear, but the pain would shrink, actually. Returning to the kitchen, he took the 0,25L-bottle of vodka from the fridge, poured the glass, and had it. Burning liquid fell down, ruined all on its way. It seems he killed somebody. But now he was ready to die himself, and hoped alcohol would revived him. Fuck... Yesterday he shot somebody. Not a Nerv security service agent, but a familiar person. Wonder who could it be... Kaji took his cellphone. Let's call to them step by step...
'Misato'. Voice dial didn't work. Ryoji cleared his throat and repeated, trying to pretend his usual easy tone in spite of shit in his mind and soul:
'Misato!'
Dial went on.
'Yes, fuck!' answered the phone. 'We had talked much yesterday, leave me alone, fucking womanizer.'
Kaji threw his phone to a fucking wall. He didn't kill Misato. Alas... Now he should call from the cable phone. It cost more. Alas, again. Ritsuko.
'Yes, Ryoji?' It is better when there is another word after 'yes', not a 'fuck'. He did not talk to Akagi. Let her play with her cats.
Maybe he had done old Gendo?
No way. He would not wake up with rather untolerable headache in that case. Correctly formulated, he would not wake up at all. So, call the next.
Rei? Screw it, unlikely. Where could he meet her? Yet, to be sure, not a one choice can be thrown. Leave her for dessert. And serve it with her beloved vegetarian salad.
Shit, the head is still in pain. Waiter, another vodka!
Fuck, yes! Yesterday he was sitting in a bar. Now he is sitting on the floor, with phone receiver squeezed in his hand, in only pants, tortmenting his mind about who was shot well yesterday. Swaying, he went to the kitchen.
The vodka was over.
He never felt himself so fucking sick. Not for the thought of another corpse. He went to the bathroom. There was the bottle of cologne in the locker. Misato's gift. Bitch! He ever joked then, about her always giving a cologne, as if he was a completed drunkard. And Misato was hurted.
She never understood his jokes. Fuck her! He sick and tired of her. Of everybody... Oh, shit... He have never thouhgt he would drink 'Troynoy' in the morning. Morning, evening, fuck it! So it goes. Fuck my mind... He barely did not vomited.
Fighting against uprising sickness, he almost crept to the room. He called Misato again. Bitch... But now he called on a city number.
As predicted, the answer was Shinji.
'Yes, Shinsie. This is Ryo... ji.'
'Kaji-san, are you alright?' uneasy voice was heared.
How he fucked him up, that minor cocksucker! Fucking Mother Theresa.
They all fucked him out.
But he did not shoot him. Kaji felt irritation again, with a growing sickness.
'Yes... Lissen, Shiji, is there Az-ka?
'No, Kaji-san,' kid's voice became more anxious. 'She went out lately and have not returned. She said she wanted to see you. I had tried to talk her out of it, told that you were with Misato...'
Kaji would listen no more. He threw the receiver off and vomited hardly. With a green face and a weak legs, holding on walls he made his way to the door. With the only one thouhgt in his head...
Oh, shit. There was she lying at the door. The red hairs were in the blood, the pale face was surprisingly calm, as never in her life. The eyes impressed a bewilderment and turned to a glass.
Kaji fell on his knees. No, shit, just not that...
He instantly understood how it happened. The silly girl could not stay at home, she pulled herself to him through the night, most likely because she had known he was with Katsuragi. She was jealous and ran off. And that junior jerkoff surely couldn't stop her. She did not find Misato here. She screwed and leaved, she always did it...
He wasn't a womanizer. It was only a screen, and behind it there was the lonely, defenseless, hurted and scared boy. It was a mask for everybody, accreted to his face so hard that it could be removed only with his skin. Actually, he have never been happy in love. She who he loved came with her own problems whenever she wanted to, then took what she needed without a word and went away, leaving him and those problems all alone in desperate climbing up the wall.
And she who loved him came up and saw his hysterics... Fuck it! What else could he do when that cheap cunt Misato... his beloved girlfriend... told him that it's all over.
Asuka saw it and tried to help. But he was so mad, that when her attempts became too insistent, he took out his gun and shot her in the head. Just a dully shot in the head. He killed the innocent girl. The foolish red-headed bitchie who had believed in a beautiful legend of the valiant knight, and for him she could be nice and soft. Only for him. And then she would see him in all his glory. There is no more fucking maskes when you laugh frantically, and tears stand in the eyes glowing with an amazing mix of hate and desperation, so... fuck it.
He could not let anybody see the ugly face in scars and in pain, hidden under the mask.
Then he went and drank fucking dead. Even he did not know, that...
What?
It's all.
Fuck it.
There is the shell. All must be matched, thought he with a mad grin. There was enough of that fucking suffering. Why hadn't he die long-long time ago..?
At least, from now he would lie down next to girl that really loved him...
NO! That loved the role he performed! Not him, but his MASK! The heart-rending shout escaped from Kaji's chest, then, in a moment, the gunshot sounded.
Shinji lay down and listened his player. His eyes were shut. The strange smile wandered his face. He was proud as hell by himself. It was a smart work... It was clear, that the reaction of that drunk infantile pot-doer woud be foreseen easily. Never mind... Asuka was killed from his own gun. He would never wriggle out of that shit.
What a miraculous escape from the problem, the boy thought and smiled sweetly.
Still waters run deep, remembered he.
Do not underestimate such an underage bastard cunt like him.
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