Athletics
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Disclaimer: Neon Genesis Evangelion belongs to Studio Gainax and Hideaki Anno.
Rating: T (Some disturbing images)
Notes: It's probably pretty obvious, but for the record, this is my first Evangelion fic. This fic goes out to anime-freaksg, who introduced me to the big, bad world of Eva.
"What I've found is that I'm never more alive than when I'm pushing and I'm in pain, and I'm struggling for high achievement, and in that struggle I think there's a magic."
- Dean Karnazes
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Hurdles
Her eyes remind him of shallow ocean water: the colour of the swell just as it slips away into sand. They're darker than candyfloss, a shade lighter than blood. He's still thinking when her entourage of medical staff wheel her along the corridor. Their eyes meet for the briefest of moments, but he panics and focuses instead on the arch of bone above her eye. She doesn't say anything about him getting into Unit-01 on her behalf. He doesn't bring it up. Wheels whine, doors drag shut, and he's alone in the corridor. The light bleaches everything a flat, violent grey.
Vault
She can hear the breath rattling in his throat as he leopard-crawls back to the positron cannon. Captain Katsuragi instructions echo in the background. Above, the smoke from a hundred burning trees hangs over the Futayogama hills like a fog. It's not over yet, she thinks. She peers over the ridge, sees over the shoulders of hills bowed and slumped in fire – sees the glassy surface of the Fifth Angel decorated by bent skyscrapers. She's still staring at the enemy when it blinks like a star once, twice. It's instinct – the Commander's omniscient voice, a desire to complete her mission – that makes her grab the shield, bound over the hills. She throws herself in front of Unit-01, holding back the apocalypse with nothing on her mind save one protocol: I will protect you.
Sprint
The command sounds. The stopwatch activates. He rises and runs, the ground shuddering beneath his feet. He chops his arms, cutting through air and clouds. Even though his legs don't move in the entry plug, they tremble with effort. As he storms up a mountain, lactic acid encircles his calves like the tendrils of cold fingers Each rapid-fire intake of air scrapes at his lungs. But he doesn't break stride, doesn't slow. He sees the discoloured eye of the Tenth Angel falling and he thinks: I have to get there before her. He crests the last hill and throws his arms up. His AT field materialises above like a garland. In a breath, she's there beside him, their arms aloft, the two of them holding up the sky.
Walk
The wide, open sky is darkening at its edges when he asks her: "May I accompany you home, Ayanami?" He doesn't get an answer, but she doesn't push him away either. So he falls into step behind, letting her lead the way to the metro. At the platform, she stares at the advertisements on the far wall. Once, she releases the tension in her neck, and he sees the sharp cuts of her shoulder blades through her pinafore. He tries to imagine both of them alone in this gushing mass of commuter traffic, fails and resorts to fighting for standing space on the train. Still, in the crowded carriage, they stand together, and he's grateful for the gentle pressure of her thigh against his.
Hammer
He's spent so much time in the dark that he's beginning to see light: flashes, sparks, long streams of flag-like shapes waving. It stinks in the entry plug, and when he breathes, he feels like there are bodies pressed on his chest. In the haze of exhaustion, he clings on to his last thoughts from before he decided to engage the Twelfth Angel. The images he sees are pure and distilled. Misato's sharp smile at his last sync test. The sloping curl of Asuka's eyelashes up close. And, finally, the pale skin above Ayanami's upper lip, resembling a smile. Deep within these recollections, he feels something shift above him, fingers on his wrists, touch falling away. He summons the remaining shreds of strength and seizes it, and pulls and pulls, never letting go.
Throw
Things don't look good. Pilot Ikari's whereabouts are unknown, and the armless, headless Unit-02 sits on the battlefield like a rotting chunk of meat. This time, she knows she might not return from the fray. Still, returning is irrelevant. She tucks the N2 mine in the crook of Unit-00's armpit, loosens the tension in her arms. She sees an infinity of mirror images of herself reflected in the glass. When she charges, casts her deadly cargo forward until her arm buckles, she reminds herself: I can be replaced. But in the bright blast that wipes her vision clean, the reflections fall away, the strain in her only functional arm reminding her she's still here, still alive.
Javelin
Again, she's called onto relieve Unit-02, a looming red chunk as motionless as an ornament. She imagines of the pilot within, tries to clean her thoughts of any malice. I'm just fulfilling my duty, she thinks. Now, in the powdery rain, guided by a hundred streams of data, she hoists the Spear of Longinus above her shoulders. The orbiting angel hovers like a lopsided moon in the clear sky. I will not fail this throw. And in one swift move, she swings, hurls, and lets her arm follow through in its arc. The spear shreds clouds like wadded tissue paper and punches the Angel out of the sky. Staring at the Angel-less horizon in a plane of sunshine, she thinks: what a beautiful day.
Relay
The Sixteenth Angel's form cuts straight into her abdomen, slicing through armour and flesh. She feels her entire world descend into a montage of insane images: red seas overflowing, thigh-deep water slicking off her waist in tongues, a visage of herself floating, corpse-white, aglow – She emerges to see her hands veined and trembling. Then, she notices Unit-01 to her right, grappling with the Angel's sinuous body. She pulls the rope-like body back into her, and activates the sequence to self-destruct. Fat droplets fall from her eyes, and the last thing she remembers are the words pouring from her mouth: "Ikari. Ikari." She speaks these words, but she can't be sure who she's referring to. A flash, and everything explodes into white. Then she sees nothing but black.
Jump
She feels like she's somewhere else, in somebody else's body, watching the world shatter and decay. Wasn't she dead? Didn't she die to save Pilot Ikari? But she's still here, her once-patterned hand now luminous like a pale star in the night sky. She watches the Commander gun down the Doctor, hears him beckon her. He asks of her what she had already been prepared to give long ago. But when she feels the flesh of his flesh pulse within her, she doubts. She reconsiders. She refuses. She decides. She sees the Commander's face in a loose pendulum of shock, clutching his hand. She's in the air, calling out to creature before her, whispering, "Ikari is waiting for me."
Marathon
He sits on the beach, dazed, his ragged breaths coming in short-lived clouds. A spiral of pain works within his legs, a painful little explosion of overused muscle and firing nerves. He gets up, trudges towards the shore, leaves his wounded companion sprawled in the sand like an elegant ruin. Here, at the point where waves bully the beach, he sees her: she's standing over the ocean in a halo of light, as pure as a mirage. "Ayanami," he says, and she extends a porcelain arm to him. He stumbles towards her, water sloshing at his knees, the surf grabbing at his throat. "Ayanami," he calls again. He edges towards her, yearning for her fingertips. When he finally reaches her, he's floating, free.
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End (Edit: 14.09.2013)
End Notes: This piece was not beta-read. It probably could've been better if it was though.
The Shinji/ Rei relationship is a little open-ended on purpose, because I believe that you, as a reader, are quite capable of coming to your own conclusions of what went on. I'm don't like to spoonfeed people with facts and details. Also, the idea behind this fic isn't original: I wrote a gymnastics piece for the Bleach Community on LJ. But I particularly enjoyed writing this because it was spawned from a idea I had while running.
Some questions to help me improve: is the context of each section clear enough? Are Shinji and Rei realistic, as characters? Is the 3rd POV effective in explaining the characters' relationship?
Thanks for reading! More Eva fics to come!