Disclaimer: I don't own Evangelion and I don't do this for personal profit. If you're upset about something you see here, e-mail me at the address listed under my account.
Neon Genesis Evangelion
My Own Personal Revolution
"You say you want a revolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out
Don't you know it's gonna be
Alright"
--The Beatles, Revolution
On the fifth of May, Asuka Langley Souryu was shot. I know because I was there. I know because I saw it happen. Maybe because I let it happen. My name is Shinji Ikari. And when you say it you better fucking whisper.
I thought about changing my last name for a while, I really did. I was thinking about changing it to Ayanami but it just seemed a little... weird? I guess after everything that psychopath put us through I wanted to do anything I could do to escape his memory. But one day, searching through the National Tokyo Library, I came upon a study in an obscure field of quantum physics by a little known PhD at the time: Gendo Rokubungi. I must have forgotten that he took my mother's name; not the other way around. That's why I keep it. A little pride maybe. But mostly it's the memory I have no intention of escaping—the memory of a woman who gave us everything and asked for nothing in return; memories of a woman who sacrificed herself for a better life, my life.
In a few days I'll no longer be a college freshman at Tokyo's New Keio University. In a few days my new, dull summer job is supposed to begin. In a few days, the six of us are about to complete a legendary year that would live on in Keio myth long after we graduated; stories both true and false that would circulate forver thanks to the rest of our peers, things not even Misato would have believed if she'd heard them. In a few days, I'd become the man no one could have imagined back at NERV. The one who would have stood up to his father—the one who did not take anyone's shit. The me I would sometimes imagine Asuka falling in love with. But right now. Right now I'm a little busy. You see, I'm bleeding out actually—dying. D-Y-I-N-G. I know, right? Who would have thought? Me. Invincible Shinji finally lost.
And to be perfectly honest, this whole dying thing? It feels... really, really easy. A lot easier than living ever was.
First Revolution: I'm still attached.
They say you never forget your freshman roommate from college but they never say why. They never tell you if it's his bad breath or his awful taste in music. They never tell you if it's that toothy grin he makes the first time you crack a joke or the particular way he arranges his utensils in the cafeteria. You hear the horror stories and the life-long friendships too and you're left in this no man's land, wondering which variety you'll end up with.
In fact, you truly don't know until those first moments when Misato is ducking out of your room after that sort of awkward hug, brushing tears from the corners of her eyes and you hear the warble of Osaka slang that's not quite the act Touji's is but it's still something familiar and amusing to the ears.
That was the moment I first knew we'd be friends. When he kept going on about the "smoking hot babe" who dropped me off and asked if she was my girlfriend; not just to humor me but because he really didn't recognize her. It was the way he didn't go all googly-eyed when he did recognize who I was or start asking any of the awkward questions about a time in my life that is by no means the highlight everyone assumes it to be—the glory goes hand in hand with the pathos when it comes to the Eva days and, that is something all three of us pilots can vouch for.
No, he's not like most of the people I've met. He's very relaxed, full of smiles, with a nervous slur that wiggles into the southern slang when he gets excited. In some moments he's oddly reminiscent of Kensuke's enthusiasm when he's got his camera in hand but it's much more open and welcoming. Perhaps even like Kaoru which sends a tremor through my hands before I can trick my mind into never making that connection again.
His black hair is unruly, thrusting in several directions, his skin tan from too much time spent lounging on the beach and not enough time working the shitty summer jobs I suffered through before arriving at Keio. He's describing his first girlfriend in high school and what a psycho-bitch she could be to him and suddenly I realize the knot in my stomach is unwinding, heartbeat slowing back down again. I realize what a huge relief it is to have a new friend at school, not just Touji or Kensuke or... well not her, no. And Kazu is not some leech either, only interested in attaching himself to "Shinji, the myth, the mystery, the man." He's really just another normal guy, just like myself, full of flaws and goodness and humanity. Or at least, I really want to believe this is true.
Our first time in the cafeteria goes by awkwardly with at least two pairs of eyes on me at all times and enough whispering to make me genuinely uncomfortable. Kazu must see the way I start to shrink down in my seat, wishing my hearing was not quite as good as it is; he doesn't ask me "what's the matter" (thank the heavens!) but starts using mouthfuls of food, ugly stares, or wild gesturing to distract what feel like a spotlight enshrining me on the plastic chair and linoleum floor. I try not to lift my gaze from the dinner plate except to return his inquiries and sometimes not even for that.
Eventually he gives up trying to annoy everyone else in the room, which he was achieving semi-effectively, and works on distracting me instead. I'm not sure whether or not I appreciate this either.
"So, I heard there's a bunch of other people from your school enrolled here too."
It's not really a question but he's staring at me, waiting for an answer.
"Yeah. A few." I'm trying not to count the number of times I've heard "pilot" in the last half-hour and failing miserably: forty-seven. Forty-eight now thanks to a Russian girl in the corner of my eye who is a head taller than anyone else at the table and looks like she's ten years older than me. I curse being a late bloomer and I curse my good hearing again.
Kazu waves a hand in my direction. "Hey! Were you listening to me? I asked if you knew any of them?"
"These people?" I wearily glance around the room and catch several embarrassed-looking faces turning away from our table.
"No, stupid!" he laughs, but I can tell he's just trying to cheer me up. "I meant people from your high school. Do you know anyone who came here?"
Slowly the antenna retract from the room and I try and remember what I was doing with the glass of Coca-Cola in my hand. Drinking it or something like it.
"Oh. Yeah, I know some of them."
I pause, looking up at an exasperated Kazu, his chopsticks frozen in some steaming udon that does not taste like real udon because it most definitely isn't.
"Like names? I assume they have names, being people and all."
I snort despite my ill will, and something like a smile must come sneaking out of my mouth because Kazu brightens immensely when I look at him again.
"Yeah, uh, Touji Suzuhara. He's here on a basketball scholarship. Kensuke Aida is in the film school here. Hikari Horaki, she's pre-law I believe."
Kazu makes thoughtful sounds behind mouthfuls of teriyaki. I find that smile sneaking up again, watching the way he eats—it is, by Tokyo standards, absolutely ridiculous.
"Say," he says, looking up slightly as if recalling some other high school story. It is sort of. "Wasn't that Suzuhara guy, wasn't he going to be a pilot as well?"
Shinji I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner—the Fourth Child is... he's.
"You okay?" Kazu's leaning over both of our trays, face uncomfortably close with a nervous smile. I recoil away.
"Yeah it's just." It's just I hate those fucking memories. "It's just, don't talk about him that way. As a pilot I mean." I don't elaborate any further.
Kazu looks only moderately hurt.
"Oh. Sorry."
"No, forget it," I say, knowing he won't and maybe wanting it to be that way.
He brightens as if the moment never happened, humming some tune to himself in between mouthfuls that once again puts me on the verge of a smile that I now most firmly believe should not be there.
"Wasn't the other pilot at your school too?" he says around a mouthful.
I try so hard not to sigh at this. Keeping my expression as neutral as I can, I nod.
"She's here too right? I mean, she graduated with you guys, right?"
I'm trying to remember why I ever thought Kazu wasn't the prying type.
"She already had her college degree before coming to Japan. But." It's almost like I don't want to admit it's true. "Yeah, I think she's here too."
"You think? I thought you guys, like, uh..." he says and then realizes that he's stumbled into dangerous territory from the look I give him.
"Lived together? We did for a while. Not afterwards. We... drifted apart."
"Oh." He doesn't look hurt this time, only curious. I feel partially thankful for that and partially angry too.
"Asuka, right?" he says after a moment of digesting what I'd said.
"Yeah. Her." I can't keep my tone neutral this time. As we leave I know I will always hate eating at the cafeteria.
The auditorium full of bright-eyed freshman, nervously mingling and talking, smelled of too much perfume and hormones and I, for one, am glad to have left early. Kazu was falling asleep during the principal's speech about the newest generation to make our country proud and blah blah blah who the fuck cares, Keio's the best and all you other schools are sucky imitations, etc., etc. I was just glad to have them paying attention to someone else in the room.
I spot Touji and Kensuke milling around the entrance and the two shout my way when they see me.
We introduce our roommates to each other, forming a little squad of six for the time being. Touji's roomed with a shy, good-looking guy who's on the swimming team. His eyes look a little glazed over from all the excitement and I get the distinct feeling he doesn't want to be here—college that is. Kensuke's roommate is a loud-mouthed literature major who takes up most of the conversation making fun of other people he's seen around campus today. I roll my eyes when he's not looking and Touji smiles a little, shrugging. Everyone seems to like Kazu though. He's not overly annoying like Daisuke, who cannot stop talking about this hot girl he saw earlier now. And he's not like the swimmer, Ryo, who seems unwilling to add anything unless directly asked.
I keep reminding myself that these guys have never met any of us and not to take their nervous social forays (or obviously insecure, in Daisuke's case) as anything other than students just getting to know each other.
Touji yammers on about some lousy summer job he had that actually sounds worse than mine. Kensuke is excited about a new project he's working on with some other guys in the film department and he's trying to get us to volunteer our time to help him—he's already promised Touji a part if he'll help lug equipment. Before I can even begin to talk about the summer spent living with Misato, which I can already imagine all of them drooling over, Daisuke's yelp catches our collective attention.
"There!" He's jabbing his finger across the lawn. "There she is man!" he whispers. "That's the girl I saw today."
All I see is red hell. She looks up and for a moment her face fills with recognition but then she's looking away, walking past as if she never knew any of us. She's alone, which I expected. And she's wearing a skirt one size too small. Which I also expected.
"Did you see that!" Daisuke's practically hopping up and down. "She looked this way!" he squeals.
I'm deeply considering saying something to N2 the conversation into oblivion when Kazu cuts in.
"Off limits, man."
"What?"
Daisuke whirls his gaze off her ass receding into the distance.
"Don't tell me one of you is already hitting that?" He frowns.
"That's the Second Child, idiot! The Eva Pilot!" Kensuke says, borderline furious at his new roommate.
All five of us nod when he looks around the group.
"Shit!" He kicks some dirt and then looks up at me. "So I guess you two are already—"
"We're not. By all means, feel free to try," and I sputter into jealously before I can say anything further, jealousy for which I will wind up hating myself over tonight.
"It's your funeral," Touji says sagely.
"Why? Is she like a bi—"
"No." And I instantly regret as it leaves my mouth and everyone is looking at me again now. Why am I sticking up for her? Why the fuck should I care what they say about her? "I mean, I don't know, yes. She's high maintenance. Or something," I mutter, mostly to myself.
Daisuke, ignores how uncomfortable I must look. "But you never—"
"No. Never." I'm relieved that I feel nothing as the words leave my lips.
"Well..." He grins, cracking his knuckles.
I glance at Kensuke looking at me through wide-rimmed glasses, apologies written all over his face. Touji is just brooding and and only Ryo seems interested in the exchange.
After a few partings words and a whispered apology from Kensuke we head our separate ways. When we get to our room I drag myself into the shower while Kazu tries to finish unpacking. I masturbate with the new shampoo I bought and imagine Misato bent over in front of me, begging for more. I feel a little guilty as I'm toweling off but exhaustion takes over and I hit the bed around midnight. Before sleep takes me, I try and remember what I thought I would feel like, my first day as a freshman, and I find myself strangely disappointed that I've lived up to my own expectations.
I try and convince myself tomorrow will better and it doesn't work. I'm not a very good liar.
A/N: I know I'm supposed to be working on "A Thousand Years of Secrecy" but I'm a bad, bad man. I wrote this when I got tired of trying to engineer the complexity that is that story and I finally gave in to the yearning that I really want to write a first-person Shinji. As a rule of thumb, this will be my pet project for when I'm stumped on Secrecy. In later chapters there may be some collegian behavior and if that offends any of you I've probably already turned you away with all the bad language. But if you're uncomfortable with drug references, sex references, underage drinking you'd better steel yourself now because it is firmly part of the college experience and you'll wind up in the middle of it one way or another. Unless you go to some lame ass college. :P
Don't forget to get your dads a card. Father's day tomorrow.
Peace.