Part 4
"If you will do it, do it now! Otherwise, leave!"
"I have a use for you."
"Leave!"
The voice of the ghost from his past haunted his mind, enveloped his concentration as he drove home. The thought of his fiancé being pregnant and the no doubt violent rage that awaited him at home was in the back of his head. No, the young adult known as Shinji Ikari was focused on a man from the past, a man who he had not seen for the past decade, a man who still haunted him after all this time. A man with a long chinstrap beard, glasses, white gloves, and a cold, calculating glare that would leave you shivering in your boots.
"Father."
The father who abandoned him, who left him miserable and desperate in the world, alone, only to be a miserable wreck from childhood to adolescence. The horrors of Third Impact and the world that followed it had left him horror struck for the years after it, but every so often Shinji would remember the bastard of a father he had, unloving and uncaring. The only person he had ever met who had a kind thing to say about that man was Shinji Ikari's superior, the current Commander of NERV itself: Fuyutsuki.
Shinji remembered when NERV had first been recommissioned by the World Government. Fuyutsuki, who had offered an explanation of the whole ordeal of Third Impact, was allowed to lead the organization, especially considering how Fuyutsuki decided to lend his effort reconstructing the Japanese government during the horrors of the early post-Third Impact world. Fuyutsuki was quick to hire all the old members of NERV, including the Eva pilots. Maya had been put in charge of the science department, Hyuga had become one of the head tacticians, Aoba was head of Weapon Development and the unofficial musician for the NERV Christmas parties, Misato was promoted to sub-commander, both he and Asuka were given high ranking jobs. Their schedules, thankfully, rarely clashed, so if they did have a child, they'd be able to raise—
Father.
That set Shinji back on track. He remembered when Fuyutsuki had first hired him. Shinji had refused, or at least was hesitant. This was his father's company, not his. He didn't want to be reminded of that man, that bastard, anymore than he had to. It was then that Fuyutsuki had said, wearily, "You know, your father would've wanted me to give you this high paying job, you know? One day you'll know this."
The man who left him alone as a child for years, only called him when he needed him, and left him an emotional train wreck would have wanted him to work in a corporation that had been labeled, in the modern media, "The Modern Illuminati" and "The Founders of Third Impact"?
Yeah, that sounded like something he'd do.
Apparently Fuyutsuki cared so deeply about his father that he had erected a statue in his honor outside the NERV entrance. After all, nowadays NERV was a public organization, no longer a secret Government society. Because it was public, people walked by the statue of Gendo Ikari standing majestically every day, and, every day, someone would throw rotten fruit against its bust. While Fuyutsuki would sometimes personally clean the statue to ensure it was in pristine condition, Shinji actually wished that, one day, he could throw a giant watermelon against his father's face so that it would splatter against his nose line, covering his face in red as he shouted all the things he couldn't say a decade ago.
None of those unsaid words were all too polite.
Still, when Shinji's son—er, child—was born, he's make sure he—or she—never had to suffer that horrible fate of having a father ignore him, of abandoning him—or her—entirely. Still, raising his child the way he wanted to raise him would mean Shinji returning home to face his violent, ill-tempered fiancé. She sounded so angry over the phone, so entirely furious. What was he going to do? She wasn't the type to exactly forgive and forget quickly. Years ago, Asuka was a more violent individual, especially following Third Impact.
He pulled over at a supermarket, looking for some sort of way to stall, to escape needing to return home to face the horror of his German haired lover—no, good friend—no, acquaintance—no, mortal enemy. Anxiously, he withdrew his mp3 player, and escaped into the gentle music it supplied. His old SDAT player, even at the time he used it constantly antiquated, had vanished during the horror of Third Impact. He had sought to get a replacement, but, as it were, had never really came around to purchasing one. However, the mp3 player he used now was a gift from Asuka.
It had been a birthday present, his twenty first birthday. It had been a little more than a year or two since the world had fully recovered from the Hell of Third Impact. Most people often give others, on their twenty first birthday, something to signify the newfound privileges gained with their age. Toji, for example, bought him a pornographic DVD, much to both Hikari and Asuka's distaste. Kensuke, on the other hand, bought him a guidebook to the best bars in Tokyo-3. Misato had given him an expensive bottle of sake. Asuka would later joke that they were lucky that the bottle wasn't half empty by the time Shinji received it. Shinji expected things to allure him to the benefits of being an adult, but the gift that seemed to impact Shinji most was a gift that reminded him of the past.
"It's not like I needed to put that much thought into it," Asuka had rationalized after Shinji opened the present, turning the case over and over to see the present from every possible angle, "I just remember how you liked listening to that old tape player of yours all the time when we were younger. I mean, I knew that you wanted to have a tape player or whatever it was you had, but this is better. It has 100 gigabytes of memory, so you can fit a bunch of songs on it, and play some games like Solitaire on it. Also, it comes with a dozen songs on it, and you can play videos on it. So yeah, no big deal."
"How much did this cost?" Shinji had asked, worried that his friend had spent too much on someone like him.
"Why the hell does that matter?" Asuka snapped, "Look, you're actually caring about stuff like that? C'mon! Seriously! It's a damn gift! Never mind what it costs!"
Shinji could only stare at her in awe. Even though she had a confident grin on her lips, he knew that, deep down, she had been afraid that Shinji didn't like her present. That, below that harsh exterior, she had asked herself, day after day, would he like it? Would he accept it? "Thank you, Asuka!"
"Hey, seriously, don't mention it."
As he focused again on the reality before him as he picked up a package of miso, Shinji Ikari focused on a separate memory. He recalled a day after following the nightmare that was Third Impact. It had been a month after Asuka returned that either of them dared to leave the sanctuary of the beach. Why it had taken so long Shinji didn't know. He guessed that, after witnessing the world die before them, they really didn't feel like adventuring the depths of oblivion. Perhaps it was because the sea of LCL had provided for them so well, with crabs and sea creatures right there for eating and the LCL sea there for nutritious life fluids. Additionally, in Asuka's condition, she couldn't move all that far without her organs bleeding within her.
Shinji had been constructing a wheelbarrow of sorts to carry the German. He had constructed it from driftwood that had miraculously came to them from the sea about two weeks after Shinji had found Asuka beside him. Having nothing else to do, he whittled the log until it had depth, enough to cradle a human body. The wheel, thankfully, had washed up on shore not long after he found the wood. It was something you'd find on a big wheel bicycle a toddler would use. It wasn't the best sort of barrow, but in this sort of situation, it was the best he had.
"I won't go in that," Asuka had said the moment she saw Shinji's creation, her voice dead and exhausted.
"Listen, we're going to have to see if anyone else is here," Shinji had said, surprised by his own sense of bravery. After baring witness to Instrumentality, he had learned to face reality head on. The only way their situation was going to change for the better was if they faced the world head on. Shinji had been surprised that Asuka, who was always so gung-ho and always looking for a solution. She was never this passive, or perhaps hesitant to do anything, before. "You're too injured to walk. The only way we're going to survive is if you get on and I wheel you around."
"I don't care if I die," Asuka replied, in an almost dead voice, "Just leave me alone. I'd rather die than be with you."
"Listen! Please! Snap out of it!" Shinji had shouted as he had heaved the German to her feet, hoping she'd stand on her own two feet.
She hadn't.
Shinji had caught her before she had hit the floor. With a small grin on her lips, Asuka had asked, in a cold, strangely amused tone, "You mean you don't want me to die?"
"Why would I want you to die?" Shinji had stammered, now desperate, his eyes starting to tear.
"Why else would you leave me alone to die like that? Why else would you just jerk off on top of me, huh? Why else would you start strangling me the moment I came back to life? I don't want this. I just want to be left alone here, and die. Just let me shrivel up and die."
"Please don't talk like that."
"Why? It makes our poor little bastard Shinji the Hero get all upset? Do you want to cry, huh? Well, face reality: it's your fault I'm like this, why the world's like this! It's all your fault!" She had begun screaming as she slowly pushed herself into a standing position. However, as she continued to shout obscenities at the Third Child, she began to vomit on herself. Torrents of blood exploded from her mouth, dying the sand scarlet. She trembled, falling onto her back, clutching her belly. Tears filled her eyes, tears of pain, tears of fury and anger, tears that shone in the pale moonlight.
He was sure, then and there, that she was going to die.
"Please, don't die! Don't die! I need you. I need you. I can't just live without someone, so please don't leave me alone!" He had fallen to his knees, tears running down his fourteen year old cheeks as he stared down at the broken girl as she coughed again and again, more droplets of ruby splattering against her lips and cheeks.
"Well, isn't this what you wanted? Me like this? Dummkopf!" she had grunted between coughs, "I hope you like it. I hate you so God d—" Shinji scooped her into his arms. She was surprisingly light, much lighter than he had anticipated, as he dumped her gently into the wheelbarrow. "What're you doing? I told you I'm not—hyakk!!!" She coughed loudly onto her lap, a large wad of blood splattering against her thighs.
Shinji remembered praying that a doctor or surgeon had returned from the sea of LCL, just so that Asuka wouldn't have to die in a make-shift wheelbarrow in the middle of nowhere like this. She didn't deserve to suffer like that, didn't deserve to die such a sad, pathetic death like this.
She didn't deserve to suffer after all she had been through.
Shinji Ikari was pulled out of his flashback as the sound of his phone ringing filled the air. He hastily reached into his pocket, and withdrew his cell. "Hello?" he asked, not looking at the caller ID in his haste.
"Shinji! I just heard the good news!"
"Misato?"
A cheerful giggle met his ears from the other side of the phone line, a giggle that reminded him of all the times he had spent living at her house when he and Asuka were only fourteen and thirteen years old, respectfully. It reminded him, strangely enough, of a young girl, despite Shinji having, in memory, associated Misato as the closest thing to a mother he ever had. "Well, Asuka called me and told me the whole story. Or at least told me her side of it."
"Oh, did she?"
"Yeah, complete with calling you a few creative curse words that my kids have been repeating for the past ten minutes."
"Do you believe her?"
"What kind of a question is that? Of course I don't! I know you too well for that. I'm just surprised you actually managed to, uh, go to home base."
"Come again?"
"I can't say it with the kids around. Uh, hey!" Misato's voice faded away slightly, as though she were holding the phone a good deal away from her face and talking to her children. "Yumi, take your brother over into the other room, alright? Don't ask why! I'm having an adult conversati—no, you aren't grown up enough to know what it is. Thanks, sweetie." Her voice returned to its ordinary volume. "No, I mean, I never expected you to have sex."
"Wait, what?!"
"I thought you'd just remain a virgin for the rest of your—"
"Misato. Stop now."
"Alright, I'm just joking!"
"I hope you were."
"But still, what're you going to name the baby?"
Shinji considered this. "I haven't really discussed it with Asuka. Actually, I haven't discussed anything with her yet."
"Oh, did she kick you out of the house?"
"I haven't even gotten home yet. I'm a little afraid to."
"Well, you can't run away from this forever, you know. Best get the worst over with. She'll calm down soon, so don't worry."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Oh, absolutely positive! Asuka isn't the type to keep a grudge."
"Are you sure about that?" Shinji asked, seriously.
"Well, uh…" Misato's voice trailed off, leaving Shinji with the distinct impression she was struggling to buy time. "Oh crap! Ryouji! Stop hitting your sister! I got to go! See ya! Good luck with the preggy!" With that, the line died. Shinji personally doubted that she had any sort of problem with her kids at that moment. For a woman who told him not to run away, she sure was running away when he needed her. What a reliable adult she was.
After paying for his food, Shinji continued into his car, and drove back home to face the music, to face his destiny. His mp3 player was still playing in his ears as he rode back home, despite a perfectly good car radio and stereo system. All he could think about was that redhead. He tried to remember the last time she was truly furious at him, the last time she had been this angry. When they were younger, they had argued constantly, but, as time went on, these arguments seemed to dwindle. That's not saying they didn't happen frequently, though. For example, just a few months ago they had found themselves arguing about something trivial, something regarding food.
"You know I like my burgers with a little red in them," Asuka had snapped, staring down at the deep brown meet with a disgusted expression.
"It's healthier when it's thoroughly cooked," Shinji had replied.
"Yeah, but it's also all dried up! Do you want me eating a dried up burger like this?" she had replied, her tone harsh.
"Just put ketchup on it and it won't be dry. Problem sol—"
"Doesn't change the fact that the middle is still all brown!" Asuka had interrupted, violently, "I mean, seriously, I think the burgers at McDonalds are better!"
"Well, you could just order from there. Their burgers are thoroughly brown too, I think."
"Yeah, but it's also not really meat! It's some meat substitute they have with a lot of filler in it! And besides, it makes you fat."
"You seem to eat it enough on your way to work," Shinji replied.
At that moment, the German had jumped to her feet, crushing her burger underneath her fist as she slammed her knuckles down against the table. "Are you implying something!?"
"Implying what?"
"Dummkopf! You think I'm a damn porker, don't you!?" she had snapped, her face scarlet.
"Who ever said that?" Shinji had laughed in disbelief. Fat? Asuka was a stick. Her breasts probably contained more fat than the rest of her body combined, sure, but otherwise she was stick. Slender, svelte. When they were younger, there were even times Shinji wondered if she was too thin. In any case, the sheer idea that Shinji could even think, for a second, that she was fat was downright absurd!
"Don't you laugh at me! I—" A moment had passed where Asuka considered all that she had just said. More blush ran up her cheeks as she muttered, in a soft tone, "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"Doing what?"
The redhead had lowered herself into her seat, running a hand up her hair. "I'm just blowing things out of proportion like I always do. Say it. I know I'm right."
"Well, yeah, you are," Shinji replied.
She had sighed again at this, holding her head in both hands. "I'm just a wreck, aren't I? I'm never going to change. I'll still be just as much of a bitch as I was when I was a kid."
"Huh? What're you talking about?" Shinji had asked, confused.
"Do you know what I heard some people saying at work? They were talking about me behind my back! I heard them, you know. They were chatting away about that German girl who has trouble reading Kanji or that German bitch who was a pilot or that German bitch who thinks she's so hot."
"Who's been saying that?" Shinji had asked, critically.
"A bunch of the girls who work there."
"Do you know any of them."
"I don't know," she had replied, rising to her feet, "I shouldn't let it bother me, though. I'm better than that. I've grown up. I'm not a kid. I'm not a kid. I'm not a kid. I'm not a kid. I'm not—"
"You know, if someone hurts you, it's not immature not to feel a little insulted," Shinji had said, frowning, "In fact, I think it's kinda natural to feel something."
"But I don't like it," Asuka had replied, frowning as well, "I mean, why me?"
Why me indeed. As Shinji approached the door to his apartment complex, his bags in hand and his spirits tentative, he paused a moment to remove his mp3 player, ready to face reality. As he drew nearer to the door, he mumbled under his breath the mantra that he had recited over and over again throughout the course of his life: "I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away." He recited it again and again as he rang the doorbell with his elbow, unable to reach the button with his hands, laden with bags.
The door slid open to reveal the German girl. Just laying eyes on Asuka sent a jolt through Shinji's body. There she was, ready to beat him to a pulp, ready to shout and scream at him, ready to call him an idiot and remind him that it was his fault, not Asuka the girl who crawled into his be naked, that she had a baby growing inside of her. He flinched at first, instinctively, upon laying eyes on her flaming red hair. A second or two past before Shinji lowered his arms, only to meet his fiancé's eyes. They were puffy, but not tear laden. It was as though she had cried hours before, and the residual effects had yet to wear off. Cautiously, Shinji murmured, "I'm home," before walking anxiously past his fiancé into the kitchen. As he dropped the bags onto the kitchen table, he heard the door slide shut behind him. This was it. Asuka was going to pummel him now. She was going to shout now that the door was closed and the world couldn't see her ugly side.
"Asuka, I'm sor—"
"Don't apologize," Asuka replied, "Don't worry about it. I should be the one saying sorry."
"Huh?" This was a tad different than what he had been expecting. He had thought at least one piece of furnature would be overturned, a few shouting matches, and at least fifty verbal punches matched with fifty real ones. He didn't expect her to just admit defeat so easily. He watched as Asuka fell into a couch, her hands resting on her torso. She glanced up at Shinji, a frown o her lips.
"I'm sorry. I said it, alright? Isn't that good enough?"
"What do you—"
"You didn't do anything wrong, I should've been taking the pill, all that stuff, alright?" Asuka said, her tone mildly frustrated, "Jesus! How many times do I have to say this again?" Her voice cracked mildly toward the end, but her resolve was strong. Her eyes were growing slightly more moist as the seconds past, but her heart didn't waver. She stared at Shinji with a deep resolve, as though she were hoping, praying, that her eyes relayed the message deep inside of her: she was sorry. She was wrong.
She admitted defeat.
Shinji sighed in relief. "You know, for a moment, I was afraid you were going to kill me."
"I'd rather not have my baby girl not have a father," Asuka replied.
"Wait, who said it was a girl? It could be a boy."
"Yes, but it could also be a girl!"
"Are we fighting again?"
"We damn sure are fighting! I say it's a girl!"
"It doesn't even have a gender yet, does it?"
"You know, I honestly don't think so yet."
"We'll have more than enough time to realize if it's a boy or a girl, so don't worry about that," Shinji replied, frowning tensely.
"Alright, I guess so," Asuka replied, rising to her feet, her hands on her stomach, "I'm just bummed that I need to gain weight for this thing! That's going to suck!"
"You're skinny enough as it is. I doubt even twenty extra pounds would—"
"Twenty!? Who'd say I'd gain that much!?" Asuka's eyes were wide, as though Shinji had just informed her she was dying of terminal cancer. Shinji was mildly surprised by this reaction. You'd think that she'd know about this sort of thing seeing as how she graduated from a German university at the age of 13 AND was a girl.
"I thought everyone knew about—"
"Don't give me that bull! Well, if I am gaining weight for YOUR child, make me dinner. Now."
"You're saying that as though I never cook dinner."
"Yeah? So?" Asuka asked, in a rather harsh tone.
"Alright, my majesty," Shinji said in a sarcastic tone.
#
The stupid idiot was sleeping in bed next to her, but Asuka Langley Sohryu hadn't slept a wink yet. Her hand rested on her torso, absentmindedly adjusting the cloth around her belly. She knew that the baby hadn't even begun to develop yet, but she could almost feel the rug rat kicking. It was strange. Maybe it was a sensation brought up by paranoia, or stress. It was like being next to a sick person and developing a sore throat.
Still, she couldn't imagine herself being a mother. She didn't know the first thing about taking care of a child. What was she going to do? Feed it? Give it a nice, hospitable environment to live in? She could ask her stepmom, but she didn't want to really see her face right now. She knew she had to go back to Germany soon, though, if she was pregnant. Her family had the right to know.
Still, whenever she thought of Germany, the same memory returned to her mind's eye: the image of a doll dangling from a noose next to a limp human corpse, hanging from a similar noose, drifting back and forth, like a pendulum, dead, high above her head, high above the head of her child avatar. She cringed as the memory remained stuck in her brain. It wouldn't go away. It wasn't going away! The damn doll and the damn noose in that damned house! Damn them! Damn them! Damn them all!
She felt a tear roll down her cheek, a tear she brushed away aggressively. She wasn't a kid anymore! She couldn't just cry like that whenever something sad happened. She needed to be strong, stronger than anyone else. She had to be for her daughter—child. She couldn't become caught up in suffering, in the pain of memories of ancient history.
Memories of her mother.