30 Kisses, 30 Ways: Shinji and Asuka
Themes: K#27 (Overflow), W#22 (Beautiful)
Title: The music of Asuka Langley Sohryu.
A.N.: I shall use this space to cover my own ass: Not mine. I'm attempting to get out of this writers block, so I'm gonna take 2 challenges at once: 30 kisses and 30 ways in one story. Hope you like.
During instrumentality an infinite number of worlds were created; from the Edo period to the end of the millennium. All of them different, all of them unique.
But all those worlds have one unifying rule in common; in every single one we met, and invariably, we fall in love. And sometimes we hurt each other.
And we connect to each other deeply.
Worlds made with both you and me in the center.
That's the single, unifying rule. (Retake 04)
"Are you ready?" Kaji asked with his eyes, in silence, not emitting a word lest he breaks the concentration that seemed to emanate in weaves from within the red head prodigy in front of him.
Asuka smiled and nodded, her auburn hair bouncing playfully, making a sharp contrast to her clipped, stern face.
Kaji exhaled slowly as he saw her walk towards the center stage, slowly nearing the center stage, walking towards into the light. She stood in the center of the light disc on the floor, looking straight into the eyes of each and every one of them, unflinching, unapologetic.
A beat, a heartbeat filled of silence and anticipation.
Then, she curtsied, smiled a hollowed, wooden smile that did not reach her eyes, and bowed.
And her face became once again emotionless; she closed her eyes, rested the violin against her cheek, and began.
Slowly, the sounds began to fill the void; sluggishly, the intonation felt like it was being dragged through mud, a slow crescendo barely there, barely noticeable in every other revolution, almost as if it were a sluggish, hairy caterpillar slowly making its way, the passage of time not bothering the pace of the music at all.
Her face was still a stern, emotionless façade.
Suddenly, a transformation; slowly and small, the tune began to change, a metamorphosis taking place, faint, diluted sounds made way to clearer, sharper strings, more defined notes, more brisk allegro notes; small, gentle, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, taking the first tentative flaps of her wings.
But still, the music did not reach her face.
Slowly, the people attending the concert began to see that same small butterfly take flight, the repeating tones of the violin mimicking the flaps of it's wings, and then they became aware of the back ground sound of the full orchestra behind the redhead who was standing in the center stage, eyes closed, fingers dancing, flowing like solid water across the strings, swaying to the music emerging from within herself.
And yet, if they watched with attention, they would see no smiles, just the forceful scrunching of her eyes, almost as if the force of the music was too much to bear, to carry on her own body.
The loud rich notes of several other strings, metals and wind instruments began to wave a rich tapestry, almost materializing the woods, the trees, the clear blue sky for the small, delicate butterfly to fly in them; the tempo quickened, and the butterfly became a bumblebee; buzzing, busy little bee, tracing a path, dodging webs and rain and wind.
And still her face remained a mask of marble, impassive, detached.
But for the audience, that was never apparent.
She played slow songs, and fast songs. She played grand noble themes, and tunes that were dripping with force, with an unbridled passion, like a wild stallion on the great, wide divide.
Her face held on.
Her whole body trembled with the force of her won music, and if anyone would open their eyes and look carefully at the girl, they would notice the music was almost visibly sweating through her pores, a sense, a feeling so great, so undeniably strong it was overflowing her own self, like a big bright fire, consuming everything in it's wake.
She forced her own body not to react to the calling of her own music.
For hours and hours more, she graced them and dazzled them. She brought them to ecstasy and beyond. She made their eyes bleed tears of joy and pain as she expertly, methodically, efficiently plucked their souls in the same way she plucked the string of her violin.
She held the music, her dazzling music at bay, bending it, forcing it to do her bidding.
She made them bleed through their eyes what she bled through her fingertips. All the music held within, all the passion inside of her; all the feelings all the venom, all the bile and the happiness and the mirth. She used the small, wooden instrument like a medium, the thin, razor like strings as a way to convey all the flurry of emotions that were crashing inside of her.
She frowned as she felt the last drop of it seep away, flow from her tips to the bow, from her fingers to the strings; she felt it combine, lime an old, forgotten alchemical process and become something new, something unique; something that defied description and categorization.
For hours upon hours, she held their conscience, their very soul in her grasp, and she played with them all, and in the end, as always, they all got up and gave her an standing ovation.
And still, her face never shifted fro the ever-present frown on her face.
"Nice going, Schatz." Kaji told her, as soon as she walked back to the stage. She sighed, but didn't say a word, instead going straight to her dressing room. Kaji saw her, for the second time today walk away, her back stiff, almost like a soldier marching to certain death, not even bothering to turn back.
He frowned; something had to be done about her. He knew the death of her mother had affected her deeply, but perhaps what affected her more was the choice of her father remarrying again, perhaps what affected her was the way her stepmother tried so hard.
Maybe it was all that and maybe it was nothing at all.
"Hey gorgeous."
Kaji smiled despite himself at the sound of the siren calling him. He turned to find the ever present playful smirk of the lovely face of Misato Katsuragi, her tight black evening dress fitting like a glove, making her look extremely sexy, provocative despite it being floor length, and with no plunging neckline, nor an open back; basically the only skin shown were her long, white arms.
Still, he couldn't deny the immediate reaction she got from every heterosexual male in the room; even mousy Hyuga, his reliable assistant was transfixed with her.
She looked beautiful.
"What? No greeting for me?" she asked with a playful pout that made the suave promoter brush his unruly hair back, a playful, roguish smirk on his stubble-covered face.
"I would give you more than a greeting if we were alone and you know it." He began with the smooth talking, deep smoky tone he knew she loved so well, to then envelop her in a friendly (maybe a tad tight for friendly) hug.
"How you been?" She asked smiling.
"Working, which means I'm babysitting the prima Donna you just heard." He replied easily, walking through the backstage towards the visitors lounge. "What about you? Still working as a high profile baby sitter for that jerk?"
"Yes she is, Mr. Kaji." A low, but deep rumbling voice answered behind him. "Although I still go by Dr. Ikari, thank you very much."
Kaji sighed and turned to face him, a charming smile on his face even after the dreadful faux pas.
"And it is lovely to see you again Dr." He bowed traditionally at the imposing man flanked by a couple who seemed to be the same age as Asuka.
Almost as if he had read his mind, Ikari introduced them. "My son and adopted daughter, Shinji Ikari and Rei Ayanami."
"Pleased to meet you." Kaji said as he bowed again. "So what brings you here?" He asked once the pleasantries had been out of the way."
"We came to enjoy the music." Ikari said calmly. "When we heard your German prodigy was in town I decided to come and see if she was worthy of all that praise."
"She does live to her reputation." Rei said softly, and Gendo allowed himself the smallest of smirks before continuing.
"My son was so entranced by her I instructed Miss Katsuragi to grant him a quick interview."
Kaji turned to Misato, a small smile on his face; it held no emotions behind, it seemed mechanical, almost as if someone had drawn it onto his face. "Did you now?"
"Of course when she knew she will have to speak directly with you, she more than jumped for the chance to get us all tickets for the concert."
"And I thank you for your patronage." Kaji said bowing formally, like an actor after receiving a prize. "However I'm sorry to inform you and your family Miss Sohryu is not in the best…disposition to greet fans."
"I'm sure you can arrange something."
"When she is in that mood she will only communicate in-"
"Shinji is well versed in Japanese, English and German, which I believe are the languages your charge expresses herself in fluently."
"Mr. Ikari."
"Dr. Ikari." He stressed the Doctor, and Kaji sighed, remembering why it had been difficult to work even as a third party for this man; his reputation preceded him, and he always did get what he wanted.
"Dr. Ikari." Kaji matched his tone and words. "May I know why you seem so…interested in your son getting to know her?"
"I have no need to inform you such things." He finished with clear intentions, making Misato blush and try to sputter a response. Before she could however, Ikari turned around and walked away.
"Katsuragi, deal with this, I saw an old acquaintance and need to speak with him." He said offhandedly over his shoulder, just as he clapped his hand over a gray haired, distinguished looking older gentle man referring to him only as "Professor".
Before Misato could begin to try and explain herself, Rei spoke up as well.
"I too, will be leaving." She said as she walked towards the back door, before leaning closer to Shinji and whispering something to him, something meant only for the two of them, but Kaji caught the way she spoke silently, and how Shinji could only stare and nod.
Kaji redirected his attention to Misato.
"So."
"So." Misato said forcefully, intent on saving face against him. "About what that Jerk-"
"He still goes by Dr. Ikari." Kaji playfully reminded her, earning a small smile for Shinji and a glare from Misato.
"Yes, any way he-"
"It's nice to see you again." Kaji interrupted her again. "And it will be no problem for me to introduce the young Mr. Ikari to the lovely Miss Sohryu. She was having a rather hard time earlier, but…" He leaned at Shinji, whispering softly, looking at him in the eye.
"I'm sure you can help her have a great time."
Shinji blushed and sputtered a response; thankfully, Misato came to his aid.
"Yeah, Shinji you can show her those things you do with your fingers."
Or not.
"But before he does…" Kaji smirked lazily. "I want to know why you want to know her so much." He directed the question at Shinji, and he gasped at the bluntness of it.
"W-well I…" Shinji began hesitantly. Stopped, took a deep breath and composed himself, waiting for his hands to stop trembling.
"You see, I knew her before, we met once, back when my mother was still alive." He began again. "Her mother was a guest at the institute and somehow both our mothers coincided at the same place."
Kaji nodded, signaling Shinji to continue.
"We met several times while they stayed there, and her mother and my mother became good friends, exchanging letters. My mother would always use talk about me and would ask Mrs. Sohryu about her daughter. She never had a chance to go to her funeral, but entrusted me with something to give her."
"Why couldn't your mother come?" Kaji asked.
"She died a few months back." Shinji answered simply, but he could see in his posture, in his hands and face and just by the way he was standing it still hurt.
A lot.
"She knew the fire had been devastating, and that Mrs. Sohryu had pushed her daughter out a window into the cold water just as the fire began to make the timbers of the lake house fall on top of her." Shinji continued, more calmed now.
"She wished she could have been by her side, but the cancer had debilitated her to a point when she could not even hold a spoon to feed herself." Misato added, whispering the last part.
"On her death bed, my mother told me that when I had the chance to see Miss Sohryu again, to give her this."
He took a carefully laminated picture from within the inside pocket of his suit jacket, followed by a small envelope. He handed it to Kaji who opened it up, unfolded the first page, read…and stopped short.
It was the last letter Kyoko Zepellin Sohryu had wrote to his mother.
In it in precise, beautiful and tight handwritten cursive letters, she spoke of the general happenings. She told Yui that she was having more and more problems moving around, and that she had decided to go to her old lake house to spend some time relaxing, noting that Asuka might be there, and that she might, at last tell her truth.
The truth was that Kyoko had ASL, not a full paralysis, but enough to be an impediment to be at her daughter's concert. She knew it wounded her, but kept it a secret from her, under the guise of too much work.
She told Yui that she knew, given Asuka's attachment to her, she would quit the music world if she ever found out to take care of her, and she could never do that; She knew Asuka's music was something beyond, and she felt an obligation to the world in making Asuka show them that.
But on the last two pages, Kaji saw the regret that she had, how she had wanted all that time to be on the same stage as her daughter, crying with the rest of the people enjoying her music, how she praised and call her her little treasure, her small miracle.
Kaji could literally see the tears streaming down Kyoko Zepellin Sohryu's perfect face, the tears streaming down Yui Ikair's high cheekbones. He read the paragraphs and immediately felt like a burglar, a prowler robbing Asuka of memories that should be hers. He finally understood the thin red thread of fate that was woven to connect these two souls.
"Misato…" He said as he folded the letter and gave it back to Shinji before cupping his back and guiding him towards the door fo Asuka's dressing room, ignoring his mumbled protest and how his heels dug on the floor to prevent this from happening. "I feel like getting a drink, and haven't had a Yebisu in years…"
He gave a final push after opening the door, ignoring Shinji's lowly yelp of surprise and closing it, before turning to Misato, offering her arm.
"Care to join me?"
Shinji stood there, not moving, not knowing what to do. There was nobody inside the dressing room, and for a moment he was unsure if he had understood correctly what Kaji had told him; was she in her room? Was she going to be coming any minute now?
He took the moment to look across it, drinking in every small detail.
She was a contradiction.
He got near the vanity mirror in the far end of the room and saw that it had nothing more than the clothes she had been wearing.
Her violin laid in the middle of the mess that was her room; strewn across it were the dress she had been wearing, the shoes and the stockings bunched in one corner; the steam coming form underneath the door signaled she was currently taking a shower.
Shinji paled at that; how could he have not noticed? He turned around with the intention of leaving, but instead was staring the brightest, bluest eyes he had ever seen.
They eyes of a scowling Asuka Langley Sohryu.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" she asked in a forced, clipped and obviously displeased way.
Shinji could only stare at the girl in front of him, clad in only a pink towel that reached mid thigh, her hair enveloped in a similar towel that had some tendrils escaping from within it. Her skin looked flushed, no wonder from the hot water she had employed to take a bath.
Shinji could only gape at her undeniable beauty, even when not clothed (In fact, especially when she wasn't clothed), and had no make-up of any kind, she was a sight to behold; past the radiant blue eyes, and fiery red hair laid perfect alabaster smooth skin, like creams and peaches, and her lips-
Were still moving.
"I asked you what the hell where you doing here!" She asked again. Normally, she would have shouted at the top of her lungs, and Kaji would have barged inside, grabbing this pervert by the collar and throwing him out, however there was something…soothing about him, she felt she had met him before.
"Hey idiot! You speak English? Dummkopf! Sprechen Sie Deutsch? Anta Baka! Nihongo wo Hanashi Masuka?"
"Uh…Yes, Ja, Hai…"
She stopped short, surprise etched across her face. "Y-you…" She began, liking her lips in anticipation. "You understand me?"
Shinji looked at her blushing. "You might not remember me; I'm Shinji Ikari." He finished before thrusting his hand towards her.
A thousand memories came back; Memories of him, sitting next to her, laughing in dull sounds, memories of him, smiling, trying t cheer her up, memories of him and her, pushing him away, angry at him, at her mother, at the whole world.
Memories of her good bye, and the soft, chaste kiss she gave him on the lips.
"Sh-Shinji... kun?" She said in dull sounds, her tongue not used to talking after her eardrums had exploded, plunging her into a world of silence only her music, the music of Asuka Langley Sohryu could break free.
Shinji nodded, smiling, and that was all she needed.
She launched herself at him, hugging him with such a force he felt his bones turn to dust, like she wanted to fuse herself, mold with him, become only one.
And in the midst of it all, she gave the him the most perfect, mind blowing, searing, hot waves crashing stop-the-world kiss he had ever had (conveniently, the second one he had ever had)
You see, Asuka had been born like a normal baby, but suffered from a severe from of tinnitus.
Her eardrum had distended earlier on her childhood, and by the time she had reached her mid teens, her hearing was lost on a 20 percent. By the time she was on her late teens she was deaf, but she played the most beautiful music other ears had ever heard; sublime and poetic, lyrical and exhaling; her music was capable of bringing people to tears, eliciting a standing ovation whenever she played.
And for the first time after the death of her mother, she was with someone who knew what she had went through, who understood her better than anyone else, who spoke her same language.
You see…Shinji Ikari, like Asuka Langley Sohryu, is deaf too.
AN. I don't really know how this came into fruition. I guess it's the perks of letting your body sit in a computer and let it just…type away…
Tinnitus is the name of Beethoven's hearing impairment, this story might have repeated elements and themes of 10 things, since I have been forced to attend classical music concerts by school (I'm not complaining, in fact it's a great exercise trying to describe music using words) I know the whole concept of someone who is hearing impaired playing music is ludicrous, however a close friend of mine who was born deaf would tell me in sign language that she loved to strum her guitar simply to feel the vibrations of the strings. She still comes to my house when I'm back home and when we talk, she would put her hands on my throat to feel the air coming through it, trying to vocalize what she feels.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an update for Love and Hate to do.
