Chapter 35: The people fight back against lies and injustice
One thing makes Shinji stand out as a not simply good but amazing character not just in his show, but all of Anime and animation for me if no one else, is his amazing virtue to turn the other cheek. Which very, very few characters even in well written series can do.
Most characters choose to go after pointless acts of revenge that only make things worse when they are wronged far less than Shinji.
Ash, Light Yagami, Lelouch, Char Azanabe (Gundam), even Kirito Kazuto's first instict when someone does anything wrong to them, be it insulting them, harming their loved ones, or even just upstaging them is to seek revenge. They try to hurt the person who hurt them even when they know this will at best accomplish nothing.

But here is the thing. When you punch a bully who punched you, even if you win the fight, you will only hurt your own fists. The bully will be badly hurt. The only way for the situation to end peacefully is if no one gets hurt.

Or if you go and insult someone who insulted you, you have just proven a point that you are no better than the insulter. The hurtful words you say will also be redirected back on to you.

They say life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react.
The world in Evangelion is on the verge of ending.
It is not the time for petty vendettas and unnecessary meanness.

If the characters in Evangelion just formed a strong community and banded together for the greater good, someone might see something is up with NERV and be able to prevent the next impact.

Furthermore, one of the cleverest plot points in Evangelion is the inclusion of Rei and Kaworu as good Angels. Even the creator intended for them to be unsympathetic villains, but instead they come of as two of the nicest and kindest characters and two of the only people to treat Shinji with humane respect that every human deserves.
This is a subtle hint that the Angels are not the main problem plauging mankind since there are at least some good Angels or some that can be turned to the cause of humanity.

When two Angels are treating an abused and neglected child with more dignity and decorum than his own human father, and when the same two angels who were created to destroy the world end up wanting to save it instead, you know something is wrong.
It's ironic. Rei and Kaworu were created to destroy the world yet they end up saving it and restoring Shinji's sanity through their kindness.
While Asuka who was recruited for the supposedly noble goal of protecting the world, ends up being the one who perpetuates its destruction through her rampant and sadistic mistreatment of Shinji all for the sake of taking glee in his suffering.
It is a clever metaphor that the humans created their own problem.

The NERV Independent: Factual News sourced responsibly for the reading pleasure of the masses.
December 05th 1999: Today's headlines.
Esteemed Female gentry throws away more money on filthy beggars lined up by first class suburb
A high-class daughter of two wealthy nobles was spotted giving away a large pile of cash to scruffy beggars lined up on Gentry drive this morning.

She was identified as Hitomi Shizuki, daughter of Duke and Duchess Shizuki and heir to their massive estate which rivals even NERV#s official headquarters in extravagant fanciness.

According to the witness who cannot be named for legal reasons, Hitomi reportedly told the dirty wretches being handed vast sums that "social class didn't matter" and that all were welcome to return at any time to her should they find themselves in need once more.

A spokesman from the remaining loyalist party of NERV stated that this was an offensive act of the highest order of treason to the higher classes. "Of course, the lower classes deserve our scorn while the upper classes should have it all" he claims.
No further action has been taken as of yet following NERV's crippling defeat at the hands of the social revolutionary Squid girl's army

Lola POV
I choke back a sniff as I dismiss my husband Angelo and my other friends to board their plane back to America. Our work in Japan for now was done. We had intercepted enough supply convoys and breached enough gaps through their defenses to drive back the remaining pockets of NERV resistance that still resisted the new leader Squid girl's earnest attempts at diplomacy.

Our momentary farewells bid, I step away from the airport entrance to flag down a cab.
"Mitakihara city. Magi Magica district. Gentry drive. Number 77. Please be as quick as you can. Arigato"
I humbly order as I slip on my seatbelt with a shaking and sweaty palm.

My Japanese has gotten better in these past few weeks. Though it is still lightly accented and there is still the occasional grammatical error sprinkled here and there in my dialect despite my best efforts.
I hope it will be enough not to disappoint the nicest, kindest, most gentle woman in all Japan that I'm making to pay a visit to. A visit that's already been delayed a great deal too long and that will only become more difficult, the longer I wait.

Granny Madoka's time as a magical girl was not easy.
It ate up all her attention and forced her to become a stranger to even those companions who cared the greatest about her while being freeloaded upon by one arrogant jerkass after another.
Chief among them, a certain short blue bobbed bully that could be confused for the heroic Rei Ikari were it not for the devilish demeanor in her deceitful countenance.
As Madoka's blood descendant, I've been forbidden from speaking her name despite her once holding court with my long past grandmama.

Seeing the same shade of blue in Rei's hair even knowing Rei to be a wholly other persona nobly undeserving of my prejudices, it still makes me feel uneasy.
But it's too late for rumination now as the solid gold paved promenade of the aptly named Gentry drive comes into view.
The sins of the mother and father need not be those of the child.
Shinji and Rei stand as proof of this incontrovertible truth as I too intend to through my careful choices.

One's children were not their children but the sons and daughter of life's longing for itself.
I would do well to remember this as the ride drew to a close with me already becoming breathless and hot from the cramped and poorly ventilated cabin of the rundown car that had clearly already long outrun its intended lifespan. These were trying times for everyone.

I tip the silent driver a generous sum and wish him well with a cautious shake of hands as I steady my nerves and step out of the vehicle.
I watch as it speeds away into the distance and do not look away until the sound of its engines has completely died away.

Then I gather my wits as I shakily forth myself to stumble down the gold paved promenade, intently fixing my sight on the number of each marble mansion fancier than the previous.
My entire form is wracked with stinging sweat by the time I make it to the last great edifice numbered 777. The lucky number that is the complete opposite of the evil number 666.
With heart in my mouth and on the verge of unconsciousness, I step forward and just manage before my courage fails me to ever so gently tap the worn and cracking doorbell whose ugly decrepitude stands firmly apart from the exquisite finery of the house it was built to serve.
Poor Hitomi, oh poor Hitomi. Madoka and Homura may have been the wonderous saint's history coldly disregarded but even they had not the time and mindfulness to attend every lost sheep.

Tears flood from my burning eyes, causing my cheeks to hurt like fire.
Thank goodness the doorbell still worked but am I already too late?
No. I can't be. I may have had pressing engagements to attend to and suffering innocents to save, but how could I have been so foolish and forgetful as to neglect such a genuinely munificent and generous
female member of the landed gentry.
I had repeated Madoka's mistakes once again and I had failed both my ancestors and now I was never going to be able to sleep at night again while I awaited an eternal suffering in hell and...

"Come in. It's open"
Came the sweetest and most sonorous choir of heaven from a room deep within the grand abode whose extravagance would put even NERV's headquarters now under Kaworu and Squid girl's control to shame.

Just managing to stop myself from falling with but one ounce of my strength remaining, I fumble briefly with the heavy oak doors before dashing headlong into the giant complex within not bothering to close the doors after me.
I knew from the weakness in her voice that the speaker was on the verge of a mental breakdown of the severest magnitude and that I had but mere moments to locate her if I were to have any hope whatsoever of saving her as granny Madoka had failed to do.
In the heroic Shinji and Rei's words, I had to finish what my elders had started.

"I'm coming Hitomi. Please just hang on." I plead weakly as my lungs practically give out in my maddened rush up the stairs and down a seemingly unending corridor whose walls are filled to their edges with great paintings that would fetch their fortunate sellers enough to last their and their children's lifetimes.

A small stack of them had been neatly arranged in a pile in a large box titled "for sale to the poor".
And people said the upper class were incapable of acts of great generosity when they set their heart to it...
Curse you Sayaka and Kyoko for driving such a wonderful girl to such incurable trauma.

Bless you Homura for having the foresight to realize she deserved our attention as much as the next ailing companion.

"I'm here Hitomi. Madoka's granddaughter me. Lola." I half deliriously announce as I finally locate the door where the voice beckoning me inside came from.
The one at the right end of the uppermost floor past every other door.
Its hinges are on the verge of rusting into decay and the wood is gnarled with disgusting black fungi.
I almost don't want to touch it but I know that if I don't, this unforgivable crime will follow me and my descendants if I should live long enough to have any to our graves.

"You're here. You're finally here" The nectarine melody from within chimes with a faint note of hope.
"You came. You didn't forget about me. Finally, one of my friends or one of their children at the very least actually remembered me."

"I never forgot about you. Dearest Hitomi. None of us did" I firmly insist with all strength returned to my voice as I step within the room and slowly steel myself to meet the face and eyes of the gentry among gentry, the master of masters and the noble of nobility.
Her beautiful green hair reaching just below her thin shoulders. Not too short. Not too long.
Her pale and malnourished but still radiant skin.
The meek yet gritty expression in her worn but still shining eyes.

The gown of velveted purple that adorns her like the robe of god's highest ranking cherubin.

"I'm here now. I'm never leaving you again. Cross my heart and hope to die" I monotonously vow with hand on chest.
"I can but offer my sincerest apologies that I took so long but I got here as fast as I could."

Hitomi Shizuki "High Elder Magister" POV
What is it about the wealthy and highborn that people don't like?
If being born poor in a slum is not a choice then neither is being born into nobility in a great mansion too big for me to get through without getting lost countless times even well into my teenage years.
Is it the immaculate way I dress and the range of expensive perfumes I use to give off the most hygienic luster of cleanliness about me wherever I go?
My sophisticated choice of vocabulary that takes great pain to omit any detail of rudeness even in my most blind and thoughtless rages? My peculiar tone of green in my hair which I have tried dyeing to no result? But my closest friend Sayaka had blue in her hair and her milkshake brought all the boys to the yard. It couldn't have been that. Not when unnatural Madoka's pink hair gave so many of our other students such a fun time as they queued to give it a fond stroke.
Is it because I'm ugly?

I thought I could trust the few friends without a prejudice to me just because of my social class.
Sayaka was first to betray me.
I trusted she would understand that I loved Kyosuke for his music and that if we were truly friends, surely neither of us would mind who got him first.
After all, was the definition of friendship not that happiness was shared between the two?

I clutch my nose and cover my mouth as the all too awful memory of Sayaka's merciless beatdown returns to me.
I understand I may not have been the most delicate in handling our unfortunate shared affection with the boy I learned too late to be an uncaring snake not worthy of anyone's affection save that of his prized violin that he clearly valued over human company from even his most ardent admirers.

But Sayaka's rough handling of me when she found out about the feelings of love, I could do nothing to help myself from still hurts me to this day.
I'd have thought that as good friends, nay best friends that she would be happy for me that I had found such a fulfilling relationship. Was the point of friends not to rejoice in each other's gladness and achievements?
Knowing that it will not go unnoticed by the ever-caring Lola, the sudden bout of sadness forces me to swallow a jarful of antidepressants with the help of a conveniently positioned glass of water on my dresser.
Even with the slew of magical powers both blessed and cursed upon me as the sole survivor who chose immortality as the final remaining magical girl to Honour the sacrifices of those before her, there is tragically no spell that eases depression.

"Kyosuke wasn't worth it anyway." The pink haired Japanese-German tries to console me as I swallow with a painful gulp. "He was a downright jerk who never once appreciated the loving acts you and Sayaka committed in his name. Love must be two way."

"I was an idiot. Lola. How could I not have known what my closest and only friends were up to?"
I cough, the overwhelming effect of so many pills briefly causing me to seize up.

"Because they never told you. Because they didn't value you as a true friend or the value of trust. In Madoka and Homura's case, they were sadly occupied by other universe destroying matters just as I was occupied by my work with the rebellion. You the importance of the rebellion surely, Hitomi? You surely comprehend how truly apologetic I am that it took me so long to get here with NERV committing such barbarism beyond our wildest imaginations."

She begs almost pleadingly as she chokes back a sniff.
Ah. The Madoka Lineage. So quick to apologies and even quicker to tears. Ready to take full responsibility long before they were called upon.
What truly set the pink haired girl apart from my other fake friends which I didn't realize till too late.

"I understand perfectly. Every member of the landed gentry is talking about the thoughtless destruction those ruffians are causing through their sadism. Don't be sorry Lola, I'm just pleased you came at all."
I sniff in turn as I hold back a sob of my own. Each word of her voice is more valuable than the shiniest diamond. She truly takes after her grandmother, in the good way.

We take a little time to exchange pleasantries and expensive tea which only blood royals such as myself are trained in the art of making.
I explain much to her relief that my eternal position as Homura's successor in keeping the incubators at bay so that this universe does not become another emotionless prison has not been too hard on me.
We cannot help reminiscing a little over the bittersweet fates of our mixed bag of ancestors despite our best efforts.
Sayaka died penniless after racking up gambling debts and turning to the bottle after Kyosuke chose to be with me, claiming that she could not live without him.
We both grimly acknowledge that this was dependency and addiction rather than true love even as we express our mutual sympathy for the most deceptive of the few we once trusted.

Kyoko rotted in a cell following multiple accounts of domestic violence and assault.
We take a moment to wonder whether her tragic end would have been so had Sayaka not been blinded by her unhealthy fixation to Kyosuke the way I briefly had, and acknowledged Kyoko's hidden crush on her.

Madoka and Homura, freed from their magical girl status were able to have a close to normal life together as humble yet content white collar office salary women before quietly passing away still in blissful union with one another, at the ripe old age of 66 and 67 respectively. Pretty good ages considering the humongous amounts of stress and irreparable damage that the magic pulsing through their bodies left upon them upon removal. An unpreventable side effect they considered a small price to pay for a peaceful life that would eventually draw to a close when it came time for it to end.
Eternal life was not for everyone and in their own wise words, they had more than long enough to set their affairs in order to face death with dignity and that was the way it should be.

Though they never quite reached the level of good old Winston, Abraham, John and Martin, they did publish a series of memoirs relating to their time protecting the universe from certain destruction by their choice to take the difficult contract of magical girls.
They were the only two of the gang to die praised and well-remembered enough for their shared tomb to become sacred shrines that remained grand landmarks of pilgrimage even to this day.

I never heard much of Mami following the dissolution of the team.
Knowing what I knew of what happened to Sayaka and Kyoko, I could but pray that no news meant good news. At her funeral which I dutifully attended along with those of my other former friends, there was neither a roaring praise of her name nor the hisses and boos of hatred that echoed those of Sayaka and Kyoko's. The mourners were for lack of a better word, ambivalent.
One attendee did remark that the blonde woman's final words were "I don't want to die." to which we both responded with cool nonchalance.
I never knew Mami well enough to decide whether she deserved my sympathy or scorn.
Whether this was a good thing or not, I guess I would never find out.

It was Homura who did the bold and friendly thing no one else would dare to do.
Telling me everything.
From the contracts, the existence of magic, the incubators nefarious plans to mooch off of us naïve young dreamers not content with all the gifts of life we were all too blind to appreciate.
She neither embellished nor omitted a single detail while firmly insisting that none of this was my fault since I was cruelly kept in the dark by those, I was supposed to have trust in.

I clung firmly to each word even as I let out more tears that day than any that had passed or would come to pass in my long existence.
I was hysterical. I punched the walls, and stomped the floors while screaming my lungs out till I coughed crimson blood.
I slammed my head into a bedpost and my head into a wardrobe as the blinding light of epiphany engulfed me and seemed to tear me asunder.

"Why did none of you tell me any of this? Did you not trust me after I'd worked so hard to prove my good character and all the money my family loaned to yours to keep you from debt and NERV's workhouses?" I incredulously remarked, more sorrowfully than angrily with arms spread wide.

"Why didn't Madoka just go to the police if she wanted the world's problems solved instead of letting them laze in the station all day eating doughnuts?" Homura rhetorically asked back as she solemnly pronounced Madoka for all her merits, a bit of a masochist who'd been driven mad following the early death of her conscripted father during one of the final battles of world war 2.
How the others who were not Homura and me, wanted to take advantage of this masochism even at her expense by forcing her to remain on her painful throne even when it hurt her deeply and they could manage perfectly fine without her.
"A puppet on a lonely string" Homura called Madoka's sad time of being connivingly manipulated like a cow to be milked.

"A sad, strange little woman who has my pity" I called Sayaka having learned of her involvement in the driving of Madoka to despair.

"You deserve a break from your miserable job Homura." I insisted, having learned that Homura had been through many timelines in failed attempts to spare me and Madoka and our so called "friends" from a fate worse than death.
"Let me handle things so you and Madoka can be together."

We both knew that Kyubey being the manipulative schemer he was would eventually find a way to break the geass Homura had put on him and his race. The incubator worlds were utopian by virtue of loading their chores onto the human world to turn it dystopian.
No matter how good we had it thanks to Homura and Madoka's actions, there still needed to be one magical girl to continue holding the unstable balance of the first universe where they could finally enjoy a long-awaited reunion.

I volunteered myself. I called it penance for my mistakes in ignorance and not helping earlier not knowing what they were all going through.
I was adamant in spite of Homura's attempts at refusal and eventually, eventually she gave in.

I was given the combined magic of hers, Madoka's and all other magical girls remaining and instructed to keep a close eye on the magical barrier which the incubators would tirelessly attempt to break so that they never again threatened the weak and helpless with their destructive irresponsibility.

I only get a few days off each year. A short time when the barrier seems sturdy and the incubators have gotten tired enough to let up their resistance against their punishment for their deceitful truancy at least for a time.
This is one of those joyous days of respite.

One of those days where I am able to joyfully consent to Lola's humble petition to accompany her in her quest to stop SEELE, NERV's superior and free another adorable girl of great power who has fallen under the grasp of evil.
Her mention of the name "Shinji Ikari" and "Rei Ayanami" send chills down my spine.
I and the other members of the landed gentry have long since lauded them as gods among men.

Lola is clearly enthused by my admiration for our shared legendary heroes. She is beyond glad that it is not only her small group of rebels that appreciate all that Shinji and Rei have done for the world even as they were derided and criticized and mocked nonstop by their ass of a "father" trying to pull the wool over their eyes.

She runs for the armory on the floor below which I give her directions for, while I pick up the ornate white staff with the pink round orb and the carefully preserved assault rifle from a wardrobe nearby.
Madoka's staff and Homura's gun.

I am not in the least surprised at Lola's selection of two flame pistols and a beltful of incendiary grenades as she rushes back at lightspeed, nearly tripping as she stands beside me with a look of pure readiness.
She did call herself "the pyro" in the team she and her rebels had formed under Shinji and Rei: team fortress 3.
The greatest team. Now complete with the strongest magical girl.

One that was sane. One that was selfless.
But above all else. One that had gotten fed up of the prejudiced public calling the landed gentry "idlers" and who sought to prove that wealth did not cause evil.

"For you. Madoka and Homura" we intone as I uphold the staff of Madoka and gleaming light floods our senses.
As our forms are sent careening at speed towards the base of SEELE where unlucky Hotaru and amazing Shinji and Rei are awaiting us with bated breath, Lola lets off a small jet of flame from one of her flamethrowers while I switch off the safety of the outdated but still deadly rapid-fire two-handed firearm.
Our beloved ancestors may be dead, but their legacy will endure forever through their descendants.
Heroic deeds and decisions live on while the flame life is ethereal.
It is the way it should be and for the best.

Lola POV

Homura tried many things to fix the doomed timelines to no avail.
It was only when she approached things from a different angle by trying to reason with the kind Hitomi rather than the unreasonable others that a major change for the better truly happened.

Just as how Shinji and Rei were ready to try different tricks with their Evangelions while Asuka stuck obsessively with the same old moves she'd learned from school, making her a boring and predictable opponent.

Hitomi wished for a boy who loved music. What she really wanted and what all of us wanted was a person who love us for who we are.
When we love someone, we make time for them when there is none.
We sacrifice.

Love cannot be one way. However hard Hitomi and Sayaka (the she who must not be named) tried to please Kyosuke, he only threw it back in their faces. He did not need them and they did not need him.
Shinji did everything he could for Asuka. His reward was a punch to the face.
Too many of those and he won't be able to do good things even for those who do care for him and would benefit from his interventions. It's not just Asuka who ungratefully breaks hearts, I want Shinji to see.

I hope Shinji will see now that I've rallied Hitomi to our cause once again, that he and Rei are not alone in hating Gendo's harsh treatment of them.
Not every upper-class citizen is a psycotic twat, just as not every German wants a world war 3.
At the very least I don't, und ich bin ein Berliner.
Aber ich mochte Freid. Kein Kreig. Ich liebe Kreig nicht.
Gar nicht.