No other place would have taken my money. Any other motel, hotel, inn, bed and breakfast, or licensed whorehouse would have sent me packing. Competition had gotten fierce in the love motel business, though, and some operators had become loose. These places offered a "newlywed discount", which was a code word for minors allowed. Midori had heard this from her mother's boyfriend, who was a tax evasion investigator.
Even with the premium for the "newlywed discount", my bill for room and service came over to 48,000 yen . Misato said that it wasn't a bad deal, but dubbed my taste as highly suspect. I assumed that she was talking about the room, but I digress.
In the motel elevator, Midori said something that struck me. Tokyo-2 was full of hungry people, but when they eat, they only got hungrier. The people guzzled sake, gorged on meat, gulped pills, and whored. Even if no one was paid, it was whoring, Midori said. You could tell by looking at them.
Practically every one of her classmates took a pill case along with their pencil case to school. They called it "candy", and each candy case contained birth control, uppers, and day-afters [6]. The girls took their candy with milk during lunch. Candy cases were making their way down to the middle schools.
"What happened?" I asked.
"They are afraid," Midori said. "The kids catch it from their teachers, their parents. The adults know something is happening in Tokyo-3, and they can't do anything about it. They think it has something to do with the Second Impact. They think it will be the end of the world."
She didn't want to dwell on the subject, and, soon enough, we were at our room.
One Weekend
8. Briefly in Paradise
Midori and I stepped onto what felt like warm sand. An evening sun lit the vast sky purple. Gentle and frothy waves lapped against the perfect white sand. The air smelled of salt and other sea scents. A gull screamed forlornly in the distance. I could see water for miles and miles. Other islands floated in the distance. At the edge of the water lay a circular bed of light blue. The headboard was a mass of buttons and labels.
The door closed behind us with a pneumatic hiss. The door itself became painted with tropical undergrowth and trees; the outline disappeared, leaving only a brass door handle hanging in midair.
"Wow, Shinji. I'm impressed," Midori said. "You went all out. What is this?"
"I'm really not sure," I answered. "I closed my eyes and then picked one."
A yellow blur darted from the photo-realistic brush. The object raced across the side of the room, leaving small footprints behind, and came to a stop near the edge of the water. It turned out to be a chubby rodent with brown stripes and a strangely angular tail; it was the size of a large squirrel.
"Pika-pika," the creature said. "Pika-pika."
A bipedal platypus waddled from the fern-like undergrowth to join the yellow rodent.
"Psy-duck," the platypus insisted. "Psyyyy-duck.'
Midori kicked off her shoes and ran to the edge of the room. The pokemon turned toward her with wide eyes.
"Pikachu! Psy-duck!" she yelled ecstatically.
My eyes nearly bugged from my head as the pair of creatures stepped out of the the wall and ran past her. Midori giggled and chased after them for a moment, but they darted swiftly back into the brush. Deep in the brush were dozens upon dozens of the creatures; they came in all shapes and sizes. Some flew, other's walked, one or two stalked, and at least one slithered. I backed up until I hit the bed. I sat down like a lump.
Midori plunked down next me, causing the bed to bob up and down for a moment.
"A waterbed, how kinky," she said with a smile and began dribbling the surface until the mass shook with three centimeter waves. I felt a little sick. "I wonder were the bathroom is?"
At the word bathroom, a bell rang at the corner of the room toward the interior of the island. Midori rose and walked toward a large bolder. She peaked her head behind the rock and disappeared for a moment.
"Shinji, you've got to see this! It looks like a lagoon," Midori exclaimed.
I rose reluctantly and joined her. The boulder was actually a rectangular wall. Touching the screen didn't faze the illusion. The bathroom held a kidney shaped tub, large enough for at least two. A dry path of rocks looked as if it would readily serve as a waterfall. On a rock shelf were shampoos, soaps, and other bottled substances.
"Excuse me for a moment," Midori said. "I've got to go."
"Right," I said and turned.
"Do you mind if I take a shower?" Midori asked.
"Go ahead," I answered over my shoulder, and then returned to the bed.
Tokyo-2 was a place of exotic tastes, to put it mildly.
I wanted to slump spinelessly onto the slippery sheets, but I was too sweaty and nasty. I wanted to take a shower, too, but I didn't have a change of clothes. I tossed my jacket over a bed post. I turned to the bewildering assortment of buttons, dials, and displays between the posts. NERV HQ had nothing on these guys. I tapped a button labeled with a large question mark beneath it.
"Time?" a mechanical female voice asked me. "Would you like to set the time?"
"Why not?" I answered. The evening sky was playing with my senses.
"What time would you like to set it at?" the bland woman asked.
"Current time."
"Adjusting."
The sun accelerated across the sky, and the sky deepened as if injected with ink. The moon rose and the stars came out. A winged dragon flew overhead. I was impressed.
"How else may I help you?" the disembodied voice asked.
"Clothes," I said.
"We carry a variety of underclothing. Please refer to the main display."
The largest LCD display went blank, and then filled with a variety of icon. There were one pieces for men, two pieces for women, and a few icons that resembled furry pokemon. I stayed away from the last option. One patch of the LCD must have been hair-triggered, because the women's display lit up. A series of selections were made for me. As soon as the blur of icons dissipated, a pneumatic hiss traveled up from the floor to the wall before me. A compartment opened in the wall, which ejected a clear tube. The tube dropped it onto the sheets and spilled a pair of lacy black lingerie. I decided to try again. I couldn't order again until I had replaced the tube into the sky colored indentation in the wall. The lingerie wouldn't fit, so I sent an empty tube back. I cautiously picked a pair of plain boxers. They didn't didn't have any plain briefs. I was not in a mood for Starmie or Snorlax underwear.
I collected my tube just as Midori shuffled out of the bathroom. Her white terry cloth robe dragged on the ground. She had wrapped a towel around her hair. I hastily shoved the lingerie under a pillow.
"I'm finished," she sang. "Your turn."
She smelled of flowers, papaya, and the sea. It was sweet, but not cloying. The combination of seeing her in a robe (probably wearing little or nothing underneath) and that scent triggered something inside of me. It felt like my knees had been greased and that my torso could lurch any which way while mounted on those unstable supports.
I made it to the shower where I self-consciously took off my clothes. My discarded clothes went into a wicker basket on top of Midori's skirt. I told myself that I lived with Misato, but I just didn't think of Misato like that. It finally hit me that I was sharing a motel room with a girl that I had just met. I suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable.
A black puffball with antennae, eyes, and stubby limbs crept to the edge of the lagoon to watch.
"Shoo!" I hissed, and it disappeared.
I found the controls for the shower on the surface of a smooth stone. Water sluiced down from the fall. I staggered under the shock of the cold. I chose a shampoo at random. I concentrated on washing: soap to hand, hand to skin, rinse. By the time I was finished, I shivered and chattered. A second robe waited for me; it was warm and dry. The air felt warm.
Midori leaned on the bed post to stare out at the night sky and sea. Her feet were tucked under her, and her hand rested on her chin A serpentine creature disported in the high waves. I sat gently on the bed. She turned to me.
"Shinji," she said. "I want to show you something. I've never shown any other boy this.
With one hand, she opened up the right skirt of her robe and revealed the luminous expanse of her bare right leg from toe to mid thigh. She pulled back the other skirt of her robe, and I noticed that her leg, from just above the knee, was a off a slightly different texture and color. Her thin fingers fumbled at the straps at the border of the change and then loosened the leather. Her leg came loose. I started in surprise. She pulled off her left leg and set it behind her. With a push of her arms and her butt, she slid over the smooth sheets until we were in arm's reach.
Midori took my right hand and pulled me closer. She pulled out a small bottle from the breast pocket of her robe. She uncorked it and poured a cool dollop of lotion into my palm. She poured a bit of the lotion in one hand and began to massage her stump. With her free hand, she pulled my lotion bearing hand onto the warm scarred skin. I began to smear the substance onto her.
"Slowly," she suggested soothingly. "Slowly."
My strokes had matched my heartbeat, fast and curt. I slowed down. My heart still pounded, but my hands stopped trembling, and I remembered to breathe. My hands and fingers ran over the remnant of the leg. I expected to feel the bone underneath, but encountered soft skin and wiry muscle. I could feel the scar where the surgeon had sewn the skin. Midori had stopped applying lotion and laid on her back. She hissed as I touched as I touched a raw spot. I jerked my hands away.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Don't stop," she said.
I continued. The bottom of her robe lay spread open, exposing smooth blue-tinged skin. Her build looked delicate. I took in the wonderful sight. My throat felt dry. Her legs were downed with short hair. She wore the lacy black underclothes. I wondered what she looked like underneath it. She sighed comfortably. I worked the slippery cream into her left thigh. My hands reached higher, until they were a hand's width away from the junction of her legs. Her leg hair became darker and thicker closer to there.
"Wait," she whispered. She leaned up and put a gentle hand on mine. I froze.
Midori gently disengaged her thigh from my hands and levered herself the rest of the way up. Her hair came free from the towel that bound it and arced in curved blades. The front of her robe had opened. Her eyes were dark and full in the dimness. I was surprised to find that she didn't seem upset. She hadn't stopped me because she was upset. She pulled her robe further open. She wanted me to look.
I took in the sight of her. Feeling bold, I reached up to run a finger over a sleek lock. My fingers trailed down the wet hair and ran down her cheek. She caught my hand in both of hers and cupped my hand over her cheek. I didn't know what she was going to do next, but she closed her eyes. Midori began breathing in short breaths through her mouth, I could feel the warmth of her exhales and smell her sweet scent. She flushed as well.
Her lips opened to say something. At that moment, a chime rang in the air. Static crackled and a man's voice spoke.
"Room service."
We tried to ignore it, but it rang insistently again. And again. And again. She sighed and then let go of my hand.
"Did you order something?" she asked.
"No," I squeaked as my voice cracked. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. "No, I didn't."
"Complimentary oysters and sake for room 203," the voice called.
"I'll go check," I said, recalling that she would have to hobble.
"Maybe there's a peep hole," Midori said in a low voice.
I reluctantly left the bed. I made sure that my robe hung covered my body, especially below the waist though the waiter couldn't see me. I picked my way cautiously to the dark tropical undergrowth and the brass doorknob. As soon as I touched the space where the door had been, a screen appeared, showing me what was beyond.
A portly waiter wearing aviator glasses stood in a parade stance next to a cart and tray. I deepened my voice as best as I could.
"Why don't you leave it right there? We aren't... presentable at the moment."
"Excellent," the waiter said. He swung the lid off of the tray and pulled out a bulky device that looked like massive staplegun. He pointed it at the door and pulled the trigger before I could react. I shied away from the burst of light. A ripple of electricity crawled like ants over my body. Black splotches appeared in the walls and ceiling. Three windows became transparent as the illusion was broken.
The calm of the night was broken as the thunderous hacking of a helicopter swung in from the sky. Spotlights shined in from the window. I backpedaled as the door exploded open. The waiter charged into the room. He held a video camera and an obnoxious light, which was aimed right at my eyes
Midori stopped me before I stumbled over the bed. In the background, pokemon howled and ran about.
"Investigative reporter Osekkai Kenji here with Shin-Tokyo Star, reporting! Here we have famed Eva Pilot Ikari Shinji, who had seduced an innocent young lady and brought her to this hotel room. Was this tryst paid for with UN money?!" the man shouted. "Mr. Ikari, what do you have to say for yourself?"
We backed up away from the man and his portable spotlight.
"Were you following us all day?!" I demanded.
"The public has a right to know!" a woman declared behind us. Another reporter attempted to negotiate a rope ladder between the helicopter and the window. The woman wore a bandanna mounted with a lipstick sized tube and a headset. She wore heels and a corporate power suit. "Sewayaki Kristy here with the Metropolitan, live on the scene of a sordid love motel, where we have tracked down NERV pilot Ikari Shinji. We believe that he has been brought here by the agent of a foreign government. Mr. Ikari, would you answer a few questions for us?"
"Go away, witch!" Midori shouted at the reporter.
The reporter reared in outrage; she nearly slipped off her ladder.
When I turned to the first yammering reporter, I saw that a whole crew of reporters had crowded into the room. Some of them were dressed like bellhops, maids, and waiters. One charged in wearing boxers, smeared lipstick on his face; he wielded a microphone like a bludgeon. Midori and I had backed against wall; my body tried to shield her from the throng. They closed in on us. Midori made vague animal-like noises from her throat.
A scream cut us all off. Mz. Sewayaki's chopper had cut it's connection with her ladder and she disappeared from the edge of the window. The reporter's wailing told us that she still clung on. The noise of the chopper faded, to be replaced with the familiar sound of a hundred hoovers running at once.
A piercing voice rang over a megaphone. "Everybody freeze!"
A wave of relief washed over me.
"Misato," I yelled.
A NERV VTOL sank into view. It flew right next to the building. Misato hung onto the top of the open hatch of the VTOL with one hand. In the other she held the white microphone. Her long raven hair, red jacket, and short black dress whipped around her. Black suited and beshaded agents leapt into the room, two by two from either side of Misato. The first agent fired a sawed off shotgun into the floor. The blast sent the crowd of reporters scurrying back. The other agents wielded black rods, with a twitch, the rods extended into staves. Midori and I sank to the floor. In the background, panicked pokemon splashed and stampeded into the water like the last of the dinosaurs.
"Shinji! You are in such DEEP SHIT!" Misato screamed. "You are SO GROUNDED!"
Suddenly, the paparazzi didn't seem so bad.
The next thing I knew, I was being scooped up by a NERV man.
[6] The uppers help regulate weight. Day afters are the successors to the morning-after pills.
Even with the premium for the "newlywed discount", my bill for room and service came over to 48,000 yen . Misato said that it wasn't a bad deal, but dubbed my taste as highly suspect. I assumed that she was talking about the room, but I digress.
In the motel elevator, Midori said something that struck me. Tokyo-2 was full of hungry people, but when they eat, they only got hungrier. The people guzzled sake, gorged on meat, gulped pills, and whored. Even if no one was paid, it was whoring, Midori said. You could tell by looking at them.
Practically every one of her classmates took a pill case along with their pencil case to school. They called it "candy", and each candy case contained birth control, uppers, and day-afters [6]. The girls took their candy with milk during lunch. Candy cases were making their way down to the middle schools.
"What happened?" I asked.
"They are afraid," Midori said. "The kids catch it from their teachers, their parents. The adults know something is happening in Tokyo-3, and they can't do anything about it. They think it has something to do with the Second Impact. They think it will be the end of the world."
She didn't want to dwell on the subject, and, soon enough, we were at our room.
One Weekend
8. Briefly in Paradise
Midori and I stepped onto what felt like warm sand. An evening sun lit the vast sky purple. Gentle and frothy waves lapped against the perfect white sand. The air smelled of salt and other sea scents. A gull screamed forlornly in the distance. I could see water for miles and miles. Other islands floated in the distance. At the edge of the water lay a circular bed of light blue. The headboard was a mass of buttons and labels.
The door closed behind us with a pneumatic hiss. The door itself became painted with tropical undergrowth and trees; the outline disappeared, leaving only a brass door handle hanging in midair.
"Wow, Shinji. I'm impressed," Midori said. "You went all out. What is this?"
"I'm really not sure," I answered. "I closed my eyes and then picked one."
A yellow blur darted from the photo-realistic brush. The object raced across the side of the room, leaving small footprints behind, and came to a stop near the edge of the water. It turned out to be a chubby rodent with brown stripes and a strangely angular tail; it was the size of a large squirrel.
"Pika-pika," the creature said. "Pika-pika."
A bipedal platypus waddled from the fern-like undergrowth to join the yellow rodent.
"Psy-duck," the platypus insisted. "Psyyyy-duck.'
Midori kicked off her shoes and ran to the edge of the room. The pokemon turned toward her with wide eyes.
"Pikachu! Psy-duck!" she yelled ecstatically.
My eyes nearly bugged from my head as the pair of creatures stepped out of the the wall and ran past her. Midori giggled and chased after them for a moment, but they darted swiftly back into the brush. Deep in the brush were dozens upon dozens of the creatures; they came in all shapes and sizes. Some flew, other's walked, one or two stalked, and at least one slithered. I backed up until I hit the bed. I sat down like a lump.
Midori plunked down next me, causing the bed to bob up and down for a moment.
"A waterbed, how kinky," she said with a smile and began dribbling the surface until the mass shook with three centimeter waves. I felt a little sick. "I wonder were the bathroom is?"
At the word bathroom, a bell rang at the corner of the room toward the interior of the island. Midori rose and walked toward a large bolder. She peaked her head behind the rock and disappeared for a moment.
"Shinji, you've got to see this! It looks like a lagoon," Midori exclaimed.
I rose reluctantly and joined her. The boulder was actually a rectangular wall. Touching the screen didn't faze the illusion. The bathroom held a kidney shaped tub, large enough for at least two. A dry path of rocks looked as if it would readily serve as a waterfall. On a rock shelf were shampoos, soaps, and other bottled substances.
"Excuse me for a moment," Midori said. "I've got to go."
"Right," I said and turned.
"Do you mind if I take a shower?" Midori asked.
"Go ahead," I answered over my shoulder, and then returned to the bed.
Tokyo-2 was a place of exotic tastes, to put it mildly.
I wanted to slump spinelessly onto the slippery sheets, but I was too sweaty and nasty. I wanted to take a shower, too, but I didn't have a change of clothes. I tossed my jacket over a bed post. I turned to the bewildering assortment of buttons, dials, and displays between the posts. NERV HQ had nothing on these guys. I tapped a button labeled with a large question mark beneath it.
"Time?" a mechanical female voice asked me. "Would you like to set the time?"
"Why not?" I answered. The evening sky was playing with my senses.
"What time would you like to set it at?" the bland woman asked.
"Current time."
"Adjusting."
The sun accelerated across the sky, and the sky deepened as if injected with ink. The moon rose and the stars came out. A winged dragon flew overhead. I was impressed.
"How else may I help you?" the disembodied voice asked.
"Clothes," I said.
"We carry a variety of underclothing. Please refer to the main display."
The largest LCD display went blank, and then filled with a variety of icon. There were one pieces for men, two pieces for women, and a few icons that resembled furry pokemon. I stayed away from the last option. One patch of the LCD must have been hair-triggered, because the women's display lit up. A series of selections were made for me. As soon as the blur of icons dissipated, a pneumatic hiss traveled up from the floor to the wall before me. A compartment opened in the wall, which ejected a clear tube. The tube dropped it onto the sheets and spilled a pair of lacy black lingerie. I decided to try again. I couldn't order again until I had replaced the tube into the sky colored indentation in the wall. The lingerie wouldn't fit, so I sent an empty tube back. I cautiously picked a pair of plain boxers. They didn't didn't have any plain briefs. I was not in a mood for Starmie or Snorlax underwear.
I collected my tube just as Midori shuffled out of the bathroom. Her white terry cloth robe dragged on the ground. She had wrapped a towel around her hair. I hastily shoved the lingerie under a pillow.
"I'm finished," she sang. "Your turn."
She smelled of flowers, papaya, and the sea. It was sweet, but not cloying. The combination of seeing her in a robe (probably wearing little or nothing underneath) and that scent triggered something inside of me. It felt like my knees had been greased and that my torso could lurch any which way while mounted on those unstable supports.
I made it to the shower where I self-consciously took off my clothes. My discarded clothes went into a wicker basket on top of Midori's skirt. I told myself that I lived with Misato, but I just didn't think of Misato like that. It finally hit me that I was sharing a motel room with a girl that I had just met. I suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable.
A black puffball with antennae, eyes, and stubby limbs crept to the edge of the lagoon to watch.
"Shoo!" I hissed, and it disappeared.
I found the controls for the shower on the surface of a smooth stone. Water sluiced down from the fall. I staggered under the shock of the cold. I chose a shampoo at random. I concentrated on washing: soap to hand, hand to skin, rinse. By the time I was finished, I shivered and chattered. A second robe waited for me; it was warm and dry. The air felt warm.
Midori leaned on the bed post to stare out at the night sky and sea. Her feet were tucked under her, and her hand rested on her chin A serpentine creature disported in the high waves. I sat gently on the bed. She turned to me.
"Shinji," she said. "I want to show you something. I've never shown any other boy this.
With one hand, she opened up the right skirt of her robe and revealed the luminous expanse of her bare right leg from toe to mid thigh. She pulled back the other skirt of her robe, and I noticed that her leg, from just above the knee, was a off a slightly different texture and color. Her thin fingers fumbled at the straps at the border of the change and then loosened the leather. Her leg came loose. I started in surprise. She pulled off her left leg and set it behind her. With a push of her arms and her butt, she slid over the smooth sheets until we were in arm's reach.
Midori took my right hand and pulled me closer. She pulled out a small bottle from the breast pocket of her robe. She uncorked it and poured a cool dollop of lotion into my palm. She poured a bit of the lotion in one hand and began to massage her stump. With her free hand, she pulled my lotion bearing hand onto the warm scarred skin. I began to smear the substance onto her.
"Slowly," she suggested soothingly. "Slowly."
My strokes had matched my heartbeat, fast and curt. I slowed down. My heart still pounded, but my hands stopped trembling, and I remembered to breathe. My hands and fingers ran over the remnant of the leg. I expected to feel the bone underneath, but encountered soft skin and wiry muscle. I could feel the scar where the surgeon had sewn the skin. Midori had stopped applying lotion and laid on her back. She hissed as I touched as I touched a raw spot. I jerked my hands away.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Don't stop," she said.
I continued. The bottom of her robe lay spread open, exposing smooth blue-tinged skin. Her build looked delicate. I took in the wonderful sight. My throat felt dry. Her legs were downed with short hair. She wore the lacy black underclothes. I wondered what she looked like underneath it. She sighed comfortably. I worked the slippery cream into her left thigh. My hands reached higher, until they were a hand's width away from the junction of her legs. Her leg hair became darker and thicker closer to there.
"Wait," she whispered. She leaned up and put a gentle hand on mine. I froze.
Midori gently disengaged her thigh from my hands and levered herself the rest of the way up. Her hair came free from the towel that bound it and arced in curved blades. The front of her robe had opened. Her eyes were dark and full in the dimness. I was surprised to find that she didn't seem upset. She hadn't stopped me because she was upset. She pulled her robe further open. She wanted me to look.
I took in the sight of her. Feeling bold, I reached up to run a finger over a sleek lock. My fingers trailed down the wet hair and ran down her cheek. She caught my hand in both of hers and cupped my hand over her cheek. I didn't know what she was going to do next, but she closed her eyes. Midori began breathing in short breaths through her mouth, I could feel the warmth of her exhales and smell her sweet scent. She flushed as well.
Her lips opened to say something. At that moment, a chime rang in the air. Static crackled and a man's voice spoke.
"Room service."
We tried to ignore it, but it rang insistently again. And again. And again. She sighed and then let go of my hand.
"Did you order something?" she asked.
"No," I squeaked as my voice cracked. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. "No, I didn't."
"Complimentary oysters and sake for room 203," the voice called.
"I'll go check," I said, recalling that she would have to hobble.
"Maybe there's a peep hole," Midori said in a low voice.
I reluctantly left the bed. I made sure that my robe hung covered my body, especially below the waist though the waiter couldn't see me. I picked my way cautiously to the dark tropical undergrowth and the brass doorknob. As soon as I touched the space where the door had been, a screen appeared, showing me what was beyond.
A portly waiter wearing aviator glasses stood in a parade stance next to a cart and tray. I deepened my voice as best as I could.
"Why don't you leave it right there? We aren't... presentable at the moment."
"Excellent," the waiter said. He swung the lid off of the tray and pulled out a bulky device that looked like massive staplegun. He pointed it at the door and pulled the trigger before I could react. I shied away from the burst of light. A ripple of electricity crawled like ants over my body. Black splotches appeared in the walls and ceiling. Three windows became transparent as the illusion was broken.
The calm of the night was broken as the thunderous hacking of a helicopter swung in from the sky. Spotlights shined in from the window. I backpedaled as the door exploded open. The waiter charged into the room. He held a video camera and an obnoxious light, which was aimed right at my eyes
Midori stopped me before I stumbled over the bed. In the background, pokemon howled and ran about.
"Investigative reporter Osekkai Kenji here with Shin-Tokyo Star, reporting! Here we have famed Eva Pilot Ikari Shinji, who had seduced an innocent young lady and brought her to this hotel room. Was this tryst paid for with UN money?!" the man shouted. "Mr. Ikari, what do you have to say for yourself?"
We backed up away from the man and his portable spotlight.
"Were you following us all day?!" I demanded.
"The public has a right to know!" a woman declared behind us. Another reporter attempted to negotiate a rope ladder between the helicopter and the window. The woman wore a bandanna mounted with a lipstick sized tube and a headset. She wore heels and a corporate power suit. "Sewayaki Kristy here with the Metropolitan, live on the scene of a sordid love motel, where we have tracked down NERV pilot Ikari Shinji. We believe that he has been brought here by the agent of a foreign government. Mr. Ikari, would you answer a few questions for us?"
"Go away, witch!" Midori shouted at the reporter.
The reporter reared in outrage; she nearly slipped off her ladder.
When I turned to the first yammering reporter, I saw that a whole crew of reporters had crowded into the room. Some of them were dressed like bellhops, maids, and waiters. One charged in wearing boxers, smeared lipstick on his face; he wielded a microphone like a bludgeon. Midori and I had backed against wall; my body tried to shield her from the throng. They closed in on us. Midori made vague animal-like noises from her throat.
A scream cut us all off. Mz. Sewayaki's chopper had cut it's connection with her ladder and she disappeared from the edge of the window. The reporter's wailing told us that she still clung on. The noise of the chopper faded, to be replaced with the familiar sound of a hundred hoovers running at once.
A piercing voice rang over a megaphone. "Everybody freeze!"
A wave of relief washed over me.
"Misato," I yelled.
A NERV VTOL sank into view. It flew right next to the building. Misato hung onto the top of the open hatch of the VTOL with one hand. In the other she held the white microphone. Her long raven hair, red jacket, and short black dress whipped around her. Black suited and beshaded agents leapt into the room, two by two from either side of Misato. The first agent fired a sawed off shotgun into the floor. The blast sent the crowd of reporters scurrying back. The other agents wielded black rods, with a twitch, the rods extended into staves. Midori and I sank to the floor. In the background, panicked pokemon splashed and stampeded into the water like the last of the dinosaurs.
"Shinji! You are in such DEEP SHIT!" Misato screamed. "You are SO GROUNDED!"
Suddenly, the paparazzi didn't seem so bad.
The next thing I knew, I was being scooped up by a NERV man.
[6] The uppers help regulate weight. Day afters are the successors to the morning-after pills.