"Hello, Ritsuko."
The doctor stared in surprise at the young man who stood outside her door. Shinji Ikari was not dressed in the white shirt and black pants that he had always worn, shying away from everyone. Instead, he was dressed smartly in a suit and tie with shiny black shoes, carrying a leather computer bag in one hand. He looked her directly in the eyes as he spoke.
"Come in." She stepped aside and gestured to her cramped living room. "If you don't mind, I'll be a few more minutes. Misato will be here any minute."
"All right."
Ritsuko hurried back into her room and hurriedly packed. Misato had called the day of her car crash and invited her over for the weekend. The doctor had apologized and explained that she couldn't get there since her car was totaled.
Misato had offered to come pick her up. Ritsuko thought this over, decided that Misato's driving skills had to have improved somewhat over the last decade, and agreed.
Ritsuko slung the bag over her shoulder and emerged a minute later. Shinji was sitting on one of her squashy armchairs, his bag leaning against the curved wooden leg. He was absorbed in his work, his fingers dancing over the keyboard of his laptop. Only when Ritsuko sat down in the seat next to him did he jump and quickly lay aside the laptop.
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.
"That's fine." Ritsuko sat back and clasped her hands together over her knee. They hadn't talked since the day of the crash, and Ritsuko shivered in remembrance—not of the crash, but of her boss's reaction later.
"So, Shinji, what do you do now?"
Shinji blinked and regained his confidence a moment later. "I'm working with Kensuke, actually," he began hesitantly. Then, more eagerly, "Kensuke never lost his love of taking photos. He's the main photographer for a new magazine in America, and I'm... I'm... well, the director of photography."
"Interesting. But who is Kensuke?"
A look of dawning spread over Shinji's face. He seized his laptop and began working enigmatically again, as Ritsuko watched. A moment later he whirled the computer around. The screen showed a smiling, freckled boy with slightly curly brown hair and round glasses.
Ritsuko raised an eyebrow.
"He was my classmate...back then," Shinji finished, somewhat weakly.
Ritsuko nodded then. "I remember Misato mentioning him."
A long pause followed.
"Uh, Ritsuko?"
"Yes?"
"Do Misato and Asuka know I'm coming?"
Ritsuko faltered. "I tried to call Misato last night and tell her of our change in plans, but only Asuka was home. She didn't know who I was, and I didn't want to tell her outright."
After all, how could she not invite Shinji? And if Misato had changed as little as it appeared she had, another guest wouldn't make any difference. It was Asuka she was concerned about.
"Will she still hate me?" Shinji asked in a small voice.
"No." The word escaped Ritsuko's lips immediately, but Shinji did not look convinced. "She's been through a lot—no one knows where she's been for the last twelve years—and from what Misato's told me, she's not the same person she was before. But Shinji, tread carefully around her, all right?"
"I will."
Pause.
Ritsuko looked at her watch. "Where is Misato?"
= = = = = = =
The little children crowded around Asuka as they waved to Misato. The purple-haired woman waved back with a "peace" sign, backed out of her driveway, and promptly ran over her flowers. The children groaned.
Misato pulled her tires out of the soggy ground with a squelching sound and rolled down her window. "I'll be back this afternoon, Asuka."
"Drive carefully, Misato," Asuka implored. "You didn't get very much sleep last night."
Misato laughed and shifted her gaze to the kids clustering around Asuka, much like goslings to their mother. "And you kids, be nice to Asuka."
"We will!" they chorused. Misato waved and drove off.
"Asuka-san." One of the older girls, about seven or eight, was tugging on her skirt. "Can we make a cake?"
"We saw Misato-san cooking really late last night," her brother added. "Will there be a big party when she comes back?"
"Well, I'm not sure," Asuka responded hesitantly, but the persistent begging of the children soon won her over. "All right, let's get to work."
With a loud cheer, everyone hurried into the kitchen, with Asuka following in the rear.
"Stop!" a feminine voice called, and immediately the chatter died down. The oldest of them all, a tall-dark-haired girl named Kimie, immediately took control. The boys who had been reaching for flour and sugar stopped in mid- motion, as did several of the younger children, who were noisily dragging a chair across the floor. "Nobody move until Asuka-san tells you what to do."
It feels so strange to give orders—and even stranger to see them obeying, Asuka thought, as she directed the younger children to bring her bowls and measuring spoons while the older ones lifted the bags of sugar and flour up to the table. When all the ingredients and containers had been assembled, the children gathered around the square table. Asuka found a recipe and began to read it.
"Four cups of flour," she read, and handed the measuring cup to the child sitting nearest. "Miki, will you measure out four cups of flour and pour them in?"
Miki got up and cautiously obeyed. The third cup slid from her chubby hand, spilling its contents upon the table. Some of the older boys laughed, and Miki looked as if she were about to cry. Asuka stood up, automatically silencing them, and helped the little girl to pour the last two cups.
It never occurred to Asuka how much faster the cake would have been completed, had she done it herself. She was having fun, helping the children read and measure out ingredients, slowly growing into her role as leader of the clan.
Several hours later the cake finally entered the oven, and Asuka sighed in relief. But before she could even turn around, Kimie yelled, "Makoto, what have you done to your pants?!"
Makoto looked down and stood up. A shower of sugar fell to the floor.
"I'll clean it up," Asuka volunteered. Several of the kids sighed in relief, and all appeared exhausted. "You can go home if you want. You must all be tired from getting up early to say goodbye to Misato-san."
The boys stood up and ran out of the house, but several of the girls stopped to hug Asuka and thank her. When she had seen them all off safely, she returned with a wet rag—only to find that Kimie was already on her knees, scrubbing at the mess of sticky batter.
"Kimie, you don't have to do that," Asuka cried out, both touched and worried at the sight of the young girl cleaning. "It's only eight o'clock. Your parents must be worried about where you are."
"I don't have any," she shrugged. "I'm in charge of Keiichi and Makoto at home."
Asuka remembered the two brothers running off with the rest. "Will they all right on their own?"
"They'll go home with someone else," Kimie assured her. Feeling that it would be useless to argue any more, Asuka got down on her knees and began cleaning up the spilled sugar.
"It must be a lot of work for you," Asuka commented quietly.
Kimie shrugged. "I'm used to it. There's a lot of cooking and cleaning to do, and since there was only me to do it, I grew into it pretty quickly."
Asuka nodded and continued to clean, feeling her face grow hot. In a way she felt embarrassed—after all, Kimie was only a child, no more than eleven years old, and already she managed her entire family perfectly. She reminded Asuka of someone from the past—someone she knew had existed and wasn't simply a fragment of her imagination—but she could not recall either the girl's face nor her name. The redhead passed the next hour scrubbing and rinsing, lost in her own thoughts.
Later, when the girl was about to leave, she suddenly turned around and threw her arms around the redhead.
"I really like you, Asuka-san," she said, "and I hope you stay here forever."
= = = = = = =
That damn ring.
Misato groaned and flapped her arm around wildly, trying unsuccessfully to shut it off. Finally she sat up and stretched—she had learned the hard way that sleeping in the driver's seat was not very comfortable. Vaguely she remembered pulling off the main road and turning off the engine in a deserted park.
Her cell phone rang again. Misato picked it up and flipped it open with one hand, still resting her chin on the top of the steering wheel.
"Misato? Is that you?"
Misato pulled herself up to sitting position and glanced at the clock above her car radio. It read 3:49.
"Misato?"
I should have been there three hours ago, Misato thought groggily. Damn.
"I'm coming."
= = = = = = =
"I'm sorry," Misato said shamefully, several hours later.
"You ought to be," Ritsuko scolded. "Shinji's waiting for nearly five hours."
"Shinji?"
As Misato watched in surprise, the taller, more mature son of Ikari Gendo stepped in front of the blonde. Ritsuko moved aside, enjoying Misato's shocked expression.
"Hello, Misato."
"Hello," Misato managed, and followed it up with, "Are you coming with us too?"
The younger, shier boy emerged from within the businessman. "Is that all right?"
"Of course."
Ritsuko and Shinji got into the back of their car with their respective bags and Misato turned the key. She stamped her foot on the accelerator and the car jerked forward. Ritsuko crashed into the front seat and was thrown back a moment later when the car thudded to a stop at the stop sign. Shinji clutched one arm tightly around his precious laptop and threw out the other to keep Ritsuko from flying through the windshield.
"Your driving skills haven't improved at all, I see," Ritsuko commented sourly.
Misato shrugged and stamped on the accelerator again. The car tipped precariously, balancing on the edge of its wheels as it rounded a corner. Misato twirled the wheel wildly and the car landed with a thump on all four wheels.
Ritsuko sighed.
= = = = = = =
She had watched the sun slide lazily overhead, then over to the other side of Misato's house, and now it was slowly sinking down over the treetops, casting a warm glow of orange down on the earth.
Asuka sat on the front steps, her feet resting on the step below. Her legs were spread out slightly and her elbows were balanced on her knees, the base of her palms propping up her chin. Beside her, Kimie edged a bit closer and put her head on Asuka's upper arm. Neither of them spoke.
The cake was finished, iced neatly with some sweet concoction Kimie had brewed up. Together they had split a watermelon and decorated the top and sides with the reddest, frostiest centers of each slice. They had taken their time eating the rest of the slices, having competitions to see who could spit seeds farther. Asuka had taken great care to place the cake in the center of the dishes Misato had prepared, feeling as if she were a child Kimie's age.
At last there was nothing to do, and the two resigned to waiting idly.
Asuka was torn between wanting them to show up quickly and wanting them to stall a bit. She was a bit afraid of meeting Ritsuko; in the last month she had spoken to no one but Misato, Hazuki-san, and the children who came to eat watermelons. The very idea of meeting a stranger unnerved her. From Misato's descriptions, Ritsuko had seemed a very down-to-earth person. Asuka wondered if she would be strict, and hoped that she would make a good impression on the doctor.
Thinking of all this, she shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?"
"No," Asuka said quickly, but the younger girl immediately took over her small jacket and draped it over Asuka's shoulders.
I should be the one playing her mother, Asuka thought, touched. Instead she's the one taking care of me.
She extended an arm and took Kimie into her embrace.
"Will your brothers be all right without you for so long?"
Kimie nodded, clearly as content as could be. Asuka let her rest in silence until some thirty minutes later, when the faint hum of an engine grew louder and louder until the old blue car came into sight.
"Misato-san, watch for the—!" Kimie cried, holding up a hand, but to no avail; Misato drove headlong into a small tree and cursed as she backed up. A shower of leaves sprinkled down over her windshield, and she turned on the wipers in an attempt to get rid of them. The back door opened and Ritsuko, apparently having had enough, stepped out of the still-moving car.
"Dr. Akagi." Asuka sprang up and ran over to her, bowing slightly. Ritsuko took her by the shoulder and brought her back up to a standing position.
"There's no need for that." She studied the redhead, who was staring, perplexed. "You're still very pretty, Asuka. You don't look like you've changed that much since—"
"I hope you weren't worried?" asked Misato, stepping out to join Ritsuko. "Sorry, I fell asleep along the way..."
But Asuka was already tuning out Misato's voice and looking at the third occupant of the car. The former pilot of Eva-01 was climbing out of the cramped backseat, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the roof. He glanced up and his dark eyes met Asuka's sapphire ones.
"...Shinji?"
Author's Notes: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter—there will be quite a bit of Shinji in the next chapter for all you Shinji fans. I'm sure you all can guess who Kimie is based on : )
Hmm...nobody seems to know the anime that Hazuki-san's name came from. Here's a hint: It's about a girl with throat cancer who wants to be a singer. (I'll reveal the name next time.)
Thanks for reading and again, drop me a review!
The doctor stared in surprise at the young man who stood outside her door. Shinji Ikari was not dressed in the white shirt and black pants that he had always worn, shying away from everyone. Instead, he was dressed smartly in a suit and tie with shiny black shoes, carrying a leather computer bag in one hand. He looked her directly in the eyes as he spoke.
"Come in." She stepped aside and gestured to her cramped living room. "If you don't mind, I'll be a few more minutes. Misato will be here any minute."
"All right."
Ritsuko hurried back into her room and hurriedly packed. Misato had called the day of her car crash and invited her over for the weekend. The doctor had apologized and explained that she couldn't get there since her car was totaled.
Misato had offered to come pick her up. Ritsuko thought this over, decided that Misato's driving skills had to have improved somewhat over the last decade, and agreed.
Ritsuko slung the bag over her shoulder and emerged a minute later. Shinji was sitting on one of her squashy armchairs, his bag leaning against the curved wooden leg. He was absorbed in his work, his fingers dancing over the keyboard of his laptop. Only when Ritsuko sat down in the seat next to him did he jump and quickly lay aside the laptop.
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.
"That's fine." Ritsuko sat back and clasped her hands together over her knee. They hadn't talked since the day of the crash, and Ritsuko shivered in remembrance—not of the crash, but of her boss's reaction later.
"So, Shinji, what do you do now?"
Shinji blinked and regained his confidence a moment later. "I'm working with Kensuke, actually," he began hesitantly. Then, more eagerly, "Kensuke never lost his love of taking photos. He's the main photographer for a new magazine in America, and I'm... I'm... well, the director of photography."
"Interesting. But who is Kensuke?"
A look of dawning spread over Shinji's face. He seized his laptop and began working enigmatically again, as Ritsuko watched. A moment later he whirled the computer around. The screen showed a smiling, freckled boy with slightly curly brown hair and round glasses.
Ritsuko raised an eyebrow.
"He was my classmate...back then," Shinji finished, somewhat weakly.
Ritsuko nodded then. "I remember Misato mentioning him."
A long pause followed.
"Uh, Ritsuko?"
"Yes?"
"Do Misato and Asuka know I'm coming?"
Ritsuko faltered. "I tried to call Misato last night and tell her of our change in plans, but only Asuka was home. She didn't know who I was, and I didn't want to tell her outright."
After all, how could she not invite Shinji? And if Misato had changed as little as it appeared she had, another guest wouldn't make any difference. It was Asuka she was concerned about.
"Will she still hate me?" Shinji asked in a small voice.
"No." The word escaped Ritsuko's lips immediately, but Shinji did not look convinced. "She's been through a lot—no one knows where she's been for the last twelve years—and from what Misato's told me, she's not the same person she was before. But Shinji, tread carefully around her, all right?"
"I will."
Pause.
Ritsuko looked at her watch. "Where is Misato?"
= = = = = = =
The little children crowded around Asuka as they waved to Misato. The purple-haired woman waved back with a "peace" sign, backed out of her driveway, and promptly ran over her flowers. The children groaned.
Misato pulled her tires out of the soggy ground with a squelching sound and rolled down her window. "I'll be back this afternoon, Asuka."
"Drive carefully, Misato," Asuka implored. "You didn't get very much sleep last night."
Misato laughed and shifted her gaze to the kids clustering around Asuka, much like goslings to their mother. "And you kids, be nice to Asuka."
"We will!" they chorused. Misato waved and drove off.
"Asuka-san." One of the older girls, about seven or eight, was tugging on her skirt. "Can we make a cake?"
"We saw Misato-san cooking really late last night," her brother added. "Will there be a big party when she comes back?"
"Well, I'm not sure," Asuka responded hesitantly, but the persistent begging of the children soon won her over. "All right, let's get to work."
With a loud cheer, everyone hurried into the kitchen, with Asuka following in the rear.
"Stop!" a feminine voice called, and immediately the chatter died down. The oldest of them all, a tall-dark-haired girl named Kimie, immediately took control. The boys who had been reaching for flour and sugar stopped in mid- motion, as did several of the younger children, who were noisily dragging a chair across the floor. "Nobody move until Asuka-san tells you what to do."
It feels so strange to give orders—and even stranger to see them obeying, Asuka thought, as she directed the younger children to bring her bowls and measuring spoons while the older ones lifted the bags of sugar and flour up to the table. When all the ingredients and containers had been assembled, the children gathered around the square table. Asuka found a recipe and began to read it.
"Four cups of flour," she read, and handed the measuring cup to the child sitting nearest. "Miki, will you measure out four cups of flour and pour them in?"
Miki got up and cautiously obeyed. The third cup slid from her chubby hand, spilling its contents upon the table. Some of the older boys laughed, and Miki looked as if she were about to cry. Asuka stood up, automatically silencing them, and helped the little girl to pour the last two cups.
It never occurred to Asuka how much faster the cake would have been completed, had she done it herself. She was having fun, helping the children read and measure out ingredients, slowly growing into her role as leader of the clan.
Several hours later the cake finally entered the oven, and Asuka sighed in relief. But before she could even turn around, Kimie yelled, "Makoto, what have you done to your pants?!"
Makoto looked down and stood up. A shower of sugar fell to the floor.
"I'll clean it up," Asuka volunteered. Several of the kids sighed in relief, and all appeared exhausted. "You can go home if you want. You must all be tired from getting up early to say goodbye to Misato-san."
The boys stood up and ran out of the house, but several of the girls stopped to hug Asuka and thank her. When she had seen them all off safely, she returned with a wet rag—only to find that Kimie was already on her knees, scrubbing at the mess of sticky batter.
"Kimie, you don't have to do that," Asuka cried out, both touched and worried at the sight of the young girl cleaning. "It's only eight o'clock. Your parents must be worried about where you are."
"I don't have any," she shrugged. "I'm in charge of Keiichi and Makoto at home."
Asuka remembered the two brothers running off with the rest. "Will they all right on their own?"
"They'll go home with someone else," Kimie assured her. Feeling that it would be useless to argue any more, Asuka got down on her knees and began cleaning up the spilled sugar.
"It must be a lot of work for you," Asuka commented quietly.
Kimie shrugged. "I'm used to it. There's a lot of cooking and cleaning to do, and since there was only me to do it, I grew into it pretty quickly."
Asuka nodded and continued to clean, feeling her face grow hot. In a way she felt embarrassed—after all, Kimie was only a child, no more than eleven years old, and already she managed her entire family perfectly. She reminded Asuka of someone from the past—someone she knew had existed and wasn't simply a fragment of her imagination—but she could not recall either the girl's face nor her name. The redhead passed the next hour scrubbing and rinsing, lost in her own thoughts.
Later, when the girl was about to leave, she suddenly turned around and threw her arms around the redhead.
"I really like you, Asuka-san," she said, "and I hope you stay here forever."
= = = = = = =
That damn ring.
Misato groaned and flapped her arm around wildly, trying unsuccessfully to shut it off. Finally she sat up and stretched—she had learned the hard way that sleeping in the driver's seat was not very comfortable. Vaguely she remembered pulling off the main road and turning off the engine in a deserted park.
Her cell phone rang again. Misato picked it up and flipped it open with one hand, still resting her chin on the top of the steering wheel.
"Misato? Is that you?"
Misato pulled herself up to sitting position and glanced at the clock above her car radio. It read 3:49.
"Misato?"
I should have been there three hours ago, Misato thought groggily. Damn.
"I'm coming."
= = = = = = =
"I'm sorry," Misato said shamefully, several hours later.
"You ought to be," Ritsuko scolded. "Shinji's waiting for nearly five hours."
"Shinji?"
As Misato watched in surprise, the taller, more mature son of Ikari Gendo stepped in front of the blonde. Ritsuko moved aside, enjoying Misato's shocked expression.
"Hello, Misato."
"Hello," Misato managed, and followed it up with, "Are you coming with us too?"
The younger, shier boy emerged from within the businessman. "Is that all right?"
"Of course."
Ritsuko and Shinji got into the back of their car with their respective bags and Misato turned the key. She stamped her foot on the accelerator and the car jerked forward. Ritsuko crashed into the front seat and was thrown back a moment later when the car thudded to a stop at the stop sign. Shinji clutched one arm tightly around his precious laptop and threw out the other to keep Ritsuko from flying through the windshield.
"Your driving skills haven't improved at all, I see," Ritsuko commented sourly.
Misato shrugged and stamped on the accelerator again. The car tipped precariously, balancing on the edge of its wheels as it rounded a corner. Misato twirled the wheel wildly and the car landed with a thump on all four wheels.
Ritsuko sighed.
= = = = = = =
She had watched the sun slide lazily overhead, then over to the other side of Misato's house, and now it was slowly sinking down over the treetops, casting a warm glow of orange down on the earth.
Asuka sat on the front steps, her feet resting on the step below. Her legs were spread out slightly and her elbows were balanced on her knees, the base of her palms propping up her chin. Beside her, Kimie edged a bit closer and put her head on Asuka's upper arm. Neither of them spoke.
The cake was finished, iced neatly with some sweet concoction Kimie had brewed up. Together they had split a watermelon and decorated the top and sides with the reddest, frostiest centers of each slice. They had taken their time eating the rest of the slices, having competitions to see who could spit seeds farther. Asuka had taken great care to place the cake in the center of the dishes Misato had prepared, feeling as if she were a child Kimie's age.
At last there was nothing to do, and the two resigned to waiting idly.
Asuka was torn between wanting them to show up quickly and wanting them to stall a bit. She was a bit afraid of meeting Ritsuko; in the last month she had spoken to no one but Misato, Hazuki-san, and the children who came to eat watermelons. The very idea of meeting a stranger unnerved her. From Misato's descriptions, Ritsuko had seemed a very down-to-earth person. Asuka wondered if she would be strict, and hoped that she would make a good impression on the doctor.
Thinking of all this, she shivered slightly.
"Are you cold?"
"No," Asuka said quickly, but the younger girl immediately took over her small jacket and draped it over Asuka's shoulders.
I should be the one playing her mother, Asuka thought, touched. Instead she's the one taking care of me.
She extended an arm and took Kimie into her embrace.
"Will your brothers be all right without you for so long?"
Kimie nodded, clearly as content as could be. Asuka let her rest in silence until some thirty minutes later, when the faint hum of an engine grew louder and louder until the old blue car came into sight.
"Misato-san, watch for the—!" Kimie cried, holding up a hand, but to no avail; Misato drove headlong into a small tree and cursed as she backed up. A shower of leaves sprinkled down over her windshield, and she turned on the wipers in an attempt to get rid of them. The back door opened and Ritsuko, apparently having had enough, stepped out of the still-moving car.
"Dr. Akagi." Asuka sprang up and ran over to her, bowing slightly. Ritsuko took her by the shoulder and brought her back up to a standing position.
"There's no need for that." She studied the redhead, who was staring, perplexed. "You're still very pretty, Asuka. You don't look like you've changed that much since—"
"I hope you weren't worried?" asked Misato, stepping out to join Ritsuko. "Sorry, I fell asleep along the way..."
But Asuka was already tuning out Misato's voice and looking at the third occupant of the car. The former pilot of Eva-01 was climbing out of the cramped backseat, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the roof. He glanced up and his dark eyes met Asuka's sapphire ones.
"...Shinji?"
Author's Notes: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter—there will be quite a bit of Shinji in the next chapter for all you Shinji fans. I'm sure you all can guess who Kimie is based on : )
Hmm...nobody seems to know the anime that Hazuki-san's name came from. Here's a hint: It's about a girl with throat cancer who wants to be a singer. (I'll reveal the name next time.)
Thanks for reading and again, drop me a review!