Maternis

Chapter 4- Aftermath....Oh, and the penguin's in here!

by Ronin-Masaki

Author's Futile Attempt to Save His Ass: Gainax owns Neon Genesis Evangelion and all the characters therein, not I. Hell, I can't even afford the price to own Gendo, and he's the one everyone hates.

I finally finished the chapter, more or less. I'm not sure if I want to add one more scene, but I'm pretty sure whoever still reads this swill's getting sick and tired of me stalling, so here we go.

Been a while since I wrote something new, and some would say too long...well...tough shit. I'm lazy. You knew this coming into the situation, so deal. Let's hope I remember how to do this. So, let's jump right in, lest I start rambling again, and proceed to the story.

It had been an exhaustive day for Shinji Ikari. After his foray into clothes shopping with his roommates, which he, like most young men who have endured such an ordeal, considered himself lucky to survive, he had been dropped off at the apartment on his own, as Misato and Asuka both had "other matters to attend to". He approached the door slowly, partly because of the numerous bags he had to carry, and opened it to find the inside of the apartment, which, to the fastidious boy, appeared something of a train wreck.

Closing the door behind him, he trudged his heavy load to where he remembered his room to be, seeing the painted sign of Shinji's Lovely Suite still on the door. Sliding the door open, he found that, unlike outside it, where empty Yebisu cans and instant-food wrappings littered the floor, his room had been untouched, the dusty, almost stagnant air the only indication to the young Ikari that time had passed outside the room since he last left it. He dropped the bags near his bed as he gazed around the room, the realization of just how long he had been gone starting to sink in. His SDAT still lay on the bed; picking it up, Shinji found that the battery had died out since. I'll have to replace that, he thought to himself as he rested the device back to its former spot. He then spotted his mother's cello, still perched in the corner. He gathered it in his hands, noticing with disdain that a thick layer of dust now coated it, and would have to be cleaned before he played anything on it again.

He left his room quietly, remembering the mess outside, and made his way to the kitchen for garbage bags, which he would undoubtedly need in order to make a dent in the mess that was the rest of the apartment. As he retrieved the bags from their resting place beside the sink (Where they were before, he noticed), he heard a pattering sound behind him, and turned to meet once more the fourth unofficial member of their household.

Pen-Pen had been about 3 years old when Misato rescued him from the lab, some ten years ago. As an elderly penguin, his once-black outer coating of feathers had grayed over the years, and he didn't move around as easily as he once did. He also noticed he couldn't hold his liquor as well as he used to, but damned if he would admit that; if nothing else, his drinking contests with the beer provider showed that. However, he did notice that more and more often, he found himself losing to her by greater and greater margins. He had just started to shake off his latest hangover as he waddled from his freezer "room" for something that resembled sustenance when he encountered the blue-haired stranger before him. Pen-Pen and the stranger locked eyes for a second as the bird sized him up. He doesn't SEEM like a threat, Pen-Pen thought to himself as he noticed the young man's slightly-hunched over posture, his light, if somewhat tired, disposition, and the look in the cobalt eyes of his...

Wait a second... the warm-water penguin thought to himself. This guy looks...familiar...hmmm, only one way to find out. And with that, Pen-Pen waddled closer to the stranger, giving the young man a solid "Wark".

Shinji smiled at the aging warm-water penguin as he headed toward the fridge to get out some fish, thawing it out some before beginning to prepare the bird's meal. As he cooked the fish, he noticed that throughout the entire course of preparation, the bird's gaze never left him, as if watching for something to happen. Finally, the fish had been cooked, a bit rare, as was Pen-Pen's tastes, then set it down in the bird's dish before him, along with an opened can of Yebisu to wash it down.

Pen-Pen gazed critically at the boy, then the meal he prepared for him. He sniffed lightly at it, as would a fine connoisseur, then took a bite. The bird's eyes widened as he tasted the fish, knowing only one person who made it like that. It IS him... Pen-Pen thought. The timid food provider has come back! With that, the penguin waddled toward him, faster than he had moved in years, until he reached the boy's leg, hugging it with his flippers.

"Wark wark wark wark wark wark? Wark wark wark wark wark wark wark wark wark?!" the bird squawked as he held onto the boy's leg for dear life. (Translation: "Where the hell have you been all this time? Do you have ANY idea what the beer provider's made me EAT since you've been gone?!")

Shinji grinned lightly and ran his fingers through the light, downy feathers on the penguin's head. "I know," the boy said as the penguin's grip slowly released. "It's good to be home."

"Mein Gott, how I hate this place."

Misato sighed and nodded slowly, as they weaved through the stones littering the Tokyo-3 cemetary, her expression tired.

"I know exactly what you mean, Asuka. Don't worry, I don't think we'll be long."

Misato wore a grim expression as they continued on through the garden of stone and death, determination the only thing keeping her from giving up on the entire trip and heading home to help her wayward charge settle back in. She hadn't drank anything that day, believing that doing something like what they were planning while even the slightest bit tipsy would have verged on sacreligious. On any other day, Misato would have gotten a laugh out of the idea of worrying over sacriledge, but now wasn't the time for laughter. They were here for a reason, a task that needed, that demanded, to be performed, and damnit, she was going to follow through with it.

After a few minutes of walking, both women stopped before a simple stone marker, gazing at it with a mix of sadness and relief. The marker held a simple epitaph, reading the following in plain, neat engraved kanji:

IKARI SHINJI

B. 2000 D. 2014

HERO OF THE ANGEL WARS

TREASURED FRIEND

And below that, a sloppier, more worn bit of text:

DEVOTED SON

Misato bit back a sob as she read the last line, tears threatening. She had engraved the last line herself, the very night they held the ceremony. Red-eyed and near-hysterical, she found her way to the grave, and under a moonless sky, scraped out the message with a small penknife. The hard stone dulled and later snapped the knife's blade, but it didn't matter to her then. To her, one of the things that needed to be said for all to know, the one thing that helped define the boy, was the one thing left largely unsaid in life, and she'd be damned if she would let it remain unsaid in his death.

Misato breathed a heavy sigh, wiping her eyes to ward off the tears that were coming, and looked to Asuka, who was brandishing a heavy, brutal-looking sledgehammer.

"Do you want the first swing, or should I?" Asuka asked, hefting the instrument of destruction in her hand.

Misato gave a small, grim smile and nodded. "Go nuts, Asuka. Don't stop until it's rubble."

As Misato watched Asuka lift the hammer above her head for the first strike, memories came back to her, memories of That Day. She remembered how the entire bridge crew had shown up, how Makoto and Shigeru had bowed their heads out of respect for the fallen warrior, how Maya had tried to fight back tears to no avail, sobbing heavily the entire time. Even Subcommander Fuyutsuki had shown up, his expression stoic the entire time, but still grieved. His friends had shown up too, their mischievous grins and leering eyes replaced with pain as the finality of the event sunk in. She remembered how Kensuke tried to get a shot of the assemblage there on his camcorder, and how Toji had knocked it out of his hand with such authority, such violence promised in his glare, his threat of making the boy eat the camera if he tried to do it again. Toji might not have cried that day, Misato figured, but she knew the young pilot's death had shook his world to the core. She remembered seeing Hikari there as well, crying even more than Maya, and how he held her so closely, and thought more than once that she was probably supporting him, helping him keep it together, more than he was helping her.

Of course, then there was Asuka and Rei, who with the exception of the then-Major, stayed there the longest, both of them silent as they stood at the tombstone as if in vigil. Rei gave no difference in her expression, as far as anyone else could tell, with the exception of silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Asuka didn't cry, she remembered, at least not in front of them, but she did recall quite a few times of how she would turn away, unable to bear the reality of what she was seeing. Looking back, she realized that of all those present, they were probably the most affected. Regardless of how well he was liked by either of them, they had to give him respect of how well he piloted, and how he gave of himself without care. His last act to them, so they all thought, was to lead the charge against the Angel, an act he paid dearly for.

Misato thought back on all the nights since That Day, all the exhausting nightmares that had gripped her so tightly she would wake up screaming just to escape them, and knew that the worst of them all couldn't compare to That Day.

Misato sighed as the stream of memories dried up, slowing to a trickle and then stopping as Asuka finished swinging at the headstone's remnants. Not much remained now, the largest chunk of stone in the pile not much more than the size of a 50 yen coin. Asuka turned to the Colonel, a tired smile on her face.

"Rubble enough for you?" Asuka asked with a light pant, her auburn hair sticking lightly to her face.

"It'll do," Misato said with a smile as she took the sledgehammer from her, giving the pile one more swing for good measure. She dropped the sledgehammer aside and turned to the younger woman, motioning toward where they left the Alpine.

"Come on, we got a party to plan and a young man at home to tease."

"You mean boy," Asuka corrected with a smile of her own as they headed back for the car.

Shinji breathed a sigh as he tied up the last of the trash bags. The act was not uncommon at all for the young pilot; in fact, considering his luck at jan-ken-po, trash detail was something he was quite used to, as with the rest of the household chores. But there lay a difference between everyday cleanup at the Katsuragi/Sohryu/Ikari apartment and cleanup of the same after one of his guardian's notorious parties. With everyday cleaning, the messes usually focused in the kitchen, with trifling amounts in the living room. There was, of course, Asuka's and Misato's rooms as well, but he never had to clean them. The former because of the threat of bodily harm if he so much as set foot in there, the latter because of the sheer volume and severity of the mess within, mixed with Misato's distaste for order.

Messes after parties, on the other hand, seemed almost like pandemic illnesses in how they spread, between the leftover bits of snacks, the dirt and mud that somehow inevitably made its way in, the spatterings of cigarette butts found in various dirty dishes scattered around the house, andthe ever-present collection of empty beer cans littered all over every inch of the slightly-cramped space he called home. And to the fastidious young charge, this particular illness only had one sure-fire treatment: hours upon hours of his time cleaning, mixed with a good deal of vigilence on his part to catch the stray bits that always seemed to gather in the unlikeliest of places.

After setting the last of the filled bags on the balcony to be taken out in the morning, Shinji breathed a sigh, absently brushing aside the long steel-tinted lock of hair that fell in front of his face as he inspected his work. While not to his normal standards, nodded in approval. It'll do until tomorrow, he thought to himself as he fought back a yawn. It's getting late, and at least no one'll have to watch their step in the morning. A slight shuffling noise behind the couch perked the boy's

ears suddenly, and as he rounded the sofa, he realized he had one more task before he could sleep: see that his guardian made it back to her room, as he found her lying there passed out, snoring lightly while clutching a half-empty can of Yebisu.

Having seen Misato in similar states in the past (as well as having an idea of just how much she"celebrated" that night), Shinji knew that Misato wouldn't make it back to her room without his help, as when she drank that heavily, she became hard to awaken and nearly impossible to move. Or, at least, she was seven years ago, when he last helped her to her room after one of her parties.

Shinji bent down slowly, carefully sliding his arms under his guardian as to not wake her before hefting her up with a small grunt. I remember her being heavier, he thought to himself idly when he noticed that not only did she still have her grip on her Yebisu, but hadn't even spilled a drop. A slight smile crossed his lips as he thought to himself, Some things never change. It was then that he felt her stir slightly, opening her eyes with an almost child-like confusion as she looked around, before her eyes found his, and a soft, lazy smile replaced her look of confusion.

"Shin-chan," Misato half-mumbled as she recognized him, her head nuzzling closer to his chest as he carried her toward her room. "I didn't think you had it in you to take me to bed like this...bold move." She giggled lightly as the young Ikari's cheeks flooded crimson. "Still so fun to tease....my Shin-chan."

"...Please don't say things like that," Shinji replied quietly as he manuvered his way through the doorway to her room, carefully minding her head as he entered as well as the mess in the room on his way to her bed. Easing her down gently, he smiled lightly as she reflexively curled up. "Sleep well, Misato-san." He took only a second more to cover her up before heading for the door.

"Shinji?" The boy turned around to face Misato as her head poked up a bit. "...Welcome home, Shinji-kun. We missed you."

Shinji smiled, his tired cobalt eyes finding a bit of spark despite the late hour. "It's good to be home, Misato-san. I missed you all too." And with that, he left her room, closing the door behind him. Misato smiled as sleep creeped in on her, still remembering her young charge's smiling face. Her last thought before sleep claimed her fully centered on his eyes as he smiled. I might just have to watch myself around him from now on after all, Misato thought. There's something in those eyes of his that are just a bit more dangerous than I like.

"BAKA!! Where's breakfast?!"

Shinji groaned softly as the banging on his door grew louder, reluctantly pulling him up from his bed. He glanced at his alarm clock, its reading eliciting another, deeper groan from the young man. He had been lucky the past couple of mornings, as both women had left him alone, not accustomed to him being in the apartment. The fact that he was a morning person helped as well, as he usually awoke before the two women anyway. It seemed today, though, that Shinji's luck had run out.

"BAKA! I won't ask again!!"

"Hai, hai....I'm awake," he answered as he dragged himself toward his recently-filled closet. He rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes as the assault on his door finally ceased.

"Then answer when I call you, damnit! Hurry up and get out here, we've got a lot to do today."

Shinji winced as he remembered exactly what she alluded to. The synch tests, he thought, mentally groaning as he picked out something to wear.

"Can you believe the nerve of that boy? I mean here we are, sitting out here starving, waiting on him, and he's sleeping in, taking his sweet time!"

Misato rolled her eyes in amusement, a hint of a smile quirking on her lips as she listened idly to Asuka's latest tirade while enjoying her favorite breakfast: hair of the dog that bit her. She usually just tuned out the younger woman, as these kinds of rants occurred fairly often, but considering the topic of discussion, Misato thought it better to try to cut it short, knowing just why Shinji had slept in.

"Aw, ease up on him some, Asuka. We don't need to be at NERV until 10, and besides, he was up late straightening up."

Asuka let out an exasperated "hmph" as she sat down, crossing her arms. Inside, though, her aggression for her fellow pilot began to fade. After all, Asuka had cleaned up after a few parties herself, and from what the apartment looked like last night, and how it looked at least acceptable now, she figured that Shinji had been up until the wee hours of the morning getting the apartment that way. Her train of thought derailed, though, when he rushed into the kitchen, getting out what was needed with an animated, almost confident skill that hadn't faded a bit during his seven-year-long nap.

Within minutes, Shinji had already made Pen-Pen his breakfast and was working on his roommates'. Shinji set Pen-Pen's plate down just as the warm-water penguin emerged from his freezer, and noticing the food, began tearing into it ravenously, causing Shinji to gaze on in mild shock.

"What's with Pen-Pen? I've never seen him like this before."

Asuka shook her head with a chuckle. "He's been having to live off of instant and curry," she replied simply.

Shinji's expression of shock turned to that of horror, his eyes widening as he paled lightly. "Y-you mean...he's been eating Misato-san's cooking?" Misato bristled slightly at the criticism of her cooking while Asuka merely grinned and nodded. Shinji kneeled down to face Pen-Pen as he finished his breakfast, his eyes averted from the penguin's. "I'm sorry, Pen-Pen," Shinji said meekly as he wrapped the full penguin in a hug. "Can you forgive me?"

Pen-Pen thought a bit as the young Ikari finally released his hold. "Wark wark wark wark, wark wark wark waaark," Pen-Pen replied. (Translation: "Not just yet, but you're off to a damned good start.") Shinji scrambled away as Misato flung her empty Yebisu can at him, her irritation fueld his less-than-kind critique of her cooking and Asuka's poor attempts to hide her amusement. Pen-Pen waddled his way toward his freezer as the mingling of noises from Asuka's laughter, Shinji's frantic apologies, empty cans clanking against various surfaces, and Misato's cries of "Stand still, damn you!" grew. He's still got it, Pen-Pen thought as he escaped the noise. Was that beer-battered I tasted? ...That boy is an ARTISTE. Pen-Pen smiled as he curled up for a mid-morning nap, the calamity outside barely audible.