Past Thoughts
by Cynical Chaos
Standard Disclaimer: This is dedicated to Father Malvado who has a nasty habit of making me think. I started this as a way for me to vent my emotions through Shinji. I'm suprised at how much depth that we've achieved together. That's what happens when one loses control of his characters I suppose.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shinji, Asuka, or Neon Genesis Evagelion.
Shinji stepped into his old room and grabbed an armful of boxes. He had bought a place of his own and still had to move the last of the boxes into it. He grinned to himself. The move, of course, had been promted by Misato's louder than necessary exclamation that with her own room near the one that Asuka and he shared, that she hadn't gotten any decent amount of sleep since Asuka and he had started sleeping in the same room together. She demanded that we either get a place to ourselves our stop all night time activities. The latter, of course, had been stated with a wide, lecherous grin. As Shinji thought about that incident a bit more, his smile grew. His train of thought had drifted to Asuka's retort. "Night time activities? And what about you? I've seen you sneak out when you thought that everyone else was asleep!" Her mouth, Shinji remembered, had formed a lecherous grin of its own. "So how's Mister Kaji?" After that, and several quick negotiations on Shiniji's part, they had, collectively, agreed to get a new place for Asuka and Shinji. "With padded walls!" That had been Misato's parting comment. The box slipped from his grip, slamming onto the floor and his foot. Stifling a curse, he bent to pick up the box. As he did so, his old journal slipped out. Curiosity overwhelmed him and he opened it, looking through his past entries. He smiled at some, shook his head at others and, altogether, marveled at how drastically his life had changed since Asuka had stumbled over his musings. Out of a desire to relive his past days, and no small bit of mischief, he added what he decided would be the last chapter in this journal.
Change. The one thing that every man fears. Change. Everything changes and nothing is ever the same. Nothing. And by everything and nothing, I mean everything and nothing. Life. Seasons. Nature. Trains of thought and ways of life. After an adventure, no matter how small, you can't go back. Ever. You can't go back to the same thoughts, habits, the same life.
My name is Ikari Shinji. This is my journal and my way of getting out. Out of what, I have no idea. Responsibilities, or the thoughts that go with them. Maybe it's just my way of assuring myself that I exist. But I still feel better after writing down my thoughts or venting my emotions or just looking at what happened during my day.
Days. Everything that can happen, good or bad or life ending, can, and in my experience, does. I mean, my job, my life and the sole reason that I'm here in Tokyo-3 revolves around me saving the world by fighting the angels. Day after day. Always fighting for my life. But that's what I thought long ago, isn't it? I thought that all I fought for was my own existence in my father's eyes, if not my own. I came to Tokyo-3 thinking that my father wanted to renew our relationship, one that died long ago. So long ago, that it began, perhaps, when my mother died, more or less, at the hands of my father.
But, as I look back, I can see just how good my life has been since coming to Tokyo-3 and nearly dying at the hands of a psychotic driver named Misato, a huge monstrosity and the biggest robot I had ever and will ever see. I met Misato, my commanding officer, surrogate big sister, and would be street racer; Kaji who is always looking for the most beautiful of flowers; Asuka, now my girlfriend, who blows up occasionally at the smallest thing; Rei, distant, beautiful, but still my friend, and a host of others. So many people who love me and, if I may say so, look up to me. And if Asuka reads that last line, I'll end up on the coach learning what the true meaning of cold shoulder is. But it's true despite her vehement protests other wise. Why else would she have sought me out, after a fashion, and made her feelings, which she had, by her admission, hidden so well up till then?
Change. I've gone from a stubborn, willful, melancholy brat, to a "decent fighter." Friend, cohort, and, yes, even lover. So much change, but I don't fear it. I look forward to it, the good and the bad together.
He put the journal down in the middle of the floor, where Asuka would most assuredly stumble over it. Perhaps she would put him on "the coach," but the risk was worth it. Just for a chance at the past...
But days move on.
Fin
This is to my supporters, to those who actually thought that I was writing something that was more than 3 a.m. dribble.
Cynical Chaos