True Love Waits Chapter 13
Adam Kadmon
Disclaimer: I don't own Evangelion or Radiohead. But I'd like to believe I at least own the ideas I present in this story.
She dreamt of a world ruled by a purple ogre. It roared and ended her slumber.
"Huh?"
An alarm was beeping, an incessant, annoying, rapid-fire electric stutter that tore through the soft, still quiet of the morning. Misato's arm flailed out, blindly searching for a way to silence her immortal, daily enemy. Or failing that, at least hit the snooze button. It was only when her hand dipped down, finding no resistance and nearly toppling her out of bed, that she remembered where she was.
The alarm stopped.
"Sorry," a soft voice told her.
She cracked an eye open and found herself in Shinji's bedroom. He was reclining beside her on his elbows, his eyes wide, and awake, and intently on her. She shifted subtly, reaffirming the clothing on her body, and the fact that nothing more than a strained "sleep tight" passed between them last night. What was so damn interesting, then?
"You set the alarm," she said with a sluggish grin. "Even though it was so late last night."
"We both have work today," Shinji said, still staring.
"Don't remind me." She blinked lazily. "What? What are you looking at?" She could tell he was trying not to blush.
"I just…" He broke off and sighed, almost like a defeat. Then he finally colored. "I just sometimes have to stop and realize how beautiful you are."
The clock changed numbers beside the bed. Lazy sunlight stretched across the ceiling from the cracks in the window blinds. Within the walls water moved in pipes. Someone a floor above them stepped on a creaky floorboard and it sounded like a wry cough. Misato stared at Shinji, remotely noting that in the tired moments of the morning, when his eyes were still sleepy and his hair was tussled and his mouth seemed to effortlessly curve up, it was the one time no one could ever look at him and hold a thought regarding his feminine looks. He was unmistakably male in these instances, but no less attractive.
And while it was far from the first time she had seen him in such a light, and while it was far from the first time he called her beautiful, it still made her smile and feel warm.
And laugh in his face.
"What?" Shinji asked, indignant. "What's so funny?"
"God, how can you always say stuff like that with a straight face?" She panted lightly, clutching her sides. She drew her legs up in a surprisingly vulnerable pose. She was unashamedly hoping he might attack her. "You're so corny first thing in the morning."
Shinji turned away with an annoyed snort, simultaneously killing Misato's hopes for some rough makeup sex and his own desire for maybe solving at least a few of their problems with a gentle lead-in. He kept his face turned to the side facing his door and stared at the hall to the bathroom, trying to think of a way to return to the topic.
He almost swore out loud when he felt Misato begin to kiss his neck.
Not every problem can be seduced away, he thought with a disappointed sigh.
They were her usual kisses: the rough, hard, to-the-point embraces he expected from her. In this respect, Misato suffered from the same affliction Mana was liable to. They were both unable or unwilling to take their time with their kisses, lacking the wandering exploration Shinji liked. Of course he never said a thing, opting for the blind hope she'd someday pick up on his desires.
Not that he disliked the heavier aspects, he just felt a little more time spent with playful, gentle embraces could make the experience last longer and gain greater intimacy. But both women he had kissed in his life had one track minds in this respect: kissing led to sex. There was no way around it or through it. It followed a strict course and there was no deviating from the path.
"Misato…" he groaned.
While it wasn't the kind of groan she wanted, at least he was talking again.
"Yeah?" she drawled, taking the time to nip at the thin stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder.
"Don't."
She faltered at the abruptness of it, the exhaustion in his voice.
"What do you mean?" she asked, recovering admirably. "Why else did you set the alarm an hour early?"
"I wanted to give you enough time to go home and change."
"I can do that at work," Misato said. "I keep a spare in my office." She started nuzzling his jaw, nibbling her way up to his ear, where he was surprisingly sensitive. She captured his lobe with her front teeth and tugged gently. "Come on…"
He sat up with a single angry motion, still keeping his eyes from her. He couldn't face her, he couldn't bear to see the rejection he knew would be in her face.
"I said don't."
"Oh… okay," Misato said after a long silence.
A longer silence followed. Shinji sat rigid, unmoving. Misato wasted the time glancing between his back and the clock by the bed. She wished he was someone else, anyone else. She wished he would yell at her, call her names, make her beg forgiveness. Then they could go back to where they were and be happy again.
"I'm sorry." She didn't know how else to make him see that. "I really am. You… you know that, right?"
Shinji ran a hand through his hair. His other was an unrepentant ball of knuckles and angry pain at his side.
"I don't…" He broke off with a sigh. "I don't want you to feel like I'm, I don't know, punishing you or anything. I just…"
"Then let me prove it," she said gently, turning him halfway around. "Let me prove how sorry I am."
Misato made to kiss him, not fast enough to deprive him of choice, but not slow enough to allow him to back out. She tried her best to let her emotions flow through the connection. And she felt him sigh. His lips were hard and immobile under hers. He pushed her away lightly after a moment, but kept his eyes from hers. Misato began to blink very quickly, feeling humiliated and ashamed.
"I…" She bit her lower lip. "Do you still love me?"
"Yes," Shinji said softly. He hated himself for asking what he did. "Do you still love me?"
There was a pause.
"Of course." She sat up properly, kneeling behind him. "Of course I do. I—"
"Then why?"
Misato winced. His tone wasn't angry or even confused. He sounded like it was his fault. He sounded like he was questioning his executioner.
She instantly thought of a dozen excuses, self-deprecating rationales, and more than a few angry accusations at Kaji. But she knew none of them would bring about any actual resolution. Nothing she could use for an answer would satisfy the actual problem. What did he want her to say? What would lead them back to yesterday? What was she supposed to do?
The question that kept gnawing the back of her mind bit down.
Why isn't he angry at me?
"I don't know what you want me to say," Misato told him. "I don't know why. I don't know why I went to a bar instead of coming home to you. I don't know why I felt like I was alone in the world. I don't know why seeing that man again made me act like a child… and I don't know why you're pretending like you're not ready to hit me."
Shinji visibly cringed.
"Or at the very least scream at me until you're blue in the face," Misato went on. She sighed. "Shinji, I am sorry. I am sorrier than you could ever know. Because I finally found someone who accepts me for who I am, beer, neuroses, and sexual hang-ups included, and I can't for the life of me manage to just enjoy what I have."
Shinji did not speak.
"And I hate myself for it because you don't deserve it… but Shinji I cannot do this alone. I need help. I need you to not be my safety net. I love you more than anything and I don't want to screw this up but I… I can't hope to be completely honest with you unless you are too."
Shinji still did not speak.
"I love you. But I need to know you're not going to shut me out, or let me off the hook, or ignore the situation when one of us fucks up… okay, when I fuck up, but I have to know that if we're going to make this work we make sure we put everything we have into it. You have to tell me when I do something to piss you off."
Misato sighed when silence met her plea. Maybe hitting him with all this at once wasn't such a good idea.
"I'm… I'm trying too, you know," Shinji said quietly. His voice shook like a falling leaf. "It isn't like I'm not trying."
"I… I know…" Yeah. Definitely not a good idea.
They both knew it, but no more words were spoken until Shinji sighed like an old man.
"… but, well… you did really fuck up here you know."
Misato bit her tongue. Granted, it was the first time he swore in front of her, and the completely unnatural way it fell out of his mouth was uproariously funny to her, but she knew laughing would kill the mood.
"I know… but… I need you to tell me what I have to do. I could do everything I could think of but none of it would matter if I didn't know it was what you wanted. I… I know it's crappy but I need this. I have to ask you for it."
She asked, and she held her breath.
"You know what I need?" Shinji asked softly. He waited until she didn't answer. "Misato…" No honorific, no humbling inflection. "I need you. Not just the tough-as-nails captain, or the fun best friend, or my idealized vision. I need all of you. And… and if this is a part of you too then I'll accept it."
He cut her off at the first breath.
"And I am angry. I'm furious. I'll accept what you did but I don't know if I'll ever understand it. It'll take me a long time to forgive you." He shook his head. "I am angry at you. Angrier than I've been since…"
He broke off with a frown.
"I love you," he told her. "And I will continue to love you no matter how hard you make it for me." He paused to debate his next words. "But don't press your luck. I'm pretty adept at loving someone who isn't there, only… I don't want to do that anymore. But right now… it's what I need."
He turned to face her. He looked drained.
"I need to get ready for work," he told her.
"Oh! R-right. Right." Misato followed him out of the bedroom. "I guess I'll just—" Give him his space. "I'll…"
"I'll call you in… I don't know. I…"
"It's okay," she said. "Don't worry about it." She went to the front door and let her hand fall on the handle. She felt incredibly awkward. This ambiguity, this unknowing, it was driving her crazy already. Why couldn't he just deal in absolutes like everybody else? She sighed and put on a wan smile. "Take care, okay?" God that sounded so pathetic.
"I try."
The door opened. As if by its own will. Misato glanced at her hand like it rebelled against her. She looked back to Shinji, alone, and small, and tired in his living room. He couldn't even manage to smile for her benefit. She didn't want to leave him like this, but she could not defy his wishes. She wondered if he felt like a part of his insides had just died too.
"Goodbye, Shinji."
"Goodbye, Misato."
True Love Waits
Chapter 13
"I can't believe I missed that!" Asuka wailed, pressing her arms tightly against her chest.
Rei sighed. Hikari offered a nervous, long-suffering laugh.
"But, Asuka, well…"
"It was a week ago," Rei said. It was not the first time she had told her this, nor would it be the last.
To be precise it was six days ago since Shinji and Misato's little spat, and five days since Hikari had spilled the beans to the redhead. And four since Rei deigned to forgive the class rep for her amazing lack of common sense. There were simply things one didn't tell Ms. Soryu.
"I don't care!" Asuka growled. "Damn my delicate constitution. If I wasn't so prone to hardship and suffering I could have made my move on Ikari-san. Just imagine: me pursuing him on a dark, rainy street, his heart crying out for compassion and understanding. I'd catch him under a solitary street lamp and he'd pour his heart to me. Then I'd—"
Where does she come up with this nonsense? the albino thought.
Despite the facts that it had not been raining that day, and that if anyone was foolish to cross Shinji's path he probably would have torn their arms off, Rei kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to intrude into Asuka's imaginative happy time.
The day was done, and any meaningful pursuit of bettering themselves could thankfully be put off till tomorrow. The trio passed the gates of the middle school, storming through the throng of other students as they started back to their respective homes. Asuka's vocal mood for the past week had stopped any number of potential confessions, dates, party invitations and general pleasantness from the rest of the academic population. Surprisingly, Rei found herself wishing Asuka would be this pissed off more often.
"Ah, but you know," Hikari cut in gracefully as the redhead's monologue drifted into the R rated realm, "stuff like that doesn't really happen. Life isn't like a romance movie."
That was to be sure. Despite her crush, Hikari rested soundly at night believing adult relationships, Ikari's in particular, were founded on the idyllic bases of maturity and mutual affection. A lot of dreams died in the wake of Misato's last bender.
"Excuse me? Is this the same Ms. Horaki that always drags me along to those dumb flowery double features? And let us not forget what I found you writing about during last week's study hall." Asuka smirked as the brunette blushed into silence. "Thought so."
"But… still…" Hikari pressed in a small squeak.
"But nothing. I was waylaid by a dumb cold, you were too chicken, and lord knows blue over here will never do anything. My poor Ikari-san is trapped by that harlot Katsuragi."
If I kill her now, the pale girl thought, Horaki will be the only witness.
"I knew she couldn't keep him," the redhead spat, waving any more protests off.
Rei frowned.
"I don't think it would have mattered if you were there anyway," Hikari said in what she couldn't help but think was uncharacteristically brave. Or suicidal. "I mean, Ikari-san looked sort of… angry, you know? I think he wanted to be alone."
"Says the girl with so much experience with men," Asuka snapped. "Listen. I've had to put up with enough pathetically delusional boys to have some actual insight. Ikari-san was hurt, and angry and most importantly he was vulnerable. How could you pass up such an opportunity?"
"To do what?" Hikari asked. Honestly, the thought of her polite and thoughtful Ikari getting mad was a little scary. She stopped abruptly to blush. My Ikari? What am I thinking?
Asuka rolled her eyes.
"What do you think? I would've finally been able to let him see me."
Hikari, in typical fashion following her previous line of thought, blushed. Asuka, in typical fashion following her increasingly scatter-brained friend's lapses in common sense, scowled.
"Not like that, weirdo. Well, probably not. But that's not the point." Asuka gritted her teeth. "Damn it! It isn't fair! You got to see Ikari-san full of passion! Ayanami has all the luck!"
"Hey," Hikari said, glancing around in confusion. "Where is Rei?"
She was several blocks away, deciding several minutes ago on a slightly more circuitous route to home in order to avoid any more idiocy. Sadly, Rei had never been particularly successful in her attempts to evade it.
Thus it was without any genuine surprise she saw Shinji briskly walking on a street, undoubtedly heading towards the school with the intent of seeing her home. Cosmic irony always felt like a punch in the gut.
"Wonderful," Rei muttered. Or growled, if anyone was close enough to actually hear it. She turned around, hoping he hadn't caught sight of her accursedly lurid blue hair yet.
Which of course meant that he did.
"Ayanami!" he called after her, running to catch up. "I thought I missed you."
Rei discreetly massaged the bridge of her nose.
Why must my life exist as a poorly scripted soap opera?
"It has been awhile," the pale girl stated. She refrained from the derogatory remark on the tip of her tongue, something along the lines of 'trouble in paradise?' Then she pondered why she stopped herself. Somehow, the idea of her guardian ceasing to see him seemed ridiculous. She shrugged it off. "Still having troubles with Misato?"
Shinji looked away in slight amazement of her continual bluntness. His mouth opened, then closed.
"We've decided to… slow down a bit. Catch our breath." He glanced at her and was pleasantly surprised with her raised eyebrows.
"Slow down?" she repeated. Rei had heard that often enough to know it was merely a precursor to the formal termination of a relationship. But despite the weight she felt she gave her words, her companion smiled lightly.
"We're not going to break up or anything, I swear. I wouldn't allow it. I love her too much." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His head tilted forward, more words ready to come out, but he stopped. Shinji shook whatever it was off and went on. "We just have some things to work through."
Rei was not surprised by that. Yes, there were definitely things to work through. Strangely, she was not irritated by his lack of expanding on what said things were, but accepted it as part of the vast, shadowy conspiracy adults held over children regarding their connections. And to be completely honest, it was really none of her business.
"She says I'm too passive," Shinji stated. Rei's head whipped up to him, outraged he dared to break her rule. He missed it completely. "So… I'm going to try and be… well, not aggressive, but… more open." He stopped to blush again. "Actually, that's why I'm here. I don't really know if you like surprises or not, but… heh, I hope you don't hate me for testing this all out on you a little."
"I do not hate you," she said, her voice somewhere between indignation and exhaustion. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her.
"I'm glad." He paused, waiting for some invisible signal. "Just… it's stupid but I hope you can… kind of see this as a thank you."
"For what?"
Shinji just smiled.
Was he always this infuriating? Rei wondered. Yet again she wondered how on earth her life had arrived at this point. Was this punishment for some previous existence of unimaginable sin? Was she the reincarnation of Stalin? That almost seemed poetic: trapped in a teenage girl's body with the most liberal of guardians. And conversing with what appeared to be the most obscure definition of a man she had ever come across.
She tried to imagine exactly why he was staying with Misato. Despite his unmistakable membership to the male species, Shinji never struck her as being particularly obsessed with sex. Or he just hid it well. Whichever the case, it ruined her original thesis on the underlying foundation of the relationship, namely, the mutual sating of hormones. Any other reason was originally unthinkable for the girl. So, the actual explanation must be somewhere else, perhaps in the hazy, slightly ludicrous concept of genuine emotional love. As poorly as she understood it, it was the only option left for Rei to clarify things. And as far as she was concerned, both adults in her life seemed to embrace this idea wholeheartedly, which meant that she too would have to accept it at some point.
Despite her intelligence and maturity, she was still a teenager. Any real thoughts of the future eluded her. The here and now were her whole reality. It was not living in the moment, the advice her guardian had given her so many times, but a sense of stasis, of being static, immobile. That nothing would ever change. Despite the fact that so much had changed for her recently. An adult teenager's mind is a wonderfully contradicting place.
So for her the moment Shinji swore he wouldn't break up with her guardian, Rei took it to heart, so to speak. It wasn't any sentimentality for the gesture, nor was it a sense of idealized romance. It was the reality of the here and now, and for her, the unshakable reality of tomorrow as well. The two of them were together and that would not change, apparently no matter what either of them did. Rei tried to wonder if that was a good thing or not. Rei wondered if he had truly forgiven Misato.
She wondered exactly how forgiving a human being Ikari Shinji really was. Looking at him now she found it hard to believe he was any different than the faceless droves passing her in the streets. But she knew he was not.
Did he forgive his father for killing his mother, and then playing God with her remains? Did he forgive the man for nearly killing him as well? Did he forgive Kirishima Mana for deceiving him for seven years before tearing out his heart? Did he forgive Misato for being a party to that? Why wasn't he a bitter, miserable, ruined man?
Rei was the first person to admit her life had its fair share of emotionally crippling horrors. But she couldn't imagine living day to day after something as atrocious as Shinji's life. She couldn't imagine herself pretending to be content and satisfied with a dead-end job, stunted maturity and a painful love life. Rei couldn't dream what was so appealing about humanity that someone like Shinji would continually come crawling back for more punishment. From the government, from Misato, from herself, from God… was the alternative truly so unimaginable for him?
For a long time the thought had been itching at the back of her mind. A tiny, nagging prick at the edge of her consciousness. That day she discovered his past, the day she found out he was lucky to be alive let alone sane, the idea had finally clicked for her. She and Ikari Shinji were intrinsically different people.
It wasn't that she considered him a kindred spirit any time before that, but the reality of the truth was disheartening. She was different from him, on a fundamental level. She was different from Misato, too. From Asuka, Hikari, Dr. Akagi, Maya, her teachers, her peers, the rest of humanity. Human beings were doomed to live their lives alone without any contact other than superficial, transitory distractions and momentary pleasures. They were doomed to be apart, the walls of their hearts never touching, their spirits forever locked away within their flesh until the empty void of death finally freed them of the slow solitary madness of living. There was no greater understanding through love, there was no soulful epiphany to be found from other people. There were only delusions and fantasies and pathetic dreams. All humans were fundamentally alone.
And it made her sad. What was the point, then? Why did people trick themselves into staying alive? Did they honestly believe that it all meant something? That this life was meaningful and beautiful and worth living? Why did they keep trying? Why did she?
Why didn't she just take Misato's gun and end her misery? Why didn't she swallow everything she could find in the medicine cabinet? Why didn't she simply leap out in front of the next speeding car and finally bid farewell to this mortal coil?
"Hold on!"
Rei's step was halted by a hand on her shoulder. She instantly bristled, feeling a well of fury bubble up that she didn't know she had. Her head whipped back to scowl at whoever was fool enough to touch her. She had learned over the years that red eyes and facial impartiality worked wonders to keep people away.
Well, most people. Most normal, quick-witted, bright people. Rei begrudgingly admitted that Shinji was, sadly enough, not one of them.
"You almost walked into the intersection," he said, a mix of anger and concern. "Be careful."
For someone as traditionally terrified of physical contact as he was, Shinji surprisingly kept his hand on the girl's shoulder. Well, not so much surprising as it was rash and unwise and poorly thought out. Rei gave his errant limb a flaying glare and an impatient, nearly inaudible groan from her throat.
Seeing her face, and feeling the temperature drop a few degrees, Shinji retracted his hand, holding it up like a talisman to ward off evil.
"Ah, um, sorry. But, ah, you were… you didn't look like you were slowing down." He tried to shrink away. "Sorry."
Shinji backed off as her face did not alter in any perceivable way. He was never good at reading people anyway. Hell, he was never good at basic human interaction. He supposed it was largely in part due to his innate fear regarding others. He just couldn't anticipate what they would say or do. It left him perpetually on edge and nervous. Shinji had become, over the years, fairly adept at reacting to the situation, of playing it by ear, but the terror never let go. What if he offended someone? What if they left him alone? What if they found out how boring and pathetic and worthless he really was? It was like he was afraid of living.
Well, he perpetually reasoned, better to be a well-trodden door mat than a solitary pristine one. He glanced at the albino's continued irritation.
Right?
Why did he have to… touch me again? Rei huffed in her mind. Who cared if he may have just saved her life. It didn't require he touch her, did it? And God damn it if her stupid shoulder didn't stop tingling she was going to physically injure someone.
For not the first or last time, Rei cursed Misato. Specifically, her style of parenting. While Rei was without question intellectually gifted and mature, and while her caretaker afforded certain invaluable life lessons, Misato herself was oddly quiet on particular subjects. Oh, to be sure, she freely offered dating advice and insight into some of the lesser known and less desirable aspects of men, but the actual crux of the matter, of details and fine points was conspicuously absent from any speech. Her total knowledge on the subject lay somewhere between her friends, dry text, the media, and Misato's voracious yet private appetites.
Technically speaking, Rei knew about sex, about the physical proximity required for the act. While it was something she never personally saw herself participating in, she could nearly grasp why others would want to. And not just for the promised release of climax that seemed to be the sole draw for many, but rather for the sense of closeness to another human being. But the level of vulnerability needed left her feeling dizzy. Not the good kind of dizzy Asuka and Misato spoke of so often, but the kind where she was afraid she'd pass out or vomit.
Physicality was never part of her life. Even her parents, before their deaths, were never really the hug and kiss types. And while her current guardian was anything but celibate, her bodily affections were reserved for her lovers. As grabby as the woman was with Shinji, there was always an unspoken physical detachment between her and Rei. As if the exchange of bodily fluids was needed for any kind of material display.
She knew love was not required. Living with Misato for so long, she knew it could actually be a hindrance. But Rei had difficulty connecting the emotional to the physical. Normally, when someone touched her, for example Hikari's over enthusiasm for friendship or the corporeal horrors of gym class, it registered as nothing butpressure and warmth. Nothing more. To be sure it was uncomfortable, but it never evolved into anything beyond that.
And now here was Shinji, someone she was beginning to possibly think about considering being more than merely tolerable, and he had to keep touching her. Why couldn't it have been someone else to halt her step into the blur of traffic? Why not that frazzled mother of two behind her, or even that weighted man with the dirty stubble? Anyone else. Anyone else and she wouldn't be so affected. Anyone else and she'd be able to shrug it off like she always did.
Anyone else whose absence or death wouldn't matter to her.
"… fuck," Rei muttered, stealing Misato's favorite "better off not knowing" epiphany summation.
"Excuse me?" Shinji choked out.
"I said 'truck.'" Said vehicle sped by at the best possible moment.
"… oh."
Rei sighed. And she'd been doing so well not thinking about him these past few days. Taking care to purposefully not ponder what things would be like if she never saw him again. Even throughout all her friends' talk of the man she could tune it out as she usually did, since it was all ridiculous fallacy. And Misato had been thankfully silent on the whole situation, leaving her home life in the blissful nothingness she was used to.
She had almost been able to forget how tolerable his company was, how genuinely interested he seemed to be with her, how his killing her solitude was not always annoying, and how pleasant their walks could be. Which made her wonder:
Why is he still following me?
"You are going to Misato's apartment?" Rei asked, just now realizing his intent.
"Well, yeah." He knew it was the first time in nearly a week, and that Misato would not know, but it was for the noble cause of overcoming his passivity. "I thought it might be nice if she came home to a warm meal. Do you mind?"
And abruptly all of Rei's arguments about his not accompanying her further died. Far too many meals had passed her by without his culinary skills. She resisted the unfamiliar urge to drool.
"She would appreciate it," the pale girl admitted in a kind of mumble.
"Only her?" Shinji asked, taking a risk. A large one.
"Perhaps you should not change too much."
He laughed. Without any hint of restraint. The first time she had ever heard it. It was surprisingly deep for his voice, but a little scratchy, like it was brittle with disuse. Rei continued walking but her feet did not feel several steps.
"Maybe you're right," he said. He smiled to himself.
They reached the apartment without any further discussion. Rei wasn't quite sure if it was due to the fear of offending her further, or an odd corollary to his new attitude. She realized it didn't matter either way.
Without any command or even a veiled glance, Shinji began to collect the various scraps of paper, dirty dishes, magazines, beer cans, laundry and text books that lay scattered across the apartment floor. He sorted them, cleaned them, put them away, whatever was needed to fulfill his unforgiving sanitary conscience. He worked without words, without any real thought. Like it was expected of him. As if where others politely offered to assist their host in some menial preparatory task, he simply did it himself.
Rei silently watched his movements, albeit with a mental roll of her eyes.
I suppose he has not changed that much.
She was unreasonably pleased by the thought.
She watched him, and he cleaned, and the hour drifted away. He was elbow deep in the dishes from last night's "casserole" when the front door rang, rudely shattering the pleasant silence they were beginning to savor.
"Who on earth could that be?" Shinji wondered aloud. He looked to Rei, and finding only bored indifference, decided to answer the call himself.
In a moment of amazing precognitive clarity Rei knew who was at the door. She groaned audibly.
She was not surprised when she heard Shinji greet Hikari and Asuka.
Nor was she surprised by the pit of tired antipathy that settled in her stomach.
Despite her lack of what some might call "book smarts," Misato was adept at expressing her feelings and emotions in most situations. While she might not possess the most expansive vocabulary in the world she had a keen ability to sum up circumstances with earthy, easy to understand words and phrases that both put others at ease and aided her climb through the military. At the moment she effortlessly called upon the skill to encapsulate the various physiological and emotional triggers seeing the man walking towards her in the hall to the JSSDF lab wing produced.
Aw, fuck.
For his part, Kaji seemed oblivious to the captain's discomfort, and continued down the corridor, lost in whatever file he had his nose in. Though he probably would have shared her sentiment at the moment.
Seeing the scruffy man miss the only turnoff between their relative positions, Misato mentally steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation. She also subtly readied her limber muscles. Just in case.
As she adjusted her stride to an unmistakably combative posture he finally spotted her. Misato begrudgingly gave him a little credit. At least he wasn't slobbering all over her yet.
"Katsuragi," he said, with a nod.
"Kaji," she replied in turn, keeping any warmth from her voice. She stopped, determined to have it out then and there. Enough pussyfooting. Still, she couldn't quite force herself to say anything else. She wanted the blame to be solely on his head.
But as she was cataloguing several snappy yet vicious verbal barbs and recalling a few tactically hurtful past experiences to use against him, Kaji walked past her and continued down the hall. He walked right past her without batting a cocky eye or even taking the time to quirk a grin. He didn't even bother to look at her. Misato scoffed.
"Hey!" she yelled after him.
He sighed with a visible slumping of his shoulders.
"Yes?" he threw at her, still not facing her.
"So," Misato grumbled, "this is your new tactic? Playing hard to get? You might have got off the hook for the past couple days but I'm sick of pretending like nothing happened. I'm sick of it hanging over my head and I know your ego won't let you forget it. So—"
"Sorry to disappoint you. But contrary to your brilliant deductions my sense of identity does not revolve around you. My life doesn't start and stop with your attention."
She knew she shouldn't be mad. And she wasn't. She was furious.
"I guess it doesn't, as long as you know you won't be getting off. So tell me, how's that long-standing affair with your right hand going? Are there wedding bells in the near future? Should I be jealous?"
"What?" Kaji said, loosing patience. "What the hell do you want me to say to you? Do you want me to grovel, or beg, or say you shouldn't be with the kid, or that our little drunken meeting in that bar's shitty bathroom was the emotional epiphany I've been waiting for my entire life?" He broke off with a frown and forcibly relaxed. "Listen. I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You were drunk and I should have known better, but I was… careless." He shrugged, like the whole thing was the smallest of events. "Is there anything else?"
Misato couldn't help the fury his words gave her.
"God, Kaji. Fucking God I am sick of your shit. Don't pull that crap with me. I know you don't have a sentimental, apologetic side."
"You never bothered to look for it."
She bristled further. His tone wasn't accusing or confrontational. It was tired, and it was filled with acceptance. It made her feel sick. She hated how he could always bend her to whatever stupid game he felt like playing.
"I'd need some mining equipment and a few decades." She crossed her arms. She realized she did that a lot around him. "Listen, I can totally understand if you're bitter that I didn't rush back to your tacky bedroom but it's important you realize it was nothing but a weak, stupid, immature mistake that I will never repeat again for the rest of my life." Misato was proud at having delivered the speech she worked out nearly verbatim.
"I got that part. Anything else?" Kaji asked with an air of indifferent understanding.
"Excuse me?"
"If you've cleared your conscience now, can I go? I have actual work to do."
Why can't he act like himself!
"Work?" she asked, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice. "Is that what you call spying on Shinji?"
"I've been removed from that little gem," Kaji said with a sigh. Like he regretted it. "Don't tell him but I'm actually going to miss the little guy. Real work can be so disheartening. I much prefer the pleasant artifice of his life to the harsh realities of the real world… because the real world can be so harsh, can't it?"
"Only as harsh as we make it," Misato murmured, sobering a few degrees of fury.
"Or as harsh as we make it for others." He shrugged the rest of his dower mood off and grinned. "A fight is the last thing I need right now. So, for the sake of a tolerable working environment, can we just say we both made a complete joke of our lives and leave it at that? Or, to please you, let's say I messed it up for you. Whatever gets you off my case and back on the kid's. And since I'm such an expert, I can say with perfect confidence that you two will be back playing house in no time. Have fun while it lasts."
"I'm not like you," Misato bit out as he moved to leave. "Not anymore. I'm… we're not playing. It isn't a game and it never was. Not this time, not with him."
"It's always a game."
Kaji left, walking past her with a thin farewell, leaving her alone in the hall.
These damn halls always seem to be empty when my life takes a hit. At least no one can see me wallowing in self-pity.
It had been a frustrating week. Misato forgot how addicting sex could be for her. It was more than just getting off. She had a few battery operated friends for that end. No, it was more the fact that it was a way to experience an extremely deep level of intimacy she couldn't get to with mere words. To her, screaming a lover's name was as romantic as a long philosophical discussion on life and love. Every caress, every moan and gasp was as emotionally baring as a shared secret or private joke.
She was aware it was a cop out on some level. If a way to a man's heart was through his stomach, the path to hers was through her—
"Hi, captain."
"Oh, uh, hey, Maya," she said, nodding as the young tech hurried past her.
Where was she? Ah, yes. The grand detour to her soul. Granted it was scenic, and no one complained of the long drive, but maybe it was worth investing in some sort of overpass. She doubted she could ever match Shinji's whole "heart on the sleeve" take to romance, but if it helped her to show him exactly how much he meant to her, she was willing to give it a shot.
But the old, familiar, infinitely comfortable rut she had lived in for so long rebelled against any kind of change. And she couldn't exactly blame it on any left over inundation of teenage hormones anymore. Damn it.
Misato sighed.
Want a deep emotionally binding relationship? Drop your pants.
Love and sex were closely connected in her mind. In a romantic sense, she couldn't have one without the other. Platonic love was for children and geriatrics. She had the goods, so why not make the most of them? Sometimes she felt so full of emotion she needed to let it out, to vent a bit. And if it had the added benefit of being fun and fulfilling, who was she to argue?
But with Shinji temporarily closing his venting doors for her, she turned to her old standby for emergency personal crises.
Misato entered Ritsuko's lab without knocking, figuring the current car wreck that she called her life would take priority over any little pet project the doctor was working on at the moment.
She was half right. Instead of getting a little free therapy from an occasionally sympathetic ear, Misato was reminded how crappy her current situation really was. At any other time she would have found the sight in the lab funny, or at least unsettlingly ironic.
The blonde doctor sat at her usual station behind her desk, her crossed legs angled to the side. She was smoking. That was a bad sign. Beside her Dr. Katsuragi was idly looking over a file, flipping the pages with slow, languid motions. That was a worse sign. Before the pair of them Dr. Soryu was standing in an unmistakably hostile demeanor, her blue eyes flitting between the pair, obviously livid over something. That was an even worse sign.
"Don't give me that clearance crap again," the red-haired scientist was growling. "If it weren't for me you wouldn't even have everything you do. I'm not some obsolete piece of machinery you can toss aside when you think I've satisfied my purpose! I have a right to know, too!"
"We're not tossing you aside," Dr. Katsuragi began to say, but broke off seeing his daughter enter the lab. He glanced at Ritsuko.
"Captain," the blonde said, sending Soryu spinning on her heel. "Maybe you could settle this little argument. A third party might give a new perspective."
Soryu paused in mid-insult, actually seeming to consider the offer.
"Forget it," she finally said. She started out, but stopped long enough to throw a withering glare at Misato. "I don't want to break up your little club anymore. I always knew this damn place was a hotbed of nepotism, but I always believed you possessed at least a passing semblance of intelligence."
She left. She left, and the three who remained cast about for what needed to be said.
"Misato," her father greeted.
"To what do I owe the honor?" she asked, carefully neutral. "If you're here to wish me a happy early birthday you're late. By about a decade. Did you get lost on the way to the telephone?"
"I've been busy," he told her. He looked at her. "You cut your hair."
The casual tone, along with the utter absurdity of the comment felt like a punch. Misato tilted her head with a twitch in an attempt to regain her composure.
Yeah, daddy. Does it make me look pretty? Should I wear a bow? How about you buy me a new dress and then we go out for ice cream?
"What was that all about?" she asked instead, gesturing behind her to the door Soryu had thundered through.
"You know better than to ask me that."
Meaning, now that she was an adult, now that she had a position of power, she knew better than to try and get close to him through his work. Or through any other avenue.
"It's classified," Dr. Katsuragi went on. He had the common courtesy to almost sound contrite. "I probably shouldn't even be talking with you at all."
"I'm an operations director," Misato said immediately. She shot out a sickened breath. That's where my defenses first go when I'm talking with him? "Even if it's above my clearance it shouldn't be a reason to completely cut me off from everything." She shrugged. "Of course there's always that obscure little 'family' thing to take into account as well."
Her father's left eyebrow raised. He looked tired.
"I'm not asking for anything," Misato continued. "I just think it would have been nice for you to see me on your own when you're in town. I don't think I should have to scour the base for my own dad."
"I told you I was busy. This isn't a holiday trip," he said. "And you're not a child. You should be able to live your own life without any interference or intervention. Use your own two feet."
"That what you told mom, too?"
She knew that was low. She also knew the blank look of boredom on his face was the signal that this conversation was over.
"I don't know why you're in such a foul little mood," he said in a wonderfully condescending tone. "But I don't have the time for it. If you'll be so kind as to excuse yourself, I need to get back to work."
"That's pretty bold of you. This isn't even your lab and you're slinging orders," she said, casting a commanding look to Ritsuko.
"No, it isn't," the blonde said, surprisingly unapologetic. "I'm busy too, so if you want to talk it'll have to wait until later, okay, captain?" She turned in her chair and resumed typing at her console. Dr. Katsuragi took up a post beside her.
Misato stared at them, dumbfounded.
"Don't want to be a bother," she muttered, swallowing her temper.
She left on her heel. She did not look back. She did not wait until later.
Misato never questioned the moral or ethical quandaries that a daughter of a military scientist might be expected to stumble through. For her it was always a part of her father's life, and by extension, her own. In her eyes humans had for their entire existence been prone to killing one another, and the army merely accomplished it with a more efficient, hopefully less apocalyptic way. People were violent creatures. It was in everyone's nature. Best to accept and maybe make a career of it. It wasn't cynicism, at least not to her. It was the same practical realism that let her advance through the ranks of the JSSDF. It was the same knowledge and acceptance of human nature that let her pick and choose her mates without too many deep emotional connections. And it was, at the moment, the same detached professionalism that allowed her to break into a government lab to spy on a respected doctor with enough self-justification to avoid any guilt.
Make time for this, asshole.
It was late, but not nearly late enough for this kind of activity. The dramatic, theatrical portion of her mind accosted her for not waiting until the dead of night to commit a crime, for not slinking along the shadow-thick walls while avoiding weary security guards in the small hours of the night. Instead, it was early enough for stragglers still finishing last minute paperwork, and for unscrupulous employees to help themselves to supplies and anything not bolted down.
Or for a slightly reckless captain to spy on her father.
The lab Dr. Katsuragi was using for his office was unashamedly messy. A disaster site of papers, discs, reports, models and computers. It looked like an overworked science student threw up. It was nothing surprising.
Misato briefly remembered his study at home, and his general lack of traditional organization. Despite the immature appearance, she knew the man could pick any single object from the mess if asked. She wasn't sure if it was to intentionally throw people off, confuse them, of simply a way to irritate people he didn't like. It was working wonders on her at the moment.
Passing over stacks of loose sheets she sat at what had to be his main terminal and booted it up. She silently thanked whatever deity watches over thieves and children as she found he hadn't gotten around to blocking general access. Or he merely never thought no one would ever try and spy on him. Or he didn't care.
"Either or," Misato muttered. Then she bit her lip in frustration.
Every file was password protected and encrypted. Despite her father's slovenly research methods and professional carelessness with sensitive information, she forgot how paranoid the man could be within his own comfort zones. She could easily imagine him spending time every morning making sure nothing had been altered or looked at, before changing all the passwords twice. She supposed all the precarious stacks of paperwork were a way to ensure he'd notice any intrusions.
Misato looked away from the computer screen to investigate one such pile. She frowned as she discovered it was all things she could get on her own, through legal channels. Though why he'd need the majority of them were lost to her.
Her hands froze over a thick folder, stamped with several classified warnings on its front, promising punishment to any who looked within. Misato did not need to look inside. The file name was enough.
Ikari Gendo.
Misato's frown deepened. Why on earth would her father have reports on Ikari Gendo? Which inevitably brought her back to her original question. Why was her father here in the first place?
Using unofficial channels (Hyuuga's obvious crush) Misato had occasionally kept tabs on Dr. Katsuragi and his general whereabouts over the years. It wasn't anything as pathetic as trying to keep ties with the man; she learned only he chose who he associated with. And it wasn't anything as petty as sending a tastelessly cheerful holiday card once a year. It was merely to observe an innate, unspoken loyalty to the human being who had contributed half her genetic makeup. Part of it was undoubtedly a holdover from her childhood, the curiosity the shadowy man instilled in her. Thankfully, the old desire to prove herself in his eyes had died along with her mother. As much as it disgusted her, Misato was never particularly saddened by the cancer that took her life. It was a way to finally sever ties with her old self. No weeping mother to care for, no absent father to hate and want, no little Misato pretending to be nice and clean.
She smiled without humor at that, a sickly crinkling at the corner of her lips.
All I needed to grow up was a dead mother.
But the past was just that to her: the past. It was best to let it stay there. Of course it was easier to keep it there when she wasn't reminded of it every minute.
Initially, she had believed her father was in Japan to help further the pet project he worked as a consultant for when she was still a child. Some pipe dream about super charged non-nuclear weapons that wouldn't irradiate the environment. Granted, it wasn't her father's primary field of expertise, but public opinion was only so lenient with the military applications of his actual work. Gene manipulation, evolutionary theories and artificial tissue growth had never shocked her the way it did the general populace. She grew up listening to the bizarre world of science her father belonged to. Perpetual energy and induced evolution were her bedtime stories, and while even some two and a half decades later Misato still couldn't fully grasp those ideas, they still filled her with an excited childlike wonder. Like hearing a favorite fairy tale, albeit one that confused and wearied you.
It was what originally made her seek a friendship, and what continued to maintain her association with, Akagi Ritsuko. It was what made her pursue a life in what was as close as she could realistically hope to be to the world of her father. But she had long ago learned that the underlying reason was unimportant. The end result was what truly mattered.
She heard someone shuffle past outside and checked her watch, deciding she'd stayed long enough. She was assured she would not find what she was looking for. Still, she tarried over his desk a moment longer, shuffling the few loose stacks of files and discs, hoping something would catch her eye.
Nothing did. Misato snorted a sigh and stood up. Her eyes strayed over the few clearly visible labels and found nothing to determine the purpose of her father's visit. They all seemed too random, too obscure.
Temperature records of the Antarctic? Financial documents on banks from Europe and Asia for high tech medical supplies? Transport manifestos over the last year from every major Japanese import/export company? Doctored receipts for mining machinery?
Though it was all nonsense to her she copied down a few names and numbers, determined to research them later when she had some actual time. And when she wasn't in any immediate danger of being arrested.
The last file name she took down did not send any warnings to her either. Nothing to give her pause or merit genuine worry. It was tucked away in a long list of other obscure titles and headings. It seemed completely unassuming and innocuous, if a touch strange.
Misato added it to the list and left for home. There would be no more attempts at civility between her and her father. At least, none initiated by her. Meaning there would be no more. Ritsuko wasn't winning any points either. Instead of pondering what two of the greatest minds in Japan were working on, Misato focused solely on the secret pact the two seemed to have made. Granted, the two of them keeping secrets from her was nothing new, but the tag-team effort was new and unwelcome. And troubling. Whatever was going on, it was big. That much the captain could discern. If this had her father working with another human being on civil terms, Ritsuko being more catty than usual, Kaji being almost polite, Maya acting more frazzled than normal and Soryu getting her tacky skirts in a twist than something was afoot. Well, Soryu getting bent out of shape was anything but alarming, it actually had a strange calming effect, but the rest of the usual suspects were acting odd.
Maybe when old man Fuyutsuki gets back in town he'd favor me with a meeting, and a 'none of your business.' At least then I could blame this on a clear rank issue. What's the good of working my way up the ladder if I can't reach anything with it?
"Fuck it," Misato said. She'd been getting a lot of use out of that word lately. She got more on the drive home. "Can this day pour any more salt in my wounds?"
Upon further consideration, she decided that yes, it could.
The last thing Misato wanted when she finally reached her apartment was any sort of human interaction. Dealing with the twin grown babies that were her father and Kaji took a lot out of her. The only reason she didn't stop by a bar for a few shots to help cap off her terrific week was the pissy exhaustion violently groping her entire body. At least Rei would be considerate enough to leave her alone. Considerate, or oblivious. Either or. Both worked. As long as nothing impeded her journey to the fridge for a beer, then to her room where she hoped to get started on a raging hangover.
So as she opened her front door and found several extra pairs of shoes waiting for her, she summed up the situation with admirable skill.
"Aw, fuck."
She said it loud enough to hopefully let whoever was intruding on her sanctuary know they were in fact intruding. And that there was going to be hell to pay. Hell, meaning the business end of her boot. Despite the jovial sounding conversation taking place in her apartment, Misato tried hard to hold onto the frustration and anger she had been stewing in all week. She wondered if this was how Shinji felt regarding large gatherings.
Sadly it appeared no one heard her sworn declaration of annoyance, since the impromptu party continued unabated, even as she entered the kitchen. Rei was seated at the table, vainly struggling to study a text before her, as both Asuka and Hikari were chatting Shinji up. Their attention was unabashedly on the young man, who was at the stove making something or other, and wearing that stupid novelty apron she bought him boldly declaring "chefs serve it up hot." Was he trying to give Asuka a nosebleed?
"Uh, hi?" Misato said, almost completely covering up the distaste she was feeling.
"Misato-san," Shinji said without missing a beat.
Her boyfriend left the relative safety of meal preparation and walked up to her. Without so much as blush he leaned in and kissed her lightly, resting one lazy hand on her hip. Misato was shocked into unresponsiveness. He finally pulled back with an easy smile.
"Welcome home."
From her angle, Misato could clearly see the girls, watching the couple with avid to jaded curiosity. Asuka was attempting to murder her using her eyes. Hikari predictably blushed. Rei gave herself a slight nod, but looked indescribably weary.
"Good to be home," Misato said, surprised at how much she meant it.
"Why don't you change?" Shinji said as he returned to the stove. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
"Uh… right. I'll, uh, I'll go do that." Could this day get any weirder?
Misato stumbled backwards to her room. Such an open public display of affection from her boyfriend was throwing her off. The sense of control she had struggled to keep all day was just hurled out the window.
Shinji, okay with acting like a normal couple in front of others? Rei, not making some caustic remark at her expense? Herself, not throwing Asuka and Hikari out the door? But most importantly, Shinji, okay with acting like a normal couple in front of others?
She knew forgiveness was probably still a distant promise, but it was just that: a promise. She couldn't imagine the two of them not having further difficulties, but if Shinji could get over his gloomy outlook, at least for a night, then there was definitely hope. Still, it felt a touch bizarre being on the receiving end of an embarrassed blush with him.
But this was what she wanted. Right?
Misato shut her door behind her, chuckling a bit as she heard Asuka causing some kind of commotion in the kitchen. She suddenly hoped she had never been that desperate with a guy.
Girl needs to get laid.
She shed her uniform, letting it crumple into a heap at her feet. She selected an old t-shirt with a nobly faded Baron the cat and a comfortable pair of shorts. She paused, then threw them back, instead picking out the pair she kept for any occasion she wanted to make Shinji blush. She decided tonight was fast becoming one of those. And while she knew he wouldn't let himself stay over tonight, Misato resolved to make him regret it.
Hell, I need to get laid too.
As her hand fell on the door again, she stopped and went back to her uniform. She fished out the pad of paper she had written her father's secrets on and carefully hid it on her desk behind her gun's holster, a place she knew neither Shinji nor Rei would ever go near. Even though she knew Shinji wouldn't be staying tonight.
Her eyes drifted to the last file name she copied down. The name just struck her odd the more she thought about it. It almost sounded like a progressive rock band, or one of those dumb games Shinji worked on.
Misato sighed and pushed it from her mind. Dinner was waiting, as were two people she truly cared for, and two others she could take or leave. Work, her father and everything they represented could wait for another day. And so could the strange things they were involved in.
When she turned out her bedroom light and opened the door to join the others, the last heading on her list waited patiently for her. Just as it had for so long. What was a little more time, after all?
For the Human Enhancement Project, time was the smallest of obstacles.
End of Chapter 13
Author notes: ready for a real shocker? I am not going to apologize for anything in this chapter. Not even the long wait. I hate the holidays and let me tell you right now passing a kidney stone hurts like... well, like passing a kidney stone.
"Write what feels right." Probably the best literary advice I've ever received. Thanks, GuppyLips.
Contrary to popular belief, I feel love means always having to say you're sorry. That opening was tough to write. It's the main reason this took so long. And yeah, I know she's still telling him what to do and it's emotionally manipulative… but it's the good kind of manipulation. They're both saying goodbye to the past. Besides, I think Shinji would place more weight on an emotional betrayal as opposed to a purely physical one. I mean, I obviously couldn't have them break up. I just felt it was time for him to grow up a bit. Maybe Misato should cheat on him until he becomes a womanizer or something.
And Rei. Many of you seem to be confused by her portrayal. I thought it was clear by now: I have no fucking idea what I'm doing with her. The more I churn this story out, the more I feel Misato and Rei are parts of a whole in regards to Shinji: Misato the physical, Rei the spiritual. Whatever. This is almost done.
The holidays make me bitchy, so time for a rant. I try not to let too much ruffle me. But one thing that irks me is plagiarism. I recently stumbled onto an Eva fic where someone lifted, nearly verbatim, the entire cello scene from chapter eleven of True Love Waits. Even my infamous "auditory orgasm," which admittedly, I was pretty proud of. At first I was all pissed but now… (shrugs) I kind of think it's funny. Here I am, writing little stories about foreign cartoon characters from ten years ago and someone took the time to copy something I wrote, possibly while I was buzzed. Life is funny like that. Wait, no. I mean pathetic.
This chapter was written in large part while listening to Sigur Ros' Takk…. Love it.
Why won't this ever stop? OMAKE.
Asuka: This author is a fucktard.
Hikari: Asuka! Language!
Asuka: Shut it. I just found his other "work" if you can even call it that. What a fucking fucktard. That isn't me at all.
Hikari: Other work? I don't see anything…
Asuka: It's on another site. He constantly harps about it, like it sucks, but he secretly hopes that makes people want to read it, like he's fishing for sympathy. Pathetic.
Hikari: (reads Witness) Oh my. That is… upsetting. Perhaps the author should seek therapy. Poor Ikari-san…
Asuka: Poor him? Poor me! He made me into a monster! Like I'd ever do that to Ikari.
Hikari: Which part? Sympathize with him, hug him, blame him for your own confused adolescence, or pummel him senseless for… you know. That.
Asuka: I'm surrounded by fucktards.
Rei: At least you get a speaking role in it.
Shinji: (just now entering) In what, Ayanami?
Girls: Nothing! DON'T READ IT!