+++++ Kirijo Manor. (Saturday, August 28th, +7, Last Quarter 2/4)
There was a type of joy to be found in the strenuous engagement of muscles. To know that the pain you were enduring was in service of some greater goal, whether it was simply 'future-proofing' or to prove you deserved a future. Shinji knew that he could have thrown both Rise and Sumire dozens of meters in the air, with how strong he felt holding them as he assisted them in displaying their own talents.
The women took turns dancing, each spending the time he was with the other choosing the next song they'd use to encourage him to continue having fun 'letting loose'. Neither of them understood that Shinji was not, in fact, relaxing in the slightest. They should not be blamed for that lack of awareness though, considering the young man in question was having a phenomenal time bringing the joy he could feel exuding from their exertions. He was enjoying what he was doing, and that enjoyment was being provided by the chance to feel their trust in him. The reason that he wasn't relaxing, as noted, was that every ounce of concentration was necessary to prevent himself from harming either of them. It was a small sacrifice on his part, in his eyes.
Catching a descending Sumire, the gymnast twirling in mid-air with immaculate poise from a controlled throw, he took two steps back to bleed off her momentum as he caught sight of his door opening without the typical knock that had characterized his time in the Manor. "Yuko?"
His primary Executive Assistant swept into the room, a picture of calm and grace heralding a storm, to pause the music that was giving life to their dancing. "My deepest apologies, ladies. While I would love nothing more than to have you continue to bring joy to Shinji's life, I am afraid that we have an unanticipated engagement arriving within the hour. Please, if you would find and offer your finest outfits to the maids waiting in the hallway, they'll see them cleaned and pressed within the quarter-hour." Retrieving one of Shinji's 'business formal' outfits from the hardcase it hung within, she handed it to Chiaki to prepare. "The Prime Minister will be here, despite your mother's best efforts to prevent it. There are some matters which simply cannot be avoided with soft power alone."
That his mother had attempted to stop it at all was something of a surprise, though it was enough to still his tongue from a reflexive condemnation of the woman. "What does she want?"
"To meet you," Yuko stated concisely. "Please, ladies, we all must appear at our best to avoid…complications. I urge you, for Shinji's sake, make haste."
Sumire had remained in Shinji's arms, ready to act as a physical bulwark if necessary to defend the young man she'd become closer to in such a short time. "…He's not going anywhere he doesn't want to, ma'am."
"She's not a ma'am," Shinji sighed in resignation. "She's Yuko. It will be ok, Sumire. I doubt the Prime Minister is going to be very interested after meeting me, we all know I'm about as engaging as drying paint. You two go ahead and get ready, I should shower…again."
Rise hurried over to him first, rubbing his back and drawing his gaze down to her. "We had a lot of fun. You're nowhere near as boring as you pretend to be, and I'm with Sumire-chan: you're not going anywhere you don't want to go." The subtle smile she earned warmed her through. "Ok, let's go get ready. We'll see you downstairs, Shinji."
"Uhm," he hesitated in releasing Sumire, "c-could…I have a hug?" He was swiftly subsumed by two young women hugging him with gusto. The warmth and life he felt in their embrace settled his nerves at seeing someone 'important' on the horizon. "Thank you."
Sumire patted his cheek as she and Rise backed out of the hug with twin grins. "Any time you need a hug, you feel free to ask for one." Both waved and hurried out of the room, glowing with contentment at having accomplished what they had.
With the door closed behind them, Yuko's demeanor shifted to the 'companion' that she was in his eyes. "I truly am sorry. One of the guards outside the manor noted that you were dancing, as was visible through the windows. She shared a video from her phone, preventing it from being forwarded anywhere else as she did so. It heartened us all to see you spending time doing something enjoyable, and I wish that we had been able to put off this meeting so that you could continue to enjoy their presence."
He shrugged his shoulders, accepting that his was not a fate destined for prolonged bouts of joy. "Is my mother coming?"
"She is." Shifting her body to the side, she gestured to the bathroom. "Would you like my assistance?"
His foot bounced slightly off the ground to tap the tip of his toes against the ground to the echo of the music in his mind, a curl of thoughts arising from recent introspection. "Can I ask you an honest question?" He began to move towards the bathroom, stripping off his shirt as he moved.
Yuko was mildly surprised, and more than a touch concerned, at how his signals were more of a predator in motion than the typical prey attempting to not be seen. "I would hope that I have not given you any reason to doubt me?"
Pausing in the doorway to the bathroom, he turned his head back just enough to indicate that he was speaking to her, with his eyes only travelling to the door frame before halting, "Am I making a mistake…taking what joy I can from sharing myself with…."
"Considering the joy you seek to give, I would say no." Tugging on the string cinching her dress, she moved to follow him into the bathroom herself. "Considering the joy I receive from you…I might not be the best person to ask that question of, though."
He picked her up into a rough embrace as she reached his side. He'd have to hurry, which wasn't what he wanted…but at least he'd be able to put his desire somewhere for the moment. He had to keep a clear head around his mother, and not risk being distracted around someone who'd managed to create the tension he felt growing in the house.
+++++ Kirijo Manor. (Saturday, August 28th, +7, Last Quarter 2/4)
Wearing the clothes that he was, Shinji felt like a complete and utter fraud. Each item was of a cut and style that professed to anyone looking at him that he was important. Not 'important', like so many middle managers that believed that because they were given the authority to handle the menial tasks that actual leaders were too busy to manage themselves that they had any real value to an organization. Not 'important', like a doctor or physician that used ego-buffered talent to show their path towards a brighter future for people. Important. Unique, singular, or without peer. It was only a lifetime of beatings that kept him from fidgeting or twitching, his face stoic and his breathing steady.
Broken into two smaller groups of four, his fellow students were quietly speaking to each other about what they were all wearing. The sound washed around him, a gentle tide flowing past him, and while he heard the words he heard nothing of the meanings behind the statements. Further towards the door itself, Miyuki was in discussions with Shiori Miyashiro, Tae Takemi, and Mikoto and Akane. That particular group was, from time to time, glancing over at him as he stood at the locus of all ley lines in the enormous entryway.
"Does the sir require anything?" Chiaki's question was delivered in a hushed tone that carried no further than his ears. The young maid had stood behind and to the side of his shoulders, patiently waiting for him to either move to engage someone in conversation or topple over as the blood flow from his legs ceased circulating sufficiently back to his heart.
His reply, equally quiet, was delivered in a lifeless monotone. "An excuse to go back to my bedroom and crawl into the closet."
"If only such were within my power to grant." She was heartened that he at least hadn't lost focus on 'when' he was. "Is there anything I might offer, instead?"
"…Do you regret the shower we took the other day?"
"I believe that moment will be one of the highlights of my life until I am no longer among the living. It is a rare thing, I should think, for a maid such as myself to be treated as a queen."
A slight break in his stoicism caused his head to tilt forward, his eyes looking down to the floor in a brief reverie. "I hope it doesn't upset you if I say that I'd rather that was not a 'one time' event."
"I hope it doesn't upset you if I say that I'm always available for a reprise," her voice gained a hint of teasing warmth.
The doors opening brought his attention back to the here and now, away from pleasant memories and hopeful futures. Moving quietly into the room, several suit-wearing security guards that he didn't recognize took up positions where they'd be able to keep an eye on everyone. Each guard he didn't recognize was partnered with one he did, all looking incredibly uncomfortable to be operating in tandem with a 'stranger'. The first woman he saw was his mother, walking beside a woman that he didn't recognize but could easily see was the Prime Minister by the way his mother was attending to her. Behind them was Naoko Akagi and another woman he didn't recognize.
Pleasantries were exchanged between the Lady of the Manor and the guests arriving, not that Shinji paid much attention to the words being stated. He spied Naoko moving around the periphery of the room in his general direction, ignoring the introductions of his classmates and their replies to those socially appropriate questions regarding their background and aspirations. Once she was standing by his side facing the Prime Minister, and Chiaki had left to give them privacy to speak on whatever matters compelled Naoko to break the cordon, he greeted her quietly, "Good evening, Naoko-sensei. Is there any chance I could beg you to hide me?"
Amusement oozed from the elder Akagi's reply, "You couldn't afford my services, I'm afraid."
"Are you sure? I'm willing to do anything you want," he assured her with a mix of total sincerity and knowing resignation.
"Careful what you offer. We loathsome witches can make a promise out of any idle comment." Her response was intended as an amusing bit of social wordplay, nothing more meaningful than to let him know that she understood his predicament and empathized that he wanted nothing to do with where he was.
Seriousness infected his tone, mixed with genuine concern that she didn't believe that he would, in fact, help her with whatever it was that she might need. This was a woman who'd tried to take him in as a child. Who'd offered to help raise him so that he could still live near his mother. It was also a woman who was simply a more refined Ritsuko Akagi in appearance, which was certainly not hard to look at in any light. "You are very far from loathsome." He looked to her without turning his body. "Ritsuko's father was certainly a very lucky man to have a woman of wit, intellect, and charm at his side." Seeing her seize up slightly, he looked back to the fore expecting that the group was now making their way to them. When there was still time to say something, he finished with, "I know I'd feel blessed to have you by mine."
Naoko was unable to respond in time, even if she had managed to come up with anything to say to such a brutally honest statement. He wasn't offering, it simply wasn't in him to do such things that she'd seen. He also wasn't 'humoring her', for whatever that might have meant. He genuinely believed her to be a person that he would be happy to have at his side, and she'd have to take advantage of that at a more appropriate time. "Madam Prime Minister," she began once the women were at an appropriate distance, "may I introduce to you the charmingly retiring Shinji Ikari. Shinji," so unbalanced was she by his statement that she forgot to put any social modifier on the name, "this is our Prime Minister, Sadako Saeki."
"It is a true pleasure to meet you, Shinji-kun," the Prime Minister stated with a practiced warmth. "I'm sorry to drop in unannounced, but I was able to free up some time in my schedule and wanted to make certain that you were being…appropriately cared for."
His initial assessment of the woman had been flawed, he thought as he bowed in greeting. At first glance, she seemed far too honest to be a politician. From what news he'd been allowed to consume over his life politicians were lying, self-serving, whores that were purchased by those with a great deal of money and then instructed to keep everyone else away from that money. There was something in Sadako's gaze, up close, that took away from the veneer of authenticity. She was weighing him, the way one would a weapon…or a tool. "It is nice to meet you, ma'am. I don't doubt that Kirijo-san would have let you know if your arrival was a burden, she has been very kind in allowing me to live with her for the time being."
"Ah, but it is our home, Shinji," Miyuki stated with a fond reserve. She had noticed his demeanor's shift, and was now on guard. "While my name may be on the title, I have no reservations about trusting in his residency here. He's both a joy and a boon, to be sure."
"I am very glad to hear that," Yui stated softly. "I only wish he and I had more free time to spend together."
The desire to speak, to lash out, was overwhelming. Instead of directing venom towards his mother, which would have been a pointless act in any instance, he looked to the final woman in the small group that had arrived at what was 'his' home. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Giving a bow to the matronly, if small, woman he hoped to derail the conversation enough that he wouldn't feel compelled to snap.
"…I see." The woman's response was given with a muted pain, "Life has not been kind to you, dear child, has it?"
Shinji had seen many different women look at him in many different ways over the past week. He could only tie one other woman to the kind of look he was now receiving from this tiny, fragile, being before him: Andreja. "I…am very fortunate to be living here, now." Lying was impossible, but that didn't mean he couldn't phrase the truth in a different manner. "Between Kirijo-san and Mitsuru-senpai, I have…hope, I guess, that there is a better future ahead."
"Reverend Mother," the Prime Minister reasserted her authority, "it has been a very long day for us both. Why don't you accept Kirijo-san's offer of some tea, while I ask Shinji-kun what I need to? I promise, I won't be long." Continuing the direct tactics of moving people out of her way, she spoke to who he assumed was her chief of security, "I don't believe he'll attempt to harm me, please make sure we remain uninterrupted." Gesturing towards the room holding Miyuki's piano, she gave him a confident smile. "If you wouldn't mind?"
Some part of the back of his mind was screaming that not pushing back was going to lead to very familiar problems. The presence of his mother, and his hatred of everything in his life involving what she'd chosen for him, prevented him from acting on that impulse. Moving to the door, he held it open for the Prime Minister the way he'd been trained to hold doors for Meroko. Once she was inside the room, nobody else having said a word, he stepped in himself and closed it behind them both.
The woman waiting to speak was not the same seemingly honest woman that had been outside the room. Instead of honeyed promises and treacle lies, there was a steel fist beneath the velvet exterior. "I need you to listen very, very carefully. I only have this one chance to prove to you that I am not your enemy, and I do not want it wasted by misunderstandings. I need you to look past the gilded cage you're living in. I understand that the nation of your birth failed you, and failed you miserably. Now, when there is literally no other place for us to look for help, we are turning to the same young man whose plight we were blinded to by…bureaucratic laziness!"
He blinked, taken aback at the direct approach she was taking. "I-I-"
"No, no." She waved him off. "I know you won't understand. Not all at once, and not right away. Please, accept this envelope." Pulling a small, folded, piece of paper out of her blouse, she urged him to take it from her. "Inside you will find a small MAGI-capable card with more details and my contact information. Any time, day or night, if you call that number I will answer."
He had no choice but to take what she was offering, by virtue of being who he was. "O-ok…but…."
"You are the last man on Earth. The key to far too many plans." Taking his face between her hands, she smiled sadly. "Please, think beyond your own comforts. I know how tempting it is to live in luxurious innocence, but I need you to also think of the millions of women throughout the country who are relying on you. Not all of them are as charming as your classmates, but each of them will soon look to you and you alone for a path forward. I need you, Shinji. I pray you will not fail me."
Pocketing the envelope, he gently gripped her elbows to pull her hands down from his face. "Please…stop. I'm not sure what you think I'm capable of, but I'm not someone who can fix my own life…let alone millions of others."
"You can, and you must," she countered with a touch of desperation. "We are all that's left. What your aunt did to you was abominable. That you want nothing to do with the touch of any other woman is perfectly understandable, but functionally a death sentence for us all. If we do not start a controlled program to bring forth future generations, we will all die just as surely as if you had refused to step inside that mechanical monstrosity to fight the alien. Each hour you spend that is not an attempt to replenish the population is one less hour we have to spend training that generation to survive."
His head tilted to the side slightly, confusion growing in his mind. "You…want me to…."
"The fact that there is nothing that exists beyond roughly sixty kilometers from the central point of the sphere we now live within means that we are it." Switching her grip to mirror his own, she squeezed his elbows. "I mean every word I wrote to you on that card. Please, read what's been written, listen to what's been spoken, understand the pictures and video we've taken, and then call me. Give me a chance to help you see my perspective on all of this. You can't understand now, because you've been kept from the total truth of it all…please."
Even if he had been the type of man to ignore a desperate plea for aid, even if his life had not been a long series of programmatic events that were driven into him with ruthless tenacity by a madwoman, it was unlikely that Shinji would have answered in any other manner than the one he offered at that moment, "I-I'll…do what I can."
"Thank you." Her relief was a tangible force smashing against his reserves. "I promise, any time you call, ok?"
+++++ Kirijo Manor. (Saturday, August 28th, +7, Last Quarter 2/4)
Later, once their 'guests' had left, Shinji sat alone in his room looking at the contents of the envelope he'd been handed. A small solid-state drive, a business card with a number written on the back and highlighted in blue, and a note with a plea to keep an open mind. "Who do I trust?" The question was spoken guardedly, even with the understanding that there was no real chance of an actual answer from anyone. "…Can I trust anyone?" His classmates were all likely to be as ignorant as he was of what he'd been told. His hostess was probably keeping him ignorant, whether benevolently or malevolently was immaterial. His mother…that bridge was filled with dangers of their own making. She'd been honest, so far, but there was little chance that he would reach out to her for advice on anything.
"Oh, well that is quite an interesting color!" Shizuko materialized on his desk, no taller than a handful of centimeters, hurrying over to the SSD and analyzing it as an art piece instead of a computer component. "What is this? Some sort of jewelry?"
The answer he hadn't expected had appeared before him. The odd angel was simply too innocent to engage in guile, and she hadn't once triggered a surge of doubt in his mind about that truth. "It's…like a book, intended to be plugged into my laptop so that it can be read to me by the MAGI."
"How wonderful!" Hefting the device, she marched towards the laptop with it in tow. "Let us put it to work then, and see what stories it wishes to share."
He couldn't think of a reason to stop her. Reaching down, he tapped where her prize was intended to be inserted. "It goes here."
"Then there," she grunted with effort as she aligned the drive with her target, "it shall go." Sliding it home, she shoved several times to make sure it would not go further before floating up and laying atop Shinji's head to read with him whatever they'd been given.
"Let's see…." Clicking to open the folders within the drive, he saw that the files had been labelled in a recommended reading order. Seeing no reason to be contrarian, he clicked on the first file to see what it presented. After a small forward explaining the charts below, he scrolled down to see that the number of 'capable professionals' that could provide various services had been gutted by the loss of the entire male population. Those sectors that broadly, for whatever reasons, women had not sought an education within were suffering immensely from 'brain drain'. The next showed that the loss of imports, having vanished with the rest of the world, were now forcing a humongous shift in production focus across the entire nation. Land was now being reclaimed for use in agriculture, raw materials were being redirected to produce life-sustaining equipment, housewives were being pushed into back-breaking manual labor that they were neither suited nor trained for. The final chart, far more ominous than those above it, showed the number of deaths each day for the past six days. The remaining population of Japan, and as far as anyone knew the remaining population of reality itself, was plummeting. Suicides, homicides, industrial accidents, old age, untreatable diseases, treatable diseases that simply no longer had practitioners capable of treating them, traffic accidents, natural disasters, the list went on and on.
Shizuko, who had been idly playing with Shinji's hair as she read along, chimed in, "More than a sixth of their remaining population, dead within a week. That will likely only worsen once the attacks begin."
Shinji blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "She wants me to help…make children." He shook his head subtly. "I don't know how that's going to help."
"You would make a wonderful patriarch," she crowed happily. "Your natural instincts to protect others, as well as your restraint from harming those who are no threat, shows that you would be a fine example for them to aspire towards."
"…We'll agree to disagree," he cut off the topic for the moment. Clicking on the next file, assuming that the first's message had been well communicated, he read through a thesis paper regarding population bottlenecks and potential solutions regarding gene-editing. Much of the science was beyond his grasp, with the education he'd been given, but there were helpful annotations provided by a 'F.K.' that explained it at a practical level. "They want to reduce the chances of genetic abnormalities while the child is growing inside the mother, which…I guess that's a good thing?"
When Shinji brought up the next file, which was a video of a presentation showing the required occupational programs and the growing need for more security forces. The speaker looked for all the world as if they hadn't slept since the 'event', presenting the information they had to hand with resigned calm. At one specific point, however, they became slightly more animated. "If we cannot secure the cooperation of Ikari-san, or if open conflict between NERV and the elected government becomes unavoidable, everything I'm presenting becomes pointless. At the very least, we will require either myself, or someone else with the requisite knowledge on how to implement the final fallback plan, and no less than five other women of any level of education as well as Ikari-san. If he dies…we are not having any success in achieving parthenogenesis. Devoid of regulations prohibiting human trials, the problem has now become one of qualified personnel to contribute to the research in any meaningful way. Myself, the Doctors Akagi, Doctor Zeppelin, Doctor Ikari, perhaps one or two others working outside of the HRC field with practice in functional bioengineering…. I have to urge you in the strongest possible terms, Madam Prime Minister, Shinji Ikari's willing cooperation is vital for us to have any sliver of hope. It isn't a matter of ethics, it's simple pragmatism: the use of force risks his death, and his death is our death. We must treat him as the precious resource he is, and offer him whatever will motivate him to agree to our requests."
The video came to an end, and Shinji's head slumped into his hands with his elbows propping everything up on his desk. "Why me?"
"I would assume that it is because you are the only being capable of providing the appropriate genetic material, even tainted as it is." Shizuko slid off his head, righting herself before landing atop the desk and then growing in size to slip onto his lap to hold him close. "It is good that you have a kind heart, for at least they still have a chance to save their species."
Sitting on his lap as she was, Shinji noted that she was wearing a soft cotton shift and nothing more. It was better, in his mind, than the straps and chains she'd been forced to endure. With his head resting on her shoulder, and his arms loose around her waist, he slowly breathed in her scent. "How do I handle this? How do I ask…any of them? Is Miyuki-san keeping me in a 'gilded cage'? Is my mother willing to kill people to stop this from happening? Could they really let me just kill humanity?"
"I do not know," she responded, smoothing her hand atop his head. "I am here because I believe that you can save a great many lives, and because I can feel in you the desire to be a better person. What you ask is beyond my understanding, and I can only offer my love to you as a balm."
He shuddered, the pure honesty of her every action implying that she truly did love him. "…Thank you, Shizuko." He didn't understand it, but the joy he felt at its presence was undeniable. "It's nice to know that you believe in me." Squeezing his arms, he let go of her and reached for the mouse. "Let's finish reading things, then we'll go to bed."
Instead of reducing in size once more, Shizuko shifted herself to the side so that she could sit on his lap comfortably and lay against him as he endured more 'bad news'. She truly wished to bring him joy, but for now she would accept giving him comfort. "That sounds pleasant. Perhaps you could hold me, as you held the others."
That thought brought a hint of a smile to his face. Someone was offering to keep him from dreaming, and that was a cause for joy. His attention turned to the next video playing, which at the moment was only showing the back and short-cropped hair of a woman walking down a darkened staircase. Whoever was filming the scene was managing to keep the camera steady enough that the view wasn't sickening, but the angle made it evident that the device itself was likely 'hidden'.
"Ok, folks, I want you all to understand one thing very clear before I let any of you in this room." The speaker, a woman he thought he recognized but couldn't quite place, had stopped by a doorway and stood with her arms crossed. "The prisoner is not to be approached. Period, end of line. There are two stripes on the floor, the red stripe that she has been instructed not to approach, and the green stripe that we will be standing behind. If I see any of you even look like you're approaching the green stripe, I will shoot you. No debate, no warning, no second chances. I will shoot you, and I will sleep just fine later tonight. Do we understand one another?"
The woman filming spoke up, a florid soprano voice that carried the weight of conscience, "Is she truly that dangerous, miss?"
"Honestly? No. In a fight, she'd get absolutely trounced by the weakest member of my team. The restrictions are in place for her safety, not yours. Until we have the answers we need, the restrictions remain. You will want to hurt her. Everyone I've ever brought here has." She looked amongst the others. "Any other questions? No? Good. Get in, behave, we all go home without problems."
Shinji began to draw closer to where he'd seen the woman giving instructions before. His mind drifted away from the video for a few seconds as he tried to force where he knew her from to the fore.
A voice, one far too familiar to him to not rip his attention back to the video, spoke as the video lightened with the change from the hallway to the room holding the 'prisoner', "Finally. I've been waiting for an hour."
His arms began to shiver, dark remembrances crawling along his flesh.
"Shut up," the woman in charge snapped. "If I want you to stand in this room all night, you will stand in this room all night. Now, answer their questions."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Meroko Ikari chided, her orange jumpsuit giving her skin a sallow hue. "That's no way to treat a guest."
Pixie appeared, pausing the video and blockading the screen. "Yeah, so, I'm thinking maybe we don't need to preview that particular film." Sitting on the edge of the desk, her feet on Shinji's knees, she motioned to soothe what she believed to be fear. "Turns out they'd found her already. She's-"
Fear was not an emotion Shinji was feeling at the moment. "That's below the manor. That woman, the guard, she's responsible for the east wing, near the pool." Standing, he set Shizuko gently on the ground and glared towards that area of the manor. "There's a door on the wall, with a canvas overhang, next to that pool. I remember seeing it when I fell in with Mitsuru." He turned to the door, plans for how to deal with obstructions plotting themselves out.
"Whoa, hey," Pixie hurried around to try and slow him down, "let's not go off half-cocked. It's possible that there's a-"
He gripped her around the waist, setting her out of his way. Two more steps put him out into the hallway, and on the hunt.
+++++ Author's Note:
TheHiddenLettuce: RE: Alternate Endings.
I like including little callbacks to the source material where I can. I'm taking a great deal of liberties with NGE, so I'm obligated to do more to create tiny bridges.