Neon Genesis Evangelion
A Thousand Years of Secrecy
Disclaimer: I own neither Evangelion nor Altered Carbon (or any other book in the Takeshi Kovachs series). If either Gainax or Mr. Morgan have an issue with any of the content presented, please contact me by e-mail to remove it.
Important A/N: Since we are entering the US, from now on two languages may be spoken: Japanese and English.
Bi-lingual speech is not simple, and I'm taking the Shogun route for this since I couldn't think of a good quote system. My translations are very approximate even living in Tokyo with two years of Japanese under my belt. I will try to reserve my use of Japanese in an English setting for only when I can properly write it in Japanese. Otherwise, you can assume a character will use their native tongue in conversations unless required to do otherwise. I didn't mention this for the last chapters since we can assume the characters are only speaking Japanese to one another. This may be of particular note from here on out because not all characters are bi-lingual in Japanese and English (or tri-lingual in Asuka's case). Asuka's German will still be un-translated German because it feels more in character that way.
Quick A/N: Highschoolers swear a lot. There's nothing I can do about it. Also, this chapter takes a positive IQ to read, just like the first one. There's nothing I can do about that either.
Three – Instinct / Idiosyncrasies
"A murderer, a martyr, a muse, and a prophet can all practice the same craft. But without these, nothing left is human."
San Francisco was dirty, ugly, and out-dated to Shinji's aesthetic. Given that he had arrived from what was once the newest city of the cleanest country of the world his opinion was perhaps not the typical norm. But he could not shake the perpetual feeling of disgust being in this place.
He hated walking to school, seeing the homeless children playing in the park; at night they would disappear back into their hammock communities strung under the towering expressways of California. This was the sad reality of the largest economic power on Earth. He saw it everywhere: the division of the well-to-do and the struggling. You could close your eyes and still smell the piss from another forgotten vagrant, the blood from another nightly murder.
Not that the news hadn't shown him any worse. America was generally portrayed as a land full of overweight, beer-guzzling, gun owners. The stereotype did seem to fit to some extent—he couldn't imagine anyone who would walk these streets unarmed after the sun set. Nevertheless, there was a large portion of this country hidden from the eyes of the rest of the world.
It was lurking down every back alley; it was lurking in the hungry, toothless mouths of every beggar; it was lurking in the angry, cold stare of every African American and Hispanic youth that didn't have the privilege of growing up in the 'burbs. Poverty. Third-world poverty.
It was a miracle, he thought, that this country hadn't annihilated itself already. The rich and the poor were thrown together in this city like a mismatched deck of cards. For every methed out prostitute or every cooked up thug, there was a CEO giant or a Net star celebrity. For every rotting ghetto there was a towering skyscraper. For every shit-filled street, a tree-lined promenade. For every dealer's corner, an expensive restaurant or an even more expensive clothing store. Everything either reeked of money or an absolute lack there of.
Disgusting.
After they'd settled in their apartment, Misato had given them each a Fibramic-composite handgun to keep with them at all times, as if to reinforce this unyielding sense of danger; the tense stares he would get walking home after a long day of class or the quiet murmurs of other groups of kids on the street his age that were watching, waiting for him to walk into one of those Godforsaken alleys just for once. While another hydrocell Mercedez rolled past their dejected grimace, fiberglass engine purring softly into his ear.
He could only imagine that they were saying even worse things about Rei and Asuka; the three always walked together. For their sake, he had been tremendously thankful that every Envoy got a full regiment of Judo along with two other martial arts of their choice. He had personally taken six others. But then Misato was an amazingly talented sparring partner and teacher.
And San Fransisco was supposed to be one of the "nicer" cities. America was an odd place, all in all.
After passing through the metal detectors he proceeded up to class, glad to see the five percent aluminum parts of the Fibramic Nemex had yet to fail under the school's scrutiny—not that he suspected it was particularly intense security. Students talked or in some cases shouted a mix of city-dialect, Westcoastisms, the odd inflection of burbanite slang that he simply didn't understand, all over the more agreeable tones of some of the quieter, more intellectual students.
Asuka took her seat, muttering German to herself about this morning's most recent proposition; "euro-ho" and "bitch" had been some of the most pleasant parts of the garishly-dressed Latino's request for a date. And that was using the word request in the most general of terms. But Asuka had enough bite and wit, not to mention conditioning, to more than deal with the harassment.
After Rei had almost broken a six-foot-three's wrist on Tuesday, most of the men had realized that "the silent pale chick" was not to be "fucked with." Shinji grinned to himself, recalling the way the gang's faces had recoiled when their "boy" was dealt with after mistakenly placing a hand on her petite shoulder; the precept of soft Japanese girls was shattered in an instant.
As for himself, most had largely ignored him except for the occasional snide remark to one of his fellow Envoys, asking if he was their "man." Although he did notice another group of girls every day giggling behind cupped hands and hushed voices, eyes aimed squarely at his ass. Shinji disregarded the attention and hostility, calling on his reserves of inner-calm. And it was easy for the most part.
For all the hard talk, anyone attending this private high school was for the most part image; their parents had at least enough money to send them here, and so the gangster façade was mostly amusing to Shinji by this point. None of these foul mouths knew what it was like to take a human life, he suspected, though some of the quieter ones had probably witnessed it firsthand already. Even the privileged weren't segregated from the violence regardless of whether or not they called some of the nastier places in this city home.
Perhaps it was one of these cynical moods that distracted him from the trio of new students in class that Friday. Or his contemplation of his disappearance.
The teacher strode in and stared until everyone had taken their seats or gotten to their own classes. He aimed his gaze somewhere near the back before starting.
"Mr. Suzuhara, so nice to see you and your friends again. I hope you will not be missing any further classes?"
"Yeah, we'll think about it," the boy growled.
Most of the class erupted into laughter and the teacher frowned as if he had expected better of the young man he addressed.
"Another outburst like that Mr. Suzuhara and I'm going to remove you from class."
Shinji had turned at the Asian name to find a boy with short dark hair and only moderately Eastern features. He had a discontent frown hung underneath intense black eyebrows, arms crossed over a short black jacket. He was muscular, probably into sports. His dark eyes burned ahead into the front of the class, completely disregarding the good humor of his peers. His cronies on either side did their best to imitate the boy's expression, but failed under the observation of Envoy senses. They didn't really mean it like the one in the middle.
Shinji read the facial muscles in less time than it had taken the boy to reply: this young man was extremely upset about something. His posture was enough to indicate he might just be knocking someone out in the next five minutes for the hell of it. Breaking point, breaking point, breaking point, his mind kept screaming over and over again. He had all the classic symptoms of someone on the verge of violence.
"Sorry teach, the captain's had some personal matters to attend to recently," one of the cronies spoke up for him.
"Yeah, cap's not in a very good mood today. Won't happen again," the other piped in.
"I hope not, boys."
Though Shinji had turned away, he could now feel Touji's eyes burning into the back of his own head now. Like a sixth sense. And then the last name finally hit him, bouncing him into awareness. Touji Suzuhara, the Fourth Child.
"Ano hito ga..."Asuka whispered in hurried Japanese beside him as the lecture began.
"Hey, that's the one, right?"
"Hai, sou desu," he replied, keeping in his native tongue.
"Yeah, it's him."
" Atama kisou da naa?"
"Looks pretty pissed off don'tcha think?"
"Tottemo."
"Very."
The professor's brief glance held them from any further conversing.
Fifty minutes and much yawning later the lecture was over. As they stood up to leave for the next class, Shinji paused waiting for the two girls. Rei was asking questions to the teacher who seemed relieved to find a student as enthusiastic about the subject matter as her. Shinji stared out of the windows as another sunny day grudgingly rose through the pollution, like a gray smear smudged on the bleak blue sky.
"Lunch. I'll find you. One on one."
He recognized the whispered voice immediately, layers of hatred peeling free underneath the acidic tones. But as Shinji turned to face him he was met with the site of the trio trudging out of class. One of the cronies gave him a look over his shoulder and nothing more. Shinji felt his fist clench at his side. Not entirely of his own doing. The conditioning whispered horrible nothings somewhere underneath his thoughts, a placid calm towards the impending violence falling over him in a breath.
"Daijoubu, Shinji?" Asuka asked, smiling softly.
"Something wrong, Shinji?"
"Nan demo nai."
"Nothing at all."
Sure, I've sparred with Misato but, I've never really fought another Envoy before.
"Well, they should be meeting today. I guess we'll see how it goes." They both spoke in Japanese, tired of using English so often. It was a reprieve from dealing with the Second Branch which was almost entirely English speakers.
"I'm just praying we don't get a call from the principal or several. I hear the Fourth is still pretty upset about Tokyo-3."
"You know how boys are. They have to do something with all that testosterone."
"Yeah, unfortunately. You taught me that one."
Kaji's light laugh tinkled over the café's ambiance as his espresso sloshed threateningly close to the edge of the cup in his hand. Misato returned his expression with a humorless stare. She was having a hot cocoa. Kaji's head bobbed comically about as he watched the faux artiste clientele, a mix of delight and calm smoothly covering over the much more serious nature of the gesture: surveillance. Specifically, counter-surveillance.
They were in the back, a nice spot downtown far away enough from the windows that a distance-mic wouldn't be able to pick up the conversation. Misato was faced towards the front door. Kaji covered the rear half. There was a back exit for the alley through the kitchen, just in case. It would take top of the line equipment to be getting anything through the walls and they had chosen the spot at random, just like always, in case of the possibility of bugs. For extra precaution they both wore two tiny transmitters planted just below the base of the neck that would static out about ninety-nine percent of the conventional recording devices in existence.
Their concern was multiple. They had both been instructed by Fuyutsuki to assume that their cover for entering the country would probably already be blown to the CIA before they had arrived. Thankfully the Second Branch was more than enough of an excuse to be entering the country in secret. And the Child Envoy project was far enough out of their realm of knowledge to hide the identities of the children. But anything the US intelligence community could retrieve on their whereabouts was of far more concern, primarily because of its potential to fall into SEELE hands.
The CIA and Homeland departments liked to believe they were tight, and in the counter-terrorism areas, they were extraordinarily so; second to none even. The bio-weapon attack on the East coast was a mistake this country was unwilling to repeat, and the budget for that department alone was staggering. People in the highest level special-op and anti-terror units simply vanished. But when it came to general intelligence gathering, even in a country so very careful and stringent with its high-end military, SEELE had their footholds. Dr. Akagi's hacking of all of their mid-to-low-level personnel had insured this reality.
Unfortunately, that was one card they could not yet play.
Reading Kaji's safe signal, she continued.
"You've read his file. The kid's practically an adrenalin junky. There was a heavy amount of doubt placed onto whether or not to even start him as an operative. The Corps distrust any sort of instability. Hell, you practically got Asuka kicked out for the stunts you pulled with her."
Kaji waved his hand back and forth in a "pish-posh" gesture she'd seen him use all too frequently and smiled in the mood lighting that was just a little overdone for a midday coffee.
"I let her have some passion; any great actor has to have passion to play their part. Besides, it's not like you followed all the rules on your little one either. He's soft enough to poke a hole in."
"Flexible, not soft. And you didn't meet Rei before you started training her..."
"I heard the stories."
"Like I said, you didn't meet her. I gave Shinji something Gendou took away from her. I wasn't about turn him into a… killing-machine." Something inside her shuddered for a moment.
Kaji's eyes glazed over briefly in a way she found starkly unfamiliar. Reading the concern in her, he shook his head softly and hid it under another sip of his drink. They were not compromised.
"You did your job, and I did mine. Just like sensei asked us," he said in a manner that sounded almost resolved.
"I know, I know that, Kaji. I'm just saying. I mean. You've met the girl, she's not… typical. Not to mention, you can see the resemblance, can't you?"
"It is remarkable, isn't it?" he mused. "When she grows up I think it may be even more astonishing."
Misato frowned over her cocoa, staring out into the bustle of the lunch hour in downtown.
"I almost can't believe it Kaji, that he would to that to his own wife—"
"Watch. It." He said it with a deadly calm and it was all the more firm. Misato closed her mouth, her brow contracting as if she'd just said something out of taste about the current political climate at some fancy dinner party. Then she smiled at him, genuinely.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Sometimes I feel like we're still taking lessons in Japan, still in college together."
He sighed, eyes gleaming at her as he cradled his chin in sturdy hands. It would have appeared as feminine to Misato with any other person she knew, but there was something ridiculously sexy about the pose when he did it; something Misato felt every time she'd watched him like that. It was so terribly boyish. Maybe it was the same way he'd been sitting when she'd entered that restaurant to meet him for their first date so long ago; she couldn't remember.
"I miss those days, too, Misato."
She recoiled, feeling the heaviness of it too abruptly.
"I never said I missed them. They were just... simpler than this."
"Speaking of which."
Kaji pulled free a lash from his right eye. The kill signal. Someone was watching them.
"What do you think?"
Cigarette smoke wafted into the ventilation duct, sucked away and out into the atmosphere. She was relieved at its disappearance; after all, she hated the smell of the non-toxics.
"Well, the results are rather impressive. They suggest a particularly interesting pattern I had suspected for some time, though never with any proper evidence."
"Which is?"
Fuyutsuki was never ambiguous in their discussions. He knew he could not be. She would never be able to properly calibrate the MAGI without all of the information.
"Tell me what you think first. I'm curious," the doctor replied coyly.
"I see an eight-percent jump in the synchronization records for Agent Ikari during the last nine minutes of operation 304. Now, please, tell me what you see, doctor."
Ritsuko smiled through an exhalation of fake tobacco. He was always so adamant about passing judgment on anything other than the tactical until she had coaxed him along. The gray eyes watched with an uncanny intensity she had once been nervous around. When she had finally grown used to his unceasing analyzing, the awkwardness disappeared, replaced with a strong sense of respect she felt was mutual. Genius tended to recognize genius.
"Heightened anxiety. Emotional distress. Probably the most dangerous mission he's been on."
"Raise the stakes and we see a leap in performance?"
"Well, something like that. But it's more than just that. The spike starts just before Shinji enters the command deck. Right before he gets to Misato."
"So she is the reason, perhaps?"
She nodded, black glasses bobbing in time.
"Yes. But... Do you know that scandal about the hunting of lions on the Serengeti? Ever since cloning became a viable anti-endangerment technology, recreational hunting clubs started mass producing prides; but you know why they had to stop?"
Fuyutsuki shook his head, a smile hidden somewhere underneath the sharp line of his lips.
"The female lions became extremely unpredictable in hunting circumstance. Particularly when their cubs seemed to be threatened. They were often able to survive far beyond the normal extent thought physically capable of an adult female. We are talking about several lethal shots with a high-powered rifle. Then the females started jumping onto the three-meter-tall shooting platforms… this was all after several lethal shots. After the first hunter fatality they started putting tranquilizer serum into the bullets to release on impact. Another fourteen hunters were killed before the clubs were shut down permanently."
He nodded. And so she continued, admiring his icy patience yet again.
"Of course, in the lawsuits that followed, the prosecutors used some suspect pseudoscience to indicate that the lions had been cloned from an abnormally strong pride on purpose. There was even some finger pointing that the operations had purposely re-engineered the DNA to make the animals live longer and fight harder; to try and make hunts more exciting, more intense. None of it was ever proven conclusively. But..."
This time Fuyutsuki spoke:
"A group of biologists came along not too much later, proposing a wild theory. After all of the genetic testing proved inconclusive, the group published their hypothesis that the result of these super-human, or rather, super-lion acts were because of a region of the lion's cortex which they believed to be encoded into what we commonly refer to as 'parental-instinct,' specifically, the drive to protect one's children. The particular section of the brain was of altered structure in every one of the cloned lions' heads, children, males, and females. They argued that it had only manifested in females because the mother instinct was so intensely powerful. They even went on to claim that this was the result of a spontaneous evolution, an adaptation to the environment the prides had been confronted with in the hunting pens. A very controversial paper, if I remember correctly."
"You always feign innocence, my dear Fuyutsuki," she chided.
"I enjoy a good story." He smiled at her, white teeth sneaking free for an instant.
"Then I shall continue. Surely you've heard of the full extension of their theory: that not only would the mother lions display this unbelievable stamina when their children were in danger, but that eventually the behavior would be passed down to the adult males, and even the children in defense of their parents at some point."
"The scientific community treated that paper like hearsay. Most of the contributors lost their jobs or tenure over it," he said, sighing.
"And Bruno was burned at the stake for proposing the rest of universe just might have other planets with other beings. We tend to have strikingly closed minds for a community of pioneers," Ritsuko lamented after another long drag.
"What are you telling me with this little anecdote, my good doctor?"
"The MAGI tell us how to update the Plugsuit coding according to their scroll-analyzing algorithms and a combination of a rock-paper-scissors like logic system, allowing each brain to approach the issue from a different set of reasoning skills entirely. While this considerably slows down the computing process, even creating the occasional disagreement, it also prevents action from being taken without a unilateral consensus between the three, making the entire system far less prone to any error. The changes that they make to the suit programming occur most frequently during combat operations in which the suits are utilized, some times spitting out up to three to four different re-writes of the S2 coding within a single second. One might liken this process to the theoretical model for spontaneous mutation."
"There of a lot of Darwinists you could alienate with a statement like that..." he admonished, not entirely serious.
"Fuck 'em. Nature is more chaos than slow progression anyways."
"Only one so eloquent can be allowed to use such language." He frowned and then it disappeared. "Are you perhaps implying that the MAGI are re-tailoring the suits to become more... responsive under the emotional duress of their occupants, not unlike how a lioness might feel protecting her cubs?"
"Elevated adrenalin levels and the fight or flight response of the brain make this a natural choice for increased synchronization. And consider this: the Plugsuits all went from exact copies of one another to developing idiosyncrasies shortly after we began having each of the children use them. The MAGI system is an adaptive problem solver, verging on sentience; and yet, though the entire system and structure may change over time, each of the three individualities contained within remains firmly unique; there is an 'unwillingness' in the system to compromise this separation beyond just the instructions of the AI programming. It seems obvious then that they would create something in their own image, does it not?"
"God created man in his own image."
Ritsuko found she had nothing more to add to the discussion. She was still ill at ease when the man entered a phase of religious reflection. Though she could hardly blame the sentiment, knowing what they both knew.
It was lunchtime before the crowd started gathering. Shinji must have looked "don't fuck with me" enough to prevent any direct conversation with the bystanders, but he could hear it in the whispers and feel it in the mood; excitement, tension, danger. Apparently Touji hadn't been as discreet as he had assumed. People pooled just far enough away from their table to watch.
"What's going on," Asuka said, not really looking up from her lunch. "Ogling the new kids again?"
"Something else," Rei said softly, eyes never leaving his face. Asuka noticed and also turned to him.
"Shinji?"
"I have something I need to take care of."
A residual "oooh" began building up behind him. Rei's eyes locked on past his shoulder. Asuka snapped around, following her gaze and the crowd jeered.
"Shinji..." Asuka started.
"Wakaru. Shitsurei."
"I know. Excuse me."
He turned to find the same angry boy, slowly striding up, cronies on either side. Shinji ignored them entirely, focusing on him. Watching his gait. Judging his reach. Checking for any sign of nervousness or caution. Not that there would be. Envoys were comfortable with violence the way a dolphin was comfortable underwater. While they didn't exactly breathe the stuff, they could survive no problem.
Several other cronies of his apparently were in the process of making a ring, and now other students had begun to show up, not just those on the high end of the gossip totem pole. The guys seemed to be largely grinning as if they were going to be seeing a great show. The girls seemed more tentative in general, though not all of them. Some were cheering right along with the mob.
"Tou-ji! Tou-ji! Tou-ji!"
The boy held up his hand for silence. They complied instantly, despite a few agitated whispers.
Shinji quietly noticed that Rei and Asuka were now on either of his sides, flanking him just slightly in a mirror image of Touji and his two cronies.
"This is between me and Ikari," he said, addressing the two girls.
"Like I really fuckin' care," Asuka snapped.
One of the cronies took a step forward before being pushed back with Touji's hand.
"Ikari and I are friends," Rei said softly, coldness seeping through. She too could sense the violence in him.
"Not that I have anything against hitting girls—I'm not a sexist—I just don't see any reason to get you both involved. Besides, I'd rather not mar those pretty faces."
"As if you could, cocky prick." This got some hoots out of the crowd. Asuka grinned at the trio while her eyes grimaced. One of the cronies was practically shaking with anger. Shinji saw it easily.
Too much ego in that one.
Touji closed his eyes, making an equally nasty grin. He re-opened them and spoke again.
"Listen you German whore, as much as I'd like to flatten you, this is a personal matter solely between me and him." Asuka's eye twitched malignant. More loud hooting followed, along with some similar insults from the students. He continued, ignoring her and the crowd. "I would fight you also Ms. Ayanami, but I understand you and your family lived in Tokyo-3 as well... so, I suppose you've had enough punishment already."
"Shinji lived there as well," Rei replied coolly.
"Yes, but unlike you, this little shit got a free ride out before the bomb fell... all because his daddy works in the government!"
The crowd was totally silent; the annihilation of Tokyo-3 hit a little too close to home with the devastation of the East coast not so long ago. Shinji strangely suspected this had earned him some sympathy somehow. Touji continued, oblivious now in the throes of his rage.
"Just like I suspected, the government knew all along it was going to happen! Since they couldn't evacuate everyone, they didn't tell anybody and the fat cats pulled their kids out and let everyone else... burn."
His voice cracked at the end, though he was practically screaming. Shinji knew it then instantly: Touji had lost someone in Tokyo-3, someone with whom he was very close to. This was why he hadn't been at school when Shinji first arrived. This was where this terrible source of anger seemed to flow from him, straight into Shinji. He found himself strangely pitying his aggressor now. The Second Branch had kept Touji in the dark about each of their identities for some odd reason.
"Shinji..." Asuka was looking at him now.
"It's okay. This will be over soon."
He nodded to both of them and they joined the crowd.
Touji had wiped away angry tears before they had blended into the crowd. His two cronies left his sides to help regulate the mob. Most were now thoroughly enthralled with the spectacle. This was far more intense than most of them had expected, Shinji thought. He could hear the whispers of "Holy shit," "Touji's gonna kill that guy," and "This is nuts!"
Touji stood a few steps out of striking range and lowered himself into a classic Jeet Kun Do pose. Shinji recognized it and lowered himself into one of his own self-stylized stances that he thought would match it well.
But just before they started, a girl cried out and burst through the ring of spectators before being stopped by one of the cronies. Her brown pig tails danced wildly as she shouted at the boy.
"Stop it, Touji! Just stop it! Please!" Practically crying, she was pushed back into the crowd beside Asuka.
"Afraid he's going to lose?" Asuka said aside to the girl. Her eyes were full of tears. She shook her head and the brown pigtails flew once again.
"No! You don't understand! Touji, he—he loved his little sister so much. But... she was living in Tokyo-3 before—before the bomb. I'm afraid he won't stop even once the fight is over!"
Asuka made a small "ah" sound and nodded. The other girl grabbed her though, shaking her and almost yelling now.
"Don't you get it? Touji's the captain of the martial arts team here at school. On the weekends, when he's not winning tournaments he fights instructors from local dojos; these are grown men. He's beaten a few of them so badly they've had to go to the hospital. But if he fights Shinji like this, he could... he could kill him!"
And then she was sobbing on Asuka's shoulder. The redhead looked around at the rest of the awestruck crowd, far too focused on the two stretching now to notice the girl wailing on Asuka. Slowly, carefully she patted the girl's head, finally giving up and putting her arm around her.
And then the blows started.
They were a series of quick jabs and the occasional kick. Shinji knew from experience that these were more about probing his defenses then trying to land anything particularly solid. And Shinji returned the favor, much to the bewilderment of Touji: he had not expected to be fighting someone equally well-versed in martial arts.
Obviously he had mistaken Shinji's original stance as an amateurish attempt to match the vicious looking Jeet Kun Do pose. He was wrong.
The real hits came next. Fast, elbows low and hard, knees thrown in for variation, while they twisted around each other, Touji instinctively aiming for what he assumed was a weaker left side. But Shinji stepped into the offensive using the surprise of his maneuver to deflect the initial strikes and very nearly trip Touji's over extended right leg. The crowd was already practically roaring. They'd probably never seen two martial artists of this skill face off; they probably never would again.
The boy jumped back correcting his mistake and laughing in a way that was entirely unpleasant.
"This is going to be good after all! Now I don't have to hold back!"
And with that he came charging back in, now switching his focus onto Shinji's right shoulder. Open palm strikes came twirling and twisting from all angles and the boy's speed had seemed to double in that instant. Shinji had to bounce back and away, unable to match the sudden change in pace. He let the conditioning take a stronger hold of the battle instincts. The scream of the crowd faded away to his breathing, slow and deep, chi exercises to match his next set. Touji's chest heaved in the same manner. Not tired, just focusing it, getting the rhythm. And searching for weakness.
But as the boy move to struck again, his offensive became erratic, sloppy.
Too much emotion, Shinji thought. Too much anger. Must be calm. Calm…
Shinji knowing that he had the mental advantage now, quickly repelled the series of strikes, parrying the blows with some of his own, before drastically turning up the tempo and starting a charge of his own. Touji was able to keep up with Shinji's sudden reversal until all but the last moments, then he had him in a classic Judo throw, his pose over-extended so that it was all but inevitable. He saw the boy's face resign as he flew over his shoulder and harshly into the ground on his back.
To his credit, he did not make a sound as he landed, rather going limp, eyes staring out above and beyond Shinji, mouth contracted in a tiny frown.
"You won," he said softly. "Fucking good for you."
Shinji ignored the open mouths of all but Asuka and Rei, and instead squatted next to the boy, offering him a friendly hand up. He could not smile at him, though a part of him wanted to.
"It's so easy for you, isn't it? You get to win. You get to come here and not think about all that shit. You don't have anyone to leave behind you there. So fucking easy."
Shinji withdrew the hand and stood. The cool calm of the conditioning washed away with maddening ease, replaced by bubbling rage.
"Easy? What do you know? What do you know about easy? What makes my life so fucking great?"
He felt the unfair bitterness come screeching out with every word. Suddenly he hated this boy, hated his ignorance.
Touji shut his eyes then, blocking him out and whispering:
"You didn't have to lose anyone..."
Working for NERV has got to be so cool! Dude, when I graduate high school, I'm going to come work for you guys, I promise! You can get me an application right?
"His name was Kensuke Aida, you selfish fuck!" He was screaming at the boy. He did not know why but he was screaming with all the breath he had in his lungs. "Okay? He was my best friend, or the closest thing I'll ever have to one! And he's gone now. No one will remember him! No one can because his whole family is dead too! He doesn't have a grave! No one can bury him! Do you get it yet? He is gone. Really and truly gone. Forever. I am the only one who knows his name anymore. I am his grave. I am Kensuke Aida's grave!"
The eyebrows scrunched, and his face went blank. Like he was unwilling to listen, or believe. Shinji walked away disgusted almost running into Asuka as he left.
"Shinji, are you..." she started to ask him.
"Nan demo nai."
Three Fin
A/N: Woohaa! Intense, eh? And what about Kaji and Misato? Is the whole trip compromised? Is the jig up? What the hell did Gendou do with Rei? And why wouldn't the Second Branch tell Touji Shinji's real identity? All this (well, not quite) and more, next time! Wow, that was so cheesy (hopefully the end of this chapter wasn't though).
I'm never sure if I pull off sadness very well in my writing. I can capture melancholy pretty well, but it's that kind of deep sadness that's fueled by rage, the sort brilliantly portrayed by Asuka in the series, that I find to be hardest to do. I hope it was acceptable but, I am eagerly looking for criticism for my portrayal of this emotion as it will be a reoccurring theme. gasp
Once again I'd like to give a giant "thank you" to all of my reviewers. Your criticisms matter a lot to me (as does your encouragement) and you should know that nothing is set in stone. You have just as much power over this story as I do, because, really, what is a story without an audience? Just words.
One other minor note: we haven't seen Asuka fawning over Kaji yet as of one of you pointed out because A) she was already asleep when Kaji entered the cabin. I thought about doing that scene differently but I wanted Shinji's opinion of him the most so… B) We haven't seen them in scenes together other than that one. Thus you can expect a lil' fawning. Just remember that she's now eighteen, hence more mature and also, Kaji is her sensei for Envoy training, so their relationship is oddly different from the series in some respects.
Japanese lesson for this chapter:
-Ne is a particle used explicitly at the end of Japanese sentences to lighten the meaning or seek agreement. Its closest English equivalent is probably "right" as in "sou da ne?" or "isn't that right?" Ne, while not a particularly feminine word, is probably used more by girls simply because of its lightening effect on a sentence. Even when stating something explicitly, ne can be added onto the end to sort of seek the agreement (or imply one's agreement). Naa is probably the closest masculine equivalent to ne, but translating the actual difference in meaning is nigh impossible for someone with as little experience as myself. The only reason I mention this is because Asuka has a tendency (in my story anyways!) to speak with male usage words mostly. She doesn't do anything crazy like use "boku" when referring to herself (literally: young man) but she certainly does not speak with an effeminate manner either, purposely avoiding a more feminine tone unless she wants too say something particularly sexy (ooh!).
I actually say ne a lot more than naa when I speak Japanese because it feels more natural to many and I'm already plenty masculine as is. :P