AN: So...four months, huh? Boy does time fly when your ass is on the line in college. Sorry to have taken so long, but you know, college, vacations, booze, beach... Anyway, without further adoom or however you write it, I give you...the new Chapter! Hurray!
Scar Tissue
Chapter Eleven. Tenth Act: Closer To The Heart
Forgiveness.
Such an elusive, releasing feeling. What is it really, to forgive? Is it to forget, to let the painful events be forgotten and let time heal the wounds? Or is it something beyond that which we understand? It is said that forgiving is divine, that it brings us closer to true illumination. It is said that those who forgive the sins perpetrated against them are enlightened by the intoxicating sensation of no longer having a weight on their shoulders. Anger, hatred, ambition, jealousy. These emotions burden us humans throughout the development of our lives; they burden us with the unforgiving heaviness of disdain. It is truly the mark of a higher being to be able to absolve one from past actions.
What is it really, to forgive?
I have asked myself these questions countless times in the meager hours of the night and morning, when there was nothings else for me to do but gaze at the pictures I secretly held in my left drawer, two boxes to the left, of my so called "imposing" desk. These pictures, they forced me to ask myself whether I even deserved to be forgiven. Losing myself in my son´s haunted eyes, I came to understand that to forgive is to be able to love. When we love someone, we are able to forgive almost any hurt or pain our loved ones make us go through. To forgive is simply to love.
Oh, but there are limits.
Betrayal destroys love; it stains it so very completely, it breaks the thin, almost imperceptible line between love and hate. I betrayed my son when he was so very young, so very innocent, and because of that he ended up betraying the one person he held so dear to his heart. How sad, to know that my example, my wrongdoing forced my own flesh and blood to suffer.
Bah, excuses, empty, pathetic excuses.
Even to me they seem so hollow, so insufficient. I stopped caring; I forced a layer of ice around my own heart so the pain of watching my son suffer time and time again would not drive me to insanity or suicide. And oh, how I contemplated suicide. Every week, after everything was done, after all the reports had been read and all the bills paid and all the bureaucratic asses were greased and kissed, when there was absolutely nothing to keep me from reaching into that drawer and gazing at the many, many pictures I so secretly possessed of my boy, the pain would be so unbearable that I would often leave my handgun away from me, just so the temptation would not win.
Empty faith kept me alive for ten years, an empty faith that somehow, I would be able to reunite my son with his mother, that somehow I would be able to be together with my Yui and my Shinji; that somehow we´d be a family again, in the midst of Apocalypse. How sad, to know it was all for nothing.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
My daughter. Is it possible for you to believe how proud of her I was, when she decided to take her own path and attempt to rescue her brother? At that moment, when she turned her back on me, the feeling I had fought so hard to keep buried erupted like a geyser. I allowed myself to love my daughter, and in return the disgust of my actions led me to absolute despair. If only I could apologize to her.
Pathetic. I know, even now, that giving love or comfort to another human being is impossible for me. I could never even muster up the courage to tell my son I loved him.
I cannot ask Shinji for anything. I hope against hope that one day he will be able to leave me behind and find happiness on his own terms, and stand on his own two feet. It breaks me now, when I remember everything he did to try and earn my love, I loved him all along, more than life itself; only I lied to him and to myself so the painful journey of manipulating him could be dulled. I was naïve, nothing can shield you from guilt.
Perhaps one day I will be able to redeem my sins towards my son and daughter, but for now all I can do is attempt to bring them some semblance of peace. As I gaze into the dead, hollow eyes of the boy sent to both save and destroy me, as his cold, lethal gaze falls upon me, I realize what greed is capable of performing. There is nothing sacred for greed or ambition, nothing too valuable not to be sold or burned. This boy standing before me is the sad product of ambition's twisted, irrational desire. My own son could become like this, an empty shell of a human being with nothing left in life but an endless struggle with one's own corrupted existence. This is the result of our desire to become God, the desire to attain that which can only be given by another. It cannot be created, manufactured, bought or stolen. Do you not find it pathetic too, that the world had to almost end twice so that a fraction of humanity could understand this simple, basic fact?
Now that I was given a second chance at living, I will attempt to fulfill my promise to my daughter. I will live my life diligently; I will not run away anymore. I believe myself to have grown too old to be running away. Fighting is probably the one action I have always been good at; perhaps it is time to put such an ability to use, now when the Children need me the most.
I have dwelled in the shadows for a long time, and it is through those shadows that I am able to set my scenarios in motion. As I hold this truly beautiful Makarov in my hand, feeling the weight of the cold metal barrel on my left palm, I see so very clearly what must be done. Hmpf, it would appear that the United Nations have grown weary of being forced into submission by the Old Men. How ironic, to think those bureaucrats would plot on a strike on the world's most powerful men, even considering they had been the ones to blindly provide said Old Men the means to fulfill their pathetic ambition.
The weapon is still in my hand, and I can feel the small disk in my back pocket. The smell of blood is rapidly starting to infest the cage I find myself in, and I cannot help but smile as I remember how coldly this man had been murdered. The events that have unfurled in this very cage only solidify the truth; Earth is in shambles, people everywhere in the globe are starving, cold, scared and angry. They do not understand what has happened, they just know the world has been tarnished and battered to horrendous extents, yet all they can think about is finding someone to point their finger at. They did not understand the meaning of Instrumentality. Perhaps God does exist, and perhaps He does have a plan, the only inconvenience is that we humans are far too blind to glimpse at a truth that stands before us as clear as daylight.
We still care only for ourselves, we still believe our own personal traumas and pains are so deep and horrible that no-one can even begin to hope to understand them. We blindly use anything in our reach; without a single thought we devour our nature, our kinsmen and ourselves. We believe ourselves to be cut from each other, from the ties that truly make us human. But hope is not dead yet. If my boy could grasp this reality, if he was strong enough to suffer so we all could have another opportunity, it will be nothing less than an insult to myself if I do nothing. Throughout my entire life, I would not have expected my chance at redemption to be handed to me so easily. It will be a hard, painful road indeed, but I am Gendo Ikari. I am the Supreme Commander of NERV.
And I have a plan.
Shinji awoke to the soft sounds of the food cart's wheels as they entered his small room during the late hours of morning. It came as a sad, somewhat cold realization that his bed contained only him, but remembering Asuka was home preparing everything for his arrival quickly brought a relieved smile to his face. She had mentioned something about waking up early to pick up some things somewhere, but he had been way too drowsy to correctly remember what it was. Misato was gone from the room too, sadly.
Glancing at the nurse, who looked sheepish and somewhat ashamed of waking him, he smiled and greeted her with a sunny demeanor, something truly unlike him.
"Hi Kazumi-san! How are you this morning?" The happiness could not but escape from his tone, and he truly could not be happier. One more day and finally, after a tedious, torturous month tied to the bed he had come to despise, he would be released from the hellish room and the annoying beeps of the NERV Medical Ward. For far too long he had been awakened by the stinging pain of one of the many needles in him when they shifted out of place as he moved in his troubled sleep. For far too long had his nostrils been sickened by the stench of disinfectant and antiseptic, forcing him to control his gag reflex so as not to vomit every time he took a breath. Shinji was confused; he did not quite sure knew which odor he hated the most: the smell of LCL, the smell of hospitals or the smell of rotting meat. Quite frankly, those were all stenches people tended to hate anyway, so there was nothing abnormal with his profound hatred for hospitals.
"Oh, aren't you all sunshine and giggles today! It's nice to see you smile Shinji-kun!" said the nurse happily, relieved to finally glance at the relaxed expression of her young charge. Even better was the knowledge that the redheaded nightmare who for some reason was still allowed within a hundred yards of Shinji was finally gone. If she had her way, under no circumstances would that girl be allowed to interact with her patient.
Shinji smiled nonetheless, blissfully unaware of the nurse's distaste for Asuka. Always the shy one, he blushed at the compliment, awkwardly scratching his cheek as he imagined the sweet taste of fresh air.
"Well… I'm finally going home. I miss it so much, and it really bothers me to think that Asuka and Misato are handling things in there. It'll probably look like a war zone when I get there." Shinji chuckled again, remembering the first time he had walked into Misato's apartment. Boy, had that been a surprise.
Once again, Shinji did not quite catch the twitch in the nurse's right eye at the mention of his aggressor. In his mind, Asuka had done nothing wrong; he had relinquished his life long ago after all, but to everyone else she was nothing more than a deranged psychopath with sadistic tendencies, whose only purpose in life was to punish him. All in all, it mattered very little to him what everyone else thought. If Instrumentality had managed to rinse something out of him, it was the interest of knowing how other people saw him. It was too painful anyway, to think of all the people who hated him, who knew what he was and what he had done. It was too painful and too troublesome to think about. What did everyone else know, anyway?
"Well, let me just make your leave a bit more comfortable then, shall we?" Quickly getting back to her work, the kind nurse painlessly removed the syringes from his arm, placing a band-aid on his vein.
After she was done, she redressed the bandages around his waist and chest. Needless to say, Shinji himself was in awe at the efficiency of the serum Akagi had invented. The incision scars, where the doctors had been forced to open up and somehow rearrange the many shards of broken bone stuck in between his diaphragm and lungs, which had later forced him to breath with the help of a machine for over two weeks, those painful, bluish and throbbing wounds had somehow disappeared. Now, the stitches had slowly fallen out one after the other; there were still many holding the scar closed, but soon enough, they'd fall out on their own as well. The swelling had almost disappeared, leaving a trail of healing skin around the wound. All in all, he seemed to be improving marvelously under the serum.
This did not sit well with the nursing staff. For about four months they had been the ones to treat Shinji whenever he required medical attention, and he always came back for the same reason. That girl. That sadistic, egomaniac, insufferable little bitch. If Kazumi discovered true evidence of such abuse, or discovered Shinji was being forced to clean and wash and cook, even when his diaphragm was in such a tarnished shape, then perhaps she´d be able to sue for a third time and grant him some sort of emancipation so his health would no longer be in danger. The mere thought of the redheaded bitch was enough for her to tie Shinji's bandages a tad too roughly. She noticed only after he made a hissing sound and recoiled.
"Oops, sorry Shinji-kun. I think we're all set now. I'm gonna go run some errands and I'll be back to see you go. Get well soon!"
The nurse hurried off to do whatever it was she needed to do. Shinji stretched loudly on his bed, lifting his arms until they trembled and yawning splendidly, feeling somewhat energized and safe with the bandages snugly keeping his wounds in place. The cold porcelain floor felt alien on his naked soles, yet the feeling was not uncomfortable enough for him to wish for some socks. For far too long he had sat there, feeling nothing but pain, confusion and depression; now the feeling of cold on his feet felt as good as a refreshing cold shower. He longed to be able to cook once again, to be able to hold and play the cello like before, to feel the soft strings press against his fingertip and emit sweet mournful sounds at his will.
It had been way too long since he had had the opportunity to play, or even listen to his songs in peace, yet sitting there in perfect calmness gave him the chance he needed to collect his thoughts and promptly ask himself just what the fuck he was going to do next. For some reason, much of the agony that had until the day before torn at his soul without mercy, leaving him to be a poor zombie-like excuse of a human being, had somehow been replaced by the slight, almost imperceptible hope he felt towards tomorrow.
Breathing in the stench of disinfectant in the air once again, Shinji decided it was time to finally try to openly move. Carefully placing the soles of his feet back down on the ground, he lifted himself up in one fluid motion, yet the moment he made the abrupt movement to lift his healing ribs, it was very clear that it was in fact way too soon for him to move like that. Shortly the pain dulled and Shinji occupied himself with walking from side to side in his room, examining what he could actually do without hurting himself, and it turned out his movements were still very much limited. Lifting his left arm was a stupid idea; that stretched the healing tissue around his rib cage and it simply hurt way too much. Jumping or running was definitely out of the question, but luckily he had no trouble with walking. On an added note, his good diet had managed to fill him with healthy energy and regain some mass.
He smiled placidly, sitting on the bed once again before a very cold shudder ran down his spine. There was something wrong in the room, and he couldn't quite place what it was but he was suddenly colder, scared, as if a predator was lurking right by his side, hungry to devour its meal. For a moment of hysteria he thought he was losing his mind again, then he felt it. He felt the seat of the Entry plug dig into his back, he felt their pain, their fear, all of it all at once. He saw Lilith smiling down at him and taking his sanity away in one final act of cruelty. He could feel the world twisting around him, and the image he so fervently despised was inside his mind; he could see Unit 2. Then, he heard it.
"You really think you're safe from me?"
The breath caught in his throat, the room started spinning and the stench of LCL penetrated through the fog of disinfectant. The voice sounded furious, full of rage and hatred, and starving for misery and despair.
"Do you really think you can run away from me?"
Desperately, he surveyed the room, looking everywhere to confirm that this in fact was a nightmare and not reality; that he had somehow fallen back to sleep, but no. He could hear the machines around him, the sun glazed through the window and a gentle breeze caressed the trees outside. This was no dream. This was reality. And it was talking to him, just like when he had tried to kill Asuka. It wasn't coming for him in his sleep, it was attacking him from every angle, just like before. Just like that time when he had been all alone in that world of red. Just like that time when the voice had kept him alive for who knows how long until she came back and everyone else started coming back. It was whispering to him, telling him what to do, leaving him to be nothing else but a doll, nothing less than a monster.
Shinji glanced left and right, looking for any way to escape, looking for the door, but it blurred under the stress. He started hyperventilating, feeling as though the world itself was folding in around him, enclosing him in despair.
"I see you…" Vicious, the voice whispered against his ear. He could almost feel the hot rancid breath over his ear, glaring at him with crimson hatred, and for a moment Shinji felt his very reason inch away from him, just like that time in the Entry Plug when he had killed everyone, and just like that time on the beach when he had tried to kill Asuka again. So he bit his lip as hard as he could.
"You can't control me," Shinji whispered back, anger fueling his voice. He felt the beast smile from inside of him.
"You can't win… I am your guilt, boy…" Shinji's nostrils flared in hatred. He was just so fucking sick of it, sick of being afraid. Guilt? He had felt guilty ever since that bastard had left him at that train station so long ago. He sure as hell did not need a fucking zombie to remind him to feel miserable with every breath he took. There was no need for that, he already knew, and he already suffered for it every day.
"I'll be waiting… you can't win…"
"I will." Slowly, the world unfolded itself. If he lost his mind, he'd be running away again. Just running away like a pathetic brat, attempting to escape from a reality much too hard to bear, letting insanity wash away his sins. No, no, that would simply not do. He had made a promise.
Shinji fell on his bed a tad heavier than he intended to, hissing yet again as his wounds complained rather loudly at his boldness and stupidity before receding once again. He had done it; he had managed to push that thing deep inside the darkest part of him for the time being, but the monster's visit was like a cold splash of reality on his face. Even though it felt as if some of the weight had dropped off his shoulders, the fact remained, his actions remained. He could never be with Asuka the way he wished to be, never that close. She hated him too much, after all, and not without reason. For a few moments the day before, however, a glimpse of something different, a less chaotic future of sorts had been opened to him; some world where he could be with her, love and cherish her instead of hurting and clawing at her. His mere presence seemed to inflict agony on Asuka, yet perhaps that could also change.
But he was still the one person who, in a moment of insanity and absolute weakness had embraced Lilith's desire and wiped all human life from the planet in a single fluid motion. Those things he knew and they would stay with him for as long as he lived.
Shinji looked down as his arm, noticing for once the lack of a cast on him. Perplexed with such a new discovery and rather flabbergasted for not noticing it before, he flexed his arm, feeling his joints crack from disuse, but otherwise feeling no pain. It brought a slight joy to his chest, and feeling somewhat calm after his initial shock his mind seemed to be fit enough to work normally again. He lay there for a while, just thinking of things to do in order to better himself, things to do to somehow amend for some of his wrongdoings. While meditating and slowly breathing, he noticed a shadow that seemed all too familiar coming from behind his nightstand. Intrigued, he slowly walked to where the case looking thing projected the shadow.
What he found left the former Third Child dumbfounded. There was a cello case resting behind his bed, hidden so meticulously that the only way it was noticeable at all was because of the shadow it produced when he turned on his nightlight. Retrieving the cello case, he opened it and had to blink heavily and fight the urge to scream at the heavens for their moment of mercy and compassion. A Stradivarius was sitting on his hospital floor.
He could smell the vintage wood; the intoxicating aroma of maple and willow as they mingled with the spruce drove his brain to musical heaven. His fingers shakily threaded over the strings, the calluses on his hands were soothed by the texture of the wood as he lifted the cello from its case and for a long time he did nothing but stare at it, mesmerized by the exquisite detail engraved on the marvelous instrument as it shone under the faint light of midday. Knowing fully that an attempt to play in his current state was an idiocy raging on the absurd, considering the limited mobility of his arm or the delicate state of his muscle tissue, Shinji decided to simply stare at the cello, before wondering out loud.
"How in the hell did this thing get here?"
His question would go unsolved, but he noticed a small piece of paper clinging to the back of the case. It seemed printed, so he could not discern any handwriting he knew, and it seemed easy enough to read. The kanji was standardized and to his eyes the message appeared to be quite amiable. The text read:
-"Heard you were a magnificent musician. Here's a token of my appreciation, from one artist to another."-
Appreciation for what, Shinji did not know, but he most definitely wasn't going to complain about being gifted a brand new Stradivarius. Smiling once again and feeling the hopelessness of his latest episode dissolve under the sun, he tucked the cello back in its case before sinking at last onto his bed, which for once felt quite comfortable.
"…so, uhhh… We're really sorry about what happened last time, and, umm… Kensuke?"
"Yeah… yeah, it, kinda escalated out of control, umm…. We promise to behave now, but please… just let us see him out, we're his best friends!"
"Yeah! Umm… we'll behave, you'll see! If you just give us a chance to…"
The rest of the annoying banter was promptly ignored by the brilliant scientist's mind as a simple matter of keeping whatever sanity she had managed to hold steady over the past eight months so as not to be charged with yet another child's suffering. How these brats had managed to come to her office and pester her with their presence was still a mystery to the fake blonde, but she'd find out. Oh yes she would, and then she'd skin Misato alive and feed her remains to her cats. Or she could very well design a car accident for her, that way the annoying toaster she called a car would be gone as well. Oh yes…
While violent scenarios of bloody retribution unfolded one after the other inside the Commander's brain, her eyes remained boringly fixated on the brats in front of her who, to her utmost distaste, were still talking.
"… So really, Commander, it's all a matter of perspective. Given the attenuating circumstances under which the encounter took place, I would deduce that it was mere chance, more than anything what's at fault for our current predicament."
Kensuke's attempt to use articulated language was duly noted by Ritsuko's brain, making her sigh in despair. If this indeed was the punishment she deserved for her share of sins and disgusting actions, then it wasn't all that bad, she supposed.
"Besides, someone as beautiful and young as yourself shouldn't have to worry about these things…"
This coming from the boy she had recruited to have his arm and leg amputated. No, really, she was in Hell.
"All right." That alone seemed to calm the blubbering teens, who straightened in their chairs and waiting for her command. There was a headache threatening to crack her skull open at a moment's notice, should she be forced to listen to more of their nonsense. They were quiet, sitting straight and trying their best not to sweat. Even while Ritsuko failed to exude that dark energy the former Commander seemed to pulse from behind his imposing desk, she was still very much intimidating. Also, the vein popping out of her forehead seemed to drive the message quite clearly.
"Now listen to me, brats." Taking a deep breath to calm her aching nerves, the Commander dictated her sentence. "The last time you went to see Shinji you almost caused a severe complication which ended in him nearly choking on his own air thanks to your childish antics and immature behavior, and don't even think about opening that trap, mister Suzuhara, or I'll make you wish you never got that leg back," Ritsuko almost growled. Touji, who had for a second thought of giving her a piece of his mind regarding the redhead, wisely locked his vocal chords in time.
"The only reason I'm going to allow you clowns to go check on your buddy is because the mere thought of having to listen to you for another minute is equal to me being charged with double homicide. Oh, and if you decide to upset my patient again, I swear on my mother's grave I'm going to have you both neutered. Without anesthetic."
The boys gulped and hissed, closing their legs in defense, but soon enough the message drove into their heads, making smiles draw themselves on their faces.
"You mean we can go see him!" screamed both teenagers at once, making the scientist wince and loose her temper.
"YES!" she roared, slamming her fists on the quite expensive desk and standing up dangerously from her quite expensive and quite comfortable chair. She noticed with delicious pleasure the way the brats jolted at her outburst and drove back to their seats. "Now get the hell out of my office!"
The teens clambered to their feet, hurriedly stumbling over each other before running to the door. They had almost made it to the door handle when Ritsuko's roar paralyzed them yet again.
"Wait!" she ordered. Both Touji and Kensuke gulped, not daring to face the fearsome Commander. "Turn around." They did, shaking miserably. Ritsuko lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her ample chest before asking, "Who let you into my office, brats?"
The teens looked at each other with confusion, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Miss Misato did," they answered in unison.
God, that just freaked her out. Sometimes those brats acted like Asuka and Shinji. She resisted the urge to shudder at the mere image the idea brought to her brilliant brain.
"Yes, Misato… of course she did," she angrily growled. "You should have left two seconds ago."
Both Touji and Kensuke jolted yet again, opening the door hastily and scrambling in a crazy dash to the Infirmary. As soon as the door closed, Ritsuko fell back into her seat, opening the left bottom drawer and extracting a bottle of something green and shiny; clearly a beverage not made for weaklings. The design on the bottle was exquisite, golden traces closed all over it, mixing with each other in adorable little golden circles and making suggestive forms all over the bottle. The message on its front was clear enough for anyone to see.
-Absinthe-
Amsterdam's finest
Resisting the urge to cackle madly, she removed the cap, allowing the aroma of the beverage to simmer though the office before taking a long swig of the drink. Her cheeks reddening, Ritsuko took a half-finished bottle of orange juice from the same drawer and poured a healthy portion of the green liquid into the bottle, mixing them together and making a delicious looking juice mix. The Commander then pressed the button to call her assistant and not two seconds later a petite young brunette woman walked through the door, wearing a friendly smile on her face.
"Can I help you, Commander?"
"Yes, actually," answered Ritsuko, waving the bottle in her hand. "Give this to the chefs over at the cafeteria and tell them to make sure the Sub-Commander drinks this with her lunch. Make up some bullshit excuse that it's a protein shake or the like, just make sure she drinks this entire bottle."
Her assistant seemed perplexed for a moment before she noticed the playful glimpse in the Commander's expression, so she decided to play along.
"Yes, Madam!" Quickly, the assistant grabbed the greenish looking beverage and headed for the cafeteria.
"Oh," said Ritsuko before she left. "And clean up all of her appointments for the rest of the evening." The assistant saluted stiffly, bowed, and retired to her work. Yes, her master plan was finally coming to fruition. At last, some retribution would be delivered.
"I'll teach you to mess with me, Katsuragi. Let's see how you like going on an Absinthe trip in front of all your staff, and in my building." She giggled evilly, remembering the presence of numerous cameras all around the Geo-Front. That alone meant tons and tons of blackmail material she could have at any moment's notice.
Despite everything, this seemed like a very good day.
On the far side of the city, Asuka stirred the mixes into the sauce while humming quietly to herself. This was her first time making lasagna, so it was of the utmost importance that she paid close attention to the smell, flavor and texture of the sauce. She had opted for an easy enough white chicken lasagna, knowing well that an attempt at something more complicated would result in a mess of inhuman proportions, so she decided to stick to the instructions in the cooking book.
Even so, the stack of dirty dishes seemed to somehow keep growing until the small mountain of culinary debris was too big to ignore. The first two attempts had ended in disaster, with one batch of sauce being too salty and overly seasoned, and the second burnt to a blackened mess. Huffing in exasperation, Asuka started pouring the sauce on the pasta, being quite generous with the cheese before placing the tray in the oven.
Third time's the charm.
Satisfied, the redhead wiped off some sweat that had accumulated on her brow, sighing contently at her handiwork. The house was still relatively clean so there was no need to clean too much, perhaps only dusting Shinji's room for a bit.
The apartment occupied only her at the moment, so after she was done Asuka sat on the living room's comfortable couch, taking a while to think about what exactly she was doing. Never before had she cleaned or cooked for someone else. The few times when she had been forced by Misato to do some of Shinji's work, she'd done a half-assed attempt at it before resigning and letting him deal with it. Never before had she prepared a meal for someone else; a meal only for him.
It felt weird; not necessarily bad or good, it simply felt strange to do things for someone else besides herself. For more than eight years it had been her way of survival, her escape from pain, to rely on and care only for herself. But slowly, gently, diligently, Shinji had managed to unlock the door to her heart and find a place in it. She could not help but feel slightly excited and more that a bit nervous at the idea of having Shinji back in the house. That had been what she believed to be the longest month in her entire life, including the time she had spent in Instrumentality and the months following her mother's passing.
She felt numb. Not exactly bad, simply numb; sort of disconnected from the world, just going by mere instinct, moving mechanically along to do what she was supposed to do. She was making this meal because she was supposed to, like when she piloted EVA. She was supposed to be a pilot, to be the best, so she had made the attempt and failed miserably. She was supposed to hate Shinji, to loathe the very thought of him; she was supposed to despise his presence, yet she could not even bring herself to do that right either.
Somewhere deep in her mind, Asuka wondered what had happened the night before, how she had managed to feel so comfortable, so relaxed and warm and simply happy by merely sitting with Shinji and Misato and watching TV for a while. She had felt at home, somehow the past and all the bullshit in between them had seemed meaningless in comparison to sharing with someone who cared for her.
Yet happiness was elusive and momentary. There, sitting on the couch with nothing to do, nothing to occupy her mind with, she once again fell victim to a mass of tangled feelings and confusing desires. Everything that made her who she was wanted nothing more than to just run away, to leave the idiot and the drunken bitch behind and move on with her life, to forget about the hell that place meant and escape somewhere safe.
The other side of her had no idea what to do. How do you make it up to someone after you rape them? Is that even possible? How do you apologize after torturing someone? 'I'm sorry', that's it? Should she slice open her stomach with a sword in a more traditionally Japanese effort? Would that suffice? What a joke, not a single thing felt sufficient; it made her heart ache and hurt and wince in agony. If she could only detach herself from everything, from the guilt and the pain and the hate, if she could only do it all over again.
The former Second Child sat there in complete and utter silence, barely blinking. How ironic; how many times had she found Shinji in this exact same position? How many times had she forced herself to hurt him just to ensure he would not fade away or die on her and leave her all alone? How ironic, to be complete and totally in someone else's skin. Her mind wandered over to those memories, to the images of him sitting, his eyes glazed while horrific memories ate away at whatever sanity he had left.
This is how he felt… every day. Like the weight of the world's pain is on your shoulders, like everything you do and everything you don't do hurts the people you care about. Like your very presence is poison to your loved ones.
She herself had not cared for anyone until Shinji came around and Misato did her own effort to care for them. Those two had been the first people to worm their way into her heart, and all she had done so far was push them away from her, maybe even to protect them from the venom her presence represented.
She sighed, idly running her hand over her throat, touching the imperceptible marks Shinji's nails had left when they had dug into her flesh. She had scarcely asked him why he had tried to kill her twice; she had never even asked him how long he had strayed alone in the broken city, surviving on his own. She had never properly asked him why he had killed everyone, just to bring them back; not without trying to hurt him. She had not asked those questions because she feared the answers. She feared to know she deserved to be choked to death, she feared to know what horrors, what impossible nightmares he had endured during his time alone.
Liar, her mind whispered, full of self-disgust. You asked him, and when he couldn't answer you got scared. When he tried to strangle you again you ran away, you cowardly bitch. Why don't you just go and get him something like all those other times, you filthy hypocrite?
She hoped Shinji would not misunderstand. Months before, after some of the times she 'crossed the line' when abusing or hitting him, she would try to make up for it by getting him a new shirt, or buying some random cake she knew he loved and leaving it in the kitchen, or cleaning the wounds she had inflicted to keep them from getting infected, or even going into his room at night, desperately trying to ignore his trembling and holding him for a while, just for a while.
The day after breaking his fingers she had gotten his favorite brand and flavor of ice cream, poured a healthy portion in a cup and left it outside his bedroom; she had gotten him two new cassettes and a cookbook, as well. The pathetic, ill-advised efforts felt even more meaningless than ever; the words never seemed to escape her lips, the 'I'm sorry' so firmly set in her chest would never find its way to Shinji's ears, and sooner than she realized she'd be back to hitting and screaming, back to clawing at his soul with every weapon she had.
His eyes always looked so dead, so alike that time when she had woken up after he had tried to choke her on the beach. Asuka remembered his eyes quite clearly; they had been the first clear thing she had been able to distinguish after recovering some of her senses. It still sent chills down her spine, the hollow, empty pools that had stared at her from the other side of the fire, offering her a bowl of noodles.
A sudden -beep- brought Asuka back to reality, meaning the cake she was baking was finished. Slowly, so as to not make a single unnecessary sound, she walked over to the oven and removed the chocolate cake she had prepared. It looked delicious and smelled like heaven, but she could not have a bite of it just yet. Checking the clock, she noticed she still had about two or three hours to finish everything she needed to do, clean herself up, and go pick Shinji up from the hospital with Misato.
It seemed somehow strange, the concept of having Shinji back in the small house they called home. For about a month now he had been retained inside a hospital room. Because of her, Shinji had almost died, and would have to carry those two huge scars on his chest. Because of her, Shinji had almost gone insane. Because of her, Shinji would live the rest of his life with some caution regarding his left side, because there was the possibility of him still having some shards of bone clinging to his tissue.
Asuka bit her lip, trying as hard as she could not to cry. God, was she fucked up. Everything was just so fucked up, why couldn't things be easy like before?
It's not like it was any better before, but at least I didn't have to feel so guilty all the time….
Didn't she? Did she not feel like a complete bitch every time she ridiculed Shinji in front of everyone in class, watching him squirm and noticing the very clear pain she inflicted behind those big blue eyes of his? Did she not feel guilty every time she saw him so miserable for reasons alien to her, which then made her so infuriated that she screamed at him to get that miserable expression off his face, only to make it worse? Had she not felt jealous and possessive when she noticed him speaking with Rei and not her?
It took several minutes, but soon enough she got fed up with feeling sorry for herself. She had decided to face the repercussions of her actions, whatever they were. As she covered the cake with a generous amount of chocolate dressing, Asuka wondered what would happen when Shinji came back home. She hoped he would not get vindictive with her, even though she deserved it. She was scared of that side of him, very scared. Terrified, really. Shinji was frightening when he was angry.
"Hmm… just a bit more…" Carefully distributing the chocolate all over the cake, she stuck her tongue out in concentration, slowly making lines and waves with the dressing. After about five minutes she was done with the cake, and boy was she proud of herself. Asuka had always prided herself on her ability to do anything she put her mind towards; her gifted brain allowed Asuka to understand concepts and solve problems faster than the average person, the only problem was that this ability limited itself to practical matters. She had the maturity and intelligence of a newborn infant when it came to matters of the heart.
Satisfied with her cake, she stored it in the oven to make sure no retired -or not retired- hungry Sub-Commander would want to get cute with Shinji's welcoming present. She had thought of buying him something, but knowing him as well as she did Asuka knew that what he wanted was way too expensive for her at the moment, so she'd go with the next best thing. A home-made meal, prepared especially for him.
The lasagna needed nothing more than to get put in the oven. The cake was done, the house was clean, and the dishes were washed. There was nothing more for her to do, nothing more to focus on or bother with. There wasn't even any laundry to do, and she had been so obsessed with preparing everything that she had not even thought about taking a bath or a break herself; she was after all very tired and very sweaty.
Taking the apron off, Asuka headed for the bathroom, a mixture of what shampoo, conditioner and lotion to use for the day already forming in her mind. Shinji liked fruits, fruity smells, fresh smells. To the untrained eye it would seem as though she was making all the arrangements for Shinji in an effort to correct her wrongdoings, and it was partially true. She was indeed attempting to do something for him, yet the truth was that doing all the chores, cooking and cleaning or otherwise busying herself with mundane tasks managed to get her mind off all the horrible things she had both experienced and perpetrated.
With a tired sigh, Asuka headed for her bedroom to retrieve the necessary items for her bath. The redhead chose a simple outfit; just a pink T-shirt and some shorts, nothing too fancy, just the normal outfit for being at home. She had no intention of going out somewhere else anyway; the shorts would do just fine.
Ever since emerging after Third Impact, bathing was something she both adored and dreaded. There was nothing to compare with the feeling of hot water running all over her body, but taking a bath meant having to gaze at the scars of her final battle. Those scars, those memories overpowered the present; those flashbacks were so vivid sometimes that she screamed when she remembered the pain of the Lance as it stuck her eye. The scars had faded with time, leaving nothing but faint lines behind, but the memories were always fresh and raw.
Asuka opened the door to the small bathroom, trying not to flinch at the memory of Shinji just sitting there, completely naked, with the freezing water all around him and the knife resting against the tub's side. She undressed, minding to place the dirty laundry in its rightful place and being careful not to gaze at her figure in the mirror. As she took her bra off, her fingers danced across one of the scars on her back; one that was almost imperceptible, but to her it stood out completely as a reminder of her failure, a reminder of Shinji's betrayal, forever imprinted on her flesh.
After running the water Asuka slowly sat in the tub, minding to wash every part of her body with soap and extensively caring for her hair. Her hands moved on their own, rinsing every last part, every scar with cautious detail, cleaning every inch of her creamy skin. She took long baths; she had always taken her time to make sure she looked her best, but ever since the Fifteenth Angel, Asuka remained for at least an hour in the bathroom, trying in vain to clean off the dirt in her own soul.
More than half an hour went by and, once satisfied with the bath, Asuka went about dressing appropriately for the occasion. She still had her pride which did not, under any circumstance, allowed her to dress too formally or even look too well groomed, since that would imply certain things she was still unsure about, so the redhead opted for a regular home-like attire, taking one of her favorite pink T-shirts (one Shinji had found for her during their week alone) with a big bear on it that said 'Hands Off, Private Property' and a fitted pair of jean shorts. She combed her long hair for the accustomed fifteen minutes, making sure to untangle any knots before styling the golden red locks in her usual manner.
Emerging from the bedroom that seemed all too alien to her yet remained her own, Asuka took a long breath to calm down the itching nerves that consumed her senses; it was out of mere self-control that she managed not to bite her nails. The night before everything had been so perfect, so truthful that it seemed somehow still impossible in the redhead's mind, but the crushing anxiety and the mixed up feelings threatened to drive her mad again. On one hand there was the possibility of actually being close to Shinji and Misato, the possibility of leaving the past eight months behind and pretend nothing had ever happened, yet she knew that attempting to live a life based on a lie was a dead end. She had experienced it firsthand.
There was still so much she needed to ask, so much anger she desperately hoped to get off her chest, but now there was fear. Asuka feared her own temper; she had developed a tendency to escalate things to a physical level ninety-eight percent of the time ever since Third Impact, and she was still unsure of her ability to hold her violent outbursts. She never had been able to before.
With little left to do for her but wait for Misato and Shinji, Asuka sat on the couch and remembered. She remembered all the things which she had attempted to hide from ever since she was seven years old. Taking a deep breath, Asuka simply stared at the wall, trying to figure out exactly when she had started losing control, or if she ever even had control to begin with.
Touji, Kensuke and Shinji were sitting quietly in the small room; there was little they could say to each other after what had happened last time. When they had fought each other. For the first time ever.
Shinji's eyes were downcast, staring stoically at his left arm, not bothering to look at any of them in the eye; this time it was not out of shame or fear, but anger. He really cared very little for what people thought of him anymore; one could not go through Instrumentality and not learn something substantial and life-defining. He could no longer value himself depending on the perception others had of him. It was too tiring to try to be someone he was not. He had come to terms with his actions long ago, and it didn't bother him at all to be punished, least of all by the person who deserved to unleash her anger on him the most.
Touji sat in the armchair Misato normally used, waiting impatiently for someone to say something, anything at all. He had always been upset by uncomfortable silences, like those during the times Hikari had come to visit him. The biggest of the three had never been good with words, but he knew they had crossed an invisible yet well-established line of respect when he had insulted Asuka the way he had. Within their small group that had always been a rule; healthy jokes could be exchanged from time to time, but nothing that openly degraded the redheaded devil.
Touji knew he was right; he knew too damn well what that bitch wanted from his friend, and it just made him sick to watch his best friend, the reason for him being alive and with his family, struggle every day to even lift his scrawny ass from bed because of her. Touji didn't blame him, who'd want to get up if that meant putting up with a crazy harpy?
Kensuke frowned at the white walls. His train of thought was fairly similar to Touji's, the only difference was that he believed something darker, sicker was going on, but kept his mouth shut out of respect for Shinji's current predicament. They had all kept quiet during the past months, but putting Shinji in a hospital was unacceptable.
"I'm not going to apologize," stated Touji simply, earning a raised eyebrow from Kensuke and a heated glare from Shinji. He returned the glare with equal passion. "I'm not. You can't ask me to be okay with this."
Shinji's glare receded as he sighed and again opted to stare at his arm, not really knowing how to respond. Touji sighed in dejection while Kensuke remained quiet. Of the two of them, Touji probably hated Asuka the most, but Kensuke tended to be more eloquent regarding his dislike for the redhead, so it came as a surprise to the bigger boy that Kensuke had not yet spoken a word, the bespectacled youth was much better at explaining his emotion than him, after all.
Rapidly growing impatient and bored, Kensuke decided to get his facts completely straight before passing judgment and upsetting Shinji yet again. The smaller boy adjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath.
"Look man, you said we didn't understand, and we don't. We don't even know half the things that went on during the fights with the Angels, and we sure as hell have no idea what went through during Third Impact and we're not gonna force you to tell us until you're ready, but we're your friends. And you can't ask your friends to sit around and do nothing when someone's hurting you for no reason."
Taking yet another deep breath, Kensuke observed Shinji's stoic figure in a vain attempt to catch his eyes. Experience and months of hanging out with the former pilot had allowed him to understand his eyes always told exactly what he was feeling.
Shinji himself tried to decide what to tell them and what to keep a secret so they would at least understand where he was coming from. The words piled up like bile in his throat, threatening to spill out the poison that for so long had been consuming him. He had never admitted these things to anyone but Asuka herself, and for good reason. He was afraid of losing his friends once they knew exactly what he had done. They were so worried about him that they were willing to face Asuka and Misato; they deserved to know the truth even when it cost him their friendship.
"Come on, man…" begged Touji, standing from the chair and drawing closer to Shinji's bed. "You said we don't understand, so make us understand."
Shinji sighed again, feeling his shoulders slacken in defeat. He could just not get a break anywhere and for any reason, but such was the way his life had developed in recent years. Running away was always an option; he had after all been running away from his own actions for eight months. Asuka's constant abuse was by far the most efficient way of running away from everything; by being punished Shinji could escape from himself. By drowning himself in guilt he could evade his past actions and pretend he was paying for it. Being miserable was, after all, easier than being righteous.
"Okay…" Shinji whispered almost imperceptibly. He sagged into his bed, trying to understand why he could never have so much as a day's rest. The boy lifted his gaze to his friends, showing them the haunted look that had for so long accompanied his face.
"Maybe you guys think Asuka's just trying to vent her anger on me or something, but that's not it. I wish… I wish it were that simple." Touji's eyebrow twitched; there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that meant whatever Shinji had to tell them would forever their perception of him. He didn't want that to happen.
"It started back when we were fighting the Angels; everything started to go to hell between us after the Fifteenth, the Angel from space that attacked Asuka's mind. That thing tortured her; it took her all the things she had tried to forget, all her insecurities, her traumas, and threw them in her face. It destroyed her, you know. And I… I didn´t do a thing to help her."
Kensuke himself took a moment to rationalize what was happening. For the first time ever, Shinji was telling them about his experiences during the Angel Wars. It was something of a rule in their small circle that such topics were better left untouched. Both he and Touji knew quite well how hard and painful it had been for Shinji to pilot, much moreso to talk about it. Shinji took yet another slow, calming breath, feeling the usual discomfort in his ribcage.
"I guess I didn't know how to approach her, how to help her. I felt so useless. She cried and screamed and threw tantrums and tried so hard in the middle of it all to tell me she needed someone to be there for her, and I didn't listen. I was so confused about it back then, everything was so wrong and strange that it felt like it was happening to someone else. I felt so disconnected to everyone, to everything. When she cried herself to sleep I just turned the volume up on my SDAT and tried to drown her out. Before I knew it the Angels were dead, Rei was dead and had somehow come back to life, I realized she was my sister and-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up for a second there," interrupted Touji, looking flabbergasted. "Rei was your what?"
"My sister, or half sister, I don´t really know. She was a clone of my mother. " Both boys looked at each other, exchanging confused glances back and forth before simply choosing to stare questioningly at their mutual friend.
"O-kay…" they replied in unison. Shinji looked sheepish before the ghost of sadness assaulted him. It was still very hard to think of Rei and his feelings towards her, it brought up too many painful questions he still had not yet deciphered.
"Umm… look, guys, I don't really want to talk about that, so I'll just tell you what I did, okay?" When both his friends nodded, Shinji braced himself for what he was about to say. His greatest shame, his most sickening sins were about to be revealed. Never before had he openly admitted them to anyone, not even her.
"Before the soldiers attacked us I went to visit Asuka. She had gone missing for a week. I looked for her, I really did but I couldn't find her anywhere and… and when I did find her, I couldn't… I couldn't do a thing. She was just lying there, starving herself, not caring for anything. I… I called Section Two from a public phone, I even tried to fake some voice because… I was afraid."
Both his friends remained respectfully silent, attempting to absorb the information. Perhaps they had been too quick in their judgment of Asuka's actions, but there was still no substantial reason for the state she had left Shinji in. Sure, he had been a coward, but who really knew how to deal with Asuka? Not even Hikari had managed to understand or support her during her breakdown; the girl was simply impossible, there was no reasoning with her. Could it be that she had perhaps gotten into an argument with Shinji, the boy had responded and she had not managed to control her temper?
"She fell into a coma then, and everything kinda happened all at once. Misato went off to her own world of revenge, Asuka gave up and I just… I didn't know what to do, where to go. I wasn't even sure if I was still alive, because everything felt so distant."
Shinji took another small break, feeling his side complain. He slowly inhaled some air before calmly releasing it through his nostrils, and for a moment he felt relaxed. Touji and Kensuke stared at Shinji in wonder, still waiting for something substantial in the facts that could somehow explain Asuka's attitude.
"I didn't come to visit her until after a week, and the time I did, it just… I…" The words were in the back of his throat, but they threatened to choke him with the awful taste of shame. If he admitted his sick, disgusting sin to the only friends he still had they would surely abandon him too, and with good reason, yet there was nothing else he could do; there was nowhere to run away to anymore. Tears burned his eyes as the memories flooded once again, painting the scenery with sickening detail in his head. He tried lowering his gaze so they wouldn't notice the tears, but it was a futile attempt.
Both boys became alarmed when they noticed their friend's shoulders sag and his body tremble. Red lights lit up in their heads when they remembered Ritsuko's quite graphic threats of anesthetized castration, and in a moment both boys were at Shinji's side.
"Dude, are you ok? You don't have to keep going if you don't want to," said Kensuke in fear, rushing over to Shinji's side.
"Yeah, get some rest, Shinji. You don't need to stress yourself." Touji placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling it shake with Shinji's silent, barely restrained sobs.
Shinji sniffed a few times in an attempt to compose himself and carry on, his healing wounds for once in a week were not at fault of pushing him down, they kept themselves in their quiet healing process. No, this time he was being stopped by the immense shame that threatened to break him in two.
"I'm fine, guys, I'm fine. It's just, this is… this is really hard to say…" Both his friends relaxed when they saw it was just a bit too much emotion instead of some life-threatening complication that had Shinji in such a state. Touji, for the life of him, could not comprehend what exactly it was that Shinji wanted to tell them, but he was getting impatient. None of the things he had said so far were in any way something substantially
"The day I went to visit her was the day the JSSDF attacked, but I didn't know any of that. Seeing Asuka like that, it tore me apart. She was laying there, not doing anything; she wasn't screaming at me, or screaming at Misato or even fighting for her life, she was just waiting to die. She gave up; gave up and left me alone to deal with all that crap. I hated her so much, I wanted her to help me, even if it was just to insult me; anything was better. I felt she had abandoned me, like everyone else…"
Touji clenched his right fist in an effort to calm himself down as Shinji paused. Had he not been such a useless pilot, he could have been there for his friend, if only to support him. The larger boy looked down at the chair he sat on, thinking of his sister and of the sacrifices Shinji had had to suffer so she could be alive and with him that day. Shinji had saved his family and he had done nothing for him. Asuka had been doing God knows what things to him and he had done nothing. His train of thought was interrupted when Shinji spoke the words that would later on determine their friendship.
"I tried waking her up, I shook her, talked to her, begged for her help but she just lay there. I hated her, but she was the one person I actually felt connected to, so I pulled on her arm and… and… her gown unbuttoned."
Kensuke felt a cold, chilling sensation run all the way from the back of his head to the end of his back. Suddenly he didn't want to know; suddenly there was a feeling of sickness, disease in the air that warned him not to listen, but he was unable to do a thing. He had to know so he could at least hate Asuka with good reason.
"I should've covered her back up, I should've held her hand until she woke up, I should've stayed by her side so I could protect her. But I… I was so sick of being used, I was so tired of her, of everything, so I thought 'if you're going to give up, then me too'. And I did, so I jerked off."
Both boys felt like a bucket of cold water had been splashed straight on their faces. The words were for a while simply incomprehensible in their brains.
"What?" they asked in unison.
"What I just said. The army was coming, I should have protected her. She was helpless for once, ever since I knew her, she was helpless, she needed me and I fucking masturbated to the sight of her breasts." Shinji's voice was filled with so much disgust that it seemed as though he had just spat the last phrase. Then there was silence.
For about a solid minute none of them said a word, not so much as the utterance of a sound, but before Touji or Kensuke could even compose themselves, Shinji continued, to their utter dismay. They didn't want to listen to him anymore, they didn't want to know; nevertheless, they remained quiet when Shinji carried on and poison and disgust beyond their comprehension or wildest dreams started to leak into his normally calm voice.
"I did, and after I was done I felt so fucking sick with myself that I looked for some place in NERV, some hideout for a disgusting rat like me, and I sat down there to rot. Everything stopped being important at that moment; I was praying for someone to come along and blow my brains out so that I didn't have to think anymore. I wanted to just to run away forever and disappear. I swear to you, when I felt the barrel of the gun on my head, I thanked God for it. But Misato saved me, and dragged my ass to the cages so I could help Asuka. She was awake, and she was fighting nine Evangelions on her own. Misato got me to the cages and got shot in the process, so she pushed me into the elevator and disappeared. She tried to move whatever I had left inside, but when I got to the cages, Unit 01… it was covered in Bakelite. Everywhere I looked, there was Bakelite blocking every way. So I gave up; I sat there, facing Unit 01 and waiting to die."
Shinji clutched his bed sheet with vigor, locking eyes with his friends, giving an ample visage of the rage he felt. Rage, shame, and endless self-hatred glared at their eyes.
"Asuka was fighting so hard, I could hear when she was winning and listened when she started to lose. I heard her scream out in pain… so much pain. She was screaming so loud, she was waiting for me, waiting for the Invincible Shinji to come help her for once, and you know what I did?"
Both boys backed up as Shinji's glare became hellish and he yelled.
"Nothing! I sat on my ass and let those…those fucking monsters eat her. They… they ate her, they fucking ate her alive! I could hear it, every second of it! I could've done something! If I had asked Unit 01 to move in that moment it would have but I didn't! That thing, Unit 01, mother… she waited until Asuka was… beaten, she wanted me to see it… and I did nothing. I sat there like a coward and let her die! I could've done something! I could have saved her, I could have prevented Third Impact! But I let it happen, I… abandoned her…"
Tears broke at last; sobs shook his entire body as the memories flooded through him yet again. Tremors wracked his lean figure while his friends tried to digest all the horrible information that had just been dropped onto their unprepared minds.
"So there, that's why she hates me so much. She has every reason to; I let her die, I defiled her. If you ask me, beating me to within an inch of my life is only a small part of what I deserve. She's not even aware of what she's doing half the time. Go and... (cough)... go and get eaten alive and torn to pieces and tell me... tell me if it won't change you."
After eight months of suffering from hellish mental breakdown after breakdown, Shinji had somehow managed to learn how to control himself. He took slow, long breaths to steady himself while trying to contain the fresh flow of tears that normally accompanied his flashbacks; within a few seconds he was able to steady himself, but Shinji kept his head low and his mouth closed. He did not want to face his friends, or former friends to be exact. Perhaps they'd get bored and leave without him having to say it, perhaps they'd be so sickened by his presence that any moment both of them would get up and leave-
He was shocked out of his musings when a pair of strong hands gripped both his arms, making him turn and look into Touji's face; the boy stared at him with no emotion whatsoever, his expression was neutral, almost relaxed. Shinji was about to ask him what was wrong when the other boy embraced him, minding not to press against his ribs or hug him too strongly. Shinji was paralyzed, unable to understand what was going on; he was expecting insults, maybe even a punch or two, but a hug?
"Umm, I… don-"
"You've been carrying that weight for all this time. I'm sorry I didn't see it before, but we're here for you now, bro." Touji carefully patted him on the back before putting Shinji at arm's length and standing up from the boy's bed, showing him the smile he wore on his face. His smile got a tad bigger when he saw the petrified unbelieving look on Shinji's face.
Kensuke patted him on his right shoulder, also careful not to upset his injuries. "Look, dude. What you did was very messed up, but we're your friends, we're not gonna judge you like a couple of insensitive pricks. You've obviously been through some hard shit that neither me or this guy can even hope to imagine, even though if someday you decided to tell us about it too then that'd be okay, but I drift from my point. We're going to agree that what you did was low and very nasty, and also agree that even so beating you up like this is a tad extreme, but again I'm falling off the subject. What I'm trying to say is that we're here for you no matter what. We're your friends and we'll stick by you even if it means having to tolerate the poisonous presence of that egocentric, insufferable bi-"
WHACK
Touji glared at his bespectacled companion, smacking him on the head again for good measure. After he relaxed, he addressed their still frozen friend.
"What he's trying to say is that we kinda have some background on why she did what she did now. We haven't forgiven her, and probably ever won't, but we'll lay off her if you feel so strongly about it. Oh, he also means that if you ever feel you need to talk about this stuff with anyone, we're here for you, even if just as a couple of dumb listeners. Don't get me wrong, that was fucking sick man, and I'd clobber you if you weren't hurt already, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. "
Shinji kept staring at him as if he had grown another head, his brain struggling to comprehend that somehow his friends had not yet bailed out.
"Huh?"
"I said that was fucking sick! I mean, if you had done that to my sister I'd probably beat you up too, but not to this extent!"
"Umm. O...kay?"
"It's okay, Shin-man, we're still friends, the world hasn't blown up and the grim reaper is not on to get us, so chill already! Geez, it's good to know at least some of the facts now! I feel so much better knowing why I can and can't hate the Red De-" WHACK
"Will you shut the hell up?"
"Hey, what the hell! You've been talking like a cheap fortune cookie all this time and I can't speak my mind!"
"Not when what you're saying is stupid and insensitive!"
"Well, excu-se me, mister chivalry! When was the last time you even held a door open for Hikari, huh?"
"How is that even important right now? And I'll have you know I opened the door for her this morning!"
"Ohh, so that's where you were all night long! I can only assume her father and sisters are well aware of that, no?"
"Y-You know what? I'm done talking with this guy. See you, Shin-man, I´ll drop by your place tomorrow, maybe we can play some video games and stuff. Then we'll have a serious conversation about what you just told us, okay? Bye!"
Kensuke stared at Touji in disbelief as the larger boy gave him the finger and waved to Shinji. He was frozen in shock for a moment before remembering a crucial detail in the former interaction.
"Hey! I own the damn console, where the hell do you get off pretending you're gonna go to the Shin-man's house without me! Hey, don't walk away from me, come back here! You don't even know the way!"
The rest of the conversation quickly faded away down the seemingly endless halls of the Medical Ward as both boys strode further and further away. Shinji sat on his bed, wondering if this was yet another one of those drug-induced hallucinations or if he had finally gone completely crazy and was now living in a fantastical paradise world invented by his brain. To be absolutely certain he was not dreaming, Shinji pinched himself as hard as he could. When nothing happened, he released the breath he had been holding. He felt somewhat lighter; he had never shared that with anyone before, and to know he had the support of his friends, even when they too were sickened by his actions, was a relief like none other.
Despite all of it, Shinji felt somewhat sick. He felt sick because everyone seemed to be judging Asuka, when they really should be judging him, Asuka had not been the one to abandon the fort or to leave everyone to die. Eight months of psychological self-inflicted torture had taught him that, yet the people he knew seemed hell-bent on making him some kind of victim and picturing Asuka as some kind of monster. He was getting tired of it; if anyone was a monster, it was him. Asuka was just another person he had tainted with his decaying presence.
Happiness and peace tended to always escape from him, a fact he had learned to cope with throughout his entire life. It was almost as if being miserable was his natural state of being, yet in the midst of his misery, he felt compelled to go home and be with Asuka. She was, after all, the only person who had managed to get through him; she was the only one who truly knew him. She and Misato were the only family he had.
He was once again taken from his train of thought as the door opened, this time to reveal his guardian and her somewhat not so nice friend, Commander Akagi. They seemed to be arguing about something, since for the first time since he had been admitted into the hospital Misato did not bother to stop her discussion to greet him or even wave at him. Shinji supposed something bad had happened.
"I cannot believe you almost forced me to drink Absinthe! Don't you know I'm trying to cut off my drinking?"
"Oh, and you can only presume I have the time and patience to be dealing with prepubescent attitudes and childish crap, right?"
"Oh, come on, Ritz! They were driving me mad, I needed something so they'd leave me alone!"
"And sending them into my office was your big idea? Those idiots made me waste almost an hour of my time on their crap!"
Misato surrendered, quickly growing tired of the conversation, turning to glance at Shinji for the first time since she entered the room. The ever-attractive woman smiled sheepishly, her cheeks turning a tad crimson in embarrassment. Soon after she came to her senses and approached Shinji's bed, a satisfied smile drawn on her face.
"Hey, Shinji-kun. How are you feeling? Ready to go home?" she asked as she patted him on the head and ruffled his brown locks playfully.
"Y-yeah. I'm ready to go home." Shinji returned the smile, albeit a bit forcefully, yet the emotion within it was real. His eyes narrowed for a moment when he locked gazes with Ritsuko, who simply looked down to the pad in her hand and wrote some notes. After she was done the doctor took a glance at Shinji's body and wrote some more before slamming the pencil on the chart and approaching his bed.
"Everything here seems to be in order, you're free to go, Shinji-kun. I'll arrange for someone to bring your clothes and you'll be all set. Now, remember to take the pills I prescribed and to have the serum administered twice every day. Well then, I think we're all s-... what's that case?"
Noticing the cello case for the first time, which lay on a corner of the room, Ritsuko's mind went on high alert in a second. That thing could be a bomb, or could have some sort of recording device in it.
"Oh, I found that behind my bed this morning," said Shinji. "I have no idea how it got here."
Misato too blinked and eyed the case suspiciously. Both women exchanged knowing glances and not a second afterwards Ritsuko yelled "Security!" Two men in black suits ran into the bedroom with their weapons drawn, ready to suppress any threat.
"Take this case over to the lab and have it analyzed for fingerprints," Ritsuko ordered. "Also, make sure that anything inside it is thoroughly checked. Look for audio and video transmitters as well."
The men took the case and ran off in a dash towards the laboratory, once again leaving the three of them in complete silence.
"Umm… what's going on? It's just a cello, you know, it had a card on it and everything. I think it's a gift." Shinji glanced over at both of them, noticing Misato fidget slightly and look and the ground, escaping his gaze.
Ritsuko took out her PDA, excusing herself over some kind of matter to be taken care of and also made her grand escape from the rapidly distressing situation. Shinji's eyes narrowed at the sight of Misato's expression and Ritsuko's retreat; there was clearly something they did not want him to know.
"I mean, I understand if no one knows where it came from and all that, but was all that really necessary?" Getting no response but a nervous laugh from Misato, Shinji's eyes narrowed further, he could feel the anger rising in him little by little. "Are you hiding something from me?"
Misato's eyes snapped open at this, finally turning to look at Shinji in the eye, and yes, she could tell he was growing upset. It was expected, after all, she had yet to give him a reason to trust her again, so perhaps it was time to start being honest. Misato stared deeply into his eyes, concern and honesty showing clearly in her eyes.
"Shinji, you and Asuka saved the world; that means you are both known figures. A lot of people all over the world know who you are and what you've both sacrificed for us, but not all those people are good willed or even agree with the world being restored. There's all kinds of religious fanatics that think this was the Apocalypse written in their holy books, the end of the world, and the simple fact that we're still alive is like an insult to their beliefs."
The woman sat on the chair she always occupied when visiting him and took his hand in her own. A warm feeling washed through Shinji's body, soothing the anger that had at first let itself be known inside his chest. He couldn't help it; he just hated being lied to.
"That means you're both targets for a lot of bad people, and it's my job to make sure you're both safe, okay? So don't worry, if the cello checks out okay then I'll have it brought home. If someone went through all the trouble to leave it here then you should keep it. I'm sorry if you thought I was hiding something from you, Shinji-kun, but I just don't want to put any more stress on your or Asuka's shoulders."
Misato then lifted herself from her chair and sat on Shinji's bed, still having a firm hold of his hand. She tenderly kissed him on the forehead, ruffling his hair and embracing him with care so as not to upset his wounds, as was expected. Unconsciously, Shinji's arms found their way to her back as well.
"I just don't want to lose either of you again. I want you to be happy, to grow up and live your lives."
"You just want the apartment all to yourself… that way you can invite Makoto over," muttered Shinji under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.
Misato chuckled before understanding the relevance of what had just transpired. "Ikari Shinji, did you just make a joke?"
After some laughs and a slow, painful and assisted change of clothes, Misato pushed Shinji on a wheelchair to the car, where they began their ride home. Shinji busied himself with observing the progress achieved in the reconstruction of Tokyo. Buildings once again stood tall in the advanced city, and although many of them were being built and finished, the ruins that Third Impact had left were rapidly being cared for. He happily noticed the lack of debris all around the streets, making it possible for cars to navigate through them, which meant the population was not only growing but also working and prospering. He could not help but feel guilty once again; had it not been for him there would be no need for reconstruction in the first place.
Misato herself was having a hard time focusing on the road, she feared Shinji's reaction at the news that his father had returned from the Red Sea. The boy had obviously still not heard or seen the news as of late, which left her with the uncomfortable, painful and dreadful task of telling Shinji that his father, the man who had sent him into a living hell, was alive. She gulped, dodging a piece of rock by mere inches and pretending to stare at the road, minding to take small glances at her young charge.
Shinji looked passive; his eyes were downcast and sad, probably because he once again felt responsible for the chaos and debris that Third Impact had produced in what used to be their home. No matter how many times she sat him down and told him it was not his fault, he perpetually blamed himself. Knowing fully well there was no nice way to break the news to him and never having been one to sugarcoat things; Misato gulped a second time and took a deep breath to calm her itching nerves.
"So, umm... Shinji, I think there's something you need to know."
Shinji turned his attention towards his guardian, eyeing with a raised eyebrow. "Uhh… What is it?" He felt somewhat glad that Misato had called him, the sight of so many wrecked buildings still haunted him, but the nervous way in which Misato was behaving made him worried.
Misato took another deep breath in an attempt to regulate her tone of voice. She wanted to break the news to him as gently as she could, but the subject of the Commander was never an easy one. "Well… a couple of days ago, umm, the Commander, your father… he… he came back."
The explosion of choking sounds she somehow expected were notable for their absence, surprising Shinji's guardian enough to almost pass through a red light and be squashed by a speeding trailer coming from the other side of the street. Misato stopped just in time to not pass the red light, turning to stare at Shinji, fearing the worst. What she found left her mouth hanging open, Shinji was casually watching her, a slightly surprised expression in his otherwise sad looking face.
"He did? Huh."
"Umm… don't you feel some kind of way about that? You know, after your history together and all…"
Shinji stared at her boringly before shrugging his shoulders and turning his attention to the streetlight. "Well, you don't go through something like Third Impact without learning something, I guess. I got to sort of understand why he did the things he did. Not that I'm going to forgive him for it, but I understand him. I learned that I had to stop looking for his approval, to stop living for it; that's something he's just unable to give, so I really don't care about him anymore. I used to really hate him for using me, for using of all us, but he wasn't the one pulling the strings in the end. I don't hate him, but I don't feel any respect for him either. I guess I don't think of that man as family anymore."
Shinji looked up at the heavens, amazing even himself at the lack of feeling the news brought to him. His father was a bastard, yes, but he was a bastard because it was his only way to cope with his mother's death, even when he had never learned how to live without her. That was why he had gone cuckoo and plotted to nuke the world and, in the midst of Armageddon, apologize to his equally cuckoo wife. Maybe he could be the link in the family chain that didn't try to blow up humanity for a change. No, he had succeeded in the family endeavor and could now move on from it. He smiled at the sky.
"I have a real family now." Shinji placed a finger on his chin, looking thoughtful for a while. "Umm… even so, could you arrange it so I can hit him in the face?"
Misato went from amazed to deeply touched in seconds, and was soon shedding tears and staring at Shinji with puppy dog eyes, which of course made the boy feel immensely uncomfortable. Her stare intensified, making him gulp and squirm in his seat. When she extended her arms, Shinji knew he was doomed, but was still hoping to escape from one of Misato's sloppy hugs in any way possible. Taking a look at the streetlight, he found his salvation when the light turned green.
"Misato-san, look! The light's green, we have to g-!"
Regardless of his valiant efforts, Shinji was once again subject to the torture of her hugs.
"Oohh, look at you, all grown up! I'm so proud! Aren't you the cutest little thing ever!" Misato pressed him against her ample bosom before grabbing his cheeks and pinching them. "When did you get so mature? And you're still so cute!"
"Umm, Misato-san, we're holding up the traffic," Shinji uttered awkwardly, nearly deafened by the increasing number of horns and obscenities being thrown at their way. Regardless of his pleas, she continued to cuddle him like a baby for about a solid minute, until the shouting of the other drivers escalated to a dangerous level.
They spent the rest of the ride home in quiet relaxation, each lost in their own thoughts.
Gendou sat on the hard, ratty mattress of his prison cell, calmly waiting for the guards to make their grand appearance and start making a big fuss out of everything. There was a dead assassin still bleeding onto the floor, after all. The boy's abilities were remarkable indeed; if the guards had taken so long it meant that every last part of his assault had been meticulously calculated, meaning that he had arranged the gunshot to be silent, he had arranged for the guards to be warned whenever he chose to, and it also meant the boy had managed to cut off the twenty-four hour surveillance feed of his prison cell long enough for him to ensure an escape.
The Makarov in his left hand was a truly astonishing piece. There were fine, interlocking lines of Russian-style art carved all over the shining black metal that adorned the weapon, making it look elegant and sophisticated. The red shining star that identified the weapon as a Makarov was intact; in fact, it seemed as though it had been recently polished. The barrel itself seemed modified; Makarov handguns had always been a favorite of the KGB and Russian army forces due to its endurance, small size, and power. They also could only be used with a specific type of nine millimeter bullet that was incompatible with any other weapon. The barrel itself had been slightly modified so the gunshots would resonate less, and the Commander was sure it left no recognizable marks on the bullets either.
There was a small disk in his chest pocket, one that could facilitate his freedom in moments. There was little politicians feared more than blackmail, and oh did he have blackmail material on that disk; with enough luck he'd be able to get restituted into his charge once again, but he would have to tread carefully. It seemed as though the powers that controlled the world were fighting amongst each other once again, and Japan had the lead since there was still a somewhat functional Evangelion in their power, which meant not only SEELE but the rest of the world would set its eyes on obtaining the technology and secrets of the S2 organ.
Taking slow breaths, he relaxed his senses, remembering the boy's words.
Gendou remained still for a while, noticing the smoking barrel of the weapon in front of him and the fact that he was still alive, and only once the message reached deeply into his brain did he turn around and see the dead man lying on the floor not a meter away from him. His intelligent mind wasted no time in analyzing the situation; clearly this was yet another assassin, an actual adult, and clearly his own life was in no immediate danger, since it was after all expected of the assassin to use a single perfect shot. But if the boy was not there to kill him, what was his purpose?
All this went through Gendou's head during the few seconds it took for him to gaze at the dead guard before addressing his eyes back at the smaller figure facing him. The boy, Dmitri, was smiling at him as he lowered his weapon. There was a flicker of movement in Gendou's arm as he braced himself to confront the boy, but Dmitri noticed it and once again pointed the weapon back at him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Commander, nor would I worry too much about him. You see, we're always deployed in pairs so the youngsters can 'learn the craft', but I seem to have a problem with authority. Forget about that, you must be wondering why you're still alive, which I'll gladly explain in the brief moments we have."
Upon noticing Gendou take a glance at the metal door and realize it was still firmly closed and that no hurried footsteps could be distinguished in the distance, the boy chuckled. "Don't worry; I've arranged enough time for everything to be explained."
Watching Gendou's guard lower once more, Dmitri continued. "We have a common enemy, Commander; you know who they are. I was hired by these individuals to get rid of you, your son, the First and Second Child and anyone who gets in my way, but you see... I've grown rather tired of doing their bidding. I've got a new boss now, one who needs you in your position to wage their war."
Gendou remained quiet yet alert, observing the boy's body language. It was completely controlled, not a movement wasted or unnecessary; this boy was truly dangerous. His eyes narrowed. "War?" asked the former Commander.
"Yes, war. SEELE still has a lot of military and economic power available, but they have lost all their political connections, they're being forced to contact drug lords to be able to move their gunships in radar-free zones. It won't be long before they make their move. Why live in a world where they're not kings?"
Dmitri paused, shook his head and chuckled. His cold eyes glared deeply into Gendou's own eyes, facing the man as a boy who possessed a soul more corrupted and tainted than his own. The boy reminded him of Shinji, and that thought sent a shiver down his spine.
"Unit 02 has awakened. It managed to regenerate and has now absorbed the cores of many of the EVA Series. From what I understand, it went ballistic on Lilith's head and when it got bored it simply deactivated, just like that. If SEELE gets their hands on a stable S2 core, it'll take no more than five years before they manage to duplicate it and build themselves a god-like machine. They will kill everyone at NERV, kill anyone who ever got close to Evangelion technology so they can have all the secrets to themselves. They'll get their own teams and start assembling and selling the technology all over the world. That's if they don't try to create another Impact.
"Can you imagine? In a few years, if you have the money, you're gonna be able to buy your own EVA! Now that there are no more Angels to kill we're going to stop pretending we're a unified species, and in a year or two we're going to go back to what we do best: killing each other. And Evangelions are remarkable killing machines. Any country with a functional Evangelion will be a force to be reckoned with. And who knows how powerful Unit 02 is now... suddenly a Fourth Impact doesn't sound so impossible."
The boy checked his watch, right eye twitching slightly in annoyance. He gazed back at Gendou's impassive face, smirked yet again at the lack of any reaction whatsoever in the Commander's face and nodded.
"Not that you didn't know all that, anyway. Well, regarding today. This is really not a prosecution at all, the group of ambassadors and chancellors sent to process and deport you to the international court so you can be "prosecuted" and probably sentenced to death, -public hanging most likely, a personal favorite- is a group you are quite familiar with."
The boy calmly walked over to the slightly taller man, standing about two feet away from him. They stared at one another, the ever present smirk in the boy's face facing the cold expression that had for so long distinguished Ikari Gendou.
"My employers took the liberty of furnishing you with physical evidence of all the incriminating and dirty shit you already know they did. I wouldn't be too surprised if you know each of their faces. Here."
As he spoke the boy produced a small disk from his jacket with his left hand, depositing it in Gendou's chest pocket. He patted the other man hard on the chest, his smirk growing wider as he once again received no reaction. He put his hand in the back pocket of his combat pants and took about twenty or so more disks. He then crouched onto the floor, knocking the bricks carefully until there was a hollow sound in one, which he retrieved from the floor before placing the disks in the hole. After he was done, he dropped the brick back in its place. The boy moved faster than Gendou managed to register, within a second he was inches away from the boy's face.
Gendou felt the cold metal of the gun as it was forcefully placed against his left hand. The boy was invading his personal space, glaring at him with those eyes that seemed to promise horrible tortures to anyone who dared stare into them. Any other man would have reacted, but he was Ikari Gendou, Bastard King. No child would intimidate him.
"Your job is to ensure the proper use of the EVA in this fantastic clusterfuck then, when everybody's dead, your other job is going to consist of blowing that fucking monster to kingdom come, or letting me do it if it comes to that."
Securing the weapon in Gendou's hand, Dmitri stepped away from him and in one fluid motion gripped the chair's back and propelled himself to the ceiling, kicking a loose metal plate, perhaps the route he had taken to enter his cell in the first place.
Before exiting the cell through the hole in the ceiling, the boy addressed Gendou with a much more sinister stare, that once again brought a tiny chill to the Commander's back. It felt as though Shinji was the one staring at him.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm in this for my own personal reasons. With all due respect to Ikari Shinji, if you fail in your assignment or try to fuck me over, then I'll tie you to a chair with barbed wire and disembowel your son and daughter while you watch. You have my word on that."
Wordlessly, the larger man nodded, knowing that the threat he had received was very much real. The Commander never lost his cold, calculating demeanor anymore than the boy lost his sarcastic and somewhat sickening smirk. With a bow, the boy jumped on the chair and then to the ceiling, securing the metal plate in seconds before somehow escaping though the ventilation ducts.
In the darkness of his prison cell, once again completely alone, Ikari Gendou smiled. It was not a pleasant sight.
About fifteen minutes after the boy exited his cell, the hurried footsteps shook the elder Ikari out of his reverie, and after about a minute of colorful curses and traded insults between the guards the metal door was unlocked; not before Gendou hid the weapon behind the toilet.
"What the fuck is going on he- Holy shit! There's a dead body on the floor!"
Not a second after the larger, stupider uniformed man exposed his numbing idiocy, the guards had manhandled Gendou into the floor, kicking and hitting him a bit more than necessary considering he did not offer resistance.
"Hurry up and cuff this asshole!"
"And how in the fuck am I gonna do that!? He's only got one hand!"
More kicks were delivered to his stomach and ribs before he was hauled off the ground by at least four men. His vision was slightly blurry, but he realized with satisfaction that the guards had not yet discovered the location of the weapon. Moreover, as he was dragged out of the cell the former Commander noticed the holster on the dead assassin's thigh was empty. Once again, he was astonished at the level of foresight and analysis the boy possessed. Had that brat been a pilot, he would have probably slaughtered every Angel unassisted, before going on a rampage and massacring as many humans as he could. It made Gendou sick to think that he himself had participated in the formation of child soldiers such as that maniac teenager.
He was dragged for about ten minutes, having to endure the occasional kick and punch the guards so happily delivered to his humanity and the mocking laughter coming from the other cells. He was brought into a room and forced to sit down. The guards then proceeded to cuff his one useful hand to the chair before grabbing a fistful of his hair and smashing his head against the table. Soon after the commotion died down, the guards exited the room except for five who remained at the door just in case he decided to pull something off.
After recovering his senses from the blow, Gendou noticed he was in some kind of a meeting hall; the table he had just saluted with his forehead was rather largo, enough to fit about twenty politicians. A conference hall; how pathetically predicable.
Gendou resisted the urge to count the seconds before the door opened and ever so predictably a group of well suited and pretentious men barged into the conference hall, infesting the large area with the stench of fine perfume and bullshit. Gendou offered no reaction whatsoever; he simply continued to sit, his face impassive and devoid of any expression while his eyes, now without their glasses, glared cold and hard ahead.
Oh yes, this would do just about fine, he knew each and every one of the individuals that entered the room, and they in turn knew him quite well. The General of the Japanese Army himself was present for the festivities. He could also distinguish the Japanese chancellor, Nakamura Iwatzu; the German ambassador Hans Stein; the Russian ambassador Alfred Muraviov and chancellor Fedor Streikovsky; the United States ambassador David Coghan; the Swiss ambassador Patrick Hünberg, undoubtly to pretend there was a neutral party in the charade they called a meeting; and finally two men he could only assume were representatives of the CIA. There were also about six or seven prosecutors accompanying them, most definitely to record and collect any and all statements that could be used against him.
Some of the most influential human beings in the planet were at that table, all of them summoned to properly extradite him to the International Court. The former Commander didn't know whether to snort in disgust or feel flattered. All of this, just for him?
The men took their respective seats, exchanging brief, curt words among each other before proceeding to stare at him with grim acceptance.
"Commander," said one of them. "Since we hail from different parts of the world, it would be in everyone's best interest if we carry out this procedure in English. Do you agree with such terms?"
"I do," answered Gendou in fluent English. "Gentlemen, I assure you these are not necessary." He raised his right hand to show the handcuffs. "There are six guards inside this room, and I only have one hand, so the prospect of me doing something rash is rather absurd."
"Absurd, huh?" countered the Russian ambassador, a thick accent noticeable in his voice. He was a hard man, large and quite physically strong, as was expected from a former Special Forces member, always wearing a frown and a displeased expression on his face. "Absurd like the idea of you murdering a Russian soldier in your cell no more than 20 minutes ago?" The man slammed his fist on the table, glaring hatred into Gendou's cold expression.
"If I recall correctly, I murdered an assassin hired by SEELE to kill me. It did strike me as strange that someone could so easily infiltrate one of Japan's most secure prisons, but I had no notion of your personal involvement in such an activity, ambassador," Gendou smoothly replied, falling into silence and smirking when he noticed the Russian snort and again take his seat. The outburst generated whispers and exchanges of fearful glances among the politicians, yet when it started to escalate the Swiss ambassador cleared his throat and addressed Gendou in a neutral, controlled tone.
"Gendou Ikari, for the crimes you have committed against mankind, you are now to be extradited to the Netherlands, where you will be prosecuted and sentenced, do you understand this?"
"Yes and no."
Hünberg raised an eyebrow, somewhat annoyed at Ikari's sarcastic response. "What, exactly, do you not understand?"
"Oh, I understand, gentlemen," said Gendou. "Your countries wish to wash their hands of their personal participation in the process that led to Third Impact. In order to do so, you need a scapegoat. I am sorry to inform you, however, that I will not be that scapegoat."
"What are you playing at, Ikari?" barked the America ambassador. "You are no longer Commander, and NERV is under the direct control of the United Nations, so don't go pretending you're hot shit, you crazy motherfucker!"
Americans, always the ones to jump first into the water. Gendou fought hard not to smirk this time; it was like fishing with dynamite. "Mister Coghan, always the one to voice out your opinion, no? Tell me, sir, did you speak with the same passion when you personally approved the funds to be sent to SEELE for the construction of the EVA Series, knowing well what their purpose was?"
"So you plan to blackmail us, Ikari? You have no evidence whatsoever." The German ambassador voiced his opinion in a cold voice, quickly growing tired of the confidence Ikari seemed to exude.
"Oh, but I beg to differ, gentlemen. General Kiwamoto, you yourself ordered and approved the budget and troops that attacked NERV and killed hundreds of innocent workers, many of which would not be alive today had it not been for my son. You made personal deals with Lorenz Keel for performance enhancement drugs you gave to your soldiers. Also, let us not forget that the attack on NERV headquarters was an assault perpetrated, planned and strategized by SEELE, not that any of that stopped you. You willingly participated in the murder of the Second Child."
Before any of them could so much as utter a word, the Commander continued.
"Mister Muraviov, you have personally recruited more than three hundred orphans from all over the world for SEELE's "Child Soldier" program or Project X, many of them from your own country. Moreover, you have made personal deals with many of the world's most despicable men, selling Russian firearms, gunships and even jets to international drug lords and despotic dictators. The Russian government itself was one of the top investors in the Instrumentality project, outmatched of course only by the United States, the biggest contributor. It is also presumed that the former Russian chancellor, Yuri Kalashnikov, was and still is one of the main members of SEELE."
"That's enough!" shouted the General, outraged. "We will not be blackmailed by the likes of you! As a member of the Japanese Army I have the jurisdiction of executing you on sight for high treason!"
Nakamura, who sat beside the General, kept his silence, preferring to observe Ikari instead.
"The American is right! We will not bullied into submission!" Muraviov looked just about ready to take a gun himself and blow Gendou's head off on the spot, but he managed to control his senses.
"I'm afraid I'm not done, gentlemen." Gendou remained impassive, unresponsive to the narrowing eyes of everyone in the room. The German ambassador appeared to be at a boiling point since his face achieved the most remarkable red color he had seen since returning from the Red Sea, so he decided to attack.
"Herr Stein, SEELE had its origin in Germany and for many years their conferences took place in Düsseldorf with the German Government's consent. Many of Keel's businesses generated great profit for your government, Keel himself was a personal acquaintance of the German Prime Minister, and I could continue for hours and hours. I could give these respectable prosecutors enough material to write a book, but that is not why we're here at all, is it mister Nakamura?"
The older, smaller man adjusted his glasses, turning to stare stiffly at him before clearing his throat. He, apart from the prosecutors and CIA agents, had been the ones to not so much as utter a word; they simply waited for the environment to be the proper one to intervene.
"Ikari is right. We are not here to prosecute him; he has vital information and experience we require in order to proceed against SEELE." The CIA agent spoke in a completely cold, authoritative tone of voice.
The man beside him nodded grimly, turning to the aggravated politicians. "Gentlemen, it is imperative, for your security and the security of your careers that you agree in postponing Ikari's trial until after SEELE is disbanded. For the time being, we require his assistance."
"This is absurd! You're telling me we're going to let this genocidal maniac loose and put him in a position of power again? He's directly responsible for Third Impact, hell, he would have triggered it himself!" the Russian ambassador exploded over the CIA agents.
"Measures have been taken. His moves will be monitored at all times; he will have a twenty-four hour surveillance with permission to execute him should he attempt anything suspicious. All of his personal files and knowledge will be shared with the United Nations and the proper intelligence agencies."
The room exploded in chaos, every ambassador and chancellor screamed at the agents and prosecutors, demanding blood, justice and revenge. For minutes the heated discussion continued, soon each member yelled and insulted in their own language, demanding to be heard but succeeding only in creating chaos in the chamber. The Swiss ambassador himself started yelling at Stein from the other side of the room. It escalated to a point where the guards readied their weapons in order to restore peace and quiet in the conference hall.
Nakamura saw his opportunity to intervene when the other members of the council sat down and attempted to relax. He was a patient man, someone who had dealt with Ikari before, but more importantly, he had been one of the few who had sensed something strange and suspicious about the Angel Wars. He was a man of principle, so the very sight of Ikari made him sick to his stomach; however, he was aware of Ikari's importance in the war against SEELE. He also held the man's son in high esteem, fully aware Ikari Shinji had, willingly or not, saved them all from a fate worse than death.
"Ikari will be placed in the position of Commander Advisor, with the jurisdiction of a Sub-Commander, for the duration of the hunt and termination of the SEELE criminals. After his usefulness has run its course, he will be properly prosecuted and sentenced, although, depending on his commitment to this mission his sentence may be diminished. If he so much as tries something out of the ordinary, though, as the gentleman remarked, he will be shot on sight."
Nakamura adjusted his glasses once again, organized his documents and calmly stood, excusing himself, taking a respectful bow and leaving. The Prosecutors finished their notes, directed glares towards the ambassadors and chancellors, closed their books and also retreated. Soon the politicians and Ikari were alone in the room with the prison guards and the CIA agents. A thick silence reigned over the conference hall, the remaining members of the council felt, for once, completely powerless. Ikari had them exactly where he wanted them; the material he possessed on their past, less than honorable actions could forever destroy their careers and send them to prison for a very long time.
"Gentlemen," said the now Advisor, addressing the other men with indifference. "I am quite certain we can come to an arrangement, there is absolutely no need for any of us to get upset. There is also no need for this information to find its way to the press."
The Russian representative uttered a few selected insults in his native language before proudly and forcefully lifting himself from the table. "I will not participate in this charade." With that, along with the Russian chancellor, who had also kept his silence, the larger man left the room, slamming the door on his way out.
One by one the men left; once or twice did they address him in any way, but it was mostly to insult or degrade him, so he paid it no mind. Soon enough he was left alone with the CIA agents and the prison guards. One of the agents received some orders in his earpiece, proceeding to ask or demand the guards to leave them alone. After unplugging the cameras in the room, both men took their seats, seating facing Ikari. Both men retrieved their handguns from their coats and placed them on the table, and after adjusting his dark glasses, one of the agents spoke.
"I trust you have already been debriefed by our agent." Observing as Gendou nodded, the man continued.
"As you well understand, this is a very delicate operation. SEELE has informants in almost every part of the world. This is the first time the CIA and the SVR, the Russian Foreign Intelligence Agency, have joined their efforts in the hunting of these men, and of course you understand your expertise is required. We must warn you, however, that this will not, under any circumstances, make up for your former actions. You will be prosecuted. For the time being, you will be placed in a designated living location within the confines of NERV. A party of twelve agents will follow you wherever you go, both to ensure your safety and our own. You must understand, should you do something suspicious, you will be shot. In the head." The agent cleared his throat, and receiving some information through his earpiece and nodding, he retrieved his handgun and stood from his chair.
Both agents then proceeded to leave, taking their weapons and arranging their vests. They nodded to each other, and as the now Advisor predicted, one of them took out a set of keys and uncuffed him. Both men took a last glance at Ikari before opening the door.
"You will be taken to your living quarters in fourteen hours, given that we will need to clear the small incident in your prison cell. Now remember Ikari, we will have you monitored at all times, so instead of plotting the end of the world, perhaps you should pursue a better relationship with your son, maybe put your personal affairs in order during the next ten days. I hear he's been in the hospital for a month, the poor boy, some sort of domestic violence case or whatnot." The last comment seemed to break through Ikari's cold demeanor, earning the agent a heated glare to which he responded with a cold, ruthless smile.
The door closed, and again Gendou was left alone. Outside, he could hear the guards argue with the CIA agents as they informed the poor bastards they had to let him go, which would most likely earn him a few kicks, but his mid was occupied elsewhere. His brain tried to comprehend how the boy could have been involved in a domestic violence case that left him in the hospital. Katsuragi had most definitely returned and she was a poor suspect for such an occurrence. The Second Child entered his mind, but he remembered she had been murdered before Third Impact even began; she had been the blood sacrifice to the Black Moon Ritual and as such had no possibility of return. The core of her Evangelion had been torn out, the entire thing had been ripped to shreds and devoured, there was no possible way she was alive. Unit 02 activating was close to being impossible.
For the entire duration of his trip back to his cell, being dragged forcefully through the large halls of the prison and accompanied of course by the random insults and hits, a single though went through his head. He understood, now.
The boy. He truly is… incorrigible.
Touji ran as fast as his legs could push him, trying in vain to clear his mind of the gruesome information he had just received. He'd been understanding and compassionate with Shinji because they were good friends; besides, Shinji had saved him in more ways that he could think of, but he couldn't bring himself to face his friend right now.
Feeling the air leave his lungs and quite certain he was no longer in the Medical Ward, Touji slid down the wall, having the mental image of Shinji's words imprinted on his brain. He kept thinking over and over; What if that was my sister? What would've I done if that was Sakura? What would've I done? What if that had been my little sister? What if that had been Hikari? What then?
Touji stared at the ground, seeking solace in his own reflection which gaze back at him without any response or solution. It was always easier to judge someone than to put yourself in their place, after all. Being informed of Shinji's actions prior to Third Impact had radically changed his view of everything. He had always believed Shinji had somehow averted the worst part of Third Impact, but from he had gathered, Shinji had done nothing but sit around as Asuka herself held the fort. He had also always known Asuka had lost that final battle, but to know Shinji had done nothing, had given up on everything and simply chosen to die along with everybody else... it was difficult. He stayed there for a while, looking at his reflection on the polished floors of NERV.
For about a minute Touji sat in total silence and caution, scared that any sudden movements would make him think too much or stumble across the wrong train of thought, so he remained still, controlling his breathing and feeling somehow out of place in the whole situation; as if it was some sort of out of body experience.
A hand on his shoulder shook Touji out of his musings, making him turn his head and stare at the same expression he had been looking at for the past minute. Kensuke gazed at him with a sad, unknowing look on his face. He sat down next his friend, keeping the hand steadily on Touji's shoulder.
"Touji… what are we gonna do?" Touji sighed, turning his eyes yet again to the floor. For once since they had known each other, he had no answer for his spectacled friend.
"I don't know, man…" Both of them sighed again, staring at the ground and waiting for it to give them an answer. How would they address Shinji now? Should the topic even be discussed again? Should they behave as if the conversation had never taken place? What should they do about Asuka? Should they tell Hikari as well, or was it not their place to do so?
"I don't know…"
The room was quiet, the silence upset only by the hurried typing of the person sitting in front of him. Yet another meeting; God, he was already regretting having agreed to work with the good guys for a change. Everything was so boring, so slow, so amateur that sometimes he felt like sending it all to hell and doing everything by himself, but alas, he could not. Father expected better than that, after all.
Dmitri drummed his fingers with impatience, the blast of Motorhead's "We Bring the Shake" doing very little to soothe his boredom. He despised being troubled during his work; he despised it almost as much as he despised the smug son of a bitch smoking a cigarette two seats away from him. That relaxed, casual way in which the man addressed himself made Dmitri want to take his knife and push it all the way through the other man's skull. Cigarettes... what a giveaway in their line of work. The smell brought back dark memories, dark thoughts, and bloodlust.
"Time wasted like this is costly," said Dmitri, taking his earphones off.
"Patience, young Mister Krupnov. You know, work is not a wolf, it won't run into the woods."
Dmitri growled a selected insult in his native language, turning to the agent standing in the middle of the room with impatience clearly written in his face.
"Oh, a Russian saying. How original," he replied sarcastically. "I really wish I had the time to be sitting around and chatting about the weather with you wonderful wastes of space, but there's actual work to be done. SEELE thinks I'm spying on the children, so I have to at least keep up the character. And you," growled the boy, staring straight into the man's face and trying not to puke from the disgusting smell of his cancer-stick. "If you don't want to have that pony tail wrapped around your neck you better keep the comments of wisdom to yourself. Fat load of difference your empty words made in the end, hmm?"
"Enough," the agent facing them grated. The figure in the big chair, who worked on four different mainframes at the same time, never bothered to turn around. "Agent Krupnov, your report."
Dmitri stood from his chair, retrieving a small disk from a pocket in his vest and delivering it to the man facing him. The boy gave him a sadistic grin; his eyes were daring the agent to say the wrong thing, make a wrong move, anything to justify violence.
"So, Walter," he commented. " How are the wife and kids? I hear your little girl's about to start kindergarten, yes? Tell me, does your wife still walk the family dog from ten to eleven in the morning, or has she changed her schedule? Be sure to let me know."
The agent resisted the urge to draw his weapon and empty the damn thing into the brat's face as Dmitri patted him on the shoulder quite forcefully. He knew that killing the child would bring no good to the mission, so instead he chose to rip the disk out of the boy's hand, glaring at him from under the dark glasses. The tension between them both was almost palpable, as was to be expected; agents never got along with other agents, after all.
"Keep growling, CIA dog," said Dmitri. "Why don't you go fetch your president a Ding-Dong, huh?"
The man huffed at him before heading toward the terminal at which the figure worked non-stop, not even stopping to check the disk. The man inserted the disk into one of the mainframes and worked on downloading the information. As soon as his eyes started reading the documents, the fine glasses almost fell off.
"Last known residence, cash flow and expenses for the last five months, troop locations, last documented photographs, personal acquaintances, bank account numbers, pseudonyms, safe-houses… How the hell did you find all this information?"
Dmitri laughed, slowly making his way to the exit. "If you know too much, you might get old very quickly, Walter. All you intelligence agencies seem to lack the first word all the time, so it's up to adolescent boys like me to do all the work for you. Oh, one more thing, you are all a bunch of amateurs, we're hunting men with enough money to hide from all of you, but there's a fun fact, from the 13 members of the council, only seven of them have returned. You might want to stop trying to find Keel, he's been dead for a long time. SEELE 02 saw to that. Not that it was hard, old fuck was about to croak, anyway."
Dmitri retreated, leaving the agent muttering curses to himself, but not before heading over to the smoker's seat and kicking him right in the mouth, successfully extinguishing the cigarette, cutting the man's cheek and burning his eyes with the hot, still lit ashes of his cancer stick.
"That shit kills, you know." His task completed, Dmitri smiled and left the warehouse, leaving the agent, the person on the chair and the man on the ground completely alone. Said man slowly picked himself up, checking his mouth for any broken teeth or any fractured bones and pressing a finger against the cut the boy's boot had left on his face. Boy, that brat could kick. Moreover, that brat was better at his job than he had been during his entire career, and he was not even a legal adult yet. Talk about a blow to the ego.
"Pretentious little fucker, isn't he?" the agent remarked. "We caught him once, the bastard. Managed to get close to the stand in some Governor's speech two years ago and blew the poor bastard's head off. Can you believe it? And publicly at that, right in the noses of the Secret Service. Fifteen years old and already a fucking hitman, and if it hadn't been because his superior was a real idiot, we wouldn't have caught him at all. We should've known it was a mission thought out to get rid of him, not the Governor."
"So what did you do with him?" asked the man, taking a package of Marlboros out of his pocket and lighting yet another cigarette.
"Tortured him for hours, days even, but the boy didn't budge. Five days and not a word. He laughed, I was told, and told my agents it tickled. On the sixth day, he managed to get the chains off, unlocked his cell with a piece of handcuff and some paper clips, killed seven guards and escaped. Then, he tracked down the guys that captured him and killed them one by one. Our orders were... to not interfere with him, after that."
The agent took off his glasses, cleaning them with his vest and staring at the screen, which now showed the information regarding the Children. "Fucking fifteen years old, ridiculous. Even after years of trying to make him a mindless weapon, SEELE itself decided against ever using him except if it was on field missions. Even then, they were hesitant. The old goats bred a killer too good to even be controlled."
The ponytailed man whistled in amazement, taking a long draw and blowing smoke through his nostrils. If the CIA was willing to work with one of SEELE's former child soldiers, that meant they were really getting desperate; which also led to the conclusion that SEELE was still very strong and influential. The Old Men had always pulled the strings from the darkness, after all, so no longer being a secret society and instead having been branded as a terrorist organization made little difference to them.
"Well," said Kaji, walking closer to the screen and observing the photographs that showed the Second Child while he finished his cigarette. Not even Third Impact and the opportunity to come back to life had managed to take that little addiction from him, but such things came to be trivial as he watched the pictures of his former charge and former lover, sitting in their apartment and eating dinner. They were alive, however unwell at the moment. They had survived.
"I guess we may want to be careful around him, then. Now, let's get to work, shall we? Those old men aren't going to hunt themselves." Kaji threw the burnt out filter to the ground, excusing himself with a bow and heading for the exit.
The person on the chair never stopped typing or working, did not so much as bother to turn around during the entire duration of the meeting. The typing, planning, reading and analyzing simply continued nonstop; there was too much to do, too much to prepare for in very little time, too many people to command, too many people to predict. The figure did not bother to turn around as both agents left, but when the room was silent and the screens were occupied by the image of Ikari Shinji lying in bed, with bandages and tubes all over his body, the typing stopped, and the person's ocean blue eyes filled with tears.
Misato and Shinji arrived at their apartment building on the afternoon, the sun had started to set and the evening breeze made itself noticeable to the young boy, who wore a blue T-shirt and a pair of jeans whose origin he had yet to discover since he had no memory of buying them at any moment. For all he knew, his wardrobe still consisted of white and blue shirts, some pairs of black pants and a pink T-shirt with some shorts for the hot days, but the outfit he wore was rather classy; the clothes felt new, comfortable and looked quite expensive, so he decided to ask Misato about it later.
The trip to their apartment was a tad slow since Shinji could only move at a certain pace without stretching his healing muscles. They took the elevator, both in comfortable silence, and headed for home. The closer he got to the front door, the more nervous he felt. This would be the first time he set foot in their house since the… incident, so Shinji honestly had no idea how they were supposed to behave around each other anymore. Misato had cleared much of her time so she could spend time with them -and keep a watchful eye on Asuka- but the woman had spent so much time away from home both before and after Third Impact that Shinji had no idea of how to go back to the routine he had somehow gotten used to for the past five months.
Misato appeared oblivious to it, but she noticed Shinji's hesitance as he walked. He avoided any eye contact, kept his eyes firmly set on the ground which was not strange of him, but his head was hunched a bit further, he tried prolonging every step as much as possible, pretending to grab his side or hiss in fake pain at moments in a vain attempt to escape from his perceivable future. The entire time he had spent in the hospital Shinji had wanted nothing more than to return home but now, when the only thing left to do was take a few more steps he somehow wished he could have stayed in that sterile, boring room for two or three more days.
The closer they got to the door, the slower Shinji seemed to walk, it shamed him to behave so cowardly in front of Misato, but he was too unsure; the entire situation felt alien, strange. How many times had he returned from the hospital to the same exhausting, painful routine that had once before destroyed their relationship?
He felt Misato's hand on his shoulder, and looking up Shinji saw her smiling down at him.
"It's okay, Shinji-kun," said his guardian kindly. "Take as long as you need."
Somehow, that simple act of kindness and support gave him the strength to lift his head and head for the door, this time at a normal pace. Before he realized it, the door was already sliding open.
"We're home!" Misato announced as loudly as she could, making Shinji flinch as he slowly took off his shoes.
"Welcome home!" shouted Asuka with equal strength, waving from the kitchen with the apron still firmly tied around her waist. Her hair looked a tad disheveled, some errant strands of red clung to her sweaty forehead as she retrieved the lasagna from the oven, filling the house with the incredible aroma of home-made pasta. The scent assaulted Shinji head first, his stomach informing him that yet again it had been neglected, and that repercussions would be swift and painful should he not obey and taste whatever food produced such scent.
As the door hissed closed behind him and Misato walked up to the living room to unceremoniously drop her humanity on the couch, Shinji finally turned his eyes towards the kitchen/dining/living room, catching a glimpse of the redhead as she finished her preparations and set the lasagna on the table. He stood there, mesmerized by the mere act of Asuka cooking, admiring her as she masterfully prepared the table for everyone to eat, just like he had done so many times before. Misato turned on the TV, and somewhere outside the cicadas sang in a familiar choir as they flew away. All sounds Shinji had come to get used to.
He stayed by the door, somehow unable to move, or perhaps unwilling. He wanted to make that small moment last forever, that simple act of coming home, of feeling the familiarity of his environment. Asuka had not sent so much as a glance at his way, she seemed too preoccupied with making the arrangements for their meal, which he had under no circumstances expected.
After the last dish had been set on the table, the sweaty redhead mustered up enough courage to stare at Shinji, noticing the faraway, dreamy expression on his face. It was still too hard to turn her gaze to him; whenever she laid eyes on his face, the image of Shinji throwing up blood manifested itself, but she paid it no mind. The great Sohryu Asuka Langley would not let her dinner be spoiled. She smiled at him, albeit a tad shyly, thinking of something to say, something of substance, but the only words that came to mind were the ones she had used for him; just for him, for what felt like an eternity.
"Hi, Baka-Shinji." As soon as the words left her mouth it felt as though a barrier of glass that seemed to separate them not two seconds before broke and shattered magnificently.
"Hi, Asuka."
They stared at one another, not really knowing what came next, unsure of how to proceed, but for the time being they found themselves satisfied with sharing the few strands of normality they still had left. The balance broke of course as Misato announced her hunger, demanding she be fed right away. Soon enough the older woman sat at the head of the table, picked up the strange eating utensil known as a fork and carefully examined the small metal trident as if it were some sort of weapon.
"It's a fork Misato," said Asuka. "You know, to eat. Use the spiky end to pick up your food and then put it in your mouth."
Shinji finally moved from the entrance, walking towards the dining table and occupying his usual spot, the one Asuka had been staring at for the past month. Asuka took her own seat in front of him while Misato headed the table, and soon enough the food started being consumed. No other words were spoken throughout the meal, the simple greatness of the lasagna kept them occupied, the only comments emitted were Shinji and Misato's praise at Asuka's cuisine, which the redhead shook off with her usual attitude, an attitude everyone in the house had missed.
"Umm… this is incredible, Asuka!" said Shinji.
Asuka chuckled at Shinji's enthusiasm, swallowing a mouthful of pasta and lifting an eyebrow at him. "Well of course it's delicious. I made it after all, so what did you expect?"
"Honestly," said Misato, a random piece of molten cheese clinging from the tip of her mouth. "I thought you were gonna burn the house down with one of your little experiments. She's been learning how to cook all month, Shinji-kun. I'm telling you, if you think my food was bad you should've tasted her first try at soup. I didn't even know you could burn soup."
Asuka's cheeks reddened in embarrassment, making her glare at her guardian with her old passion. "You're one to talk, remember that curry you wanted to bring him last week? I still think that thing should be thrown out with the radioactive waste."
Misato stuck out her tongue between bites, choosing to focus on her meal than to lose an already lost battle. Shinji chuckled lightly at her comment, but a random spurt of laughter made him stretch his muscles in the wrong way, making him hiss in pain and grab his side.
Misato dropped her fork, focusing entirely on him. "Are you okay, Shinji? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Worry etched all over her face, she was ready to bolt out the door and take him to an infirmary at any moment's notice. Shinji seemed rather taken back by her reaction, staring at her strangely, as if the mere thought of going back to the hospital was anything but absurd.
"N-no, Misato-san, not at all. I'm fine, see? Just a little too much laughter, I guess." Shinji looked at her apologetically before once again turning his attention to the meal. It came as a surprise to Misato when the boy not only was the first to finish his plate, but also the first to have seconds. It was clear that he was quite hungry.
Too focused on devouring the feast on the table, both Misato and Shinji missed Asuka's reaction to his pain. She stopped eating as soon as she heard him hiss, lowering her head and trying to control the surge of shame and guilt that a simple sound managed to bleed into her chest. She stared at her plate, wondering if the calm, relaxed atmosphere they currently enjoyed was a simple fallacy, a vain attempt from all of them to pretend civility and care. She lowered her head, averting her clear cerulean eyes from the other two occupants of the table and trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.
It felt so strange to wish to disappear, being someone who had for so long craved for everyone's undivided attention. She played with her food, somehow having lost her appetite altogether, letting her long hair cover her eyes and hoping neither of them noticed it, but not avail.
Shinji looked up at her questioningly, becoming aware of Asuka's hesitance towards the food. He also noticed the drooped shoulders, the effort to try to avoid any eye contact, the random playing with the food; he noticed it all but was at a loss of what to do. His uncertainty lasted less than ten seconds, for he discovered a way to help her without the need to even talk to her, so Shinji simply nudged her left hand with his own. When she addressed startled blue eyes at him, he smiled shyly.
Asuka smiled in return and just like that, the feeling of shame dissipated from her stomach, allowing her to continue her meal. She had to give herself credit after all, the lasagna was delicious, and ignoring such a fine meal made by her expert hands would most definitely be a waste.
Soon enough the three of them finished their meal, as soon as she was done Misato excused herself and headed for bed right away, but not before leveling a warning glance at Asuka to let her know should anything happen then the consequences were not going to be nice. Going to bed so early was something rather strange for the older woman, who normally stayed up until to two or three in the morning working. Asuka herself was rather surprised by the early goodnight call from her guardian but didn't pay too much mind to it; she figured Misato had taken the rest of the day off and was planning on compensating many sleepless nights for the past months.
They were left alone in the dining room, a room that looked so much like the one in their old apartment. Where they had kissed. Where they had suffered, unable to find each other in the dark. Where Shinji had begged for her help and strangled her when she refused.
Shinji calmly gathered the dishes as Asuka put the surviving lasagna in the freezer, minding to cover it first with some aluminum foil. Shinji carried the plates and glasses in three or four short trips, mindful to not carry too much weight. As soon as he was done organizing them in the sink he went into autopilot and started washing them, the feeling of the cold water on his hands was strangely comforting; he had always felt at home when doing any housework. It felt nice to care for your home.
Asuka looked over to the sink, frowning when she noticed Shinji washing the dishes. He was not supposed to do anything but rest! She stormed over to where he was, wearing a disapproving frown on her face. Shinji was oblivious to her approach; he simply kept washing with a small smile on his face until Asuka's face was inches from his own. Being so close to him, she could not help but notice that even when he was far off in his own little world of household duties, Shinji looked sad. He always looked sad.
"Shinji."
When he felt her breathing on his neck he turned, only to nearly jump out of his skin. "Ahh! A-Asuka, is something wrong?" Shinji asked, staring at her in obvious fear. He recoiled from the sink as if he had been ordered to and pressed his back against the fridge while a familiar feeling of hysteria and fear overcame his senses and drove his brain into a different sort of autopilot. He knew he would get punished, but he had hoped for at least a week or so more to recover. Giving in to his fate, he closed his eyes and waited for the blow to come.
Asuka watched his reaction, her frown somehow deepening. She looked at the ground when Shinji closed his eyes, feeling dejected and angry towards both herself and Shinji. "You're not supposed to be doing the dishes, dummy. You need to rest." She clenched her fist for a second, then turned to the sink and rinsed the plate Shinji had been washing.
Surprised at her comment, Shinji opened his eyes find his roommate washing the dishes. He felt ridiculous and silly, standing there waiting for a punch, and felt even worse when he glanced at Asuka's frown. He fidgeted a little, thinking of the right words to utter.
"Umm… sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess." It was a sincere apology; he felt it as much as she did, one of the first sincere apologies he had given, so Asuka's frown turned into a half-smile.
"You're an idiot. The doctors told you to rest, and that's exactly what you're gonna be doing so you can get better real fast. Don't think I'm going to keep doing everything around here forever." She gave him a mock-frown, sticking out her tongue before returning to her task.
Shinji smiled as well, scratching his head in embarrassment. Indeed, he had been instructed to rest for at least another two weeks before he could do any kind of stressful physical activity. "Never crossed my mind."
Asuka rolled her eyes at him, signaling the conversation had turned boring for her standards as thus would be terminated. "Go to your room and get some rest already, will ya? I'll finish this up."
Shinji felt somewhat flattered at the simple gesture, but then he remembered that this was the first time that Asuka offered to do something for him. He didn't want to ruin Asuka's mood, so he complied and headed for his room, the place that for so long had been his sanctuary of solitude and pain, but not before expressing his gratitude towards the redheaded goddess washing the dishes.
"Thank you."
Asuka smiled from beneath her bangs, but remained still, only nodding to him instead. She most definitely did not want Shinji to notice she was blushing.
"Sure, sure. Don't get used to it, though. I told you, I still find all of these… duties to be below my superior skill, so hurry up and get better." She heard him chuckle from behind, followed by the sound of his door sliding open and then closing. She finally released the breath she had been holding all day long, her shoulders slackened dramatically as the cold water ran down her hands. She had done it. She had managed to control her temper; she had managed to behave somewhat civilly towards him for once.
After she was done with the dishes, Asuka decided to give Shinji some time to himself prior to introducing him to her special creation, so for the time being Asuka sat on the couch and turned on the TV, deciding to wait for exactly forty-five minutes before unveiling her masterpiece. Timing was, after all, everything.
Shinji sat on his bed, staring at the familiar ceiling for the first time in a month. Everything in the room appeared to be immaculate, every inch of his small domain had been thoroughly cleaned and rinsed; it even smelled good, like lemon or something citric, fruity. He stared, idly wondering if somehow the ceiling would provide miraculous inspiration and solve his life in a heartbeat. As always, the ceiling offered no answers or any form of fantastic enlightenment, neither did the song he listened to on his SDAT, as always. The small player crackled every now and then; it was more than a little battered, and the fact that it still worked was a small miracle itself. Shinji felt good for once, relaxed, at home and more content than he had in years; and yet the sensation of detachment, of hollowness lingered in his full stomach, making it difficult to digest the delicious meal he had just been subjected to.
What was he supposed to do, now that he could not escape to his little private safe haven? How to escape the terrible memories, the crushing guilt and horrible actions that plagued him day in and day out? Perhaps his current state was yet another resourceful tactic of Karma to punish him for his sins, or perhaps it was his final opportunity to grow and face his own self, no matter how terrifying the idea was. He could feel it, coiling in his subconscious, waiting impatiently for him to return to the land of dreams so he could be tortured, but it made little difference to him. There was little the beast had not already used against him, so there was really no use in trying to run away.
Shinji's eyes snapped open. That was it. He had been running away this whole time. Cleaning the house, feeling hollow, letting himself be beaten and crushed by Asuka, they were all small escapes, possible routes for him to choose from so his actions would not haunt him so much. Being abused by Asuka was the easiest way to run away; it had always been his most reliable escape, because whenever Asuka insulted him, or spat on him, or kicked him there was a feeling of righteousness.
He had effectively managed to design the perfect escape; the perfect, permanent road to take so he could feel as though he was paying for his past actions, when in reality all he had accomplished was to make the girl he loved suffer that much more due to his uselessness. Letting her unleash her anger in such a violent way, being a comfort toy whenever her own loneliness became too sour and cold to bear and wordlessly preparing and making everything for her was no help to her pain, it had never been. It was just another excuse he had devised to make himself feel better. God, he was so fucking tired of running away.
A click announced the cassette's end, but Shinji didn't bother to change it or even remove the earphones. No running away. That phrase, it simply sounded so much better than 'I mustn't run away'. No running away, period, no matter what. Perhaps, had he devised that simple phrase in his brain before, he could have saved Asuka and the world, preventing Third Impact. He had allowed it to happen. In his hands had been the final decision, in his hands had been laid the lives and dreams of every living person, only for him to crush them and forever stain his palms with their blood. But no more, no more running from his actions, no more excuses, no more fucking Bakelite, no more paper walls, no more cries in the middle of the night, and most definitely no more hiding behind the music, or the hollowness or even his own guilt.
The dull feeling of glass shards moving along his chest reminded Shinji it was time for his nightly pain-pill. He was glad the pills were rather light; there was no worse feeling in the world than being doped up on painkillers, it just reminded him too much of the feeling inside Instrumentality, that hollow, synthetic happiness he had come to be disgusted with. He noticed a bag with his medicine sitting by his nightstand, how that bag had even found its way to his room was yet another mystery, but again, he was not going to complain. Quickly chugging away the pill with a glass of water he had no memory of filling or even placing on his nightstand Shinji tried stretching his arms, but was assaulted by a dull sting on his ribs.
"Ugh, not yet, huh?"
After a slow and cautious change into some loose shorts, Shinji laid back on the soft mattress, letting his muscles release all the tension of a month's worth of missing his own bed, and waited for the pill to work its magic on his dull ache. He was a tad sleepy and very tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep just yet. He was generally afraid of falling unconscious, knowing what endless horrors awaited for him in the deepest, darkest parts of his subconscious, but Shinji had already discovered running away from his memories was as pointless as pretending to comb a snake, not only was it a waste of time since the snake has no hair, but the snake would constantly turn to bite him. He would confront that thing in his brain tonight; he would no longer be robbed of his sleep by that beast. It was better than running away and being afraid all the time.
"Heh, that's easy enough to say…" whispered Shinji to himself, hoping to somehow be prepared for whatever torture his mind was to bestow upon him. It did not scare him as much as before, though, knowing Misato was there and accessible made him feel much safer, plus, he had been given some very strong sleeping pills should things take a turn for the worst, but he had decided to keep those pills hidden and use them only as a last resort. He sat there, staring at the ceiling in a rare state of inner tranquility for about half an hour. The pain on his side had all but disappeared, but the bandages itched a little and they bothered him under the clothes. The light was off; he had always preferred to think in the dark than under some artificial light.
A faint knock on his door brought Shinji back to reality, making him turn his head to the entrance of his small domain.
"Come in," he croaked, his voice strained as a resilient yawn made itself known. Shinji expected Misato to come through the door, but was taken back when Asuka strode into his room carrying a plate with two spoons on it. The room was dark except for the light shining through the door, so it was impossible for him to identify the meal. What he did identify with disgusting accuracy was the numbing fear that having Asuka in his room brought him. It shouldn't be like this, Shinji thought to himself while trying to control his nerves. He took a deep breath as Asuka knelt down and sat on the edge of his bed.
"H-Hey, Asuka," he said, swallowing nervously. From the short distance he managed to distinguish the rather large serving of chocolate cake sitting on the plate.
"Hey, Baka. I… I wanted to talk to you for a bit. Here, I made this for you." She handed him the sweet treat, hoping with all her heart the nervousness she could feel from him would dissipate. He took the plate and picked up one of the spoons hesitantly, turning to stare at her in amazement and something else she was unable to recognize.
"You made this… for me?" Shinji stared back and forth from the cake to Asuka's face, which she effectively concealed behind her crimson bangs.
"Yeah," Asukamuttered quietly, blushing yet again and staring at her hands."Listen, I don't want you to misunderstand. This is not like those other times when I bought you stuff to try to apologize without saying so. I... I guess it was like an excuse to make myself feel better, you know? Anyway, how is it?"
Shinji blinked, taken aback yet again. He recovered and took a healthy spoonful of chocolate cake, diving into it at once. He closed his eyes and tasted the full flavors of every ingredient in the magnificent creation; every part of the cake was homemade, prepared thoroughly. He was flabbergasted, left speechless for several seconds until Asuka turned a quizzical eyebrow at him. Shinji had to blink again before he remembered he had been asked a question, so swallowing the delicious treat he voiced his honest opinion.
"I don't know that much about cakes, but this is the best I've ever had."
Asuka smiled, satisfied, and picked up the other spoon, getting herself a bite as well. "Mmm, you know, I think you're right for once, this is awesome."
The conversation was interrupted for as long as there was cake on the plate, which turned out to be less than two minutes. The taste was so irresistible that both teens gulped down the large slice in seconds. Soon they were both greedily extracting every last scrap of flavor from the spoons, both sporting identically satisfied expressions.
Asuka, however, sobered up after a moment and laid the spoon on the clean plate, where Shinji still struggled to get the last remains of homemade dressing. He looked relaxed, even content when eating. She knew Shinji loved things that were made with time, care and effort, since he himself loved to cook fine meals.
"I… I really didn't mean it, Shinji." Shinji stopped in his endeavor to glace questioningly at Asuka, who again chose to take interest in her own hands. "I didn't mean for things to escalate so far, I… sometimes it's just…. hard to control myself. I just get so angry and- and I'm so used to lashing out at you that… I just black out and when I realize what I just did, it's already too late because it's something terrible and I want to apologize but I can't… I can't because I'm afraid you won't forgive me and leave. I… I was so scared, Shinji."
She looked at him at last, feeling a couple of burning tears escape her eyes. "You were just lying there, you weren't even breathing... There was so much blood on the floor and I just kept thinking 'you killed him, you finally went too far you stupid, crazy bitch'. I was so scared I didn't stop shaking for three hours, I was so afraid you'd die, and all this time I kept feeling like that, like I went too far, then I found out how you felt, how I made you feel."
Shinji's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape as he listened, unable to utter any word of comfort for her. His eyes, however wide, never left her own.
"I'm sorry. I am. I said it to you before, but I didn't understand then, I just felt like shit and needed something to make me feel less like a crazy freak, but this time I mean it, Shinji. I can't promise you I won't yell, or that I'll stop being a bitch, that's all I know how to be. I can't help it if I'm so insufferable, but... but I won't hurt you like that ever again, that I can promise." She smiled at him between the stray tears that fell every now and then. It no longer felt weird to cry in front of him.
Shinji smiled back, and once again the right words found their way to his mouth. "I like who you are."
Asuka lifted an unbelieving eyebrow at him, resisting the urge to giggle. "You have a fucked-up taste, Ikari," she answered, smirking at him playfully.
"True, but I'm nuts, remember? I think it's kind of fitting I like crazy people better."
Somewhere inside the house the phone rang, but neither paid much mind to it. Instead, in a rare spurt of either random confidence or subconscious suicidal desire, Shinji took hold of Asuka's hand. It seemed like the fitting action, the right thing to do given the circumstances. They both felt more at peace when in each other's company; empathy was but a small part of the bond that seemed to strengthen with each passing day. A bond that had kept Asuka from fleeing to Germany at the first chance she had, the same bond that had kept Shinji from killing himself so many times before.
So they lay there, in comfortable silence, enjoying the light contact of their intertwined fingers. For now, it was more than enough. The ringing stopped inside the house, followed by the incoherent howls of complaint coming from their guardian's chambers, but they remained oblivious to it, feeling safe and at home in that small room of that small apartment in what was soon to be New Tokyo 3. They felt content, for once.
Misato stared disbelievingly at the phone, as if it was the object's responsibility that the information she had just received was so shocking. Of all the people she hoped would return from the Sea of Goo, the woman had never once thought she'd see Rei again. She had been thoroughly convinced of such fact when she had laid eyes upon the severed head of a smirking giant Rei, but now Section Two had just informed her the girl had been spotted in a vegetarian diner and brought back to HQ, where she was being debriefed and had been placed in a comfortable room to sleep in for the night.
She kept staring at the phone as a smile gradually drew over her face. Shinji would be so happy! She quietly and masterfully slid through the apartment, peeking into Shinji's open door. She found both of her charges sitting beside each other, sleeping and holding hands. Asuka, ever so perceptive, heard her footsteps and cracked an eye open to glare at the intruder with passion. Misato herself made the universal "I'm watching you" sign and went back to her room, leaving the youths to their own devices and teenage hormones, knowing very well Asuka would not dare do anything improper.
She chose to tell Shinji in the morning, good news could wait, after all.
To Be Continued…
Inspirational Music: This Is The Place, Venice Qeen-Red Hot Chilli Peppers; Solitude, Planet Caravan-Black Sabbath; Whereever I May Roam, For Whom The Bell Tolls-Metallica; I'm The Man, We Bring The Shake, Liar-Mötorhead; Sanvean, I Can See Now-Dead Can Dance.
I'd like to thank MisterHalt from the bottom of my heart for helping me proof and improve this chapter! Love you, my brother!
AN: Well, I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chappy! Pretty long, huh? Consider it my apology for keeping you waiting for all this time, I decided to lay off the heavy angst on this chappy, just a bit here and there, but fear not, next chapter shall be darker, better, longer and more terrifying! Just kidding, but it will be a bit darker. Well, be sure to let me know how you're liking the story so far, remembe to stay healthy and eat your veggies! Thank you very much!
PEACE