AN: Read at your own risk. Chappie has been revised. Skal.
You have been warned.
I own nothing.
Scar Tissue
Chapter Seventeen; Act Sixteen: Spit out the Bone
The lids of his undamaged eye opened ever so slightly, trying not to flinch at the sudden intrusion of brightness.
It was beginning to dawn on him that these people, these men and women who had been running and charging and barking orders at one another in obvious panic before, they were close to doomed. Did they not know about Katsuragi Misato? Did they not know a single person in Tokyo, hell, in Japan never so much as took a breath without her knowing about it? Were these fools even aware of the consequences of their actions? It appeared not, sadly enough. It seemed the well known rumors about Misato disbanding about five militias, stopping two civil wars, and personally killing more than ten people in three months had never reached their ears. Now they had majorly fucked up, attempting to sell him and his friends off to SEELE in the hope of some sort of salvation from their assured demise, whilst ignoring the wrath of NERV's Sub-Commander.
Behind the bloodied gag keeping him quiet, Touji smiled savagely.
January the First, 2017. Undisclosed Location, Japan.
It had been a normal afternoon; Hikari, Kensuke and Toji had returned from Asuka's Sylvester's celebration -German New Year- accompanied by a large entourage of body guards and full bellies when it happened. The cars had been surrounded, the bodyguards and soldiers killed due to number majority, and the three of them shoved, beaten, gagged and electrocuted to keep them quiet. The memory of the men grabbing Hikari, slamming her against the ground and binding her hands while a woman sat on her and pushed her knee into the girl's nape made him growl; the sound in the otherwise deadly quiet, run down building blessedly did not alert the ten people watching over them.
The screams from before had turned into deadly silence once they had reached…wherever this place was. Dark, wooden walls corroded with mold and humidity stains painted his limited field of vision. There was a single door on either side of what appeared to be the ruins of an old living room, a white ceiling with pieces falling off it, and a single light bulb to illuminate the scenery. Two men stood beside the entrance, both armed with rifles and handguns; two more sat on the floor while they played checkers, smoked and drank; a woman sat to the right of Hikari's unconscious form; three more moved about on the room, checking their cell phones every couple of seconds; a man drank, a weapon beside him, on Hikari's left, leering at the girl with every swig of the bottle.
One boy no older than himself, yet larger and thicker, stood leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, never speaking a word. He was the one person with his face unmasked. Dark, sun-burnt skin, prominent cheekbones, black eyebrows, black hair; his mind memorized it all.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," Touji heard one of the three wandering men mutter. "They haven't answered. It's almost time… if we don't move out of here we're dead meat!"
He listened, pretending to be unconscious.
"Calm your tits, pussy. We don't move until the Prince pays us. Once we have the money, we hand the brats to them fuckers waiting at the peer and go our separate ways."
"Oh, yeah?! Don't you know about Katsuragi?! She knifed a man fifteen times to get information on who was planning to kill the EVA pilots in those shacks! I saw it, man! She eviscerated that motherfucker without a second thought!"
Even to his numb ears, Touji recognized panic in the man's voice.
"We have forty five trained soldiers guarding this building, systems blocking the satellites from triangulating our location, two tanks, five cars, and-" the man broke off to take several swigs from his bottle, "Aahh... And we have hostages. Important hostages who we could use as a human shield or bargaining chips if it ever comes to it. Relax, Nawaki, you're getting on my nerves." One of the men sitting, playing and drinking; Touji opened his one useful eye to ensure his suspicions were correct. He quickly stole a glance at the male sitting next to Hikari, and bit down on the gag to keep himself from growling out loud. The brute's glances were becoming much more frequent.
"Shit, but why haven't they contacted us? Doesn't it make you guys even a little uncomfortable? That fucking red robot could squash this entire block any second now!"
Touji had to actively keep himself from laughing out loud. The man's frightened statement rang true, after all; Asuka would certainly not hesitate to turn them all into human puree with one of those deadly kicks of hers, hell, she was probably on her way now.
"The Prince provided all this for us," the woman commented, knife in hand. She used the tip of the blade to clean her fingernails and occasionally threw annoyed glances at the beast of a man sprawled in her vicinity. "He wouldn't go through all this trouble just to have us captured and executed. It's barely been two hours and you're already shitting your pants. Relax."
Touji's left eye was swollen shut; he had tried to resist and managed to smack the big brute right on the chin with a kick and punch his neck with viciousness, the small act of valor had cost him some fingers on his right hand, which the man had squashed under his heel once Touji had been brought down to the ground by about four of them, and his eye. Through the gag, he tried to make sure all of his teeth were still in their place, all the while taking cautious glances at the group.
The man who kept panicking quieted down some, ceasing his endless walking, while the other two continued to send and receive updates on their phones. Kensuke lay on the ground with both hands and feet tied and half of his face covered in dried blood. A good portion of the boy's hair was bloodied as well, yet it calmed Touji to see his friend's chest rise and fall in a regular pattern. Kensuke had taken the worst of it, taunting the men for minutes on end until the big brute had slammed a chunk of debris on his friend's head. The fuckers… Shinji would strangle them all for it.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, the panicking man licked his lips. The confined area made every sound all the more clear, so when the man gulped and shakily took a breath, the jock was able to hear it from the chair he was tied to. "You don't get it, you guys," the man stated. "I lived in a shack near theirs for a while… these people are fucked. That girl would beat on the boy without mercy and still he'd go on every day to get food for her… and Katsuragi… don't even get me started on that again."
"Shut up," grated the man who sat and drank alone. Touji blinked in surprise and was instantly alert; the man had not spoken until that moment. "You're ruining my view with your shit. I couldn't care less if that big-titted bitch is on her way right now, all I care about… is having a taste of that."
The man motioned his head in Hikari's direction. Touji's breathing began to become frantic. Sohryu, his mind irrationally begged, thinking of the last possible person who would have any interest or reason in rescuing him. Hurry the hell up! Hurry!
"You sick, pedophile sack of shit," one of the men guarding the door let out a loud bark. "That's how they got you to sign up for this?"
The brute chuckled in deep, grating tones that made Touji's skin crawl. "Damn right, I don't much care about the money. Imagine: fucking the Second Child's best friend, making a video of it and sending it to that redheaded bitch. Imagine how easy it'll be to catch her then, all unbalanced and angry and worried. Imagine how useless she'll feel once she sees how I make this little girl my plaything. Imagine how pleased SEELE will be." The man stood, taking a long drink and Touji's head craned in Hikari's direction despite his subconscious attempt to remain quiet and pretend he was still passed out. Suddenly, the sound of his own heartbeat was drumming against his temple. "I like them young and innocent, just like her."
"You shouldn't do that," warned one of the men checking their phones. "They might pay us less if the brats are damaged."
"Pff, right," the brute answered, and crouched next to Hikari's unconscious form. "They're paying us to take them alive, and we did. I'm not gonna kill her, I'll just make a real woman out of her."
The female spat next to the brute's feet. "You disgust me, but as long as I get paid, I don't really give a shit what you do. It'd be kind of interesting, honestly. I can record while you do your thing, then send the video to NERV, then when the operation starts the brats won't be able to focus. We've still got another hour to kill."
The group, with the exception of the panicking man and the boy leaning against the wall, laughed in unison at the idea of raping an innocent girl. Touji started to growl, loudly. The strength gradually returned to his aching muscles while adrenaline fueled his chest with what felt like fire. His molars ground the dirty rag covering his mouth and slowly began to chew out the worn material.
"That's the spirit, folks!" the large man said as he stood once more and began unfastening his belt. "Get ready for the show. Sandy, dear, be a sweetheart and wake her up for me."
Touji watched in horror as the woman smiled viciously and lightly jolted his girlfriend with a taser. Hikari's eyes snapped open in fear and pain, a scream of surprised agony echoed through the gag on her own mouth while her body quaked and trembled under the electricity's effect.
"Let's face it, we all knew this was gonna happen," added the brute, grinning with crooked, yellow teeth. "It was all a matter of…" Then, the man's eyes looked straight into Touji's pupil. "Time."
With an even wider grin, he circled the boy's chair and laughed with the group as Touji thrashed against his restraints and hollered incoherent insults at them all. "Sorry? What was that?" the man asked, smacking the former pilot in the back of the head. "We can't understand you like that, kiddo. Here, let me help." Suddenly the world went black, a dead note rung in his ears for a few seconds; the pain radiating from his jaw made it clear that he had just been punched, hard. He felt the gag get ripped violently from his mouth. "Now, that's a little more like it. Consider it payment for that little kick you gave me, you shit. What were you saying again?"
"If you… touch her," Touji growled through the pain and dizziness. "I'll… kill… you…"
A chorus of laughter was his only response. "Now, now, children, let's keep quiet. We don't want to alert the feds, do we?" More laughs, if rather more controlled, which only worked to make Touji that much angrier. After raising his arms in apparent playfulness, the man spun quicker than someone his size should be able to and delivered a devastating uppercut to the boy's chin. He saw stars and felt his head bounce up and down, pain and numbness overpowering his body; it felt like his very consciousness had been severed for a few seconds.
"And how, exactly," Touji heard the man mutter in his ear while a fistful of his hair was yanked upwards. "Do you intent to stop me from fucking that girl bloody over there, huh? There's nine of us, and one of you. We're all trained elites, and you're a useless basketball player with delusions of grandeur. Too bad that other eye of yours is closed; I would've loved for you to see this with excruciating detail."
"We shouldn't do this," said Nawaki. "We should just run, all of us, right now. We could leave them here, no big damage's been done yet, we could just go, just go! Let's just get the fuck out of here! Don't make this any worse by damaging that girl, Oki!"
"You really are as bitch-made as they say, huh?" the woman answered, and then laughed out loud at the soldier's expense. "What's wrong with a little fun? Have you seen the world we live in, the world that little shit brought us back to?! Everything's dead, everything's fucked! People kill each other in other countries to this day just to get some food, and as soon as governments came back they started to want to come here and take that monster away to conquer the fucking globe! You think they'll stop? We gotta be on the winning side, here, dumbass! What's wrong with making the guilty bastards pay by 'damaging' their friends, huh? How many people did you lose in the Angel War, Nawaki? How many in Third Impact?!" The knife embedded itself on the floor as the woman stood. "Fuck it! Let Oki have his fun, and maybe while you watch, you can grow a pair, you spineless little girl."
Oki cracked his knuckles and punched Touji twice in his swollen mouth, making the half-dried scab on the side bleed anew. "When a woman tells you to grow a pair, you really need to assess your manhood, snot. On a more serious note, if you try to stop me, or keep whining like a princess, I'll shove my knife so far up your ass you'll wish you were this little girl. Got it, Nawaki?"
"You… stupid… bastards." Blood and spit oozed from Touji's mouth while his brain recoiled from the damage, but he refused to fall asleep. He glared at the group with vehemence and spat pout a crimson glob with what he assumed was a molar. "Misato-san will take her time… killing all of you… and you better hope… she doesn't let me help…"
Again, a massive hand grabbed his hair and pushed the boy's head up. Oki removed his mask, letting him see the twisted features of what appeared to be a man in his forties, with graying hair around the forehead and a crooked, pointy nose with squinting, small eyes. "I'd knock you out," the man muttered. "But it kinda turns me on to know you'll be watching as I take your girlfriend in front of you. Oru, Kamu, bind this little shit's head to the board, and tape his eyelids open."
Hikari had long since began struggling against her own restraints, crying, and attempting to get away, but every time she managed to regain her footing the woman would either drag her down by her ponytails or just plain kick her down. Unlike Kensuke, her legs had not been tied with ropes with enough force to leave marks, like it had been done to her hands. All other thoughts quickly turned to nothing, however, as the men guarding the door produced duct tape and did as instructed with brutal efficiency and what Touji thought to be practiced technique. They were, after all, the lowest shits in the world, even that brat with his eyes closed, acting too cool to be interested in any of it. They were all garbage.
"Fuck you! Fuck you! Let me go, you sick bastards! Hey, don't touch her! I'll kill you, I swear I'l kmphh-" He felt the men stick what remained of his gag in his mouth before taping it shut, being meticulous enough with his eyelids so that he could not close them, no matter how hard he tried. His attempts to bite off a finger or two had been met with knuckles to his skull and probably a fissured jaw. He struggled in vain against the restraints and for the third time in his life, felt completely and utterly useless as punches rained down upon his face. At the very least if the men were focused on him… there might still be a chance.
Hysteria quickly turned to panic while the horrid spectacle unveiled before him despite his efforts; Oki took off his shirt and crawled ever so slowly towards the corner where Hikari had been dragged to. Her eyes bulged in fear and helplessness when a gnarled hand took hold of her leg and dragged her across the ground. The sound of her clothes ripping sent Touji into a crazed frenzy; all for naught, for the two men held him down and every now and then grabbed his broken hand and squeezed without mercy.
"Come here, you sweet little cherry blossom," the brute grated. Hikari trembled underneath him, her terrified gaze shifting between Touji and the large man she lay under. Oki grinned and pulled at her hair, looking straight at him as he lopped his tongue all over the girl's tear stained cheek. "Salty and delicious. Aren't you a lovely little thing?"
Touji's crazed eye went from one person to the other, tears ran down his cheeks and his eye socket burned with the strain of not being able to even blink. In the midst of gleeful smiles, laughs and the one terrified stare of Nawaki, Touji saw the boy open his eyes for once and offer him a tiny, sinister smile.
When the one healthy eye made its way to the brute on top of Hikari, his heart began to drum heavily against his chest; the man was ripping off Hikari's underwear with savage movements while the crowd cheered and his bulging erection rubbed on the girl's naked form. He screamed through the gag, fought to at the very least headbutt one of the men holding him, and was quickly overcome by helplessness and absolute horror. Was it… was it truly going to happen? Was he truly so tiny and useless?
In a vain attempt to escape, Hikari managed to kick the man on his already bruised chin and force him to bite his lip. He gave the terrified girl a bloodied smile, and to both their horror, easily split her legs apart. "A little fight in you, huh," he breathed on her neck while he groped her breasts. "I like that."
"Then you're gonna love me."
The boy, the one with his face unmasked, finally spoke up. The mercenaries, focused as they were on the brute's actions, didn't seem to hear him. The boy checked his watch, pushed himself off the wall and put a finger to his lips, as if to signal Touji to be quiet. Sinister smile ever present, he seemingly approached the scene so as to get a better view, grabbing the knife from where Sandy had thrown it. Once the man and young girl lay before him, however, the boy moved with unreadable speed and stabbed Oki in his right gluteus, then twisted the knife with glee and slammed a foot into the man's midsection. Oki jumped away almost instantly while screams of pain echoed around the building and blood dripped onto the ground. When the brute took hold of the knife to pull it out, the boy gave him a savage kick to the temple, one akin to those terrifying kicks Asuka was so easily able to produce. Oki fell heavily on the floor next to Hikari's now bloodied and terrified naked body, knocked out.
Eight barrels pointed right at him, yet the boy only laughed lightly.
"What in the fuck, Rus?!" the woman screamed, ripping off her own mask. "Have you gone completely insane?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
"Give us one good reason not to blow your fucking head off right now, brat," one of the men who had been holding Touji coldly demanded. The boy only chuckled more; from a distance, the jock's battered brain recognized the sound of gunfire in the background.
"Talk about shoving a knife up your ass, huh," he said with another chuckle and a thick accent rolling off his tongue. "You hear that? That's the sound of NERV cleaning up all of your men like one would swat away flies in the tropics. This room has been scanned and they know the hostages are being held here; shoot once, and every single one of us dies under heavy gunfire and what's probably a giant red hand. Now, feel that?"
Touji did, despite being tied up, gagged and weakened as he was. The earth quaked and rumbled once, twice, thrice. "That is the sound of an angry young pair of warriors piloting a two hundred meter tall destructive, god-like machine, and it's coming towards us."
"How did they…" The panicking man, Nawaki, said while both his weapon and body trembled in fear. "How did they know we were here?"
"Easy queasy, I told them. See this right here?" The boy held up a small, rectangular metal object which Touji immediately recognized. "Although I did manage to disarm these tracers, Katsuragi Misato is one of the best at hunting people down through these, even after we burn them or destroy them. She found our location about…" He checked his watch, completely unfazed at the many rifles and pistols aimed at him. "Forty minutes ago!"
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I told you, you fucking idiots, I told you this wasn't gonna work!" Nawaki screamed in distress.
"Shut the fuck up!" the second largest of them shouted back, enraged. He loaded the rifle and aimed at the boy's head. "If we're all dead anyway then it's all the same if I blow your fucking brains out right here, kid."
Instantly, a weapon found itself pressed against the man's own temple. "Fuck that, you hear me? You can go and die however you please, but I'm not dying in this shithole, not when SEELE already transferred the money to us!" He put his cell phone to the larger solder's face. "Look! It's all there, it's done! All we have to do is get these brats out of here and to the pier! That's two minutes! I'm sure SEELE has a way out!" The rifle then pointed at the boy, who had since produced his own knife and was absently staring at the blade. "You! What do you want, huh?! Just tell us! A bigger cut, that it? You got it, I'll give you half of mine, let's just get the fuck out of here!"
"Oh, you poor, dumb fools." Taking a deep breath, the boy's brown eyes gazed at Touji. "You broke Suzuhara Touji's hand, probably broke his jaw, and Aida Kensuke most likely has a slight concussion. Not only that, you all just stood there and watched while this innocent young girl was about to be raped. That's Asuka's friend, you know. And these boys, they're Shinji's friends."
"Cut the bullshit, you crazy fuck!" Sandy screamed and scanned her immediate surroundings; both the sound of gunfire and the heavy steps felt closer. "What do you want?!"
"Well, that's easy. I want to play." The boy craned his neck and stretched arms too thick to belong to someone his age; furthermore, as joints cracked and arms extended to the ceiling, Touji caught a glimpse of the horrid, twisted masses of scar on his shoulders. "You see, I'm about to have a very important fight, and I'd love to do some warm-ups since it's been a while since my last good, honest brawl. As I told you, one bullet goes flying in here, and we're all dead. So… no guns. You, all of you, against me. Whoever survives, wins. You kill me, run out of here as fast as you can and get to the pier, you can still make it. I'd say you have about-" upon checking his watch again, the boy grinned. "-ten minutes."
"Fine by me, you're just a little brat," the large man said, dropping his rifle to the ground and instantly taking out a large assault knife. "I'll be done with you in ten seconds."
"No, no, no," the boy interrupted quickly, motioning with his own small, rusted knife. "No, it's all of you, against me. We have a deal, ladies and gentlemen?"
The mercenaries exchanged looks, and to Touji's surprise, nodded and lowered their weapons, each producing their own weapon and getting ready to attack. Even Nawaki shakily produced a blade and assumed a defensive position, body shaking like a leaf under the wind.
The boy merely grinned. "Little girl, I'd advise you to close your eyes real tight now, and try to scream as loudly as you can too. You know, to drown out the screams of these fucking degenerates as they die."
"You're pretty damn confident, little shit," said Sandy, wielding a katana. "We're all trained elites, Special Forces, and what are you? Some stupid little freak SEELE forced us to drag along to deactivate the trackers, and you couldn't even do that! We'll rip out your guts."
The boy howled with disturbing laughter.
"SEELE never bets on the losing side, you dumb bitch. And right now, SEELE is one person. But enough chit-chat." The knife in his hand went flying and found a comfortable home in Nawaki's throat. The man instantly began to choke on his own blood and thrash about, grabbing onto the shirts of men who simply shrugged him off as he fell down. "You really should've listened to that one."
And so, it began.
Touji had never seen blood splatter and fly from a wound akin to a fountain before, had never seen a true knife-fight in his life. Sure, he had read manga and seen movies, but the reality of it was far different from those little action sequences. In truth, there was not a wasted movement on either side, every time someone approached the boy, they did so with extreme caution and targeted only vital areas. The boy, however, seemed to anticipate their actions and dodged just in the nick of time to counter every single move with his own lethal attacks. He dodged the large man's right-handed slash, kicked his knee while the man was in mid-swing, took the arm holding the weapon and snapped it while he dodged the katana's tip and received a cut on the cheek. A diagonal cut intended to connect with the boy's head instead took out half of the large man's shoulder.
A brutal, final slash and the second tallest man in the group fell to the ground, clutching a neck that splattered blood all the way to Touji's chair. Bound as he was, Touji was unable to look away. The boy stabbed the woman in the side, elbowed her in the face, then dodged from underneath a solder's leg and cut just under his groin. Without losing momentum he stood back up and opened a second man's throat from ear to ear.
The mercenaries kicked, slashed and moved in unison, managing to knock down and cut the boy more than once, yet he fought just as easily on the ground or stood back up, grinning even wider and spitting pinkish globs on the ground. He defended and delivered quick, curt stabs to a man's back while using him as a shield to evade a taser gun's wires coming his way.
So it went. One by one the once large group of mercenaries fell to the ground clutching their throats, arms or midsections. The boy danced around the blades, twisted the opponent's wrists with ease and disarmed them. He attacked just as flawlessly and stabbed around the neck, the arteries, the tendons, but avoided killing them instantly. Nobody died, or at the very least not quickly; the attacks were aimed to maim, immobilize and prolong the slow agony of death all the more.
After less than six of the promised ten minutes only four remained of the original nine, including the unconscious brute on the floor with a knife in his ass. The woman, Sandy, was sporting a fresh slash to her side and holding a hand over a puncture wound where Touji assumed her liver to be. The two other men, the ones who had held him down, threw frantic stares at one another, as if trying to decide who would dash in first.
Almost completely covered in blood and with a knife in each hand, the boy grinned wide. "So, weren't you gonna gut me, Sandy? That little wound right there looks painful; you know the liver hurts like a bitch when stabbed? Why don't you run along and save your skin? Hell, I'll even let you take one of the brats with you." Touji's eye watched with growing dread as the boy dropped both blades and extended his arms. "I do like a moving target, makes the hunt feel more… alive."
Sandy spat out blood on the ground. "Fuck off… you freak…"
"Who the fuck are you?" Oru screamed, eyes frantic and breathing ragged. "What's your end game here, huh? NERV's gonna be here any second!"
"I told you: I want to play. I only came along to kill a little time, and make sure the Prince doesn't intervene with my careful machinations. And if you must know, I'm just an artist." Oru lost his nerve and dashed forward, slashing diagonally in an attempt to stab the boy in the neck, chest or legs. His opponent gracefully dodged, unarmed, until Oru swung a little too wide and left his body open. With unnatural strength the boy dug his knee into the man's left side, took his arm in what Touji knew to be a Kimura hold and snapped it at the elbow. Seconds afterwards, Oru's knee tendons had been severed and his own knife was struck in the man's gut, right through the bullet-proof vest.
Sandy took a careful step back; the room suddenly felt very small to Touji, and even through Hikari's panicked screaming he was able to discern the young killer's next words. "You stupid, greedy bastards. I promised a certain person that nobody would interfere with him until the time of reckoning came." With a vicious snarl, he tore off Oru's vest, extracted the knife from the man's gut and opened the wound enough to make the man's entrails gush out. "You're making a liar out of me. Because of that, you're all gonna die right here, slowly, painfully, and I'll be taking all of your money."
"Spare me the bullshit," Sandy spat again, looking paler by the second. Her hand trembled trying to hold the katana steady; she had been able to open a wound on the brat's ankle and another near the tendons of his forearm, yet the wounds seemed to not bother, nor hinder him at all. "What are you… some twisted fucking Robin Hood?!"
"Nothing noble as that." Smirking impossibly wide and staring directly at Touji once more, the boy shrugged. "I'm just a man of my word."
Touji was witness to the effective way in which the boy side-stepped to the woman's right side, ducked a slash aiming for his head and dug the knife deep into her stomach, then he twisted, took it out, and stabbed her once more. Sandy fell hard on the ground, crimson coming out of her mouth in heavy coughs and she rolled, unable to breathe or move. The katana rolled out of her hand.
"The stomach bleeds and bleeds; trust me, I know from experience. Now, only you and me, money man. You can even use that pistol, there's only the two of us and look-" the boy once again extended his hands, "-I'm unarmed. The only question here is… who's quicker? Me getting to you, or you getting to your gun?"
The man's hand shook not unlike Nawaki's, who was still wheezing and dying ever so slowly on the ground. At some point, Hikari's voice died down, and only hitched sobs, tearful prayers to different deities and grunts of pain reverberated though the wooden hall. In a flash Touji saw the last remaining soldier drop the knife and go for his sidearm, but was too slow; or more accurately, the boy was too quick.
Touji had only ever seen such speed during Asuka's spars with Rei; in less than a second the boy had closed the distance between them, slammed his elbow into the soldier's temple, broken the arm trying to get a hold of the pistol, tripped him with some sort of advanced martial arts takedown, and began mercilessly hitting the man's nose with both his fist and elbow. The sound of cartilage and bone being broken was made all the more sickening as Touji watched the man's face get reduced to a reddened mass of knotted flesh. With a final savage blow the boy let the body fall to the ground and took a deep, calming breath.
"And then there's him." Stained, bloody hands made to grab Touji, to which he responded with yet another desperate but useless struggle. The warmth of the soldiers' blood felt scalding on his cheek as the boy took a hold of his head. "Shh, shh, shh, relax, relaaax, Suzuhara. I'm not gonna hurt ya, kid, not yet at least. Stay still for a second."
Piercing pain invaded his numb mind; the boy removed the pieces of taping holding his eyelids open with enough force to rip out his eyelashes and brow. "There, all better now. Now you can really watch the show. That shit right there tried to rape your woman. What's worse, he touched her. Can you believe that? He lied, he said he was done with the raping, and look," he pointed at the naked, unconscious man with a knife still protruding from his asscheek. "I don't like liars, and I especially don't like rapists. Brings back old memories, you know? Nobody wants that."
Water was then poured all over Touji's face, washing away the blood and grime of the past few hours. Sadly, none of it reached his still taped mouth. He noticed, once his eye was able to rest for a few precious seconds, that the woman, Sandy, was slowly crawling on the ground to one of the fallen rifles, even with two gaping wounds in her gut. Paying no mind to the incoming danger, the boy took the fallen taser off the floor and walked over to where Oki lay, where he twisted the knife and pulled it out, only to then electrocute the man enough to wake him.
New, fresh screams of pain invaded the small room; the gunshots coming closer and closer. Even Touji's chair bounced with the cautious approach of what he knew to be Unit 02. "Nice and fresh, Oki?"
The man snarled; half-naked as he was and with a deranged look on his face, he took the next available weapon, Sandy's fallen katana, and hurled himself at the boy with another bestial bellow. Touji's apparent savior easily dodged the slash, kicked the man's knee to make him buckle and with the same leg kicked him in the face. Oki fell, but stood up again to launch a disarrayed series of attacks in the boy's general direction. Once he evaded a downward slash made to open him from neck to groin, the boy jumped, used the man's own body to propel himself higher and kicked Oki in the nose, savagely breaking it with a loud enough sound to hear.
Again the largest soldier in the group fell hard on the floor; this time the boy wasted no time, he ran towards Nawaki's weak and pale form and took the small, rusty knife. He danced circles around the maddened brute and stabbed here and there quick as lightning, akin to a bullfighter weakening his prey. In seconds the man was covered in his own blood; three times had he tried to get to a rifle and it had cost him the tendons on his right knee, left wrist and right forearm. He spat unrecognizable curses while blood dripped from his mouth, tried to stand on one leg and launch his enormous body upwards, but was always met with meticulous stabs in his midsection and piercing kicks and punches to his already broken nose.
"You ever heard of Lingchi, Oki-san?" The man vomited bile and blood after a devastating punch to the base of his mangled stomach. "Death by a thousand cuts, reserved only for the lowest scum in ancient China. Sadly, we don't have the time, so maybe in another life. In about a minute or two your guards are gonna come bursting in here, scared to death, and then they'll be killed instantly by NERV." Oki tried to crawl on all fours toward the rifle laying next to Hikari's pale, shaking form. Before he could even get close, however, the boy grabbed his genitals and viciously gelded the man with powerful, brutal slashes unlike the precision cutting he'd been doing before. Try as he might, Touji could not look away; he was smiling under the tape, smiling in a way he never had before. The anguished howls of pain were music to his ears.
"I can't just let you bleed out like the others, you know." The boy cut the tendon in Oki's left knee, took the katana and sliced off his left forearm altogether. The man's face made another gruesome noise as it impacted the ground. "Hey, little girl," he said to Hikari, who now stared with wide, terrified eyes at the macabre sight. "This man who touched you, so he's gonna die right now. Look."
The boy began cutting through Oki's thick neck, minding to keep his windpipe for last, slicing away the tissue surrounding the nape while blood coated what little remained of a once brown floor. Once he got to the bone, and the brute stopped moving at last save for the occasional wheeze or twitch, he cut the remaining veins and arteries and had the man stay still. With a brutal slash, the boy twisted the severed head twice and yanked one last time to detach it completely. He offered the mass of dripping flesh as a grim gift, accompanied by what Touji knew to be an insane grin. "Here. Look. He's dead."
The head dropped in front of his girlfriend, and for the longest time the girl's shocked gaze stared right into the dead eyes that faced her. From whatever was left of his vision, Touji managed to recognize an ugly, frightened frown take over his precious Hikari's pretty face. Her eyes never moved from the head laying in front of her.
Suddenly, the sound of a gun being loaded redirected their attention. Sandy lay on the ground, bleeding heavily while she held an assault rifle and pointed directly at Hikari's face. The boy in turn smiled with apparent ease.
"Not… guh…gonna die… alone," The woman muttered, coughing and trying desperately to make her numb hands obey and pull the trigger. "Tuh… taking her… with me…"
"Oh, I hardly think so, don't you agree, Kensuke?"
The woman's eyes widened; she looked behind her a bit too late. With half his face covered in blood, both arms and legs bound, Kensuke had managed to stand and grab a rifle. He drove the rifle's stock directly in the woman's face three times until her lifeless hands let her weapon fall to the ground. She began wheezing and muttering incoherently; Touji watched as Kensuke carefully crouched to stare directly at her face. "You were gonna make a film about my friend being raped, weren't you?" the bespectacled boy shakily said, clearly still in shock yet angered beyond sanity or fear. "I'm a fan of filming myself, so for the sake of posterity; let me record your slow trip to hell." And so, Kensuke picked up the woman's broken phone and placed it in front of her widened, tearful eyes. "Here, smile, you're dying."
A sudden bark of mirth drove the young ones' attention back to the only surviving member of the entourage, who was now holding his stomach and roaring with deranged laughter. "Oh fuck, that line was priceless! Nicely done, my EVA otaku friend," He checked his watch again, threw a knife at Kensuke's feet and smiled widely at them all, still giggling like a madman. "Well, time's up. I take my leave of you. I'd say I'm sorry for what happened, but it will only make my plan work all the better, and I did enjoy everything on this road trip until the rape part. No permanent damage done anyway, right? So, take care, and do tell Shinji Ikari this..." The boy kicked the door beside Hikari open, then bowed and offered some strange form of artistic salute. "I'm a man of my word."
Touji's shoulders felt somewhat loose the moment the door closed, yet the momentary peace was shattered when the entrance exploded and three frantic, armed men came in the room.
"Boss, boss, they got us, the fuckers! They ain't even taking any… prisoners…" The soldiers' faces twisted in terror when the scenery of their butchered, crippled leaders welcomed them. "What the f-"
BANG. BANG, BANG.
Three bodies fell to the floor as Misato came rushing in the room, gun in hand. The ceiling exploded as though it had been swiped away, scorching light illuminating the scene, then suddenly the shadow of a giant loomed over them all, with four green eyes that shone just as brightly as the sun that rendered Touji positively blind and illogically happy. From afar, he heard the sound of men entering the room and yelling orders at each other, the distinctive, acrid smell of vomit as both Hikari and Kensuke retched on the floor, shaken at last from their shock, and the massive speaker ensuring he was also deaf.
"Touji?!" Shinji's voice was loud enough to make him flinch. "Are you ok?!"
While someone carefully cut and undid the bindings around his head and face, the jock produced a strained cough that was meant to be some sort of laughter. He heard the sound of Shinji's head being softly bopped through the Comm, only to hear the speaker again at a much quieter volume with the familiar tone of a certain redhead.
"You're gonna make them deaf, Idiot," Asuka said; the behemoth's head was all but meters away from them, the mecha itself was crouched on the street, looking straight at them. Touji's limbs and mouth were freed and some precious, delicious water was poured down his throat. When he stopped coughing, he produced a shaky thumbs up with his healthy hand. "T-The Red Devil," he muttered as Misato slowly helped him stand on shaky, uneven feet. "What took you… so damn... long?"
He had heard a story once, perhaps a week before his family had been granted an apartment, while they still lived in those stinky tents and struggled every day to obtain the most basic necessities for his precious little sister. The Red Devil of Germany, the Second Child, genius extraordinaire they called her; those foolish, gullible turds who ran the shops where all the illegal trading took place, where Shinji was often harassed. She had crafted distillers and desalination kits when the population began to grow, ensuring a supply of usable water. If the story was to be believed, Asuka had helped design an improvised power plant that gave electricity to a whole section of the UN shacks, thus enabling more work and reconstruction. Furthermore, her intervention with the water distillers and help with the logistic of putting a half-destroyed solar panel to work had facilitated the construction of what had once been their improvised central market. Yet despite all her contributions, people feared her presence. By order of both Misato and the UN soldiers, she was to be escorted by armed guards, since she was of great importance to the betterment of basic living conditions for the ever-increasing returnee population.
Her temper was a great deterrent for most of them; Asuka had a seemingly permanent bad mood and would not hesitate to punch or kick someone who irked her in even the slightest of ways. She had even made a habit out of carrying a bat around. Yet the trigger-temper and violent behavior had not been the reason for her nickname. No, if the tale was to be believed, she had earned the nickname by single-handedly hunting down the people who shunned and attacked Shinji during the day. She would break their bones with her bat, threaten to cut of their water and power supply, and demand he be given whatever he ask for, or else.
There was another, shorter and less interesting bit of gossip that came to mind once the speakers rendered him completely deaf and Shinji asked again and again whether they were fine or not. It was little more than a tale, something someone had seen and passed it along, and like gossip, it had morphed and taken on new dimensions whenever he had asked about the particular incident. One returnee had told him once, on the day he had found out that Shinji, Misato and Asuka were alive, that Shinji had basically beaten a man half to death with a pipe about a week after the UN had arrived. No particular reason, no provocation, Shinji had simply attacked the man so suddenly that nobody had managed an appropriate response.
It was strange how just before he surrendered to the blinding headache, nausea and drowsiness, he remembered these weird tales. It did however suit Sohryu, the nickname. Asuka certainly could behave like a demon most of the time, and yet…
"Touji? Touji?" Shinji's voice made him chortle, to his damaged jaws' displeasure. "The Shin-Man and the Red Devil…" He stared right into the four unblinking eyes. " 'S fine, Shin-man, I'm good…"
"Relax Touji, you're safe now," Misato whispered in his ear; his eye suddenly felt very, very heavy. "We've got you."
"I knew… you'd come… Mi… Misato…san…" he muttered and with whatever strength left in his body, offered a shaky, bloodied smile. "You guys... always… had us…"
Blackness engulfed him, and too exhausted to fight back, Touji was drawn into a deep, dreamless slumber.
January 3rd, 2017. NERV Medical Bay. 10.44pm
Trauma and post-traumatic stress were subjects Asuka could write entire books on, should it ever come to it. There were about two more people in Japan, and probably a few hundred around the world at large whose life was as hellish as hers. Shinji of course had had it far worse than her, and yet when she tried to picture nice little Hikari being manhandled, mistreated and groped, the brain did not compute. The cold part of her reasoned that all humans suffered, good or bad; life was simply uncaring of one's personal circumstances and presented trauma and pain ahead in whichever way imaginable. Hikari though… she was too nice, too friendly and protective and loving and doting, Hikari did not deserve to go through such a horrible experience at the tender age of fourteen. Something felt wrong; everything about the concept felt wrong in her brain.
Most of the people present at the scene had grimaced at the sight of the man's butchered and castrated body, with its countless stab wounds and slashes and intestines on the floor; rightful justice as far as Asuka was concerned. She was hard and uncaring, at her young age, and was comfortable with it. Most of what was inside of Shinji, part of the immense dormant power, knowledge and trauma, was human pain. Shinji empathized, she did not; it was as simple as that. There were a very limited number of people who she cared for in the world; Asuka truly doubted she would be tormented by guilt if she ever killed anyone to protect them.
Another reasonable part of her brain remembered quite clearly that she had, indeed, killed people before, and been in such an ecstasy of happiness and bliss she had forgotten that the planes and tanks exploding in her vicinity were piloted by humans. She could not exactly pinpoint the sensation of actually killing someone, and the dark thought made her somewhat uncomfortable.
Her right hand flexed. She had almost killed someone quite recently in fact, and the sensation of his skin on her knuckles had been foul enough to make her vomit repeatedly over many months. She knew hatred, true hatred, not the foolish anger disguised in self-loathing and insecurity she had hurled at Shinji for what felt like years now; this was true, putrid hatred. She hated that man who had touched Hikari, hated him enough to wish he wasn't dead, if only to send him to hell herself. She had truly hated Misato for months. Had it not been for the countless things the logical part of her brain knew Misato had done to keep them alive, and were it not for Shinji's loyalty and love towards the Sub-Commander, Asuka would most likely hate her still.
Hatred came in many forms, she realized, just like… love.
She hated the man who had hurt Hikari because deep down, she considered Hikari her friend and would not stand to see her injured or traumatized; it was a simple, direct sort of hatred which awoke the primal side of her. Her hatred for Misato, on the other hand, had been born out of jealousy over her infatuation with Kaji at first. Later, as the Angel War continued and she broke, she had hated Misato for doing nothing at all to reach out and help her; her envy strengthened and boiled when she thought of Shinji, and how Misato would undoubtedly fuss and cry over him. After Third Impact, that hatred had festered and boiled as the days passed and Asuka's punishment did not come.
In the end, she had always expected Misato to either beat her to within an inch of her life, shoot her, or simply banish her from Japan, if only to let the hungry masses tear her to shreds. Just like she held no particular love towards people in general, they in turn did not hold her in a very high regard, even after all she had done in those shacks, good and bad.
Strange, how forcing herself to change for Shinji's sake more than her own had also drastically changed the way she led her life. Once, all she had ever wanted had been to have those masses worship and respect her, and when her wish had been granted and she was regarded as a hero and a savior in those shacks, Asuka had been able to see just how empty and hollow that dream had been. She had in turn dedicated the last days of her stay in the shanty town to following Shinji around and making sure whoever hurt him was met with a healthy swing of her bat. She had broken many hands, Shinji's included, and from all those many appendages, only Shinji's mattered to her and made her feel guilty. She did not particularly care for the men and women she had maimed; they had earned their punishment by deciding to damage her Shinji.
When she felt the lumps on his fingers, Asuka would call herself a fool and a monster, and then the sound of his heartbeat and the slow, healthy breaths he took would let her put those thoughts to rest.
There was also Rei, of course. Another case of hatred born of pure jealousy, only with Rei there was no confusion whatsoever. They both despised one another and would continue to do so for a simple reason: Rei deserved Shinji, not her. Rei had been kind to him, to the extent that she was able with her numerous social limitations, had worried for him, had loved him and sacrificed herself for him, and yet after all was said and done Shinji had chosen his tormentor, not his savior. Both of them also knew that there was no other way, that Shinji and Asuka simply completed each other and would in the future take the best from each other. Rei would forever hate her for it, and Asuka would in turn forever hate Rei for having something she struggled even today to establish; a clear, open bond of friendship and comfortable conversation with the boy who had managed to engrave himself on her heart.
Asuka played with the sheet's thin material, head propped on Hikari's bed, and pondered on, missing the lulling motion of the Idiot's chest while he breathed. Yes, hatred came in many ways. Love was the same, if not more complicated, confusing and less painful. Out of everything she had experienced and felt during Instrumentality and her own life, Asuka had discovered that love, pure, unbidden and pungent, was the only thing in the world that did not hurt. The sleeping young patient shifted lightly, but thankfully did not wake screaming in terror again.
It was easy for her to admit she loved Hikari to a certain extent; she loved her freckled friend who had been the first person her age to actually approach her without a hidden agenda in mind. Hikari was her friend, and she cared very much for the girl, even if she found her taste in boys to be rather sickening and pathetic.
She now loved Misato as well, in a way at least. The woman had somehow found a way to penetrate her walls and build herself a small, disarranged, beer-smelling, chaotic room in her heart. It did not mean the hatred had dissipated at all, but if Asuka was to be honest she knew Misato had more than enough reasons to throw her in jail or simply take her out to the field and blow her brains out, and yet had not. Misato had allowed her to stay with Shinji, had allowed the beginning of a slow, long path towards atonement and had been not only patient, but also doting and caring for quite some time. She was some sort of older sister or mother figure that Asuka cherished, envied and despised.
The Sub-Commander of the organization holding the country together had dropped all matters aside and dug into finding Hikari with a tenacity she had only displayed during Angel attacks before; the woman had been frighteningly efficient and quick, not giving the kidnappers even the slightest chance to escape or even survive. Misato was apparently walking her own path toward forgiveness; deep down, Asuka knew Misato craved to hear those words from her; she wanted the girl to forgive her for not punishing her, for not stopping her and not being there.
She's certainly there, now, Asuka mused, remembering that Misato was sprawled on the floor outside the room along with Shinji, gun in hand, to make sure Hikari felt safe and well guarded.
Then there was the idiot. She had told Shinji she had never truly hated him, and in a way that was true. She hated some people enough to want them dead in very painful ways but Shinji was not one of those. Nonetheless, she had relished in his pain and felt satisfaction while inflicting it on him. It had given her some sort of high which disconnected her from reality and allowed all her own feelings of worthlessness to be transmitted to someone else, namely him. It was hatred which had driven her, both for Shinji's actions and her own. She had never truly hated him, only the things he did. He had outclassed her and destroyed the frail, false self-confidence she had built up while calling herself the top pilot, while never meaning to and in fact looking up to her and admiring her from afar.
He had not reached out to her and helped her when she wanted him to, but when she had needed him to, Shinji had been there. She had been falling in love with the gentle way he spoke, the shy glances he threw her way and the pure, brilliant smile he so seldom offered for quite some time. With Shinji, things felt balanced; there was no more poison left to spew, no more self-hatred. Only the warmth of his hands and his smile.
"A-Asuka?" Hikari's gentle voice broke the redhead's train of thought. She moved uncooperative limbs towards her friend, who had since curled into a fetal position and hugged one of the pillows with vehemence. She gave Hikari a small, tired smile and moved the chair so she could face her friend.
"Hey Hikari-chan," she mumbled, with a tone ever only used in the late hours of the night when Shinji had a nasty nightmare. "How are you feeling?" Taking the girl's hand in hers, Hikari noticed the skin to be slightly cold and clammy.
"I-I'm fine, thank you," Hikari whispered, looking exhausted and terrified. Fine, my ass, thought the redhead dispassionately. "C-Can I ask you something?"
Asuka raised a tired eyebrow. "Uh, I guess? What's up?"
"When you and Shinji would… I mean…"
"When I took advantage of him, yes," Asuka finished for her, and suddenly felt gloom cloud her already bad mood. She had told the dirty secret in confidence, thoroughly unable to hold it in as her friendship with Hikari repaired itself; the worst details of how she had used Shinji sexually, however, had remained a secret. She had even told Hikari how what Shinji had done in her hospital room had been but a slip from a broken boy with nobody left to turn to, and how she in turn had tormented him over it for months. She had kissed him, touched him, and told no more of it except for the fact that Shinji could not touch her, overcome with shame as she was. Hikari suspected the worst, to be sure.
At first, Hikari had almost slapped her, and had ended up hugging her once the story had been told to the latest details involving Christmas. Their conversations had been rocky and shallow at best, but the fact that Shinji looked happier than… well, ever, apparently that was reassuring enough for her friend.
Hikari seemed chastised for a few seconds, unsure of whether to continue. Asuka huffed, holding her hand and giving it a tight squeeze. "You felt sorry for it, right?"
"Every damn time," Asuka replied. Her neck was beginning to hurt from both the stress and her current position on the bed. "I'd puke sometimes just remembering it. And then I'd go back to doing something even worse… it was a sick cycle. I wanted him to kill me, and I was terrified that he'd actually go through with it one day. It just gave me more bullshit to tell myself and throw at him, so I'd never have to actually wake up and accept…" Asuka sighed. "…life."
Hikari looked at the door where both Misato and Shinji lay sprawled in a mess of limbs and weapons, guarding her. "You're not a bad person," she said, unblinking. Asuka was immediately alerted by her sudden change in tone. "You've just done bad things… I… I've seen bad people now, really bad people, and they're nothing like you."
"Hikari," Asuka asked with worry in her voice. She was not blinking; the girl stared at the door with a dreadful, wide-eyed gaze that accentuated the dark rings around her eyes all the more. "Are you okay?"
"That man," Hikari said in monotone. "He was a bad person, Asuka-chan, he was a really bad person."
Taking the girl's hand in both her own, Asuka rose to a sitting position. "I know he was, Hikari-chan, and he's dead now."
"Yes, he's dead," Hikari agreed, brown eyes glazed over in what Asuka knew to be the slow effect of shock. "He was a very, very bad man, Asuka-chan," she continued, shaking without realizing it. "And the… boy… who killed him… was very bad too."
"The world is full of assholes and degenerates," Asuka replied somberly. "One thing the Baka didn't do was judge the wicked."
"He was touching me, Asuka."
Asuka winced as though she'd been slapped; she forced her eyes closed and frowned. Gott, Hikari. I'm glad you survived. "He was, and now he's dead."
"Is he?" Hikari's tone was quiet, small and scared. So much like a frightened, recently hospitalized Shinji, a Shinji with his ribs kicked into his lungs. "Is he really dead? I didn't dream it? I can still feel him… touching me…" Tears ever so slowly began to flow, forcing Hikari to actually blink. She felt it still, the hands of the brute running over her body, the rancid breath licking her, the nasty smile and horrible smell of the man. The laughter of his comrades as the crime was committed; if she tried only a little, she'd open her eyes and find herself in the room again, with her boyfriend beaten to a pulp, their friend bleeding from his head, and that beast of a man ready to ravish her.
"You didn't dream it," Asuka confirmed. "He's dead. Here." Producing the cell phone where the picture was stored, Asuka presented the image the coroner had provided for Misato; the picture of the man's decapitated head. "Dead, see? And even if you still feel like he's there, we'll protect you. Your family will protect you. I'll protect you. Do you understand that, Hikari-chan?"
At last, Hikari's eyes stilled on the picture. She stared at it, at the blood and the horrid expression in the dead man's face. She nodded, sniffing and trying to brush away the tears, so Asuka put the phone on the mattress and gave Hikari's hand her version of a reassuring squeeze.
"D-Did," Hikari began, licking her lips while not making eye contact. "I mean, w-when Shinji did… that, I… did you have… umm… nightmares about it?"
The question made Asuka blink and the shock of her friend's words forced her to remain quiet for quite some time as she massaged the hand in her grasp. The red and purple marks around Hikari's wrists caused a low growl to emanate from her throat. She sighed, and vaguely remembered those nights in which she lay paralyzed in her bed and felt some sort of beast, some predator, slowly make its way towards her and masturbate beside her. The helplessness, the disgust and nausea came fresh to her mind when called upon. "Yeah," she admitted quietly, and squeezed Hikari's hand. "I did."
"Did they... I mean." Hikari licked her lips again, drawing into an even tighter ball on the bed. "D… Do they ever s-stop?"
Oh yeah, they do, the sarcastic part of Asuka's mind answered. They tend to get replaced by images of me being devoured alive and then dismembered and butchered, then when you add the eight months of physical and psychological torture I inflicted on my… predator, yeah, they sort of get swallowed up by much darker memories. "Yeah," she answered instead, moving away some brown hair away as gently as possible so she could look Hikari in the eye. "They do. It helps when you sleep next to someone you… trust. You know, like that monkey boyfriend of yours."
She heard Hikari shuffle and sniff, clear indications she was about to cry. "I… T-Touji tried so hard… he was trying to focus the attention on him so that… so that… so that man didn't-"
"Hey," Asuka interrupted. She clasped a warm hand against Hikari's tear-stained cheek and turned her face towards her own. "Stop that. He's dead, that monster, and he'll never be able to hurt you ever again." She picked up the phone to show Hikari the bastard's head again, then dropped the phone on the bed and grasped their joined hands with renewed force. "You're safe, okay?"
Hikari's pale skin regained some color whilst she offered a shaky nod. Asuka's behavior had caught her off-guard, more so her desire to stay by her side even after adamantly saying she hated hospitals. The only reason Asuka still resided in the medical ward was its comfortable location between the gymnasium and dining area. She had expected Asuka to offer a pat on the back at best, and the girl was now sprawled beside her, wild hair all over the place.
Asuka had even confided in her one of her deepest fears: the sensation of feeling Shinji there, doing…that… while she lay immobile. Being observed by a hungry, wild wolf, and somehow not being devoured, but used and defiled still. In truth, now more than ever, Hikari felt some sort of empathy with the strong pilot sitting beside her.
"W-When…" Hikari began, trying to talk through the constant sniffles while holding onto Asuka's hand for dear life. "When did you g-get… so good at this?"
This time, Asuka's smile was bittersweet. It had been a painful, horrible journey filled with sorrow, loneliness, paranoia, anger, detachment and ultimately, a glee and warmth she had never fathomed possible. And it had been due to the diligence of one certain Ikari male. "I don't know... probably somewhere between me almost killing the one person who gave two shits about me as a person, you telling me how much of a bitch I was being, and recovering from getting shot."
Despite herself and the horrible situation she had just endured, Hikari snorted up a strained laugh, making Asuka's shoulders relax ever so slightly as some of the stress dissipated. Back then, she had seldom made Hikari laugh; mainly it was on occasions she boasted about her own greatness and prowess in battle, or complained about Shinji. Now, strangely enough, she had been able to bring some sort of small comfort to her friend. While the change was shocking and unexpected, she welcomed it with open arms for once, not surrendering to the constant dread of lowering her guard and repeating the same cycle which had kept alive for so long. It seemed this change was a positive one which enabled her to bring a shred of momentary happiness to a traumatized friend.
"Thank you…" Hikari uttered with exhaustion and a few more sniffles. "Sorry to keep you up… like this."
"Pff, what's with all the apologizing? That's Baka-Shinji's line, you know. Just worry about getting some rest, I'll watch over you like a Doberman."
With a few quiet giggles, Hikari's body visibly released some level of stress as she relaxed on the mattress and quickly drifted off. Asuka sighed, satisfied for the time being, and surrendered to the fate of half-sleeping on her arm, which would most likely be numb by morning from lack of circulation, and rested her head on the bed. So what if I have a nightmare and wake her up? she thought while she yawned.
The wind was chilly as of late, and she was wearing nothing more than a simple shirt and some shorts she had 'borrowed' from Shinji's drawer. Lately, as soon as she tried a piece of his clothing she instantly claimed it, adding it to the pile of 'comfy stuff for sleeping'. His shirts, preferably those he wore at night, were particularly comfortable, once he had broken them in over a couple of nights of course. Shit, she mused, licking dried up lips. I didn't think this vigil thing through. Well, sorry if I wake you then, Hikari, and you owe me if I catch a cold.
Of course, the Baka would never let her sleep in such discomfort.
She was more asleep than awake and yet still heard the door slide open and the soft footsteps she knew so well slowly make their way in her direction. It was not long before she felt their comfortable blue blanket be wrapped around her shoulders, a small bottle of water be pressed into her free hand, a pillow stuffed under her head, and a chair be lifted from the room's corner. Soon enough, the familiar warmth of the Baka's body radiated not too far from her.
"Hey," he whispered while she greedily drank the precious water. "Mind if I… umm… keep you company?"
"Sharing a bed with one gorgeous girl isn't enough for you anymore, Ikari?" she answered, and offered a tired smile when Shinji began to quietly stutter nonsense about it not being like that and whatnot. "I knew you'd come," she whispered at last, and gently took a hold of his shirt to gradually drag him closer. "You brought your gun? Just in case Hikari wakes up scared…"
"Of course," Shinji answered lightly, showing the pistol in his left hand. His right arm slowly circled her shoulders and brought her closer.
"What about your dumbass friends?" asked Asuka, poking his chest. "Don't they need the Invincible Shinji to protect them?"
"Touji said he doesn't need to be watched like a child, and I think he'd be more comfortable hugging Kensuke than me."
Asuka chortled and tried to stifle out her laughter. She found a loose part of skin on Shinji's face, just under his eye, when he lay on the mattress as well and gazed at her, then proceeded to pinch said skin. "Ow," Shinji mumbled, pretending to hiss in pain.
"Ba-Ka," said Asuka, her thumb gently tracing the skin she had just pinched and her fingers resting against Shinji's serene face. She loved the way his eyes held some sort of immeasurable tenderness when he stared into her eyes, even when it frightened her beyond reason at the same time. At times like these, when Shinji was determined, assertive and hopefully just a bit tired, it was when he smiled the brightest which caused some sort of winged insect to fly around inside her stomach.
Those disgusting, unwelcome bugs danced and slammed themselves even more viciously against her guts when Shinji's hand found a lump of stress just under the right side of her nape and applied slow, circular movements to dissipate said lump. She was so sleepy… she had barely rested her eyes in about forty eight hours and still, once the mind shut off, her mouth kept working and uttered a truth she had not considered revealing yet. "Did I ever tell you…" she whispered, placing her palm on his thigh. "…that I… like you too…?"
She failed to register Shinji's shocked and flustered face, for her eyes had long since closed and her mind was now peacefully resting in a world filled with delicious cooking, strong arms holding her and the shadow of a young, long haired little girl trailing behind. The boy in question gawked at her for the longest time, eyes extremely wide as he gazed at her sleeping face. Did I just… did she just… what the…
With his own exhausted brain too worn out to process what had just occurred, the most unnatural thought went through Shinji's head: a memory of their shared synch tests, and how he always felt that warm place right in her heart, that one warm room where he resided.
Well, Shinji pondered, eyes closing on the image of Asuka's face. It's not like I didn't know that already.
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January the 9th, 2017. NERV Gymnasium. 11.32am
Touji observed the training area stretching out before him with nonchalance obscuring his normally intense gaze. His arm was in a cast, his head was wrapped up in bandages, and his sides were tender enough to make him regret needing to breathe; it felt as though something was cracked, not necessarily broken, in his gut. He wondered idly if he would heal just as fast as them, or if the serum they game him was a more generic version which would only slightly help him recover. The serum seemed to work better than any anabolic steroid he'd ever heard about; considering the volume of exercise his friend, the Red Devil and Rei performed on a daily basis, that serum had to have some effect on quicker recovery during training. Sure, strain their hearts at the age of fifteen why don't ya, maybe if ya try hard enough you'll actually overwork them and give them heart problems at thirty. A humorless gasp escaped him.
Touji blinked, eyes darkened by circles from more than five sleepless nights, and continued to watch Shinji, Rei and Asuka work on drills with their separate instructors.
Shinji's fists were respectable, to be sure. Whenever the heavy bag was smashed with one of his straight left crosses or hook combinations the whole thing would shake as if complaining; it was clearthat he was angry. The left hook was even scarier now that the young pilot had acquired proper technique; even his pivoting and evading maneuvers left Touji wondering if he could actually defeat Shinji in a fair fight now. The boy was strangely focused, serious and committed when training.
Shinji practiced that Wing Chung thing for about an hour a day, then he boxed, then he practiced kicks, and every few days there would be sparring sessions. While he held no natural talent as far as Touji could see, he did have a solid work-ethic in training and quickly improved with combinations and good counters. Shinji's condition was solid, and he was a bit fast when irritated, and a bit scary. He'd walk right into punches that would bring down most, shrug them off and move forward, overwhelming his opponent with punches to the head and brutal body shots. It was akin to fighting two different enemies at once; a patient, careful and precise counter-puncher, and a wild animal that would simply not go down.
Touji had heard one of Shinji's sparring partners complaining about the ever-growing force behind the boy's punches. The kid was scary. Two days before a cut had opened up on his brow, an old wound that now bled more easily, and soon half his face had been covered in blood. Still, Shinji had moved forward with a ferocious snarl, and managed to bring his enemy to the ground.
What made Touji squirm uncomfortably in his seat, however, were those synchronized fighting drills Shinji and Asuka practiced, or those 'lovey dovey' practice sessions Hikari liked so much. It was downright spine-chilling to see them emulate the other in the ring throwing basic combinations with very few mistakes and apparent ease. Even as a natural leftie, Shinji would often practice in the orthodox form Asuka preferred to slowly learn how to use both sides of his body; on the other hand, Asuka changed her stance instantly the moment she noticed Shinji having trouble following her rapid kicking combos and then not only displayed, but helped him complete the combo as a left-handed fighter.
They were at it again.
Jab, jab, cross. Two steps back. Jab, jab, cross, uppercut; pivot to the left, head movement right and left, pivot, hook. Three steps back, pivot to the right. Jab, jab, right kick, duck, uppercut. Two steps back. They both changed stances once the bell rang, and then it was an intricate dance of a Jeet Kune Do offensive, practiced to impressive accuracy. If there was one mistake the bell would ring, they'd both take back the initial stance and start anew, and Asuka wouldn't scream at Shinji every time he missed a step or over-extended, or left himself open.
Touji gulped some unsavory taste in his mouth. That is just plain fucking creepy, he thought with displeasure while watching both youngsters move, advance, shift their weight and even breathe at the same damn time. Seriously, just what the hell…
The pilots spent about four hours every day training, ending with a healthy dose of stretching for forty minutes before dinner. Those synch drills that left Touji dazzled were mandatory for at least a hour a day and would normally extend further; both the redhead, Rei and that thick bison they called Sensei were always overeager to help Shinji not only recover his breath and use his energy more efficiently, but would also patiently point out his mistakes and help sharpen his reflexes or better his technique. More eerie than seeing Rei smile and joke with Shinji, though, was seeing Asuka actually give positive reinforcement when his form improved. What was worse, the girl even seemed… affectionate… when snapping at him for doing something wrong.
Then there were the 'lovey dovey' sessions. Asuka and Shinji would train together, as instructed by their Sensei, holding mitts for one another and practicing combos and grappling together. Hikari loved to watch them; most of the time they'd argue in a very familiar way, especially every time Shinji overpowered a punch or Asuka a kick. What made Touji's skin crawl and made Hikari effectively glow was whenever they settled into a comfortable rhythm and both just smiled like a pair of drugged, sappy youngsters. Worse of all was when Shinji winced for any reason at all and Asuka fussed over it, dropping the bravado and aggressive act instantaneously. Or when they practice locks… ugh. It's like their Sensei gave them a reason to touch each other in the most awkward forms possible, geez.
Nonetheless, his friends were not just sparring. There was running, jogging, weight-lifting, doing squats, and all sorts of basic calisthenics which aimed to strengthen overall muscle capacity, exercise slow-twitch muscles and build up stamina. They were receiving integral training addressed to make them efficient fighters, and watching said spectacle every day was about the only thing keeping a flickering desire to get healed burning in Touji's mind.
Licking the empty space around his jaw where a tooth was missing, Touji was mildly distracted by the slams of the Red Devil's legs on the bag. Jab, kick, cross, high kick, step back. Pivot to the left, a heel kick strong enough to make the large, stuffed opponent rear back a few centimeters. In his mind, he heard Shinji's ribs cracking. A jump to gain distance, and then the bag's chains rattled from the spinning heel kick to the temple. Two small jumps back and then another rumble when a high heel kick connected where the jaw would be. Down went Shinji's cracked skull to the ground.
I bet ye really had to gut your style to find the perfect way to torture him, huh? All those are attacks meant to break bones, and you took your sweet time to get to that, didn't ya?
He had always boasted, to himself at least, that he could beat Sohryu in a fight if it ever came to it, and probably would manage to knock her out if a punch ever somehow landed. After seeing her hit the heavy bag with those dreadful Tae-Kwon-Do-Jiujitsu-Muay-Thai mixes, though, the blood in his veins had frozen. Any of those spinning back kicks she had been practicing was terrifying to look at, especially the way she measured up the distance, spun and delivered a devastating amount of force with her heel to whoever was unlucky enough to receive it, only to fall back to her defense position a heartbeat after. A perfectly executed spinning heel kick, the instructor said; true enough, when Asuka stepped back from the bag, she gained tremendous momentum and would hit directly in what he assumed would be an enemy's ribcage or temple. Even with no momentum at all, practicing her Muay Thai kicks with an instructor, the slap was hard enough to make Touji wince.
During spars the girl was unpredictable, throwing spinning back fists, flying knees and cutting elbow-punch-kick combinations that left her sparring partners shocked. Her kicking was strong and precise; she'd use the ball of the foot to target the liver or stomach, the heel to smash the jaw or temple, and her whole foot to damage the midsection or push away her opponent. Whereas Shinji's fists were small, deadly sledgehammers, Asuka's elbows were sharp blades which easily opened gashes just above the eyes or around the cheekbones.
Touji's eye twitched; he could not help but wonder how much, exactly, Asuka had been holding back while physically abusing Shinji. He knew his head would be ripped off if he decided to stick it in that particular matter, but it had been two straight days of nightmares, family visits and headaches for him, and Hikari was now effectively terrified of sleeping alone which led to very uncomfortable sleeping positions at night, thanks to the redhead's advice that they also share a bed. Go figure how Hikari's family hadn't flipped at the idea, or why none of her sisters sufficed to actually make her feel safe. Touji was tired, angry, afraid, and now felt outclassed in every way and form. His self-confidence, much like when he had lost his limbs, had all but evaporated.
How in the hell do they manage? he wondered while a nail was violently and methodically punched into the back of his skull in the form of a blinding headache. You're telling me Shinji's been dealing with not sleeping well for months, getting this beat up or worse and still dealing with Asuka's shit? And her, do you mean to tell me she was butchered alive and relives it every night, and still gets up to beat the shit out of that bag and fuss over if Shin-man's eaten or not? Envy had always been a very alien sentiment to him; it slowly crawled in the back of Touji's mind while he remembered how demure and quiet Hikari was in her nightmares. She stirred, whispered and clung to the sheets and his shirt, mumbled pleas and moved her head here and there, but she didn't wake up screaming anymore.
In the nights Touji had been in the medical ward, twice he had heard the screams coming from the pilot's shared bedrooms. Their nightmares were probably dark like the pits of hell themselves, and yet they still had enough courage to fall back into a slumber, wake up, and live.
What are these freaks made of? I've been like this for little more than a week and I already want out, he mused, trying to flex the damaged fingers on his right hand and failing miserably. He did not mind Hikari's nightmares, only his own. He was afraid of going to sleep and waking up to that scene where some mongrel brute was about to rape his girlfriend, his friend was lying on the floor with a small puddle of blood under his head, and he was unable to do a thing. He was afraid of seeing that boy smiling down at him as he so efficiently butchered trained, elite soldiers with nothing more than his hands and a small, rusty kitchen knife. He was afraid of saying the words that boy had entrusted him with. Touji was simply afraid; even his sister had noticed and reprimanded him for the evasive behavior. Still, he could not shake off the sensation of being defeated, terrified and useless.
So, he sulked and watched his other friends get healthy while Kensuke fumbled with his computer and Hikari got acquainted with the cooking staff. As of that week, the three of them were officially under NERV's custody and protection along with their entire families. Misato had not only found and rescued them; she had also moved immediately and secured their loved ones before SEELE could get their hands on them. It still disgusted him to remember how that boy… man… whatever had stood there quietly and smiled as he was beaten to a pulp and Hikari was effectively traumatized, waiting for the exact, precise moment to reveal his own hidden agenda and slaughter the occupants of the room without hesitation or mercy. He felt weak; these emotions he knew well from his sister's hospitalization and his own. He had already lost his limbs once, and had spent the rest of his days until Third Impact depressed, tired, and on the brink of suicide.
Shinji had truly saved him in more ways than one, which only made him feel worse for keeping those words from his friend. A spineless fucking coward, he heard Asuka's voice yell out from deep inside his brain. That's all you are.
He had walked in on one of her episodes once; on the rare occasions that Asuka and Shinji both agreed to go out and simply walk, or watch the ocean, or do something else like regular teens instead of locking themselves in their apartment, surrounded by a small army of Section Two agents. Shinji was always hunched over, always, acting like the weight of a building was on his back. Asuka was always angry, and not the boasting I'm-better-than-you type of anger he recalled from school, but a more deep-rooted, internal rage.
The group had been going to the shore that one time; his idea had been simple, a day at the beach, or the pile of rubble that used to be a beach or was then a newly fabricated one, with a volleyball and food and even a music player to celebrate the fact that they were all alive. Things had been going well, even the then ever-scowling Sohryu had lowered her shoulders a quarter of an inch down from their permanently stiff position until Shinji's limp had become apparent from trying to run and catch the ball one too many times. The redhead had resembled a wild animal more than a person then, violently pulling Shinji up by his arm only to shove him back and drag him away.
"What the hell was that?! Didn't I tell you not to limp? You want to embarrass me some more and let everyone know what happened? Fine! Fucking spineless coward, that's all you are. And don't you look at me like that, you little worm!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You want me to give you a matching pair of bruises? Or are you gonna finally do something about it?! Come on, do something!"
The feeling of teeth biting the inside of his cheek made Touji shake his head and instantly regret it. The concussion, much like Kensuke's, was still very fresh and painful. She was taunting him; she wanted him to kill her. She felt so ashamed of herself she kept trying to push him over the edge again, but he never budged. She wanted them both to die, and he forced them both to live.
"Damn…" Touji muttered. He licked around where his molar had been; nowadays its absence was a dull reminder of how acting brave and strong had brought him absolutely nothing.
Whenever he had heard Asuka yell at Shinji, it had always sounded like she was saying things to herself more than him in Touji's ears. Shinji's actions went beyond patience or mere submissiveness; to Touji his attitude came more out of a duty born from a deep understanding of someone's trauma than some promise by a fire on some random night. Shinji had given his word in those first chaotic days, true, and would hold onto the duty of keeping them both alive even if it meant his health, his mind, his sex or his soul. But there was more than just duty, or disease. There was her. All for her.
Touji's big mouth and brute strength had almost gotten Hikari raped; his clear inability to do anything had been evident enough during their abduction. His inaction and utterly pathetic display as a pilot had cost Shinji a shard of sanity during the war against the Angels, his foolish attempt to resist had cost him a tooth, and his own actions had triggered what was now Hikari's newest nightmare-fuel.
Time ever so slowly ticked by, unnoticed. Touji heard voices nearby, familiar voices coming closer. His head hurt. The broken fingers twitched.
"You gonna sulk there like a baby all day or are you coming to eat the food your girlfriend's making for you, monkey?"
If possible, he hung his head even lower. "Hey Sohryu," he mumbled, never bothering to look left, where the redhead was now sitting. "What do you want?"
"I want…" said the Red Devil in a pensive tone, swinging her legs while she stared at the ceiling. "I want a house, with a big garden and a huuuge kitchen for Shinji with all the freaking ingredients on this Earth. And a pool, I want a pool so I can teach that dork how to swim. I want to stop needing the stupid Section Two. I want to be allowed to walk on the street like a regular person, without having people point their fingers at me and try to kill me. I want a big bank account that lets me go anywhere I want whenever I want, and I want my lunch." She slapped him on the shoulder, sending volts of painful electricity down his broken bones. "Are you coming?"
Giving a dry laugh, Touji slowly turned his tired eyes in her direction. "That's a lot of things," he said sleepily. "I meant, what do you want with me?"
"Isn't it obvious, dumbass?" she replied with speed and spite. "Your girlfriend's worried about you. I mean, you do kinda look like a drug addicted raccoon right now, but what I want is for you to go eat so Hikari can wipe that worried frown off her face."
He could go on for hours about how it was not any of her business what he did or what Hikari did, much less how they felt or what facial expressions they wore. He could go on for days countering with how he had been secluded and left unable to do anything when she was physically and psychologically waging war against his best friend and herself. He could spit in her face and earn himself a second concussion, or insult her in a profound, unexpected way. What came out in the end, however, both shocked and disgusted him, leaving Touji to wonder if he truly wished to hear the answer to his own questions.
"I heard during Shinji's first spar here, he ducked and went straight to the corner of the ring to hide, like he was some frightened puppy, I heard he was shaking like a leaf." He lazily gazed at the young, dangerous woman beside him. "I heard it took him a week to actually get over the instinct of running out of the gym or getting on his knees to beg forgiveness." Had there been any saliva or moisture in his parched throat, he would have spit on the ground next to the pilot's feet. "Must've made ya pretty damn proud o' yerself, huh."
Asuka said nothing, but he did notice her nostrils flare. Without even thinking, and with a much quieter, melancholic tone the words came gushing from his insides. He had been holding in the question for so long it felt like he was spitting out the bad taste of LCL or blood out of his mouth. "When did ye start fucking my friend for shits and giggles?" he asked, and stared straight at the reinstated Second Child. "Why did you want to die so much you just kept pushing him and waiting for him to kill you? Wasn't it easier to… I don't know… just do it yourself?"
He saw a barrage of emotions pass over Asuka's face in seconds and braced himself for a possible second concussion, some more broken bones, and disappointed looks from his family, friends and girlfriend. He had honestly no clue why the words had spilled from his mouth and placed him in harm's way at that particular moment. The Red Devil was a reported offender, a sex offender even. She knew advanced martial arts and could possibly kill him without breaking a sweat. It only made him more curious, the fact that she was so volatile and deadly, and he wanted to know why. Why the fuck was this strong, deadly young girl so absolutely terrified of Shinji's anger? Why had that attitude and twisted behavior of hers been so contradictory and self-destructive? If she was afraid of Shinji, why the hell prod him so much to snap? Was the boy really so far gone that he required such brutal treatment to realize he was alive?
Asuka's face went from shock to anger in less than a millisecond, from anger to what he assumed was fury, from that to a dark snarl which apparently sought to melt the skin on his face, only to have her pull those blue eyes that Shinji seemed to like so much away. Huh, that's interesting, he considered, feeling the biting headache take its toll. I half expected her to yell 'None of your damn business', slap me and leave, or worse…
Touji was testing her and she knew it, to his sadistic delight. Whoever lost their composure first would lose; the game was simple enough, they would push each other's buttons and see, compete permanently in debating who would break and lash out with physical violence. He was testing Asuka's resolve towards the promise she had made. Honest excitement began to pump through his veins at the idea of seeing the redhead unbalanced, frail, or insecure. He would certainly pounce upon such a moment of weakness, he was definitely waiting for a sign that proved she was indeed not fit to be around Shinji, or anyone for that matter. He didn't actually hate the girl, but he sure as hell resented her actions and mind-set.
Then, to his dissatisfaction, Asuka appeared to swallow down the anger with deep, slow breaths. He felt irked and annoyed when all she did was sigh. "There goes my appetite," she mumbled.
The room felt exceedingly large and stiflingly small all at once, as if there was not enough space for the strained conversation to take place, and the lack of any people whatsoever made it fell… unsafe. It was a strange sensation, one which made Touji ask himself if the drugs were having some sort of strange effect on his mind.
"About three weeks after we got the apartment," the girl answered at last, stare still lost in the ground before them. "I had a really bad nightmare, and he took care of me." Touji watched the female pilot flex her right hand while the blue eyes diverted to the palm instead. "If I focus hard enough I can still feel my arm being split in two. It was one of those nightmares. He was just… there. He took care of me, and I felt warm for the first time in… years, I guess. As for your other question… I guess I wanted him to kill me because I no longer felt like I had a purpose. I wanted him to tell me why he tried in the first place. I mean, I knew why, I just wanted him to say it. I wanted him… to end it for the both of us."
Still staring intently, if half-drunkenly at her, Touji again wondered why Asuka would bother to answer him in the first place, or reveal details of how it had happened, details he had not asked for. Again, his brow twitched; this time it was her testing him, trying to see if he would respond to the information now being revealed in an infantile manner, or actually mull over what was being said and continue with the conversation. He blinked with heavy eyelids and nodded, motioning for her to carry on.
With every next word, Asuka's face turned into a frown. "It wasn't for shits and giggles," she muttered with resolution, fists now clenching and unclenching in a very familiar way. When had she picked up that habit, anyway? Touji's already dark mood fouled even more. Not for shits and giggles, you say. The thoughts started to swarm his mind and force him to go on autopilot; there was just something exceedingly pleasant about projecting his own feeling of worthlessness onto someone else.
"So why wasn't he allowed to touch you, then?" he asked with a scowl. Sohryu's eyes widened once more in clear surprise and shock. He shrugged off the unsaid question with ease, gaze addressing the hallway which connected them to the dining area. "Hikari told me about it, about your little 'don't touch me' ritual, and I can read between the lines. I want to know why. Why couldn't he touch you?" He didn't care about the way Asuka's body seemed to recoil and curl around itself with every question.
"Why didn't you let him touch you, huh? Why?"
In the silence of the now deserted gymnasium, his question rang loud enough to echo through the walls. No response. Touji growled low in his throat. "Why?" he asked again, not realizing he was mimicking a certain discussion Asuka had had with Shinji months before. He noticed how the girl's face was obscured by red locks as she dropped her head. "Why?" he muttered quietly, only to scream at her a few seconds afterwards. "WHY?!"
"Arrrg, damn it!" Asuka screamed back, snarling bestially a few inches away from his face. "Because if he touched me then I wouldn't have resisted!"
This time, it was Touji's turn to blink and stare at her with shocked astonishment. "W-What? What the hell do you even mean?"
"What are you, stupider than stupidity itself?!" His ears rang with white noise and he flinched, the headache worsening to a hundredth more. She had screamed loudly enough to worsen the concussion at the very least. Then there was silence for a long time, and when he was once more able to open his eyes without them sending blades directly into the back of his skull, Touji felt shock swell unexpectedly when he noticed a small, shiny trail of water running down the redhead's face. Was she… was she crying? In front of him?
What the fuck.
"Do you know the difference between sex and rape?" Even as silent tears ran down her face, Asuka's voice rang loud and clear. Touji shook his head slowly but doubted that with her eyes diverted to the ground, would have seen it.
"Sex is an act of passion, or mating in nature, it can be a physical necessity like breathing or going to the bathroom." From the corner of his eye, he saw the redhead raise her right hand and stare at the palm. "Rape is an act of domination. There's no passion involved, only the desire to own someone, to push them down to the ground and use them like a toy." The hand clenched into a fist. "If Shinji… if he touched me, even so much as just… held me… then… I wouldn't have been able to do it. I would've forgiven what he did then and there. I wanted to dominate him because he scared me. I wanted to have his warmth but without risking… risking…"
"Without risking actually enjoying it," Touji finished for her. "You knew it'd be over the moment he touched you back. You knew the domination would stop, and then you'd regret your actions so much you'd probably kill yourself at some point. That's why he let you do it. That's why you didn't let him touch you, right? It would have broken the routine, the cycle. It would've been something new, something healthy, and it terrified the hell out of both of you."
Asuka took a deep breath, letting the clenched hand fall away and slam against the chair, and nodded. "Every day I saw a bruise I… inflicted," she spat with clear self-loathing. "…I'd want to kill myself, and then he'd go out of his way to take care of me… and it pissed me off. Over the months it felt like… he was taking the control away from me without even trying. Just by being there, I guess. It pissed me off so much, I kept trying to blame him for not being there before, but every day it felt more and more like an act; everything I threw his way, he took it. So I raped him. I took advantage of the fact that he likes me, and that he cares about me… that's he's attracted to me… to get what I thought I wanted."
"Did he ever say no?" Touji questioned, now also staring at the ground. If anything, the conversation only worked to depress him all the more and make him feel weaker. Shinji… why would he ever go through so much? "Did he ever like… try to stop you?"
The shame she emanated all of the sudden was strong enough to feel palpable in Touji's opinion; Asuka's head had all but dropped to her chest, her normally straight back slumped in a very Shinji-like manner. "Yeah…" she admitted quietly, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She had done unspeakable things, truly unspeakable; they corroded her soul in ways her mother's death never had before. "He did…"
"And what did you do?"
Taking a shaky breath and thoroughly unable to tear her gaze from the floor, Asuka responded. "I threatened to kill myself if he didn't do what I said."
There. The fragment of information he had been missing to properly assemble the puzzle inside his head. How did he never think of it before? Shinji did not fear death, or rather not his own at the very least; on the contrary, if his acts of mindless altruism were to be considered, he was the sort of person who would gladly give his life to save someone, even if that person was a stranger. Shinji's heroic behavior did not, however, surface from a dormant feeling of being a hero. Shinji did not find any value in his own life, and if he had survived, it was because he had devoted himself to keeping the Second Child alive because he had found value in her existence. So, he'd keep her breathing, keep her heart beating by whatever means necessary. Asuka was his treasure, the reason he could tell he was actually living and not in some fabricated reality. She was the one person who had resurfaced and helped him survive for God knew how long.
It made Touji want to tremble when it came to him for the first time; the thought of what might have happened to Shinji, had the redhead not returned.
"So," Asuka interjected, destroying his train of thought. "You effectively managed to fuck up my day and put me in a terrible mood. You're really great at this, Suzuhara. You got a knack for making girls cry; I mean, look at your girlfriend! Anything else you need to know before I drag you to lunch?"
It did not go unnoticed by him just how unstable and hitched Asuka's tone had become while she brusquely attempted to change the subject. If Shinji ever found out Touji had made his Asuka cry, then… well… a concussion was nothing compared to a broken neck and both his throat and entrails being ripped out. It astounded him more than anything; how Shinji being so young would commit himself to such a duty, after the Apocalypse of all things.
If what Asuka had scarcely mentioned before was true, there was a point at which Shinji had been thoroughly unable to discern his nightmares from reality. To that day he woke up with some dark circles under his eyes but a small, shy smile on his face. There were scars there, both visible and mental; in his eyes, on his brow, his lip, his skull. Nah, Shinji was not a hero, simply selfless. He had courage. Fear was ever-present, and he had the courage to fight it and face…life.
"I hate to repeat myself," Touji heard from his left once he'd gone quiet.
He blinked. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess that's all."
Asuka then stood and invited him to do the same with an annoyed wave of her hand, so he did, almost robotically so. He was astonished once again when the girl didn't turn her back and simply begin walking away. She stood right there, facing him, with some sort of sad yet determined expression, blue eyes staring right through him. The intensity of her gaze had Touji gulping for unknown reasons. "What?" he asked, confused. "What is it?"
Asuka never broke eye contact with him. "After one of my synch tests," she said with clear difficulty. "Unit 02 tortured me to try and convince me to begin Fourth Impact." Touji was thoroughly unable to process the statement, and she continued. "When I managed to… put it back in its place, I guess, I was overloaded with adrenaline. Shinji tried to snap me out of it, and I ended up hitting him in the face."
In seconds, Touji's face contorted into a mask of rage. "What?!" he practically screamed, for once ignoring the skull-splitting headache. His entire body shook with pulsing ire.
Only offering a nod in response, Asuka lowered her arms and… stuck out her chin? "I gave you my word that if I ever hit him again, you'd get to hit me back. If that's what it takes for you to wipe that shit-smelling look off your face, so be it. You can hit me now."
Before he even knew what was happening Touji had already raised his left fist and prepared to throw a cross with every bit of strength he had. His whole forearm began to tremble while he urged it to slam itself in the redhead's face, yet it did not; the stubborn limb disobeyed. The strain and the pure, unbidden desire to let the fist fly had his arm shaking, veins bulging and bicep rippling through his shirt. One punch would be enough to break her nose, or fissure her jaw. Hell, if he aimed properly, he could even hit her temple and knock her unconscious. Just one punch.
Touji had never intended to hit a woman in his entire life, but ever since meeting the Second Child he had wanted nothing short of a proper opportunity to physically display his repressed aggression and erase, if not permanently then at least momentarily, that smug, fake sneer of Asuka's face. Therein lay the problem, and the reason he was still unable to force the knuckles to make contact; she wasn't sneering. She wasn't laughing, or sarcastically offering the chance only to respond and in turn slam him against the ground. She wasn't wearing that mask of constant, deranged, misguided anger. No.
She would not raise an arm to block, nor would she dodge. Her expression was that of a person who knew the deep, disturbed extent of her own actions and had taken it upon herself to not only change for her own sake, but for the sake of the person who had been the outlet of her abuse, a person she held dear despite everything. She was determined, solemn, and it reminded him so much of his friend's brief moments of altruism that he felt himself drawn to that fateful day when he had punched Ikari Shinji. The fist clenched even tighter, shook with reticent rage until half his body seemed ready to convulse.
He had always wanted to hit the Second Child; the girl who boasted of being the best at every chance, who had abused and demeaned his friend to make herself feel superior from day one. He had always dreamed of smashing her to the ground and making her stay there with a few well-aimed punches and kicks, if only to gain some sense of poetic justice. This person in front of him, however, was not the Second Child. It was Asuka, Shinji's Asuka, and he could not hit her.
Touji lowered the shaking fist ever so slowly, minding to take deep breaths to try and reduce the rage running through him; in truth he only wanted to be provoked enough so he'd find an outlet to his own frustrations and newly-born insecurities.
"I can't hit you," he ground out, molars gnawing against each other, and gaining a surprised blink for the young woman beside him. "I can't. If you had done it on purpose I'm sure Rei would've hospitalized you that same day, at the very least. Hell, they'd never even find your body." He sighed raggedly again, and felt the pulsing headache make itself known again. "Just tell Hikari I'll be there in a few minutes, all right?"
"Why?" asked Asuka without thinking. Her face clearly displayed the confusion corroding her, yet seemed… serene. "I just admitted to a crime that's punishable with prison time, something horrible, a crime I committed against your friend. I admitted to hitting him, even after I swore I'd never do so again." It upset him beyond reason, to hear her voice so leveled and mature; it made him feel like a child holding onto some grudge everyone else had forgotten. "Why can't you hit me?"
"Because you're not the same anymore," Touji replied, eyes drifting to one of the heavy bags Asuka used to practice her kicks. "You're not the person who hurt my friend. She's dead, Shinji killed her." Again, he managed to apparently catch the redhead temporarily off guard by using her own words, which only served to draw a small, resentful smile on his face that never reached his eyes. "Back then, you never would've admitted anything. You'd never just let me hit you. I guess… I get it now, why Shinji looks up to you so much."
"What?" Asuka asked, bewildered. Shinji, looking up to her? What? What?
"Shinji's doesn't worship you, like these dumb nurses say." Since his fist was still clenched, Touji decided to partly let go of the growing dissatisfaction by hitting the bag as strongly as he could. The broken fingers, the jaw, the knuckles and wrist of his left arm, his skull, they all complained. Loudly. Yet the bag bounced as it absorbed the impact, the chains rattled and the stifling silence was finally broken in the gym. It soothed him somewhat, to know he was still able to throw a decent punch. "He admires you. He admires that stupid, ridiculous strength of yers. You don't think twice, ever. You just run ahead. You're always running ahead, full of fire like a goddamn fucking torch. He admires your strength of character, and he's right to do so." He punched the bag again with more force, snarling. Then, at last, he glared at her as horribly as he knew how. "You're strong."
Asuka simply raised an eyebrow and stared quizzically at him. "And that's why you can't hit me, 'cause I'm strong?"
"Yeah," Touji responded, flexing his fingers. "I respect that, I respect the struggle you go through every day when ya see Shin-man having a hard time breathing. I respect that it must take a goddamn shitload of strength and courage to try and make up for what you did, even when everyone just spits behind yer back. So, there. I can't hit you."
Asuka crossed her arms, effectively befuddled beyond reason, and felt her appetite return. Good thing, at that; Shinji had promised to surprise her with a bit more German cuisine that day. "You're weird," she commented, and shrugged. "But whatever, thanks for not knocking my teeth in then I guess, Stooge." She took a deep breath and quickly wiped a hand over her cheeks cheeks.
"So, you got it out of your system?" she barked suddenly. "Are you gonna stop feeling sorry for yourself over something you had no control over and keep worrying my friend about your stupid ass?" Her voice took on the old reprimanding and demeaning tone she normally used to address Shinji's dumb friends, which earned her a slight smirk from Suzuhara. "Or do I have to kick some freaking sense into you? I will, you know. Your dumb attitude is hurting my friend."
Again, he could have gone off about how she of all people was in no position to tell him anything about his attitude, or threaten him with more violent behavior. He could have said that she had already beaten up his friend to the point of almost breaking him both in body and soul, or he could have mentioned how she had used his friend as a punching bag and a deluxe comforter. Instead, Touji sighed when he remembered the clear concern written on the faces of Hikari, Kensuke and Shinji. He was concerning his friends. His family was worried, hell even Asuka was trying to break him out of whatever funk he was in.
Pathetic, he pondered with misery. When the Red devil herself comes to try and cheer ya up, ya know yer acting like a coward. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that," he said absently, staring at the heavy bag. "I'll be there in a minute."
"Whatever," said Asuka, and began walking away. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the large, empty room, and to him they sounded just as clear as his heart had pounded when that monster was about to defile his girlfriend. He tried punching the bag again, and only managed a half-assed, meager excuse of a jab that collided softly with the material, hand unclenching and tightening against the fabric. Perhaps there was one person who could help him… only one who fully understood and would emphasize without even meaning to.
"Yer a real jerk, Suzuhara… making your little sister worry. Making your woman worry." A man should offer protection. His own statement brutally reminded Touji of his uselessness and solidified the idea of asking a certain favor once his concussion and jaw had healed some. What protection was he offering, exactly, just sitting there, not sleeping and sulking like a child?
He needed to talk to Shinji.
Slowly, with what felt like a black mass of self-shame and anger that literally weighed him down, Touji made his way to the cafeteria and struggled to at least wipe the depressed frown off his face. Then, when he had almost reached the cafeteria, he remembered something that did the job quite well.
He could now call upon this 'free punch' coupon Asuka had given him in the future.
January 11th, 2017. NERV Medical Ward. 2.17pm
His wrist hurt.
He had been using that left cross his boxing instructor had taught him, hitting the heavy bag as quickly and effectively as possible, and adding the body blows as well. Still, he could not perfect his form; it made him angry enough to start hurling said fist at the bag until his instructor had revealed the reason and reprimanded him for his recklessness.
He was putting far too much strength behind his punches; with nearly enough force, according to Sensei, to break both a person's cheekbone and his own hand. His body was producing more power than it could withstand, and if he fought without restraint he'd only manage to injure himself and hinder Asuka instead of aiding her. Now the hand was a bit swollen; nothing to be overly concerned about, but it did hurt a bit while he chopped up onions for the rice. That hand dropped the next onion, though, and clenched angrily when the image of that ragged room came to mind, with blood splattered all over the walls in the most macabre form. After more than a week he could not tear the damn room from his mind's eye, could not forget the sight of Touji's swollen face, of Kensuke's dead expression covered in blood, and the pure, naked panic and trauma in Hikari's unblinking eyes. His friends, surrounded by eviscerated corpses, covered in their own blood as well as that of strangers. Shaken, afraid, traumatized; it had all occurred because SEELE wanted to get to him.
The hand sent another jolt of pain up Shinji's arm when it clenched tighter, remembering Kensuke's cold, forlorn stare during the first days of their admission. It was all his fault, as usual. Asuka had told him, or more like berated him that it was she who was the pilot and if anything, they wanted to hinder her image, credibility and mental stability by having their friends kidnapped.
Only... Asuka had not been the one to give a big 'fuck you' to SEELE's scenario, even when it had cost him most of his sanity. To this day if he bumped into somebody, the memories came without respite and would force him to flinch to flinch. A fragment of their memories, thoughts, hardships, of their imaginary worlds, their sensations, it would all ooze out of an open wound, still bleeding out torment into his conscious brain.
It made no difference. His friends had been kidnapped and hurt, and the Colonel who he now considered trustworthy had been shot twice trying to protect them, and was alive only due to NERV's advanced medical technology. The twenty two other men and women who had accompanied his friends had not fared so well. Twenty two families without a father, a mother, a sister, a son or a daughter, all because of him; more victims on the ever increasing list of people whose lives he had destroyed. Two billion forty four thousand, six hundred and eighty four and counting, adding the most recent event. He had out-done every mayor war in human history if the news were to be believed. How in the hell could he not hit the damn bag as hard as possible?
"Damn it… stupid hand…"
It did not help matters that he suspected, no, knew who had orchestrated the entire disaster from start to finish. SEELE never acted carelessly; they had to have sent someone with enough skill to decipher Section Two's numbers, block the MAGI's connection, and shoot straight through the window of his home.
Now working on autopilot, Shinji tore the chicken breast off the bone with a savage groan and began cutting it into pieces for his stew. It was getting cold lately; some chicken stew would benefit his family's health without a doubt, plus he had gotten fresh oranges from South America and apples from Russia's latest gift basket. He'd been getting quite a lot of those from different countries as of late.
It made no difference. His friends had been hurt. That… scum had not been true to his word. At all.
The Artist, or whatever his name was, he was the one at fault. It made Shinji's blood boil just to remember he could not even put a face to the modified voice he had heard over the phone on Asuka's birthday. That… bastard had admitted to shooting Asuka, so who else could it have been? And there he was, now unable to use his greatest asset, his left fist, in a decent spar.
During his now daily combat training Shinji had discovered many things, some concerning himself, his own sentiments and inner bestiality, but mostly regarding his vast inexperience and utter uselessness. He had been told by the trainers he had a knack for evading punches and was what they called a 'natural brawler'. Most definitely, his first instinct in a fight situation was always to run away, only now he was seemingly doing so only on occasion so as to avoid getting knocked out. His second instinct was just as primitive: to rip his opponent's entrails out with teeth and fingers or, most recently, either to knock them out and keep slamming them until they were not moving anymore or to smack them in the body until they puked.
He had also been told he made for a decent, instinctive counter-puncher and, being a southpaw, had considerable and fearsome power behind his left fist. Fearsome, my ass, he thought dejectedly, and forced the swollen hand to handle the damn knife properly. He put whatever remained of his tainted soul into his cooking, and he'd be damned if his family was served one more unsavory meal due to his state of mind. You want fearsome, go to Asuka.
Having actually seen Asuka both train and beat people up well before Third Impact, Shinji was no stranger to her ability in combat. She had been training for ten years, after all. Breaking his ribs was but a fraction of what she could unleash upon an opponent, if Rei was to be believed, and he undoubtedly agreed. Both an in and out-fighter, Asuka was painfully accurate with her kicks and elbows; furthermore, if ever taken down, her elasticity and experience in jiu-jitsu had cost the last few sparring partners to underestimate her a dislocated shoulder and two trips to dreamland. She would throw flying knees strong enough to possibly cause a concussion when the chance arose, and her knowledge in Tae-Kwon-Do only made it all the worst when she combined it with Muay Thai and came with those unpredictable combinations of high-low kicks with elbows, punches and locks.
The broth now in a boil, Shinji continued with the spices, smelling the state of each one before mentally making out the exact portions of each to accentuate the flavor.
Yes, Asuka was indeed fearsome, which only served to make him admire her all the more, and feel even more attracted to her. Perhaps he was a masochist, a deranged, perverted little worm after all, lusting after such a hazardous young woman. Oh, you are, no question about that, the Beast remarked with a heavy dose of sarcastic laughter. But, boy… is she not perfect in every way?
Despite himself, Shinji was forced to agree and smiled slightly while adding a pinch of black pepper and just a little lemon juice. She is, he answered, and tasted the broth. A little more sugar, some oregano powder and it'd be done. The chicken was fresh and there were plenty of wings to use, which according to Asuka were the most important parts in order to assure a flu-preventing stew.
Rei was another subject altogether; in all honesty, it had caught him by surprise just how phenomenal the girl was when defending against armed assailants, sparring partners, and Asuka herself. She was a brilliant counter-puncher -much better than him at least- and was also very efficient, never wasting a single movement in order to both avoid and inflict harm as she retreated. She had precise punches, powerful kicks and very developed judo abilities. The size or weight of her opponents didn't play much of a role once she squirmed through a leg and made them fall, or disarmed them with apparent ease during their basic knife-fighting drills. Her form was formal and impeccable in most cases; she appeared more akin to a monk than a fighter when reading through their opponents' moves and reacting at the nick of time to use their momentum against them. Her judo take-downs were scary, too.
He, on the other hand, the great Invincible Third Child, was barely able to keep himself away from the fake blade's edge and manage a sneaky punch here and there. While it was true he was vastly improving in applying locks and learning how to respond to an armed assailant, his improvement was meaningless when compared to his sister or to Asuka. The damn wounds and the pathetic state he had been in prior to his admission were at fault according to Sensei; the latter more so than the former. He had literally been days away from a complete collapse and if he remembered correctly, he would only eat on the rare occasions he sat together with Asuka and she practically forced the food down his throat with her glare.
Back then he had purposely hidden away during her meals, only informing her that the food was served and he was leaving the apartment, or he locked himself in his room until she was done. The obvious, false reason had been escaping from the verbal and often physical abuse he'd be subjected to, but in reality he had been wanting to hide how quickly he was wasting away. Eating had become painful at some point, simply because he feared a disturbing flashback which would result in him vomiting the food back up a few hours afterwards. It was better to ensure the food did not go to waste.
Now, due to this brilliant assessment of his, his bones were still a bit brittle, and yet his body produced enough strength to carry Asuka down the stairs, or break a person's cheekbone if properly pushed in the wrong way. Stupid, weak bones. Stupid Shinji. You shouldn't just have kept her alive; you were supposed to protect her, for once. You useless, spineless little shit. Spineless little fucking coward. From the depth of the Void, he heard the beast laugh hysterically. Oh boy, that's precious! You're even stealing my fucking lines! Go on, you piece of shit, keep feeling sorry for yourself. Maybe if you try hard enough the screams will come back, huh? He clenched and unclenched the damaged hand in a familiar fashion, and imagined wringing his own neck. Useless. Coward. You need to try harder, get stronger, get better. The image of mangled, disfigured corpses lying on the floor of a run-down apartment only made the necessity greater; his enemy was coming for blood.
The stew was ready, and the flavor would be to everyone's taste, Rei's vegetable stew was also simmering nicely next to it, and the buns would be ready in about four minutes.
The one forte available to Shinji, according to his trainers, Asuka and his own damn sister, was his instinct. Instinct, Shinji pondered with sarcasm while he flexed the swollen hand yet again. You mean when I lose my temper and go idiot times three.
He had already knocked out two different sparring partners who had been specifically instructed by Ishikawa to taunt and play with him until he snapped, and that, according to them at least, was where he was improving. Instead of just launching himself like a wild animal, he now calculated when and where to attack or defend, the high levels of adrenaline which blurred his logical reasoning also worked to sharpen his reflexes and make his attacks dangerous enough to render young fighters four years older than him nearly lifeless on the mat.
He recalled little of the encounters, only that at one point he had been caught in the corner, the boy had begun insulting his friends, then Misato, Rei, and lastly Asuka in that order while easily evading Shinji's attempts at an offensive and effectively gassed him out in three or four four-minute rounds. Then, exhausted and furious, was when the noise would come from somewhere in his mind and next he knew he'd be raining down punches on a person who was already unconscious. The second time it had happened, he had actually managed to hit his opponent with so many body blows the poor man had puked his guts out in the ring, only to be repeatedly punched in the temple until the referee intervened.
"Huh? Uh? I'm… I'm alive! H-Holy shit, I can't believe it…"
Those had been the words of the first true victim of Shinji's knuckles: strange words to come out of a young man who would compete in the Olympics. "Damn brat, that was nasty, you socked me pretty good around the temple, too. Those really hurt, you know."
Now sitting and waiting for both broths to thicken a bit and the vegetables to cook, Shinji brought both his hands up, and curled them into fists. They looked puny and harmless to him, but recent evidence begged to differ. For the first time in his life, Shinji felt some sort of flicker come alive inside, a shred of what he knew to be a raging fire in Asuka's chest. For the first time in his life, Shinji felt some level of self-confidence.
So they really hurt, he mused, staring at both fists. These knuckles of mine.
The moment lasted a few precious seconds, until the reality of what had happened to his friends came crashing back down and both hands dropped to his sides. Yeah, they hurt, these good for nothing knuckles of mine. I need to be stronger, I need to be ready. I can't hinder Asuka, I have to help her, I have…
The growl came low and dangerous from the pit of his stomach.
I have to fight.
"Ba-Kaaaaaaa!"
The voice rang loud enough to make Shinji almost jump out of his chair and onto the stove; he breathed heavily and could not resist the goofy smile and reddened cheeks that made themselves noticeable when Asuka came marching toward him, wearing one of those big T-shirts he used to sleep in now that the weather was cooling down. Ever since admitting to find it extremely sexy and attractive, Shinji had discovered a noticeable lack of shirts and sweaters now available to him. Before he knew it she was standing before him, both hands clasped behind her back and big, playful blue eyes shining up at him. "What'cha doing there?"
Despite his best efforts, bravado and the tiny flicker now illuminating the Void, Shinji found himself completely unbalanced by the sheer cuteness of the girl standing before him. "I… umm… some… s-stew," he said, scratching his head with the swollen hand. "C-Chicken stew…?"
"Hmm, you don't even sound too convinced. You sure about that? Something wrong?" she batted big eyelashes and him, and all Shinji could do was gape like a fish and blush a deeper shade of crimson when Asuka approached like a predator. Her faced scrunched a bit, however, upon noticing the hand still on his head and, quick as lighting, took it in both her soft hands and began massaging his knuckles and wrist with practiced efficiency. "This giving you any trouble, Baka?"
If ever there was a person who managed to make an insult something endearing, it was the Second Child. Shinji forced his body to cooperate and shook his head dumbly. "Uhh.. n-not really, just some jolts every now and then."
She puffed her cheeks in the way she only did when annoyed specifically at him, forcing Shinji's heart to work overtime as it sped up. "You better be more careful from now on, dummy. Look at this, you could've broken your hand. Imagine how uncomfortable it'll be for me to sleep next to a damn cast."
With the sensation of some of the pain dissipating under Asuka's palms and his eyes closed in pure ecstasy, Shinji nodded dumbly once more. "Yes, Asuka-chan."
Then he felt the soft pressure of her lips on his, of her body warmth next to him, and opened his eyes once they separated. "Baka," he heard her whisper while Asuka's gaze switched back to his wrist. "You're still upset about what happened, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Shinji answered, and sighed dejectedly. "It kind of made me feel useless again."
"You and your dumb, monkey friend," she confided, and this time offered him a small, shy smile with a bit of flustered cheeks. How was it exactly than when she looked at him like that, his knees seemed to buckle and his entire stomach felt like someone was waging war inside it with feathers? "It's not your fault. Hey, hey, don't you dare!" She stopped him from berating himself by both interrupting and adding just a tiny bit of pressure to his healing wrist. "It's not! Okay? I don't care what they say, and I don't care what you think, you gave us a chance to come back. Everything that happened before that is irrelevant to me, you hear?"
Shinji gave her a stiff, hypnotized nod.
"Those SEELE babies can only play dirty, that's all they know how to do, and they're bitching because we're much stronger than them. Our friends are alive, and safe. And we're gonna make sure they stay that way, right?"
This time Shinji's nod was much more enthusiastic. "Right!" he answered, turning serious.
Asuka smiled again, making Shinji notice the strain on her overly happy features. A sudden urge to hug her overcame him, but he resisted for the time being and let her continue her massage. "You're upset too," he whispered. Behind them the kettles boiled, providing the only background noise in the kitchen area. "Aren't you?"
The girl's smile slowly dissipated, leaving the closest thing Asuka ever got to actually sad behind. "Yeah," she muttered, frowning. "They hurt my friend. I want them dead. Every single one of those SEELE bastards."
"Someone's been hunting them down," Shinji commented, intertwining his fingers with hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Before either of them knew it, both were caught in an embrace, foreheads resting against one another. Ever since admitting he was no longer afraid of the contact or closeness, their hugs had become more intimate. While Asuka kept to her word about trying to be nicer, he also dutifully kept up by trying to be more assertive. Close as he was, he could almost feel her smirk at his statement.
"Good, hopefully they'll all die and then we can finally go home and you can get back to making us dinner in our own kitchen instead of some improvised empty room." For her part, Asuka's attempt to brighten Shinji's mood had been a clear success, with the added bonus that he was now making her feel better about her own feeling of helplessness during the hours of their friends' abduction. "And then you can play the cello in the living room while I read or nap."
"Yeah," Shinji agreed, closing his eyes and letting his nostrils get a lungful of their favorite scent. "I'll be looking forward to it."
It went unsaid that neither knew what to do regarding the Evangelion once it was all over, granted that they still had to survive and live to make up their minds. Asuka had had no problem with continuing to be a pilot until the ambassador had come along with his talk of 'great assets in war or commerce' and 'duty to the land'. Asuka had quickly thrown her soda in his face to wash away any ideas he might have about recruiting her or making her fight against humans while using a demigod-like being who could squash entire armies without even moving that much. If it came to it, both the entity inside the core and both of them preferred to let 2.0 rest at last.
"You never told me what you were cooking aside from that stew, you know," Asuka commented, and gently scratched Shinji's scalp in the way she had done on Christmas. "You gonna invite your idiots friends over for lunch?"
"Umm," Shinji answered, and to both their disappointment broke the hug to quickly turn off the stove and extract the finished buns. He did, however, and to Asuka's approving gaze and flushed cheeks, take a hold of her hand once he was done. "There's chicken stew with vegetables and plenty of wings like you said, we have some vegetable stew for Rei-chan and maybe the Colonel, umm... there's some buns and I baked a cake for all of us this afternoon."
His answer to the proud exposition of all he had accomplished was met with a flick to the forehead. "Ow!"
"You're supposed to be resting that hand, Shinji," she muttered quietly, fingers softly brushing against the slightly inflamed tissue. "But that sounds yummy. I thought we agreed baking was my business?"
A sliver of sweat began to crawl down Shinji's brow, which had Asuka staring at him with a serious frown. "Umm… I just… ahh-"
"So my cakes aren't good enough?" Asuka asked, never breaking the hug but managing to raise a disappointed eyebrow.
"No!" While there was no hesitation whatsoever in his tone, Asuka was certain that what he was saying was true, making the girl smile internally. "I… since you've been taking care of Hikari-chan and all I thought… umm…"
"Shinji."
"Huh?"
"Are you baking cakes to avoid talking to your friends about what happened?"
"…Umm…"
"Shinji." Damn it! When she called him by his name like that it was all over, and he knew it.
"…Yeah."
"Ba-Ka." She flicked his forehead again.
"Ow!"
"Go be a good friend. This all smells like it's done, and I'm sure I can manage with whatever you're baking over there."
Shinji stared at her, surprised. "Huh?" That promptly earned him another flick. "Ow!"
"Go." Untangling herself from him with great difficulty, Asuka pointed towards the medical ward. "Go be a good friend, Baka-Shinji. No running away."
He sighed, fully aware there was no other option, nor any cake or chore he could hide behind anymore. "Hai, Asuka…" He reluctantly began to make his way to Touji's room, where Kensuke was sure to be at such a time. "Thanks."
Asuka stuck her tongue out at him, and proceeded to shoo him away with a wave of her hand. "Go on, go console that big monkey and that gloomy brat he calls a friend."
Once Shinji had left the kitchen area, Asuka began to actually wonder in which oven specifically Shinji was baking, which in turn led to a charcoaled, blackened mass of bread forty minutes later. She forgot all about the cake the second Hikari came marching into the kitchen, looking pale as milk.
"…So…"
They had been sitting in silence for a good time now, neither of the three young males in the room seemed keen on speaking at all; Touji was glowering at the sheets while flexing his now bandaged left hand, Kensuke played with some sort of handheld gaming console, and Shinji sat on the chair facing both their beds, staring at his feet. Occasionally, he'd dare a furtive glance at them, Kensuke noticed from behind his game, but had not yet mustered up the courage to speak.
The EVA otaku felt empty. If he closed his eyes and squinted, the image of the dying woman with pink froth running down her mouth would assault him with a vengeance, along with the sickening giggles of the man who had killed her. It was strange, to not feel any guilt or remorse for what he had done, for the way he had smashed the gun's stock into the woman's nose and broken her face. The enemy in his game refused to die, so Kensuke pushed and pushed the button until the device creaked and audibly complained.
He heard Shinji shuffle in his seat, clear his throat, and cough in nervousness. He's perfectly fine with sleeping next to the person who put him in a hospital, and can't muster up a decent hello for his friends, Kensukethought dispassionately. Sohryu really did a number on him, huh.
As though made to disagree with his reasoning, Shinji exhaled loudly, bowed his head, then his eyes were different. "Guys," he muttered, exchanging lasting looks between them both. "You've told Misato-san and Section Two, you told the police, you told the shrink the government sent..." Kensuke watched Shinji's eyes still on Touji from the corner of his peripheral vision. "You haven't really told me… anything… a-and that's okay!" Shinji was quick to clarify. "I-I know I've been kind of evasive lately.. but, uhmm…"
"Evasive?" Kensuke ground out, and pretended he was still playing so as to not stare Shinji in the face. "That's a new word. The Red Devil's been teaching you some actual Kanji instead of just German?" His right eye went over to Touji's bandaged form; the boy in question glared at him in obvious furtive rage, signaling to Shinji with his eyes.
"Her name," Shinji began. "Is Asuka. Asuka, not Red Devil, not Bitch, and definitely not freak, or monster." The temperature of the room suddenly felt like a fridge, forcing Kensuke to reconsider his former statement. "I know that's what you call her behind her back," Shinji growled, directing his glare to the ground. "And I know you guys don't like her because of what she did… to… to me. But I'm afraid that's not your business."
"Then whatever happened is just our business," Touji answered without trepidation. "If you wanna know so badly, go and ask Misato-san, or the police."
Ouch, thought Kensuke, seeing as how Shinji visibly flinched at their friend's words. First you glare at me and then you drive a Florentine knife into his back. Maybe if you try hard enough he'll actually start beating the shit out of us, you dumbass. "He doesn't mean it," he said out loud once Shinji had fallen into a regretful silence. "And neither do I. I don't know half of the things that happened between you and the R- between you and Asuka, but it's not my business. It became my business when she put my friend in a hospital, though. It became my business when my friend was saved by some miracle serum NERV had been sitting on for God knows how many years, a serum that could've saved my mother from cancer, and they shoved it into your veins so you wouldn't die."
"What he said," added Touji. It felt strange doing this, throwing his inner turmoil like laundry at his friend, it felt even stranger to incite Shinji to lose his temper; it resembled being in a cage with a dangerous, rabid wolf and poking it with sticks so it would attack.
Shinji was quiet, surely mulling over how to properly defend his little girlfriend, so Kensuke continued to press dead buttons and Touji kept glaring at his cast. The silence stretched on, engulfing the room until the pressure became stifling enough to make Kensuke wish he didn't get dizzy with a pounding headache every time he got up. Even with the serum, apparently the point of his skull where he'd been hit with a rock was still closer to a broken eggshell than actual bone.
"I guess you're right to worry," Shinji whispered, taking them both by surprise. "Asuka did go a bit… overboard… I guess…"
"That's what you call her beating you to an inch of your life? A bit overboard?" Touji snapped, clearly annoyed and insulted. "Under any normal circumstances she'd be in jail, Shinji. Instead she sleeps next to you while everybody pretends like nothing ever happened."
"Nobody's pretending anything." The force behind Shinji's voice had both Kensuke and Touji gulping and quickly exchanging worried looks at one another. "It took me months, months before I could stop flinching when people got close to me." Shinji admitted, glaring at his shoes with renewed vehemence. "Ever since Third Impact, if a person came too close I'd see their memories, I'd see their lives, and I'd be terrified that they'd know who I was. I wouldn't even go outside if I had a choice, but…"
Despite the effectively tense atmosphere in the room, and despite the fact that Shinji was quietly seething in rage and probably resisting the urge to further worsen their injuries, Kensuke put the gaming system away and stared at his friend. He recalled Shinji flinching once they'd found him, after all, his eyes going glassy and wide, his body shaking and him running away the second he caught a hold of the boy's hand to shake it. It had taken Asuka going over to him and kicking him to make him understand they were actually in front of him and that, yes, Touji had recovered his limbs.
"So," said Kensuke, licking dried-up lips. "Why did you go outside if it was such a pain?"
"Because we needed food," replied Shinji with a somber tone. "There was hardly anything left in the stores, all of Tokyo 3 was destroyed, and I couldn't… I couldn't let her starve. Not after everything I did."
"And that's what you told yourself all this time," barked Touji, clearly annoyed. "That's why you didn't just starve yourself to death, or kill yourself in some other form. That's why you let her… punish you… to her heart's content, huh." His eyes never left the cast around his right hand. "You didn't want her to die," he said in a softer tone, sounding almost melancholic. "You made her the reason of your existence."
Shinji nodded. "When I… returned, everything was empty. There was nothing around, nobody, only me and… the nightmares. I don't remember how much time I spent alone, but…" He extended his marked palms, staring at them with detachment. "I don't know at what point I lost my mind; I remember not being able to tell when I was awake, or asleep. I remember having visions, hearing screams, feeling pain. Then she was there… and I realized it was real. All of it. Life, the city, Third Impact..."
"How much time did you spend alone, just the two of you?" Kensuke inquired out of pure, morbid curiosity.
Shinji's blue eyes remained glued to the dark circles on his hands. "A week, maybe two. She left after we had a… umm… a discussion." Both teens watched the fingers on Shinji's left hand flex and twitch at whatever memory he was relieving at the moment. "The moment she left, the visions started to come back and I…" Cold, dead hands wrapping around his soul, endless pain cursing through him, the corpse of a redheaded woman, eaten and dismembered, crimson eyes glaring down at him, the smile on her mother's face morphing to that of Lilith- Shinji shook his head violently. "I started to lose my mind again."
Kensuke fidgeted in his bed, suddenly uncomfortable; it made him prickly to think about their nice friend Shinji losing his sanity, degrading into a ghost of his former self. "Why did she come back?"
Shrugging, Shinji curled his hands into fists and let them rest on his thighs. "I don't know," he conceded. "I haven't asked her but… I'm really grateful that she did."
"Even after everything she started to do to you," Touji managed, and for once commanded his eyes to move in Shinji's direction. "You have some serious balls, Shin-man."
Despite himself, Kensuke snickered. "It's only to be expected that Shin-man would fall for the Red Devil, huh?"
They both shared a laugh at Shinji's expense, who for his part blushed deep crimson and redirected his eyes to the floor. "T-That's, umm… a-"
"Perfectly accurate?" Kensuke's mask began to slip when he noticed Touji's body convulse with repressed laughter. "Like, on the spot? Have you even seen yourself this week? I'm surprised you don't get a nosebleed just from your constant senseless blushing!"
At last, the wall broke and both of them descended into roars of laughter. Shinji's face began to turn an even deeper shade of crimson as they continued to snicker at his expense.
"Look at him, he's doing it right now!" Kensuke managed between a pounding headache and full mirth. "Ohhh, how cute, Shin-man, does she call you Shinji-kun now? You get nice and comfy in the bed and kiss her booboos? Mua, mua mua!" he imitated with horrendous detail.
"Seriously guys, quit it," Shinji 'demanded' with a voice as tiny as Touji's resentment for the next wave of fresh laughter at his friend's expense.
"Oi, Oi Kensuke, that's too innocent! I bet they're all in each other's faces like-" And so the jock proceeded to demonstrate sloppy kisses with his tongue out and gagging noise included.
Shinji's palm impacted his forehead in defeat. "Okay, yeah, I'm in love with her. You guys happy?!"
And they howled, both holding their stomachs and pointing at him. "Oh my God, he's so screwed! Look at him Kensuke, he's all puppy-dog eyed!"
"Sohryu-san, have my babieeeees! I will grovel at your feet if you only breathe my way!"
"Pleaaaaaase don't leave me! Asuka-chan!"
Both teens began to laugh hysterically at the poor boy sitting in front of them, who looked outraged and ashamed enough to crawl into a hole in the ground ground if only to escape their pointing fingers and over-accentuated howls at his expense. "So!" Shinji tried to elevate his voice above theirs, and failed miserably. "Are you guys done?!"
"Oh, oh, look at him, he looks all outraged!" Another wave of laughter escaped Kensuke's battered mouth, and for a few precious seconds he was able to forget the dark room, the grin of the man standing on top of Touji while he rained down punches on his helpless friend. He was able to forget the woman's face as she died, even for a heartbeat. Sadly enough, Kensuke laughed so hard that a needle, or perhaps a construction nail, was hammered into his still recovering skull.
"Ow…" he muttered, holding the offending area with his right hand. The pain came with every beating of his pulse, and it was acute enough to force him to remove his glasses and rub his eyes so as to try and alleviate the grievous ailment. When his eyes opened the laughter had died down; Shinji was standing by his bedside with his face twisted into a worried frown.
"Hey," he muttered, offering a glass of water. "Small sips, Kensuke. Just breathe slowly and it'll go away in a while."
Despite the blinding agony, Kensuke offered a half-smile as he slowly drained the glass. "Who made you an expert in concussions and headaches, Shin-man?" he asked with whatever mirth there still was in his system.
Shinji shrugged at the question; instead of answering he took the glass and went to the bathroom to refill it. Touji, who sat on his left, was suddenly glaring at the ground for no particular reason, his bandaged left hand coiled into a fist.
"Kinda dumb that you'd ask that, and you're supposed to be the brains of the two of us, Ken." Touji's head moved from side to side, as though choosing which side of the floor to glare at. "Asuka cracked his skull when she lost her shit. If what I heard was right, she smashed his head against the door."
"It was the window of my room," came the voice from the bathroom, taken them both by surprise. Shinji marched out with the glass refilled, and sat back on his chair after giving Kensuke the fresh, cold water. "We had a rule, back then. I couldn't touch her, and I broke that rule. I did it knowing she'd beat me up, and I didn't care."
Shinji's right hand went to his temple, where the small scratch was located. Asuka would caress the scar on occasion; a dark shadow of guilt would cloud her pretty face, and her clear eyes would become obscured. It was more than enough to make him realize how much regret it caused her to feel the old wound. It was the same kind of guilt that assaulted him when she had a nightmare, or when he'd catch her looking at her arm, or her stomach, looking for the bite and claw marks.
Kensuke's eyes widened when Shinji caught him with a grave, saddened gaze. "I didn't care if she beat me up." His voice became steel, unyielding and direct. "When the Fifteenth Angel attacked, my father forced me to sit there," he admitted, eyes moving from him to Touji. "The Angel attacked Asuka's mind, it raped her mind. All I did was beg my father to let me out, and he never did. I sat there, listening to her scream, telling myself over and over there wasn't anything I could do, justifying my own uselessness. After Rei-chan killed it, I went to see her."
Shinji extended his hands and stared into them, as though they held the answer or words he was searching for. Kensuke noticed, not for the first time, the dark circles on both sides of his hands; he had a matching pair of circles on his feet, if he remembered correctly from the times he saw his friend work with Asuka on jiu-jitsu.
"All I needed to do was cross a stupid yellow police line," Shinji carried on, now effectively glaring at his hands in the way Touji had glared at the ground. "She was vulnerable, she was hurt, she needed someone, needed me. And I just stood there, like always, doing nothing. I didn't hold her like I should've, she told me to stay away and I did, because I'm an idiot and a coward. I let her fall into a downward spiral, I let her run away, and instead of helping her I'd turn my SDAT's volume to max to drown out the sound of her crying."
A shadow danced around Shinji's eyes, one that made Kensuke gulp, one that caused the temperature of the whole room to drop once again. "I was always a useless, spineless shit," he admitted with resolution. "But that night… Asuka was crying in her sleep, even after… she was crying, and something just snapped. I had had enough. I couldn't take it anymore, couldn't deal with my own uselessness, so I did something. I held her, and she stopped crying." Shinji's hands began to clench and unclench. "Everything that happened after that, the next morning, doesn't matter to me at all. She stopped crying, if only for a little while." Shinji turned to glance at them, eyes fixed by the severity of his compromise and as determined as they'd ever seen him. "That's all that mattered. That's all that will ever matter."
A new silence descended on the small room; it lasted over a minute with none of the teens keen on speaking, until the biggest, and by all intents most injured one, groaned in absolute boredom.
"Bah," Touji exclaimed with a jaded expression, scratching his head. "Whatever makes you happy, Shin-man. It's not like we're gonna bully the girl who has you getting in shape and looking like a human instead of a raccoon." He stretched his one useful arm, grimacing at the stab of pain his wrist provided and the dull ache of his healing jaw. "It's all good."
"Yeah," Kensuke agreed from his bed; the headache had abated some with the water but he had been missing sleep for days, and were it not for Shinji's hawk-like stare during meals he would have not eaten anything. "We're fine with it, Shin-man. You look healthy, and not permanently depressed, so that's an improvement. Anyway, you made it abundantly clear that it's between you two so, you know, we respect that."
"Oh," Shinji said, blinking. "Um, thanks guys. Really… thank you."
"Eh." Touji shrugged again, managing to irritate his bruised ribs. "Don't mention it."
"We're just cool like that." Kensuke adjusted his glasses and grinned. The concussion, however, had different plans for him, it chose to flare up at that moment, and the image of the dying woman came enclosed with a renewed sense of nausea.
Immediately noticing the change in Kensuke's skin tone, Shinji was quick to move beside him. "Ken," he said quietly, clasping a hand around his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
The woman's eyes had been filled with dread, a kind of fear he supposed shined only in the eyes of one who knew they were going to hell. She had been crying, and he had been smiling. "I watched her die, man," he said all of the sudden; a hand clasped around the right side of his head and a small, deranged smirk came alive on his face. "She had half her guts out, and she wanted to kill Hikari just so she wouldn't die alone. What kind of a shitty person does that?"
"Kensuke." Shinji visibly flinched in shock at his words. "What do you mean, watched her die? Who died?"
"Every single one of them," Touji grumbled from his seat, glowering at the bed. "Every one of those… mercenaries… who kidnapped us, they all died. A guy was with them, a kid. Maybe a bit older than us."
"There was a woman with them," Kensuke continued, and took off his glasses to push his fingers deep into his eyes. "She was… okay with Hikari being raped… She was okay with a young girl being robbed of… everything. She was laughing."
"They all were," Touji limped over to them, sitting to his right. The mattress sunk when he collapsed onto it. "They were partying and laughing like they'd just won the fucking lottery, and then that crazy kid started killing them."
Absently, Kensuke felt the mattress sink to his left as well. Am I really looking so shitty that these guys are cornering me like I'm some lady in distress? he thought, disgusted with himself. He didn't quite remember the last time he'd had a good night's sleep. "He was laughing too," he recalled as the images unveiled in his head. "He was having a good time killing them. Just… killing… it was like a big joke to him. He could've done something… anything! At any point! And he chose to kill everybody when it suited him!" His hands curled into fists. "They were all bad people, horrible people, but…"
Shinji's sat beside them, eyes going from Kensuke's pale form to Touji's exhausted one; both looked terrible, with their hair ragged, big black lines under their eyes, tired and cranky. Touji had a cast on his right forearm, and was in a perpetual gloomy mood, not directly aggressive yet clearly unfriendly; he had scarcely spoken to anybody but his sister or Hikari. Kensuke rarely left his room, sticking to his games and videos; he had obviously been trying to hide what was gushing out at that moment.
Tears welled up in Kensuke's eyes. "Why… why do something so… macabre, man? Why would anyone just ride along with kidnapping kids?! We're… we're just kids! And those people… they were soldiers! They… they w-were supposed to protect us! T-They were supposed to save us, not torture us!" He grabbed onto the sheets, for once forgetting all about the pain in his skull. "F-Fuck! All I ever wanted to be was a soldier, a pilot! Damn it!" Fisted hands clashed onto his legs with vehemence. "Damn it! D-Damn it…!"
Touji's heavy hand tilted his body to the right as it clasped his elbow. He squeezed reassuringly, yet his gaze always remained both miserable and infuriated. "They came here and killed everyone, Ken," he growled with a gravelly voice. "They're just trained killers. Give them an order and they'll do it, doesn't matter if it is 'kill children', or 'rape a girl'."
Watching his friends suffer through what he considered his fault was enough to make Shinji feel useless, but sitting in a room with them as they detailed the horrid experience to him had an effect he had never anticipated; he found himself hearing Asuka's voice in his head. Idiot. Dolt. Be a friend. Take care of your sister. Baka. Do something. Ba-Ka. Despite the bitterness around them, Shinji smiled sadly.
"They were not all bad people," he found himself saying. "Misato-san found out most were forced to do it. The people knew we were fighting the Angels, they just didn't know my father was willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to get what he wanted." When Kensuke's tearful eyes glance his way, Shinji's smile widened in what he hoped to be a reassuring gesture. "Ishikawa-san refused to attack, so his and many other squads were… purged before the attack began. But Ishikawa-san is my sensei now, he's helping me learn how to protect the people I care about. That's the very reason he joined the army, and the reason he's training with me now. So they're not all trained killing machines, Ken. They're people, too. And maybe those… bastards who took you guys were bad from the start. It's not news to any of us that the world is full of bad people."
Kensuke angrily brushed off the dampness on his cheeks. "Shit," he muttered. "Look at me, sitting here crying like some princess… I guess I was never cut out for it anyway, huh?"
"You saved Hikari's life."
Two pairs of eyes widened and snapped in Touji's direction, who was still holding onto Kensuke's shoulder and glaring at the sheets like they had just offended his sister. "That guy we talked about, Shinji." Two angered, sunken eyes glared upon the Third Child. "He was so busy having fun killing that fucking brute that he never noticed the woman reaching for a rifle." He nodded at Shinji and pointed Kensuke. "He picked up a rifle too, concussed as he was, and he stopped that bitch from shooting my girlfriend."
Touji's gaze travelled to his cast then, defeated and enraged. "All I was good for was putting thoughts into that monster's mind when I fought back and tried to act tough. My big mouth almost got Hikari raped… and if it wasn't bad enough that I couldn't do jack shit… I had to watch that little freak traumatize my girl for life by cutting the man's head off in front of her." He shrugged at both Kensuke's and Shinji's incredulous looks. "It's the truth. You saved her life, but I put her in danger. There's nothing more to it. What you did… you shouldn't ever feel sorry about it."
"I don't," replied Kensuke, head in his hand. "That's what makes it so… strange. Shinji." The pilot's head whipped in his direction. "You feel bad all the time, right? About… what happened?"
He nodded absently, eyes glued to Touji's heated expression. "All the time, Ken. But I don't think what happened to you guys and what I did are remotely… comparable things. You guys survived, you did what you had to so you wouldn't die, so Hikari-chan wouldn't die. You shouldn't feel bad."
"That's just it," Kensuke said,; his hand massaging the point around the bandages where the pain concentrated. "I don't feel bad about hitting that woman. She was going to die anyway… but it scares me to think I don't care. I watched her die… and I didn't feel a thing."
"It doesn't make you a monster if that what you think," Shinji murmured resolutely. "It doesn't change that fact that you're a good person. Sometimes… the line is blurry, but I know you're not bad, Kensuke. I know it's hard… to live after something horrible happens. But it'll go away, I can promise you that."
Kensuke sniffed; suddenly exhausted beyond anything he could comprehend. "It will?" he asked in a tiny voice not like his own at all. "I hope so… I want to stop seeing that woman die; I want to stop hearing those assholes laugh while they beat up my friend… I just want to sleep…"
"And you will." Another hand, a lighter, albeit more calloused one, fell on his left shoulder. "If I can manage a good night's sleep every now and then, trust me, you will too." Seeing his friend shrug half-heartedly, Shinji sighed and failed to produce the tiniest of smiles. "It's horrible to have nightmares, especially when they're memories of things that actually happened." His own nightmares were rarely sated, the only reason he was able to function on a daily basis was the presence of a certain red-haired girl sleeping next to him, and rousing him when he began to mumble or thrash about. "But it gets a little better over time."
It was a lie of course, at least from his perspective, but perhaps Touji and Kensuke's pain would heal at some point.
Kensuke nodded absently, head lolling to the side. "Thanks, Shin-man," he whispered. How come he was so tired of all the sudden? How come his lids were closing, and how come he felt strangely relieved to have told someone about those glassy, teary eyes staring deep into his soul with a fear he was unable to understand? "I think I feel a… a little better now," he said with a yawn.
The door suddenly burst open, and Ikari Rei came marching through with a tray full of food and a somber expression on her bruised face. Her left eye had a distinctive purplish hue just over the cheekbone, and her lower lip was sporting a small, imperceptible gash. She cleared her throat after an awkward silence took over all occupants of the room, and raised a curious eyebrow at the scene unveiling before her; both Shinji and Touji sat to each side of Kensuke's bed, both with a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Apologies," she said, crimson eyes traveling to the now effectively mortified and flushed bespectacled boy. "The Sub-Commander advised me to bring you food, since you were not there for lunch." Kensuke's eyes widened, his blush deepened, which in turn forced a blink out of the former hybrid. "Am I… interrupting something?"
"Nope!" Kensuke pipped and shook the hands off his body, lifting his arms in embarrassment. "No, no, no NO! Nothing's being interrupted here! Please come in, Ikari-chan! Absolutely nothing's happening!"
Touji was the first to catch the drift and stood, limping away from both the bed and his friends. "Yup, nothing to fuss over here, Rei, just a bunch of dudes being dudes." He passed the cart on his way to the door, hesitating for a second when the scent of the freshly made stew sneaked into his nostrils, but the former Fourth Child moved away, motioning for Shinji to follow him.
"Uh… yeah!" Shinji sprang from the bed, patting Kensuke's back with palpable awkwardness. "So, I'm gonna go with Touji-kun for a few minutes, and they'll we'll all have lunch together." He glanced at the suspicious look his sister gave him and gulped when they narrowed as he passed her by. "It'll just be a couple of minutes, Rei-chan, I promise."
Rei glared up at her brother for a few seconds, voicing her complaint without speaking. I not only sparred with your harlot this morning and got a bruised eye and a hurt jaw for my trouble, but I've also served lunch when it was made clear to me that you were our chef, her eyes told Shinji, who gulped again and stood basically paralyzed beside her. I have gone through the trouble of heating up, transporting, and serving the meals for your friends. Moreover, I had to sit with your harlot and Katsuragi-san at lunch and watch her gloat over our tied matches. Rei's growl of discomfort was loud enough for the three of them to hear. She raised her hand and offered an open palm. "Five minutes, Nii-san. The food will lose its heat." You will be back in five minutes.
Gulping down the sudden fear for a second time, Shinji was barely able to offer a stiff nod in response to the words which had clashed against his brain without her actually speaking at all. "U-Understood," he squeaked, just before Touji's uninjured hand shot up and dragged him away by the neck of his shirt.
Once they both disappeared and yet another uncomfortable silence invaded the now stiflingly small room, Kensuke wondered why in the hell his friends had deemed fit to go speak of God knew what and had left him alone with… with a girl who basically glowed under the light. When Rei moved next to his bed, dragging a chair, and promptly began filling up two cups with steamy, delicious-smelling soup that had his exhausted brain in overdrive, Kensuke forced his damaged gray matter into motion. He numbly accepted a tray with a cup of broth, rice, some chicken wings on the side and a large glass of orange juice.
"Nii-san is a fan of citrus fruits," came the voice from his right side. Blinking, Kensuke noticed he had been sitting on his bed, staring at the food without moving, for a solid minute, and in the meantime Rei had served herself a cup of a different-smelling broth. "I do not like meat," she explained when he basically gawked at her plate. "Nii-san has been learning vegetarian dishes ever since my return. You, however, require the chicken broth and orange juice so as to better your immune system and counteract the depleting effects of the serum."
"Uhh…" He was terrible with girls; even more so with beautiful ones who had no concept of personal space. Rei took the spoon from his fingers and fed him soup when he did not move out of pure shock; it was basic motor functions which allowed Kensuke to accept the offered spoonful of chicken stew. He never felt his tongue burn, nor did he notice when exactly Shinji's sister put the spoon back in his hand. He did notice how his entire body tingled wherever she touched him. "Uhh… t-thanks, Ikari-chan… I think I can0"
"My name is Rei, Aida-kun," she declared, staring at him with apparent nonchalance. "You may refer to me as such if you wish. Also, it is best that you eat; with the current cold weather your broth will go cold and the flavor will be lost."
"Ah! Right!" Kensuke remembered he could not yet shake his head without feeling a cacophony of broken eggshells in the spot where his skull was fractured. Sighing, and stealing furtive glances at the gorgeous young woman who so placidly sat beside him and took demure sips of broth; the former soldier-wannabe forced his body to cooperate and began eating the offered food. "Wow," he said between bites. He took one of the wings and devoured it with ferocity, enticed by the sweet-sour taste dancing on his tongue. "This is… amazing! You're telling me Shin-man's been cooking this stuff for days and I'm just now noticing?!"
Rei raised a curious eyebrow in his direction, never looking completely away from the cup sitting in her lap. "Nii-san's food is his way of expressing himself," she said, biting into a perfectly cooked piece of broccoli. "He cares very much for us; for you, his friends, for Katsuragi-san and the harl- umm, and for Asuka. He cooks food which he believes to be best suited for the day, and pours his soul into every dish. This is why Nii-san's food is unparalleled."
Kensuke stared at his dishes with renewed awe. How come he had not noticed nor tasted the excellence of Shinji's cuisine until now?
"It is expected that after such a… difficult event as the one last week, you would not pay much attention to your surroundings, or the food in front of you," Rei explained with what felt like ethereal patience. "Sohryu herself rarely took notice of it until after Third Impact."
"Oh," Unconsciously going through the wings without respite, Kensuke nodded, and skeletonized yet another one. True enough, during Asuka's birthday, Christmas and New Year, he had wanted nothing more than to refill his plate as many times as his stomach allowed without exploding. He swallowed down the meat with a healthy drink of broth and collapsed back on the pillows. "Whew, yeah, okay I'll admit it." Preventing what would have been a grating burp from roaming free, Kensuke smiled at Rei. "Your brother is one hell of a cook." It was perhaps the first honest smile he had produced since being admitted.
"That he is." Rei smiled back at him, which in turn had him blushing like a madman and staring down at his glass of freshly pressed orange juice. "He will be pleased to know his touch has not been lost."
"Huh?" He did not quite recall eating the rice, or emptying the broth and having the attractive girl next to him refill it, just so he'd slurp it back down with little, if any etiquette. "His touch?" He was dizzy, both from the smell of the food and the particular scent of Rei, which for whatever reason was becoming intoxicating and was erasing the stench of blood and shit stamped on his brain since his rescue.
"Nii-san's specialty," Rei offered as single phrase of enlightenment. Her renewed smile made Kensuke dizzy for reasons completely alien to his concussion or the effect of the serum in his body. The girl lifted her own cup. "Comfort food."
Catching up to Touji's limping form was easier than Shinji expected; at some point during his recovery his stamina had returned with a vengeance so he could now breathe normally without his chest bursting into flames and a knife pressing against his lung. The severity of his training had slowed down the healing process, and more often than not he'd be assaulted by phantom pains he mentioned to none other than Ishikawa; it was his burden to bear and nobody else's, as far as he was concerned. The pain would come in handy at some point in his life.
Touji had hurt his foot just the day before; he had wandered into the gym and tried to kick it with a single arm to balance himself and a slight concussion on his brain. He had been mostly successful if Asuka had the right of it; but had damaged his leg while attempting to perform one of her heel kicks and ended up getting most of the momentum thrown back at him by the heavy bag.
"Touji," he said, trotting next to the sulking, dark figure beside him. "Where are we going, man?"
"The gym," Touji growled, clearly annoyed by the limp in his step and other things he had not yet mentioned. "I need ya to beat some sense into me, Shin-man."
A shadow of concern fell on Shinji's mind. "Beat some sense into you?" He grabbed the boy's arm and stopped them both in the middle of the hallway. "I'm not hitting you, Touji. You have a concussion."
Touji snarled at him and shook off his hand with a violent jerk. "I ain't talking about ya hitting me, ya dumbass. Just shut up and come with me, I need to lay something on you." He marched on without another word, or tried to at least, limping away with his bad foot. Great work, Suzuhara, just a little more and Hikari's gonna leave yer dumb ass for looking like a god damn mummy, all wrapped up from yer own stupidity. The broken fingers tingled on his way to the gym.
At a loss of how else to proceed, Shinji did as instructed and followed Touji until they reached the large training and recovery area. His friend was visibly panting and sweating, his eyes looked sunken in, his hair was rattled and uncombed, he was thinner, if only slightly, and his limp had worsened considerably on their way. There was something horribly familiar about the way his eyes looked, about the way he moved in general.
Shinji's eyes widened. Oh, he realized suddenly, feeling every bit the idiot Asuka had always accused him of being. I know this. This is… self-destruction. This is guilt. This is me, eight months ago, four months ago.
"...Shit," Toji gasped. "I need… to get back to jogging or… s-something…" The fatigue, headache and dull pain in his wrist and foot only worked to anger him more. "Shin-man." A tired eye whipped in Shinji's direction. "How… do you do it… huh?!"
"Eh?" Shinji walked over to the small fridge in the corner and retrieved a bottle of water, offering it uncapped to his injured friend. "Do what, man?"
The bottle was snatched with more aggression than necessary; it pissed him off to see Shinji so fit and healthy, and himself so weak and damaged. It felt just like being in a damn hospital bed with his arm and leg chopped off, so he spilled about half the water with the attempted act of strength and drank whatever remained in the bottle. "How do you live?"
This time, Shinji's shock was evident in his entire features; he flinched at the question and took half a step away from him, looking apprehensive. "W-What do you mean?"
"I wasn't blowing off steam or running my mouth back there," Touji declared. His gaze traveled to the heavy bags that hung in their vicinity, awaiting the violence to come. "I fucked up, Shinji. What did Misato-san teach us? If you get kidnapped you shut up, you press the button and you don't say anything unless they threaten to torture ya, right?" Shinji nodded absently, still evidently taken back by his words. "Well, I started yelling that I'd kill them. I screamed Hikari's name loud and clear. I kicked the guy who started ogling her, the guy who touched her and almost raped her, I pissed him off. You keep saying everything's your fucking fault, ya keep saying you got Asuka killed, ya got Misato killed, ya got me crippled, ya blew up the whole damn world."
Irrational, ungodly rage directed at none other than himself forced Touji's hand to rise up and curl around Shinji's shirt to drag him closer. "So how do you do it, huh? How do you wake up knowing it's your fault and survive? How?!"
Shinji stared up at him in obvious shock for a few solid heartbeats, but understanding and something Touji didn't quite recognize gradually descended on his stare. Whatever it was that shone in Shinji's eye, it started to force tremors out of him, the bitter burning of tears blinded him. "How do you do it, man?!" he wailed, shutting his eyes with vehemence. "How does one cope?!"
A heavy hand fell on his left hand, forcing a jolt of pain from the damaged wrist. He forced the tearful gaze onto his friend's somber expression. "W-Well," Shinji said, offering an awkward, nervous smile. "I'm not the best person to be asked this type of stuff… maybe Asuka-chan could give you a good answer."
Touji groaned, letting go of Shinji to over-accentuate his discomfort by palming his forehead and intentionally drawing it down his face to both express the lunacy of Shinji's suggestion, and wipe off the tears. "Ah, shit," he muttered, staring incredulously at Shinji. "What are ya, stupid or somethin'? I don't need the Red D-" Shinji's eyes almost shone red, so he corrected the sentence as fast as possible. "Ahem, I don't need Asuka's advice, ya numbskull, she ain't my friend. You are. And no offense, but you're kinda the 'it's all my fault' guy man, and ya still wake up, eat, train, get yer ass kicked, and get back up. I don't know what bullshit you've been feeding your girl or Misato-san, but I see through ya."
Touji glared at Shinji with vehemence. "Yer in pain, your ribs are giving ya hell, your stomach and chest must feel like Swiss cheese being stretched, your lung must feel like it's being stabbed every damn day." Motioning at the gym around them, Touji whipped back in Shinji's direction. "How do you do that, knowing it's all your fault, man?"
Shinji's hand clenched and unclenched, eyes drawn to the floor so as to escape Touji's piercing and desperate gaze. "I guess… at some point, you get it," Shinji spoke softly, walking over to the heavy bag Asuka preferred for her kicks. "You understand that blaming yourself, that letting yourself rot for no reason at all except because you feel you need punishment somehow… it doesn't do a damn thing for the people around you."
Shinji's left hand clasped the worn out material with some sense of remembrance he did not comprehend. "You're just making yourself more useless. You can't afford that if you want to protect someone, if you want to help someone. It took me months to get that, months in which I was basically waiting for death." The fingers clutched the leathery surface under his palm. "If you have something to protect and live for, you can't afford to die."
Touji laughed mirthlessly. "Heh, yer right, and still I was thinking I was being brave. All I did was make my girl suffer."
Shinji shrugged at his statement with some form of empathy. "All I ever said to myself was 'Asuka doesn't need any help, not from me anyway. I can't do anything to help her, I can't do anything to help anybody. I can't reach her, I don't deserve to, and she'd never let me.'" He sighed. "Look where thinking like that got me. Drained, crippled, weak, sick; all the while letting her hurt. I guess the way you cope, Touji, is simply muddling through. There's no other way… but first, you have to get out of your own way."
Crashing unceremoniously on the mat, Touji groaned loudly once more, only in a more lively way. "Baaaaaaah, look at this crap. The great Suzuhara, taking manly advice from the Shin-man. Damn, how the mighty have fallen. Here I am, feeling sorry for myself, and there's your girl looking after mine 'cause I'm all funky and shit. What a waste of a man."
Shinji sat down next to him, smiling. He hesitated for a few seconds, and eventually his hand fell on Touji's shoulder. "It's okay to feel useless sometimes, Touji." The image of a certain redheaded girl disagreeing flashed through both their heads. "But only so long as you learn from it, and keep moving forward. We have to keep moving forward, even if it hurts. That means no hitting yourself anymore, my friend."
"Pff." Touji responded, suddenly feeling very, very tired, and very much hungry. The first order of business would be apologizing to Hikari of course, the second one being eating, and the third sleeping a good twenty hours. His body, however, seemed content to lay on the mat and nap, so it came as a surprise when he felt someone, or something haul him up carefully and lay his uninjured arm on a scrawny, but steady pair of shoulders after more than the promised five minutes had passed.
"Come on, buddy," Shinji mumbled with difficulty, dragging them both back to Kensuke's room. "Let's get some food in you."
"Wh…ever ye say, Shin-man."
He must have blacked out at some point; the tiredness ran all the way to his bones, for when he next opened his eyes, Touji was almost reaching Kensuke's room, wobbly legs tripping against one another every now and then. Had it not been for Shinji's support, he would have most likely collapsed in the gym.
"Hey, Touji," Shinji said absently, staring straight ahead. "That boy who saved you, who killed all those soldiers..." A heavy frown fell on his face. "Do you think anyone could beat him in a one-on-one fight?"
Touji offered another mirthless bark filled with derision. "No chance," he mumbled back, yawning and half unconscious. "That fucker's a monster, I tell ya. Only if it were in an EVA, and both you and your girl… teamed up on his ass. Maybe then… but I don't know. That was some terrifying shit, man. He said he was... a man of his word..."
"I believe you." replied Shinji, and let the matter rest.
Touji, for his part, succumbed to exhaustion, letting himself be driven back to their sleeping area with little to no struggle. He never noticed how Shinji's body tensed, how the boy's eyes turned to deadly steel as they glared ahead. He never noticed how Shinji's entire body language changed, how his head bowed and his eyes stared forward and pictured what would be his enemy. A man of his word; it was clear who had 'saved' and purposely terrified his friends.
A monster, huh, he thought darkly. In the Void, the Beast licked its lips and tore open a gashing wound on its arm, letting blackened blood fall into the abyss of memories, knowledge, pain and suffering that was his repressed trauma. I'll give them a monster, it growled; face obscured and red eyes shining.
I'll tear him to pieces.
"This is what scared you?!" Asuka yelled just outside the pyramid. Hikari flinched, blushing deep crimson at the offending finger thrown her way. "Are you serious?!"
"He tried to bite me!" Hikari replied, feeling mortified at the way her friend so incredulously stared at her. "I just wanted to give him some leftovers and he started growling and then… then when I tried to get close he barked and he almost bit my hand!"
She saw Asuka roll her eyes and signal for her to come closer. The wind gushed through the crater, caressing Hikari's thinly protected shoulders in a very pleasant way. As far as she remembered, it was the coldest winter they'd had; some small clouds of vapor rose when she spoke, which made the spectacle all the more entertaining to her.
She was jumpy nowadays, very much so. Scared most of the time, sure, but the terrors actually came down once she woke and Touji was not there beside her anymore, and was instead in his room speaking to Kensuke or going to physical therapy. She was constantly afraid of walking around the corner to see men point their guns at her, push her to the ground and electrocute her just for fun. The fear of running into the big, crooked-teethed monster who haunted her dreams was just as acute; moreover, the slightest unexpected touch, even coming from her own sisters, would force a shudder or jolt out of her.
With the most recent crisis Hikari had realized that she was not, in fact, alone at all; she never had been. There was family, there were friends around her, helping her, worrying over her recovery, supporting her at every step. Hesitant brown eyes placed themselves on the figure who proudly split up her most recent fear without a drop of uncertainty.
"Hikari, for Gott's sake, these are just Shinji's mutts!" Asuka her long hair out of her eyes; the very movement alerted the dogs immediately and made them shy away from the girls' direct path. "They don't really like anyone else, but they won't bite." she clarified, sitting on the grass. A good pack of about twelve half-starved dogs, big and small, circled the area surrounding the crops. The dogs would occasionally chase the random squirrel, rat or similar rodent trying to eat the vegetables.
"S-Shinji's mutts?" asked Hikari, and hesitantly sat next to Asuka, who had long since stretched out her legs. "What do you mean?"
Asuka shrugged and urged the offending hound, a big brown mix breed with a giant head to come closer. To Hikari's surprise the dog hesitantly sniffed Asuka's hand, and having found something it deemed trustworthy, allowed her to grab its muzzle and scratch under its jaw as its tongue lolled out the side. She must have noticed her unbelieving gape, for Asuka smirked confidently and patted the dog's head. "I smell like the Baka," she explained, giving a few more pats before shooing the large hound away. "That's what you get when you sleep next to someone for weeks on end. They're not all that mean, but they really only like him. They just tolerate me."
"Oh." Blinking, Hikari noticed how the dogs gave them space, the complete opposite behavior to all the sniffing and growling they'd sent her way. "How come you say they're his?"
Once again, Asuka shrugged, eyes thoughtful and dazed. "When he was admitted here after…" Hikari noticed how the girl's very aura began to ooze regret and shame at the statement within seconds. "After…what I did… to him, uhmm… well, he only ever got to go out in the areas around the stupid pyramid, so he ended up running into these mutts one day when he was… you know…"
Asuka sighed, and for once Hikari could not deny the acute pain the memory brought to her friend. "When he was recovering. One day he brought them some food, and then he asked the cooking staff to put their edible leftovers in a bag for him, and he made a habit of coming out here and feeding them to improve his breathing and condition. Now, pff, he even gets them actual dog food." Despite the somber tone of the conversation, Hikari noticed a small smile draw itself on her friend's face. "He's just too nice, that idiot. These mutts love him; they follow him around and bark and drool all over his face. I think he's got a knack for animals. Pen-Pen seems to love him just as much."
Some of the dogs had chosen to stand guard over them, it seemed, for four or five big hounds were sprawled on the grass with their heads on the ground but their ears standing at attention. "That sounds like something Ikari-kun would do," Hikari commented, glad to see a small smile instead of a guilty frown on Asuka's face. "I think they like you well enough, and I know for sure Pen-Pen loves you," she added, pointing at the big brown one, who had lain just a few feet away from the redhead.
"Eh." Asuka decided to drop to the grass and stare at the sky. "Pen's a friend. And these, they have to. They have to keep an eye out for the Alpha's ma- umm…" Hikari noticed how Asuka cut herself off mid-sentence, face going suspiciously red. "Ahem… the Alpha's friends."
A mischievous smile drew itself on Hikari's lips; the time had come. "The Alpha's what?" she asked, and stuck out her ear. "I didn't catch that. Did I just hear the word mate? And did you refer to Ikari-kun as the Alpha just now?"
Asuka blushed visibly and looked away, hands supporting her head. "I-I…" she mumbled while pretending nonchalance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Raising an unbelieving eyebrow, Hikari shifted herself sideways next to Asuka. "Are you seriously playing that card? After telling me you liked to touch Shinji? After so casually mentioning you sleep next to him on a... hmm, a daily basis?"
Asuka's right eye twitched in annoyance while her face finished coloring. Can't even begin to pretend, huh? Hikari thought, mischievous smile widening. "Come on, Asuka, you're not about to pull that one on me, are you?"
Her friend's lower lip kept scrunching up as if to close her mouth and prevent any valuable information from gushing out unexpectedly, whereas Hikari grinned even wider and began inching closer. Asuka shut her eyes and stuck out her chin. "Still don't know what you're talking about."
"You know," Hikari remarked while she lay down next to Asuka and redirected her gaze to the sky. "When Touji hugs me, it feels like the whole world doesn't matter, like I'm covered in a blanket of safety and nothing can ever harm me." No visible reaction was spotted in her friend's form. "And sometimes when he just… breathes out my name at night… it feels wonderful." She hummed to herself, enticed by the memory of the boy's arms around her, and the safety the simple action instilled in her.
"The Baka's not so scrawny anymore," she heard Asuka mention beside her after a few heartbeats. Stealing a glance, Hikari noticed the girl was still averting her eyes and in fact had closed them, but there was no pouting frown on her face. "He's got some level of muscle mass now, but it's soft, natural muscle, like he's designed for endurance sports, hmm… like running marathons or beating the shit out of people, maybe." One blue eye crept open to stare at her levelly. "Sometimes after I've had a bad dream, he hugs me so tight I feel like he's pushing all the broken pieces of me together, and mending them."
Both girls blushed deeply at the declaration, and both averted their eyes; Asuka stared at the clouds ahead, and Hikari's gaze quickly went to a small dog sleeping about six feet away from her. She loved Touji's hugs and felt safe, surely, but to feel the broken pieces of herself be repaired by someone's company? It was a level beyond that which she could fathom or knew. "That… sounds lovely, Asuka," she managed after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "Quite ominous, to be honest."
Asuka's face became even redder; the girl shrugged with apparent trouble. "I guess," she said, scratching a cheek absently. "I think it's silly to try and hide it and this point, but…"
"You look happy, you know," Hikari remarked with ease. Asuka blinked and gave her a questioning look. Offering a shrug of her own, she extended a hand to the clouded sky. "You smile more often, you're not cranky all the time, you're, umm... being really nice to me after what happened, and…" A small smile drew itself on her lips. "And Ikari-kun looks really happy too. I don't want to intrude or anything, but if I were to guess…"
"It's like that," Asuka answered, surprising her. She had not expected Hikari to admit anything, much less so easily or in such a casual manner. "It's… kinda serious…"
A curious eyebrow shot in the air. "Really now?"
It was strange and more than a little disturbing to see Asuka behave like a regular teenage girl and blush, looking away and pretending to hide her obvious infatuation with Shinji. Even more disturbing was to hear her speak of the subject with her, or anyone for that matter. How much… did you go through to get to this point, Asuka? How much did it hurt?
Even the cute way in which Asuka's face twitched was both off-putting and intriguing. "I… yeah."
"So how long do you think… you know… that you've felt that way?" The new information was beginning to make Hikari giddy for some reason. Asuka, admitting to feeling anything more than annoyance and hatred for her little Baka-Shinji? It was unprecedented and shocking beyond belief.
"Dunno," Asuka answered, who clearly fought to maintain a sense of nonchalance. "Maybe two years… give or take a few months…"
"What?!" Hikari snapped, completely shocked. "What do you mean, two years?"
Crossing her arms, Asuka huffed in what resembled exasperation. "Yeah, well, I guess this day would come sometime. There it is, you get to say 'I knew it.' Today is the day you get to gloat."
"A-Asuka, do you mean to tell m-"
"I don't mean to tell you anything, I'm telling you that it's like you suspected. It's like everyone in that stupid school said. It's worse, I think…" Asuka made eye contact, letting Hikari see the seriousness in her statement. "I think it might be the big one."
Hikari's jaw slacked. "No."
"Yup." Asuka continued to stare at the sky and pretend what she was saying was no important news of any kind, or something to fret over.
"No, you're kidding…" Hikari watched Asuka shake her head, as if deep in thought. "Don't tell me…"
"Yeah."
The silliest grin of her life drew itself on Hikari's face. "Two years?! But Asuka-chan, you met Ikari-kun two years ago. You mean that since then… and how did you know? What did you feel? Did it feel like your heart had stopped beating, were you unable to breathe? I need to know every detail!" She sat up in a hurry, alerting their small, protective entourage of mutts. Asuka, for her part, stuck out her chin once more and closed her right eye.
"You're not gloating," she remarked to Hikari in quiet surprise. "How come?"
"Aw, come on, Asuka. We're past that!" said Hikari. The excitement was beginning to dissipate the crushing fear which had taken over her for the last few days. "Pretty pleaaaase, I just want to know the details!"
Asuka sat up and crossed her arms. Hikari noticed how her right hand shot up to unconsciously touch something on her left shoulder. "Umm…" Even more bizarre was to see Asuka think twice before speaking; this was something Shinji did all the time. He collected his thoughts nowadays, and tried to speak with the least amount of hesitance possible. And now Asuka was beginning to take after said behavior. "I don't remember feeling… excited, or nervous, or anything like that. When I first saw him, the first thing I thought was 'this is the Third Child who defeated two Angels without proper training? This?' And then of course, your little boyfriend decided to drop his pants. All in all, I wasn't in the least bit impressed."
Hikari's cheeks colored. "W-Well in his defense, he said you slapped them all first."
Snickering at the memory, Asuka nodded. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"You know," said Hikari. "Touji told me that he and Kensuke were looking at your, umm… you know…"
"Underwear?" Asuka snidely finished, smirking.
"Yeah!" Hikari agreed, but colored even more. "B-But he told me something else." When Asuka raised a questioning eyebrow, Hikari let loose the big guns. "He told me Shinji was just watching your face like it was water and he was a fish dying on shore. I... think that's how he put it." Objective achieved, she thought with pride as crimson expanded on her friend's face. "But really, no sparks, no nothing?"
Asuka shook her head and directed her eyes to the sky, seemingly pondering after her last question had been voiced out. For her part, she recalled only feeling… calm. At ease. Being with Shinji in the entry plug, dragging him along to see Unit 02, forcing him into one of her plugsuits; even when the excitement of her first battle had been pumping adrenaline through her veins, there had been peace in his presence.
"I felt… calm. Like it was meant to be, like it was nothing. Like meeting him was just something that had to happen. Then, when we moved in together and I started to actually get to know him, I… I started to be… ahem… interested in him."
"Is that why you were always glowering at him when he watched Rei-chan in the classroom?" Hikari inquired next, hoping the fiery woman would not combust at the question.
"I guess…" Having uncrossed her arms, Hikari noticed how Asuka's hand remained on her shoulder, massaging a space above her clavicle. "Made me jealous, to have him ogle her every day. I mean, he was living with me! What the hell was so damn intriguing about that stupid doll back then?!"
"Ikari-kun has been watching her ever since he arrived in Tokyo 3," Hikari explained, cutting off the sudden bad mood. "He wanted to know why she looked so… thoughtful all the time, but never worked up the courage to ask her."
Asuka's palm moved from her shoulder to her forehead. "Ugh, it's to be expected from those two. It's only logical that they're siblings."
"You know," Hikari commented, remembering a phrase she had read once in one of her older sister's notebooks. "The Buddhists say that if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake and your knees go weak, it's not the one. When you meet your… soul mate, you'll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation, just… peace."
The comment clearly made Asuka uncomfortable, which in turn forced the foolish, wolfish grin to widen. "Ah… w-well, that just sounds like some crap you find in a fortune cookie."
"I guess…" Hikari mumbled, letting the matter drop; details were, after all, of greater importance. "So when did you start to… I don't know… like him?"
Asuka let her right arm shoot up to the sky, blocking the dim light that managed to get through the clouds. One blink and she'd see it; her arm was split with such ease, like her flesh and bones had been warm butter. But in the slight reflection of brightness, staring at the shadow of her hand, Asuka recalled watching Shinji move into a closet with almost no complaint; forcing himself into a stupid-looking costume and being on the receiving end of endless bickering for days, just to be successful in their training. "When we were training for the Seventh Angel I realized I wanted his attention on me," she said. "I didn't like him looking at the First and… working so well with her so easily. Kinda made me feel like I didn't belong among them, but then the Idiot came and apologized and… I don't know, it fell on me that he was actually nice."
"You know, my sisters have always told me you're supposed to be mean to the boy you like and ignore him, and if he comes to you then you might get somewhere." Pondering on her sister's advice was odd enough, even more mentioning it to Asuka. "Is that why you were so mean to him all the time?"
"Sort of," Asuka conceded. "But it wasn't all of it. I was… I am… kinda messed up. Very messed up. I liked him, and I hated liking him."
Hikari blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Asuka then frowned, truly frowned, in disappointed anger more than blind rage, yet it darkened her face nonetheless. "I was jealous of him. I was trained since I was a child, forced to do all sorts of drills, combat training and exhausting synch tests for years, and he never got so much as instructions. All my training, all my knowledge and… he was the best. So easily, and yet he hated it. EVA was my life then, and he hated it. So I convinced myself that I hated him too."
"But you didn't really," said Hikari, lips curving into a small smile. "Did you?"
Asuka smirked and chortled. "Nah, not really. It was impossible to really hate him when he was always so fucking nice, and… when we walked back from school we'd talk, you know, just talk, and it'd feel… wonderful. It made me think for the first time in my life… that there could be something outside of EVA. I kept making excuses to hate him while sending him mixed signals and… I never really stopped to think that maybe he wasn't all that good with social interaction, you know."
Hikari's placid smile widened. "And what about Ikari-kun's cooking? Did that play a role?"
Asuka gave her a sidelong glance, seemingly bored out of her mind, and lay back on the grass. "I guess, but that was after Third Impact," she admitted. "Before, I was too wrapped up in being a top pilot and a general bitch to everyone to notice how delicious it was, but after everything went to shit… sometimes knowing he'd be cooking dinner would be the only positive thing of my day."
The only positive thing of her day. Hikari believed her; Asuka had no parents to come to her room and console her when she fell into a coma. When she was shot, she did not have family and siblings fussing and worrying constantly that her recovery was going well. Misato and Shinji were about the only people who concerned themselves with her. Even she, the Class Rep and Asuka's only female friend in Tokyo, had taken her time to decide whether to visit her. Conversely, Asuka had not hesitated for a second to stand guard by her bed with Shinji, both holding weapons to make her feel safe. And now she said the only positive thing in her days after Third Impact was the food Shinji went to unthinkable lengths to prepare.
"I was stupid," she heard Asuka admit. "I had something perfect right there, just waiting for me, and I tainted it. If only… if only I hadn't been such a horrible bitch to him before… if I had only treated him with the most basic human kindness…"
"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Hikari remarked, touching the girl's hand with her fingertips. "The only person who's entitled to be hard on you is Ikari-kun, and he looks happy enough to pass for a regular teen lately." She offered the hand a reassuring squeeze. "You wouldn't be yourself if you hadn't gone through whatever made you make… those mistakes, and I think that's the person that Ikari-kun cares so much for."
An elegant eyebrow rose once more in question. "What do you mean?" Asuka asked with a serious tone.
"Ikari-kun is really attracted to your courage," said Hikari with trepidation, slightly abashed by Asuka's piercing gaze. Well, she's been nothing but honest and true to her word, I can't offer any less. "But I believe he really likes being able to… umm… help you… it gives him purpose, I think. He looks really happy that you've finally let him in."
"It was about damn time," said Asuka. "He kept us alive, and I kept him… in reality, I guess. However messed up and painful and twisted it became… we survived." A heartbeat, and the she said "Together. Just him… and me."
It then occurred to Hikari that Asuka had had no social experience with anyone her age up until the moment she had arrived in Japan; she had never had close friends, or played as a child with others after her seventh birthday. No hide and seek, no doll houses or board games, just her getting better at piloting so as to be a better soldier. Hikari was aware that deep down in her core, the proud pilot had a very, very low opinion of herself and was resolutely convinced everyone would leave her at some point in time. Everyone had left. Everyone... except for Shinji; the quiet, shy, respectful boy who hated being the center of attention, who hated piloting where she loved it, that boy had stayed put. Regardless of what poisonous parts of her soul Asuka had shown, he remained by her side. Shinji was her family, her only family.
Hikari's heart broke in two at the realization. It came as no surprise how they both preferred to keep their matters private; nobody had helped them, not even Misato-san who'd been so busy attempting to keep the city from collapsing. All they had had was one another after Third Impact had taken whatever remained of their sanity and emotions. All they had, all they ever had, was each other.
Even when Shinji had been but a shadow of his former self, dragging along the weight of the world and a guilt Hikari could never fathom, he had offered whatever remained of his soul and self to Asuka. When Asuka had needed company, he had stayed regardless of the beatings or insults. When Asuka had needed comfort, he had turned himself into a comfort toy for her. And now, when Shinji needed a fire to guide him in the darkness, an anchor to hold himself when the shadows of his subconscious came calling, Asuka was there. She had recovered her former confidence, if not a healthier version of it, and nowadays shone like a torch.
Just him… and me…
"It's no wonder you guys say nobody has any right to get involved in your business," Hikari said at last, earning a surprised, albeit bored look from Asuka. "I think you're right. And… I'm really happy for you, for the both of you."
Then, Asuka smiled. It lacked malice, Hikari noticed; the smile held neither sarcasm nor any ill-intention. It was sincere, and pure. "Thanks," Asuka replied, and redirected her gaze towards the clouds. "It's nice to see him smile."
The saddest people smile the brightest, Asuka. Misato had told her so a few days before, in one of their obligatory 'family therapy' sessions and the comment had escaped her mouth; Shinji seldom smiled truly or honestly. Most were uncomfortable smirks which drew themselves on his lips when he did not quite know how to react. Lately, though, he had been offering Asuka that stupid little expression where he closed his eyes and grinned like a child. It always managed to rouse the damn insects nesting in her gut and send them flying around her belly. There was some form of unspoken magnetism in that smile of his; a sense of beautiful gravity which compelled her to stay by his side, even when the thought was as terrifying as being a frightened rabbit under the watchful, hungered gaze of a starved wolf.
"I should be the one thanking you, Asuka-chan," said Hikari. "You've never been so… open about, well… anything before."
"Meh," Asuka conceded. "For all I know we could all die in a week, or an hour, or a year. I guess it does feel a bit… liberating… to share this with someone else. Well, not just someone," she added, daring a sidelong glance in Hikari's direction. "I guess it's kind of nice that it was you."
The sudden burst of unease and fear began to bubble out of her; the memory of the dark room, the men and women laughing, the blood, the screams and grunts, it erupted like a cauldron of unwanted emotion which had simmered too much and was now boiling, being ignored for far too long. She shivered when the image of that boy, with a face covered in blood and the white of his eyes and teeth shining disturbingly as he laughed with a knife in his hand, cut through her memory like a hot knife. The Grim Reaper, the Boogie Man, Death, Lilith herself; it was all in those deranged brown eyes that looked so much like hers, and yet held no resemblance at all.
As if sensing her sudden horror, Asuka sat back up and put a strong hand on her shoulder. "Hikari," she said in a low tone, lightly shaking her shoulder.
Hikari blinked heavily and shook her head, trying to dissipate the image of that smirk of sickening glee. This man who touched you, he's gonna die right now. Look. Look. He's dead. Dead. Dead. Why had he, a man so evil, bothered to save her? Why had he bothered to kill that man, why had he bothered to show her? "Huh?"
"You said that the boy who saved you guys was a bad person," said Asuka. "Do you think Shinji and I could take him in a fight?"
Trapped in the recollection of how the boy had butchered trained soldiers and had made it appear… easy, Hikari unconsciously shook her head. "That… that boy… he's…" A sinister smile, an artistic bow, crimson liquid dripping off his face and hair. Brown eyes that shone red under the dim light. "He's the devil."
She heard shuffling all around her as the dogs stood when Asuka raised herself off the ground and offered her left hand, which Hikari grabbed. She stood without being fully aware of it, yet the tugging of her hand drove frightened, dilated brown eyes to electric cerulean filled with a certainty she did not understand.
Asuka glanced at the crater, recalling the horrors within Shinji's chest, the dark smile he had worn whilst crushing her windpipe in the kitchen before Third Impact began. "I'll have to correct you on that one, Hikari-chan," she said. As her only female friend stared questioningly at her, a confident smirk quickly took over her features.
"He may as well be the devil. But we've defeated gods and angels already. This is our home, and we'll protect it, even from Lucifer himself."
The dogs followed as both girls made their way back to the Geofront. With a final glance at the crater, Asuka was lulled to calmness; Shinji would never let anyone harm her, or any of their friends. He would die first, and so would she. She had never truly bothered to understand the Japanese culture at all, but in Shinji's diligence and commitment there was something tangible, a compromise which bound his very soul and existence in the way the samurai of old had dedicated their lives to a shogun. Despite his evasive and shy nature, when stirred, Shinji was as frightening as a lone samurai in a field of death, wielding a sword while he bled from numerous wounds and countless bodies lay at his feet. The gaping crater around her appeared to agree with her assessment.
She stared toward the skies, daring the poor bastard who had traumatized her friend to put a single foot in her house, in their house. "We're waiting, you son of a bitch," she muttered, glaring up at the clouds. "Come and get some."
Tanaka threw the paper with his bets on the ground and stomped them with vehemence.
Hokkaido. January 17th, Pride Fighting Championship. 10.07pm
Being rookie night in Hokkaido, and having their local and national champions defend their titles in the featherweight, lightweight, welter and middleweight divisions against martial artists from other countries, the event had been promising enough. In the midst of war, the only positive aspect of his life at the moment was the chance to attend and have ring-side seats courtesy of his NERV connections. He had always been a fan of martial arts, yet had dedicated his life to feeding actual killing machines than becoming one himself.
Days before he had been forced to prepare a damn feast for the new additions to the medical ward. Specifically, the little brown-haired girl who was annoyingly good at cooking and obnoxiously polite, just like the Ikari brat. More work, repaid in kind with plenty of sake for his crew and many words of thanks from the Brat himself who had been too preoccupied with baking next to the red girl to actually cook, had been the man's first payment. Even if the day had been pleasant, he had ended up drunk and exhausted, actually shaking the Brat's hand and admitting the boy's cooking was acceptable. The current evening had been a part of his present for aiding in the birthday celebration of one Horakii Hikari, yet another day of smiles and laughs for the brats he had seen scream, cry and suffer for months.
The night, his night, however, had been anything but what Matsuhiro Tanaka had expected.
He glowered at the ring; he had bet four thousand yen on their champion Kawajiri Tatsuya, only to have some nobody foreigner climb into the ring wrapped in a bearskin and destroy him within three rounds. The fight had been so vicious that from his proximity to the ring, Tanaka had heard the distinctive sound of Tatsuya's jaw breaking after a savage left hook. One head kick to the temple and the man had collapsed in a heap of stiff limbs and white eyes. His opponent, a dark-skinned, thinly muscled brat with more scars than skin on his body, was unfazed and circled the ring like a hungry bear waiting for the meal to come.
The boy had taken the microphone away from their host and screamed his victory in glee, demanding he be served more 'fresh meat'. He bellowed to everyone in attendance to bet either for or against him, and that he'd take on any fighter who ever so wished to climb in the ring, mixed martial artist or no. Omigawa, their best judoka, had accepted the challenge almost immediately, so Tanaka bet on the man instead.
The bell rang. Omigawa closed the distance with efficiency and attempted to throw the brat to the mat by anchoring his heels on the boy's legs, yet the scarred opponent grinned, escaped the lock with relative ease and ended up taking the man himself to the ground. A few seconds afterwards Omigawa's desperate screams were heard through the arena. Even as he tapped, the boy did not relinquish his kimura hold until the man's arm had snapped. A straight left to the jaw and Omigawa was silent.
One by one the attendants of that night's events climbed in the ring; one by one they were destroyed. The boy grappled with judokas, brawled with boxers and kick-boxers, went to the ground with jiu-jitsu experts and came out victorious in every single bout. What was worse, he never just won; the foreign brat made certain to injure every adversary in whichever painful way he saw fit. Some would receive dreadful cuts above their eyes from elbows like razors, broken ribs from vicious body blows, purple legs from blocking the boy's savage kicks. Others would get their joints dislocated or bones broken, and most would end up with a shattered nose or jaw, bleeding out. The entertainment quickly turned into a horror show for the NERV Head of Cuisine. When Okami's turn came, the then Pride Middleweight Champion, the ring's mat was more crimson than white.
The champion offered great resistance; he fought for two rounds and managed to not only hit, but kick and gain momentum on the seemingly exhausted challenger, yet Tanaka's eye twitched upon noticing the way the boy was not actively dodging; instead, he stared the champion down and measured up his timing. Okami even opened up a gash under the boy's right eye with a well-placed elbow during a clinch, but the foreigner fought unaffected. On the third round, and having measured up Okami's speed and rhythm, the boy began to throw perfectly measured counters, forcing the champion back with the sheer violence of his timed hooks. Every time a hook would land Okami's legs shook; the champion would be forced to create a gap and soon, was trapped in a corner.
"That's it?!" Tanaka heard the boy roar at their champion with a heavy, thick accent. "What about Death before Dishonor, you bitch?! I've beaten every single one of your fucking champions tonight! You gonna run away too?! Come on, bitch! Fight!" he yelled, punctuating his taunts with punches.
The next hook sneaked right through Okami's defense and slammed against his temple. The man's legs buckled, and a left hook sent his mouthpiece flying. Tanaka was close enough to the ring to be sprinkled by warm blood when the scarred boy unleashed a fierce barrage of punches and kicks, not once letting the already unconscious champion hit the mat. In the end, with a minute and four seconds left in the last round, the referee forced the boy away.
Okami fell on the mat like a sack of potatoes. A small puddle of blood began forming beside the man's head. He was not breathing.
"Is this it?!" Once more taking the microphone, the boy spat out his own mouthpiece and signaled at the crowd. "Is this seriously it?! Don't you Japanese fuckers have some sense of honor and pride beyond any other? Come on, there's gotta be someone! I don't even care if you bring a gun to the ring! Come on! I'm starving here! Feed me some more!"
Disgusted, insulted and now effectively out of his mood, Tanaka stood and began to leave the arena, same as the rest of the attendants. The very sight of the crimson mat made him sick; the sensation of their champion's blood on his clothing made him sick. The dissatisfaction ran deeper as he saw men take off their shirts, pick up sticks, pipes, and knives and march over to the arena's center. Before he even left the building the appalling screams of pain and agony were discernible through the now empty area.
Even worse than the screams of his compatriots, however, was the deafening laughter of the boy who stood in the center of the mat, covered in blood. Bodies now lay on the tattered surface, not breathing, not moving, and only working to stain the material further.
Once the laughter had died down, and the last wheezing breaths of the boy's latest victims had been exhaled, Nakamura approached the ring.
"Coach," said Dmitri, licking his dripping gloves. "Bring me some more meat. I'm still hungry."
The man scrunched up his face in disgust. "You're cut off. These are men, not things. They are not bags for you to beat on, agent."
"See, that's where you're wrong." The boy extended his left arm to Nakamura, knuckles cracking loudly, and offered a chilling smirk. "You don't get it… it's so close that I can taste it. I can feel him getting close to me! Just waiting for it is making the blood boil in my veins and burn, I can't wait. I can't. I need meat to keep myself… controlled." He picked up a victim by the neck and squeezed his windpipe. "And regarding your outdated, pathetic, senseless concern for these shits here..."
The boy killer kicked the dead man in the face, clutched his chest with the right hand, gripping the base of his stomach as though it burned, and opened his eyes impossibly wide to glare at the suited man. "They're all meat," he said, closing both hands into fists. "And I'm the butcher."
January the 18th, 2017. NERV Command Center. Synch and Combat Test no. 8
Ritsuko glared vehemently at the Video Feed, eyes crossed and teeth grinding together.
The time was up. SEELE had mobilized their armies, which were not as scarce or disarrayed as she had initially considered. If the numbers the government had given were correct there were about two hundred thousand soldiers and mercenaries in the organization's ranks, complete with destroyers, carriers that had launched about a hundred jets to the skies, tanks, long-range cannons, and two submarines. The only thing comforting her at the moment was the lack of any recognizable cargo ship or airplane handling the transport of the monstrosity that was Project X.
The command center was thick with tension, and for once it had nothing to do with the red mecha being lowered to the Graveyard and what she normally referred to as 'the big dump' underneath their feet. After a large number of demands, both in paper and in person, provided by the Second Child's unnaturally loud voice, Ritsuko had grudgingly accepted to allow the pilots the use of said dump to better comprehend not only the dual synch system, but also become more skilled piloting their demi-god.
"You know," Misato said from behind her, "the kids are grateful that you helped their friends."
As if the company of the feared Sub-Commander was not enough of a headache, the woman had insisted on bringing the friends of her annoying brats to the command center. The geek with the glasses kept asking Maya what every button did, and where, exactly, the self-destruct button was, the bull-built raccoon with a cast was glowering at Ritsuko from a distance while holding hands with the pig-tailed little girl who had aggravated her patient not too long ago.
"What your brats feel or don't feel couldn't be less of my problem right now," Ritsuko growled back under her breath. "I did little else than jam the serum in their veins, anyhow. They should be thankful to you, not me. You're the one who threatened the Emperor with letting Asuka squash all of Tokyo if you didn't get access to the government's mainframe."
She was caught up with watching the EVA descend down endless corridors and floors, so Ritsuko never saw the confident smirk on Misato's face. For once, her friend did not look ready to fall asleep on the spot or shoot anybody, which in itself was a gift from the gods. Ever since Christmas, and her sneaky discovery of Asuka's secret agenda for the day, she had been unnaturally happy and satisfied with life in general. Sure, rescuing her children' friends had been stressful and mind-numbing, but the meals Shinji had thanked her with had more than paid for the effort.
"Shin-chan's been spoiling me lately," Misato admitted with ease. "That's enough."
"Whatever you say," Ritsuko snapped back. She pressed the button to activate the comm. "Okay brats, there you go, eighth round courtesy of our dearest tax-payers."
True enough, in the video feed every attendant saw Unit 02 climb out from the procured line to descend and stretch in a very Asuka-like form. "Guh," came the disgruntled growl from the female pilot. "That crap takes forever. Explain to me again why I can't just jump into this place?"
The teenagers and Sub-Commander behind her snickered, which only worked to worsen Ritsuko's headache. "Advisor, if you'd be so kind."
Ikari Gendou cleared his throat, eyes lost in his small device. "While it remains true that the Unit would survive the fall unscathed, the resulting impact could be detrimental to the general structure of the pyramid. We work on a 40% operability level as it is; any more unnecessary impacts to the Geofront and we could very well be reduced to…" The man checked some numbers on the PDA, pushing his glasses up. "26% operability. It would be in our best intere-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, major obvious. No need for the technicalities," the redhead interrupted the former Supreme Commander without a care in the world. "Jeez, Baka. Your father is such a douchebag."
"Tell me about it," Shinji said from his seat, causing snickers throughout the command center. "Good thing Rei-chan's pissed off at him. Hopefully she'll hit him in the balls, too."
"HA! I swear Baka, that should be the new way of inducting workers to NERV! Come on down, hit Ikari in the nuts and get a new year's bonus!"
Even Ritsuko herself snorted in amusement; insulting the now effectively powerless Gendou had become a favorite sport for their pilots. Rei, who stood to her right, took it upon herself to walk towards the MAGI and speak directly through the Comm. "I do not believe it necessary to damage Father's genitals," she answered.
"Booooooring!" Asuka retorted, still caught up in warming up with the EVA. "Honestly Blue, can't you be a little fun every now and then?"
Rei's cold, calculating grin was frightening enough to have Maya gulp beside her and Kensuke stare at her without blinking. "I do, however, believe a good hit in the face or body should become a custom for the organization. You see, if you assault his genitals too much, he might lose consciousness due to pain; however, if we target the… not so delicate areas, the custom can take as much as a whole day."
More laughter, loud and crisp, befell on Gendou, who shrugged it off with no visible damage to his pride or dignity. He did, however, make an effort to glare at those who were hollering a bit too hard, and was pleasantly surprised to see them gulp or shut up in fear. I believe I have not lost my touch, he thought with a certain level of pride.
"Ha! Gold! See that, Wondergirl, when you put your mind to it, you might actually pass for a half-decent gal with a minimal sense of humor!"
Rei's grin widened even more. "And if you keep making efforts of your own, Sohryu, you might actually become a half-decent pilot."
"Uhh, careful there Blue, you're cutting deep." Unit 02 finally took up a fighting stance and began practicing simple jabs. "If you keep it up I might be inclined to beat your ass in sparring again."
"May I remind you that as it stands, we are tied?" Rei answered, taking a second to notice how Shinji's friends tried and failed to contain their obvious joy in watching the exchange. "It may just as well occur that I… how did you put it again? Ah, yes, beat your ass instead."
"Yeah right, in your dreams, your half-decent judo crap is nothing against my jiu-jitsu, Blue."
"If judo were easy, Sohryu, it'd be called jiu-jitsu."
"Right, so… fuck you very, very much, and I'll be kicking your ass as soon as we're done here, okay?"
"Umm… girls… could you like, I don't know… stop beating the crap out of each other on a daily basis?" Shinji offered his opinion, which was promptly ignored by both females.
"Do not meddle, Nii-san."
"Yeah, Baka. We're having a competition here; you should just take my side and be done with it."
"How do you expect me to side against my sister? And besides, will you stop teaching her how to curse in your sparring sessions?"
"What?! When the fuck did I teach your sister how to curse, Baka!?"
"She just said ass right now!"
"Ohhh, and that's my fault, right?! Why don't you start by being a good role model and stop cursing yourself, huh?!"
"What? I'm a bad role model?!"
Ritsuko groaned loudly, Maya let out a current of snickers, Touji howled with potent laughter, Kensuke and Misato joined in, Hikari giggled, Ikari pushed his glasses up, and even Rei allowed a few laughs to escape her.
"They sound like a god damn married couple," Ishikawa boomed from his seat. "Hah! Oi, brats! When are we going to work, here?! I'm getting bored just listening to ya both bicker about how you're gonna suck face again!"
"Ugh." The reply was instant, and came simultaneously from both pilots. "Shut up, Sensei!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Ishikawa replied with a bark of mirth. "Let's go! Let me see some basic combinations; I want Muay Thai kicks and perfect boxing straights. I want unpredictable attacks, and a rising tempo. We have ten rounds, now get to work!"
"Hai, hai," Asuka focused her awareness on the knotted mass of muscle that was Unit 02's body, not exactly overjoyed at the fact that she was forced to stop drinking in the sensation of Shinji's warmth next to her. Instead, she breathed in deep and centered on the boy's thoughts and ideas.
Shinji was a born brawler, at least to her; he'd focus hard on the center of his chest where the claws and the rotting stench of decayed flesh were locked in, and ever so slowly the poison would crawl through the synch and bleed out into his awareness. It felt like liquid fire running through her veins, pumping through her limbs and pushing forward. It was powerful enough to make her slightly afraid; 2.0 had told her once after a synch test that if Shinji tried, he'd have little trouble synching deep enough to rouse the ungodly powers stored in its core and begin another Impact by sheer force and anger alone.
The thoughts came and went with the synch, and soon enough Unit 02 began to practice more complicated and mixed combinations, falling into Asuka's classical fight pattern. A jab followed by an uppercut and a flying back knee, a pivot to the left, two jabs and a cross followed by a cutting leg kick, a spinning elbow and two straight Wing Chung punches; the combinations began to mix together as they gained speed and their sensei called out the rounds and instructions of what he wanted. Asuka's train of thought was a bit disrupted by the words that popped into Shinji's mind during their training. DESTROY, CLAW, CRUSH, ENEMY, KILL; his fight pattern was nothing close to hers, and yet, as he put in the driving force of his anger, the AT-Field began to react.
They exchanged looks once a punch flew away with a barrage of AT-Field attached to it and punctured a crater in the titanium wall standing about four hundred meters away from them. A confident smirk on her part and an animalistic snarl on Shinji's face was enough for them both to fall into the practiced outline. Shinji's synch rate increased to 70% while hers stabilized at 105%, the point of balance they had discovered. Shinji focused on manifesting the AT-Field with the rage stored in him, whereas she guided both their minds through her improvised fighting pattern.
A heel kick produced another large crater on the wall, two punches in the skeletons' direction and they flew away; Asuka focused on her leg, to which Shinji immediately reacted and concentrated his energy on her limb. A normal leg kick aimed to unbalance her opponent manifested an AT-Field strong enough to slice a piece of concrete debris in half. Asuka's smirk widened. "Nice one, Baka," she complimented, jumping from foot to foot and dodging invisible punches. "Can you do that with my elbow strikes?"
"Uhm," Shinji growled and closed his eyes to focus on said areas. "Yeah, let me just…" He concentrated and extended his anger like a well-honed blade directly at Asuka's elbows.
The AT-Field slashes flew through the area, cutting up titanium, EVA bone material and stone with ease. The teens continued; Asuka would occasionally relinquish control and let Shinji practice his boxing and Wing Chung. She had noticed ever since waking up that morning that Shinji was more than a bit pissed off and depressed, despite his silence, so she let him blow off steam and fill the area with craters. His knuckles certainly were something to be wary off; they'd bubble and burn all the way to her own hands, and the force of his punches was enough to damage the EVA's own bones.
In the command center, loud exclamations of surprise, shock and awe reverberated through the halls. Unit 02's destructive abilities were beyond anything they had ever seen; a simple kick held sufficient power to crack four layers of concrete walls, a punch was enough to imprint a crater, the mere thought of expanding its AT-Field was pressuring the already damaged infrastructure of the building, and the pilots' ability to synch with one another was speeding up the EVA's attacks so much that even the gigantic mecha seemed lightning fast.
All in all, after the 'dump' had been thoroughly destroyed, the crew and NERV personnel felt a little bit more optimistic about their direct future. Ritsuko, however, kept glaring at the video feed long after the pilots were dispatched and the command center began to empty. She stayed behind, not even noticing Misato's presence, and began ordering the MAGI to work on the newly-collected data. Ikari left the room after a quick chat regarding the EVA's speed of response and the positive improvement in the synch rates.
Fifty-seven thousand soldiers, she pondered while analyzing the spikes and dips in the core's energy after the AT-Field's expansions and the regeneration on the hands. Anti-aircraft weaponry, shields, walls, experimental AT-Field generators, core-piercing ammo, and one fucking sentient Evangelion. The odds were majorly stacked against them, even with Unit 02; the city's infrastructure was barely habitable, the evacuation had taken its economic toll on her not so very considerable assets, and housing many of them in the pyramid's vicinity so as to avoid the shelters in the surrounding cities was costing even more money. I was a multi-billionaire, and now I'm barely a millionaire. Shit, war sure is expensive… Still, I don't think we can win.
She was scribbling down the last of her data when Misato's voice distracted her. "Hey Ritz!" The note was stabbed violently by her pen. Son of a bitch. "How's our commander preparing for the incoming invasion, hmm?"
"Ignoring the hell out of you and your brats, that's how," Ritsuko replied absently. "What do you want, Misato? I'm a little busy here."
A familiar hand fell on her shoulder, distracting her yet again. "It's okay, Ritsu, I know the numbers. We're fucked."
"Majorly," Ritsuko agreed; the hand offered a friendly pat.
"Have some faith in them," Misato offered, turning to read her schematics and scowling at the numbers. "They'll win, I'm sure of it."
"I'm a scientist, Misato; that means I don't work with faith. I work with numbers, and our numbers are pathetic, at best. We have no trustworthy allies, and if we threaten to use nuclear force the UN will personally see our executions through."
She heard a heavy sigh to her right side. "Come on, Ritsu. Let it be, let's go have a drink together. It may be our lasts, you know."
The Commander's tired eyes glanced at her old friend. No matter how she read it, the numbers would continue to be against them. "You know what," she muttered, massaging her temple. "You go ahead and get Maya to have a drink with us. I'll close up things me some actual whiskey this time."
"Aye aye, Commander! That's more like it! See ya then!" It was almost impossible not to smile or be infected by the woman's positive energy; of course she'd be calm and ready when her brats were actually behaving like brats instead of twisted, deranged adults.
"Have some faith, huh," she mumbled, staring at the digitized image of Unit 02's face. 'S' had told her the exact same phrase during their final exchange. Help would come sooner or later, the unknown entity had promised. Faith. Faith in victory, in the Children, Faith in life. I never was much for faith, anyway, but... Her eyes addressed the bullet holes imprinted in the wall behind her. "I guess that's all we have right now."
0
While walking back from the Gym after finishing her spar with Rei, Asuka heard something slam itself loudly against a surface a few meters away with a resounding clang. Her curiosity spiked, so the female pilot followed the sound inside the halls of their training area; a systematic, timed thud every ten or twelve seconds reverberated through the area where the heavy weights were stored.
THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.
She paused at the door upon noticing it was Shinji who was making the noise; Asuka then hid behind the entrance and observed. Shinji was holding a sledgehammer in both hands; he'd lift it and drop the heavy construction tool on a tire, producing the noise she had heard. He was exercising his left side, from what she could see. The two long, diagonal scars moved alongside his thin muscle mass; she found herself worrying that he might overstretch muscles that were still not completely healed or open up the gaping hole she had so eagerly provided in his lung, heart, or diaphragm. Yet despite the sudden, crushing concern that had her biting her lip and wishing he'd just stop, Shinji kept on pounding the tire without respite nor any sign of pain, snarling with every vicious strike.
Eyes widening, Asuka remembered. Shinji doesn't feel pain when he's really mad. He doesn't feel anything else but the need to punch or squeeze away whatever made him snap.
THUD. THUD. THUD. "Arrrrg!" THUD. "You!" THUD. "Damn!" THUD. "Bastard!" THUD. "I'll!" THUD. "Kill you!" THUD. "You!" THUD. "Dare!" THUD. "Hurt!" THUD. "My… friends?!" THUD.
Stop, her mind begged, in a form not unlike the voice she had heard whisper in her ear every single time she had gravely insulted or abused him. Stop it, you idiot, you're not gonna get anywhere doing that! Stop! You'll hurt yourself! Her body reacted on instinct, walking away from her preferred hiding place and marching straight to where he was training, or rather letting out his frustration.
Inwardly, Asuka recalled that a few months before, she would not have bothered to notice how much he was exerting himself. Bullshit, the normally quiet part of her mind snarled. You noticed. You always noticed. Every kilogram he lost, every bruise he got that you didn't give, every time he fell to the ground from exhaustion, every time he threw up, every single fucking time he didn't eat, just so you'd have more food, every hour he spent out in the rain, or the hot sun, looking for something you'd like, something to brighten your permanent fucking period. When had she entered the gymnasium? Why was she walking towards him, when the very expression Shinji had on his face was enough to stop every one of her basic instincts or fighting reflexes? You noticed every little damn thing, and you chose to do nothing.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Her hand shot up and grabbed Shinji's shoulder. Enough.
"Shinji," she whispered, trembling noticeably and realizing it had taken but a touch to grind his rage to a halt. "Stop."
The snarl on his face turned animalistic for a second, his arms shook and muscles tensed while the adrenaline burned out in his veins, and then he glanced her way and the snarl melted into a painful, regretful expression. There was a loud clang when the sledgehammer impacted against the ground; Shinji said not a word, so she guided him over to the benches, where she had him sit and began loosening the stiff mass of stress on his back and shoulder.
"How many times did you hit that thing?" she dully asked, working the tense muscles of his arm.
Guilt and what she assumed to be shame flashed over Shinji's already miserable looking face. "I don't know…" he muttered, eyes glued to the floor. "Thirty times with my right arm, and thirty with the left, and then I kinda lost count…"
Asuka found some loose skin between both his scars and pinched, hard. "You're such a freaking idiot," she snapped, moving to his upper back. "You're gonna tear a muscle if you keep pushing yourself like this. What the hell are you expecting to accomplish if you can't even lift your arms?"
Despite feeling useless, crushed, depressed and angry, Shinji found himself chuckling lightly. "You're right, as always," he answered. His right hand sought Asuka's left, trapped it and brought her knuckles to his lips. "Sorry."
He felt her forehead collide painfully with the side of his head, and her arm hang loose around his sweated back. "Ba-Ka."
"Do you think we have a shot?" Shinji asked out of nowhere; she felt his shoulder tighten up. "Hikari-chan must've told you about him by now, right?"
Nodding, Asuka scooted closer to him. "Yeah, she told me alright. She said he's the devil."
Shinji's eyes looked pensive, glazed in deep thought, but strangely enough there was no recognizable fear in his features. "Touji said he killed trained soldiers like it was nothing. I know it's him. He shot you, he kidnapped our friends for fun, he traumatized them for fun," Shinji's left hand began to clench and unclench. "He's hurt just about everyone I care about except Misato-san."
"How do you know this guy?" Asuka asked, poking him in the cheek. "And how do you know he's the one who shot me?"
Shinji's eyes dropped back to the ground, and for a second Asuka could picture it; a mane of hair bristling on his back, red eyes gleaming in the shadows, a growl deep and feral, and the smell of rotting flesh. "He called me on your birthday," He said with a voice so deep it barely resembled him at all. "He gloated about how he could've killed us both, but it'd be more fun to let us live. He wants to come and fight us, fight me. Everything that's happened… it's because that freak is obsessed with me."
The memory of their night on Christmas came to mind, at the very same time as the heavy annoyance upon realizing that of course, he was blaming himself. Tender. I can be tender, Asuka thought, pressing her fingers into his scalp while her hand gently held onto his. I can be nice… if it's him, I can be. "Shh," she whispered in his ear. "It's not your fault, and nobody's blaming you, much less our friends. Hey, no, hey" Asuka forced his head in her direction. "Listen. SEELE wants Unit 02, Baka. Every fucking government in this god-forsaken hole we call society wants Unit 02. They'll do anything to get it; for Gott's sake, they killed half the human population in an experiment to try and exterminate life as we know it fifteen years later!"
Shinji's dark aura seemed to abate at her reasoning, while her slow ministrations to his scalp were forcing the stiff muscles around his back to unwind. He gave a heavy sigh. "I know you're right, but still." A fist clenched on Asuka's side. "I can't help but think I'm still a pathetic, useless idiot."
She had referred to him as such many times, with her rejection of his very existence being the first memory that jumped to Asuka's mind. She had stood over him, stared him down with no empathy or compassion whatsoever, and called him pathetic, someone too pathetic for her to help. He had snapped then, rejected by the person he could relate to best, and strangled her. For months the event had been so close to her mind, as though it'd happened seconds before; now, sitting there in the gymnasium, hugging the boy she had left to die, that scene in the kitchen felt like it had happened eons ago.
"You are an idiot," Asuka agreed, and gently took a hold of Shinji's closed fist. "But you're not useless. You helped me stop 2.0 when she was going crazy, you helped me survive for months, and you… help me sleep."
"Still pathetic, though." He lifted his bandaged left wrist to her. "Can't even hit the damn bag right."
"Yeah, you're still pathetic." Taking him by surprise with her statement and making him blink in shock, Asuka smirked and made her move. The simplest human touch had been enough reason for her to go on a rampage before, the faintest graze of his skin against hers was certain to trigger violence before. Lately, though, she discovered her anger had always emanated after discovering he had touched her by accident. It was still hard to accept she wanted his touch, his attention, that of Idiot Shinji, yet it was not hard at all to plant a delicate kiss on his lips and feel shocks and jolts run down her body.
Shinji's fist finally relaxed, hand moving on instinct to entangle in Asuka's hair and deepen the kiss. His lips pressed a bit more firmly against her, gently prying open her mouth and making a burning sensation clash with the electricity running down her limbs. The fact that Shinji was actually guiding her in the kiss now and had taken the initiative to bring her closer were beginning to numb Asuka's sense of reason. His right hand gently cupped her cheek, his left clenched a fistful of hair behind her nape and pushed her even closer.
I told him not to touch me for so long, she mused, feeling Shinji's tongue carefully lick her lips and invite her to a French-kissing match. Boy, was I dumb and stubborn. This is… The match began, and just as instantly Asuka's train of thought derailed and crashed.
After they had both run out of breath, they collapsed together against the stool; Asuka had long since placed both her legs on the boy's lap; her head rested comfortably just above his collarbone while both her arms encircled his neck. The closeness felt akin to their jiu-jitsu practices, which in itself had destroyed the many physical barriers she had erected over the months.
Even when every muscle on the left side of his upper body complained, burned and wailed, Shinji forced his left arm to encircle the girl's waist and reciprocate in the embrace. Move, he urged the offending limb, which voiced out its complaint with a well aimed stroke of dull pain that went from his forearm all the way to his rib cage. The small agony only fueled his thoughts. Move, the Beast breathed from the Void, enraged. Hold her properly. How long have we been dreaming about this? How long do you think we have? Engrave this memory into your head like a tattoo, you worthless scum. It's about the only good thing you'll ever have. You don't deserve it, but it's there.
The arm moved at last, dampening Asuka's fresh shirt with sweat. "I'm all sweaty, I'm gonna stink you up completely."
"You think I give a damn?" Asuka snapped back, flicking his ear and earning a disgruntled 'Ow'. "Stop fussing over what happened to our friends, and start thinking of ways to cook me some good food for these next few days."
She felt him squirm a bit in their embrace. "What do you mean? Has my food been tasting bad again?" He sounded worried, but not in the least bit offended, which in turn relaxed her and made her body slump against him.
"Not at all, Baka." She kissed his cheek, knowing full well it'd work. It did; he quickly went red all over his face. "It's just… if something bad happens; I want to remember every meal you've made me for the past ten months. I don't want to forget a single one, and I want them all to taste so good that I remember it in my next freaking life." Tightening her arms around Shinji's weakened frame, she planted a second kiss, this time on his temple a few centimeters away from the scar on his skull. "Got it?"
"Yes, Asuka-chan." Shinji answered robotically. Asuka grinned wide.
"Come on, you got me all stinky, so we're showering right now." She stood up, and the boy -who for all intents and purposes was more an order-receiving zombie than anything- followed her blindly. There was a heavy dose of guilt crippling every step she took towards deepening a meaningful relationship with the boy who trailed behind her in a daze; there was fear as well, the very old fear which had led to her initial hatred, the fear of opening herself to someone and being abandoned. Shinji, however, appeared keen to follow her blindly, even if they were headed straight to hell.
"Yes, Asuka-chan."
It was ridiculous, funny, and sad in many ways; the first thing she had honestly thought when her eyes had opened and Shinji was on top of her was that she'd never be killed by a man like him. Clear memories and sensations of what he had done, even from his own perspective, had clashed against her barely conscious mind, sickening her to the very core. Then, strangely, it had occurred to her that she'd never done the simplest act of human decency for him, for that person she had lived with for months, who was strangling her with conviction, and she had reached for the boy's face. She had then spent months trying to goad him into killing her, terrified of the possibility that he might do it, and thrilled that in her last moments she would not fight, that she'd let him choke her to death. Now she held his hand, guiding him towards the showers as he blushed redder and stumbled. She'd shower with him, with the man who would never kill her.
Their lives could very well end tomorrow. They were both aware of the impending danger looming over them all, and perhaps precisely due to them both being aware of it, just like the night they had properly kissed on Christmas, both decided to ignore it. Once they reached the showers Shinji started looking apprehensive, shy, and had apparently broken out of the spell of her kiss.
"Umm, Asuka?" he asked, clearly nervous. "T-The ladies' showers are that way."
"I'm well aware," she answered, and turned to give Shinji a somber, serious glance. "We're showering together today."
The skin on Shinji's face quickly flushed at her words. "W-What? Umm… can I ask why? D-Don't get me wrong! I'd love to! Ah… I mean, I… don't mean to sound like a pervert, but… ahh…"
She patted Shinji's cheek as affectionately as she knew how. "I know you're a gentleman, which is more than I can say about myself being a lady," she clarified, and pinched the skin on his arm before he could rebuke her statement. "We both know this could be it… again. Last time we were both too stupid and blind to do little more than fall into the path our parents planned for us." She stared deep into his dark, metallic blue eyes, where understanding and a sort of quiet bravery began to shine. "If I'm going to die, first I'm gonna do what I want. It took me long enough, and it took me almost killing you to understand what I wanted."
Shinji offered a warm, albeit small smile that did not quite reach his eyes. His eyes were sad. "And what do you want?"
Being unsure, stuttering or second-guessing herself would go against her own nature, so Asuka tightened her hold on Shinji's hand, and tugged him again in the shower's direction. "I… want you to help me," she admitted, never breaking eye contact. It was becoming easier with time; she could read Shinji's subtle signs of emotion if she tried hard enough, such as the sudden doubt which darkened his brow. "Just anyone won't cut it. It has to be you." There, the doubt dissipated literally in the blink of an eye. Her hold on his hand tightened even more. "I… want you to hold me." The sadness was quickly erased from the cobalt eyes gazing deep into her soul. "Forever."
She yelped at the sudden movement of his arm; Shinji pulled her to him in a heartbeat, he physically dragged her body to his with enough ferocity to make her stumble and fall into his chest. She felt her shirt dampen the second her own chest collided with his; he was truly dripping sweat from his every pore. She felt his arms encircle her waist and lower back with enough force to make her shudder. It was at times like these, when he claimed what was his without a single second of doubt, that her mind succumbed to him and the need to feel superior or dominant went away for a few precious seconds.
"Sometimes I'll wake up and pinch myself," he whispered in her ear after a while, after she had forced her own uncooperative arms to obey and wrap around his back and neck. "I'll wake up after a bad dream and you're there, asleep, next to me. Just seeing you breathe is enough. It was always enough." I'm sorry for not helping you before. I'm sorry for letting you die. I'm sorry for being so pathetic and not trying harder. I'm sorry that you have to relieve that horrible fight over and over again. He said none of it; he knew the girl in his arms would most likely berate him if he ruined the moment by apologizing. "I pinch myself so I know it's also not a dream, that I'm actually sleeping next to a gorgeous, strong, unique woman who gives me courage. Sometimes I'll see you in the morning, and you're so beautiful there… just sleeping with your hair down next to me, and I'll have to pinch myself again. It's hard to believe."
Compliments of her beauty had always rubbed Asuka the wrong way even when she was proud of it; yet when such words came from Shinji, she could almost accept them. "I know the feeling," she replied. Her hand caressed his scalp and found the scar she had left when hitting his head against the window. "Sometimes I wonder if we ever really made it out from that stupid puddle, and then I'll hear your heartbeat." The scar was right near his temple, just a few centimeters closer and she'd have caused permanent damage to his brain, or killed him altogether. She could feel his pulse under her fingertips, a gentle thumb-thumb just around her ring finger. "You have a strong heart."
"Not nearly as strong as yours," Shinji whispered back, smiling. "Are you sure you want to… umm-"
"Yes." Asuka's hands loosened around his head, only to begin tugging at the ruined shirt he was wearing. "Come on, help me out a bit. I've been training too, you know."
Shinji's smile became sheepish, yet he forced his hands to work and do as asked. Soon he was ever so gently taking off Asuka's shirt, her expert hands were loosening his shorts, he was tugging at her pants and before either knew it or was thoroughly aware of anything but the other's eyes, both Shinji and Asuka stood naked next to each other. He was enticed by the soft swell of her curves, the creaminess of her skin, the clear blue hue of her pupils. Then she was next to him, and had planted a soft kiss on his unexpected lips.
Asuka gave him a wolfish, toothy grin. "Get the shower going, Baka. I know you don't much like really hot water, so make it luke-warm, okay?"
He nodded dumbly and marched to the shower. "Yes, Asuka-chan." That's three times I called her that today, and she didn't bite my head off.
On his way to the shower, Shinji pinched himself to make sure he was indeed, awake. He saw Asuka take off her hairclips from the corner of his eye; once freed, her golden-crimson mane was untangled while she searched for something in her pants. When she drew out the small black box his eye widened in recognition. Is that… my(her) music player? He realized she was browsing through whatever adulterated music there was, and settled for a guitar tune with heavy drums and a deep, gentle voice behind that together sounded almost… liquid, in a very pleasant way. When she turned to catch him staring, a confident smirk drew itself on her features as the sun shone through the window and gave her an unearthly glow just as the lyrics took a crescendo. He had never truly noticed the player had a speaker incorporated.
Enter Electric Ladyland, by Jimi Hendrix. All Along the Watchtower.
"Staring, or rather, gawking in a perverted way, Baka?" Asuka said over the music, forcing him to shake his head to remember he was in fact, naked and under a lukewarm shower, with his mouth slightly agape. "Like what you see, huh?"
"Uh huh," he managed, nodding. The scars were almost gone; only the slightest discolorations were noticeable anymore, along with the small mark on her right side where the bullet shard had impacted.
She walked over to him, joining him in the shower as though they'd been bathing together for a lifetime, and placed the music player beside his head. He instantly panicked, thinking it'd get wet and be damaged in any way until a sudden pinch in the center of his chest drew his stare back to her. "What are you, stupid?" She asked, laughing; she took the black box and placed it directly under the shower, right in front of his gaping eyes. "It's waterproof, dummy," she explained, rinsing the object. "You thought I'd get you some second-hand, easily damaged crap? That thing survived Third Impact, and it's sure as hell gonna survive this, and many more showers."
"Oh," Shinji answered, drunk from the very sight of how the wet hair clung to her face and body. "Okay, yeah. I'm stupid." A pinch to his abdomen this time, a hard one. "Ow."
"Ba-Ka. Turn around, please."
Shinji blinked heavily at her. "Huh?"
She rolled her eyes, grinning at him in the way that weakened his legs and made his body feel more like jelly than actual flesh. "I'm gonna wash your back. I need to sort out that mess you've made of your trapezius, deltoids, your teres minor and major, and your latissimus dorsi."
Something in his brain was fried, either by the incredible sound of the guitar solo being played next to his ear, or the words coming from Asuka's mouth. "Huh?"
Asuka actually managed to look annoyed at Shinji's lack of reaction whatsoever to her explanation. "Your muscles, dolt," she explained, drawing a circle with her forefinger. "After beating the shit out of that innocent tire, you need to loosen up or you won't be lifting that arm for days." She watched him nod in a mechanical fashion once more, which in turn unleashed war in her stomach. Stupid fucking bugs, will you settle?! she demanded while slowly drawing circles around Shinji's back. A strange memory came to her; something 2.0 had shown her when it had first attempted to devour her soul.
It was a memory that began right after a very heavy fever she'd had, where she had vomited and bled out her nose, where her temperature had been so high Shinji had gotten ice from gods knew where and put her semi-naked body in a tub filled with it. She remembered little of those times, only that he had cared for her, fed and changed her for about two days, and then had come back with one usable arm one afternoon. He had not moved his left arm for days on end; the slightest motion seemed to have triggered deep pain, and as she worked on his trapezius and he uttered an 'Ow' or flinched, she recalled the feel of his left arm then. She had tripped, drunkenly rejecting his help, and would have met the ground with her teeth had it not been for the way that useless arm had shot up and curled around her waist like a python.
His muscles had been just as stiff as then, his face a mask of anguish and strain while the stiff, uncooperative limb held her up and brought her back to safety. Nobody had ever messed with her at the shacks, and she had not gotten sick again in months. It was easy to add the variables together and understand he had sent a message to whoever had planned to hurt her; her fever had never been related to her fight with the EVA Series at all, the nightmares had just been especially realistic then.
Time passed, and soon enough Shinji's turn to wash her had come and gone. Only the lulling melodies of the music and the water impacting their skin remained; the lights were out in the shower area, and the sun was just about ready to set, with yellowish, golden hues filtering through the glass. His body was pressed against her back with his arms holding her around the stomach and his chin resting beside her shoulder, hands pressed flush on her skin. Her own arms were around his, holding them in place, where they belonged.
Breathing in synch, with their eyes closed, both EVA pilots enjoyed a moment of absolute, perfect, private intimacy with one another. If they were to die, after all, what was there to lose anymore? Why not make the best of whatever time they had left together? Who cares if forever is just this afternoon, Asuka thought, letting her head hit Shinji's nape. He planted a soft kiss on her collarbone, and her hand instinctively buried itself in his hair. It's more than I ever thought I'd have or deserved. Her eyes opened and looked at the ceiling, but all she saw was the dim light reflecting through the window. She felt somehow complete as though, bound together as they were, Shinji and her made a functional, healthy human for a few golden seconds. It's more than enough.
The sun set but they never noticed; both were soothed by the voice and melody coming from the small, black music player.
"All along the Watchtower! Princes kept their view, while all the women came and went, barefoot servants too! Outside in the cold distance, a wild cat did growl! Two riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl! Heey!"
To Be Continued…
Inspirational Music: Electric Ladyland (album) – Jimi Hendrix; Hardwired… to Self Destruct (album), For Whom the Bell Tolls, Orion – Metallica; Ghost Reveries (album) – Opeth, Don't Stop Me Now, We Will Rock You, Bohemian Rhapsody, The Show Must Go On – Queen; Smooth Criminal, Beat It, Dangerous – Michael Jackson; Raining Blood, Angel of Death, Dead Skin Mask – Slayer; Kukushka, Cigarette – Kino (Russian Band, Awesome); Shattered, Clash with Reality, Domination – Pantera; Look on, Scratches – John Frusciante.
AN: There we go! That's more like it, right?! I hope. Shit. Fuck it, I've never second guessed myself.
A huge thank you and my gratitude to my brother MisterHalt for taking the time to proof and improve this chapter! Thank you so much!
Regarding fighting styles, and so we have a clear idea of how our dear characters rumble, I've made the following list; you can check out the martial artists I quote on Youtube. Granted, we're talking about teens, so we have to downplay their abilities of course. There are just references to better picture… ahem… whatever.
Asuka's Style: Holly Holm, Carlos Condit "The Natural Born Killer." Asuka strikes me as the kind of fighter who improvises, uses unpredictable combinations and mixes a bit of everything into fighting, much like Condit who is for all intents and purposes, unpredictable and dangerous. Holm's kicks speak for themselves. I'd say Asuka's abilities in jiu-jitsu are on par to those of Nate or Nick Diaz as far as chokes and overall grappling are concerned. For her Tae-Kwon-Do kicks go for Joe Rogan's demonstrations. Why so advanced? This girl was trained for ten years. Do check out Rory McDonald's debut at sixteen and witness how fucking dangerous ten years of training are.
Shinji's Style: Normal Shinji: a half-decent counter-puncher with some power behind his counters. Beast Mode: Diego "The Nightmare" Sanchez, Nate Diaz (overall style). "Ruthless" Robbie Lawler (punching). Lawler is right-handed, but fights southpaw just 'cause. Small and compact, this guy will knock you out with one shot, and he won't stop punching until either you drop him, or he drops you. Look at the advised video below and tell me when Robbie grounds and pounds if that shit doesn't look like Shinji beating on Zeruel. Sanchez and Diaz have incredible drive and will not stop coming after you, even if they can't see where you are. You can kick, punch away for hours and they'll walk right into your attacks and knock you the fuck out. Main reason: stamina and pressure. If you've never been in a fight before allow me to assure you, there is hardly anything more terrifying than seeing someone take your best shots, bleed, and shrug it off like it was nothing, only to attack like a wild animal after. It's scary, son.
Rei's Style: A very young George St-Pierre. Suspecting the girl got her own set of personal defense training, and judging by the way the girl moved in fighting sequences and through the series, I'd suspect Rei to be a student of karate, judo and Krav Maga, spiced with Muay Thai. As such, the style that best suits her in a fight would be a patient counter-puncher, a cerebral fighter with great timing who waits for an opening and uses techniques practiced thousands of times to perfection. She strikes me as the quiet deadly type, good at pretty much everything, like St Pierre, minus the power of course. ('Roid-chomping asshole that he is).
Dmitri's Style: Cub Swanson aka "Beautiful Destruction" (punching and kicking style), Khabib Nurmagomedov "The Eagle" (condition, grappling and ground and pound). Even past his prime, Swanson is a force to be reckoned with, very original and extremely dangerous with both punches and kicks, and incredible stamina. Being trained in Russia, our Mary Sue has deep knowledge of both Sambo and judo. Dmitri doesn't much care about defense though, overly confident in his abilities, and attacks with viciousness and originality, like Swanson. For Dmitri's knife-fighting abilities, go for Systema Spetznaz on Youtube. If you ever wondered how Dmitri's physique and live fighting skills look like, he'd look like Swanson, only with scars and not tattoos, and much more power behind his punch (genetically enhanced!).
PS: Most of these martial artists have already earned the title of "Red Queen" or "Red King", a title given in the cage/ring when you continue to fight after being badly cut. Also, Condit vs St. Pierre is one of my all time favorite fights, just so happens to work well with the story!
Videos to browse:
Knife fighting in the park – Marti Wheeler Systema
Holy Holm "Calm Chaos", Carlos "Natural Born Killer" Condit (highlights); Robbie "Ruthless" Lawler Highlights, Nate Diaz Gangsta's Paradise; Diego "The Nightmare" Sanchez Building Up Murder; George St Pierre Remember the Name; Khabib "The Eagle" Believer; Cub Swanson "Beautiful Destruction"
Get… fucking… HYPED!
Remember to review on your way out! Chappie good? Chappie bad? Let me know!
PEACE.
In the next ST chapter….
The rubble of the fallen carrier airplane and the flames made it hard for everyone in the command center to see. Explosions deafened the surrounding area as the army's artillery launched missiles and bullets toward the ever-growing mass of blackened concrete and twisted metal. The airplanes were quick to intercept the enemy's air force and soon enough the skies were filled with the sound of gunfire and the orange hue of blasts and fallen jets.
The very ground shook. Bestial growls were registered at the same time as a shadow rose from the debris and chaos, the ground shook again when the shadow became more visible. Dark armor, shoulder plates, a scythe slung on its shoulder. Red eyes. A gigantic black hand shot up and not a second afterwards a reddish hexagonal shield came to life between it and the bombs.
"A… AT-Field detected, Commander," Shigeru uttered with a shaky voice. "P-Pattern orange… designation… uh…"
"Samael," Ikari Gendou boomed. "He's come."