Like an angel that has forsaken empathy,
young boy, become a legend!
Even though the clear blue winds
beat on the doors to your heart,
you just look straight at me, smiling
So eager for something to touch,
your innocent eyes know nothing of fate
but someday you'll notice
that there are wings on your back
that will carry you into the future
The cruel angel's thesis
will take flight from the window
with surging, burning pathos
if you betray your memories
Embracing the sky and shining,
young boy, become a legend!
The jovial sounds of children laughing wafted through the air and intermingled with the ceaseless chirruping of cicadas. Parents in close pursuit urged caution as kids chased each other to-and-fro, bobbing and weaving through the tunnels created by the immobile Angel's enormous stationary limbs. A gaggle of high school girls were taking turns photographing each other in front of the behemoth, striking varied theatrical poses: cowering scared, tall in heroic defiance, shooting at it with finger guns, and of course, the perennial favourite peace sign. One girl hiked up her skirt to show off her pink panties, and the group descended into fits of giggles as they continued snapping photos.
Camped out across from them was a news crew, presumably parked there in anticipation of capturing exclusive footage of the monster awakening. They stood huddled around their van, boom operator lighting the grip's cigarette as the anchorwoman teased her hair in the monitor and made idle chitchat with the cameraman.
Fuyutsuki shook his head dolefully at the tableau of civilians carelessly congregating around the Angel. Even if it was presently inactive, it was still a threat to everyone's safety. Not even NERV knew for sure what it was doing yet—only that it had apparently entered into some kind of suspended animation.
Now teenagers were leaning nonchalantly against its huge avian toes. Assuming it didn't simply crush them by suddenly standing up, it could easily disintegrate all of these bystanders without so much as a muscle twitch... all it would take was a flash of its AT field.
He chased those thoughts from his mind and pondered what the results of Ritsuko's biopsy might uncover about their mysterious enemy.
The growl of an engine grabbed Fuyutsuki's attention and he glanced over his shoulder to witness a black SUV skid to a stop in a nearby car park. Two men in identical black suits and sunglasses poured out of the front of the car. One proceeded to stand rigidly with his arms crossed in front of him and his back against the vehicle, his head darting back-and-forth vigilantly; the other looped around to open the back door. It clicked and swung wide to reveal Gendo. The suited men promptly took to either side of him and escorted him the short distance to where Fuyutsuki was waiting.
"Is that necessary?" Fuyutsuki asked him, eyeballing his security team.
"You can never be too careful." Gendo smirked, appraising the scene of kids treating the body of an unknowably dangerous entity like a playground.
Fuyutsuki frowned. "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." he quoted. "Speaking of, SEELE has expressed some concern that the new Dummy Plugs won't be ready in time for Unit-03's activation test... you know it was designed by the new engineer to feature a unique triple-plug system."
"They're always complaining about something." Gendo scoffed.
Using his middle finger, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and said, "No need to worry; the Dummy Plugs will be complete long before then. Keep monitoring the Angel in the meantime."
Without saying anything else, he spun around and waved for his two escorts to accompany him back to the SUV.
As he climbed into the back seat, a concert of motors overtook the noises of the crowd. Exhaust clouded the air, and a long convoy of black vans bearing the NERV logo surged into the car park. Armed men in fatigues spilled from the backs of the vehicles while others in safety vests and hard hats jumped out of the front seats. The men collectively set to work cordoning off the area around the Angel, pulling caution tape and dispelling civilians. An uproar of disappointed groans swelled, then waned as the mob disbanded.
Knowing that NERV was at least enacting basic safety protocols, Fuyutsuki felt a wave of relief wash over him. With narrowed eyes, he watched Gendo's vehicle pull off and reminisced on the day the two of them first met. When Yui requested he bail Gendo out of jail consequent to a bar fight.
What did she ever see in that man?
An acrid smell, like something burning, reached Shinji's nostrils as he lied in bed listening to a cassette. Involuntarily crinkling his nose, he sniffed the air, trying to weed out the source of the odor. He heard a piercing electronic screech just audible above the music from his earbuds, and realised the smoke detector was going off. Something was, in fact, on fire.
Springing up so hastily he yanked the earbuds clean out of the tape player, he leapt from the bed, and the SDAT dropped to the floor, still playing. He flew across his bedroom, bursting through the door, and dashed down the hallway. When he drifted around the corner into the kitchen, he found Misato wreathed in dark smoke, madly swatting at the badly-charred contents of a pan. Before he could fully register what he was seeing, Asuka scampered into view holding a bucket, and tossed water onto the smouldering pan. The water sloshed wildly, some splashing back onto Asuka. There was a sharp hiss as a ring of steam blossomed outward from the stove. Smoke rushed to the ceiling and dispersed like a mushroom cloud. Rei and Pen Pen gawped silently from their seats in the living room.
"What's going on?" Shinji asked, panting. He pulled the still-dangling earbuds from his ears and coiled the wire around his index finger.
Fanning the smoking pan with a towel, Misato laughed, "I thought I would actually try cooking for everyone. I bought non-frozen ingredients and everything."
She held up the towel in front of her like a curtain, and peeped over it at the burnt-black remains of whatever it was, pouting. "Guess I messed something up."
"Ya think?" Asuka quipped, picking up the bucket she ran in carrying before turning toward the bathroom. "Well, I'm going to take a shower."
Misato cautiously picked up the pan and held it at arm's length, as if she was afraid it might somehow automatically ignite again. She marched across the kitchen and dropped it in the sink.
"Well then... Shinji, Rei—do you think you two could go pick up some takeout?" she suggested.
"Yes ma'am." both children affirmed.
Shinji started down the hallway, ducking into his bedroom to fling his earbuds onto his bed as he passed. He slipped his feet into his shoes and waited by the front door for Rei to catch up with him. Once she did, he reached out, opened the door, and froze.
His muscles tensed. His hands unconsciously curled into fists, and a cold sweat glazed his forehead. There, in the doorway of his home, Shinji was face-to-face with...
"Father?" he gasped.
———————
第 20' 話
Simulation Theory
———————
"Shinji." Gendo said, seeming to look through his son rather than at him.
There had been a time when Shinji wanted nothing more than to hear his father call him by his name, but it hurt hearing it spoken with such indifference. He shrank inwardly, slouching. His father's contemptuous tone was like a needle puncturing his self-esteem, and Shinji's spirit deflated as all the air instantly rushed out of his ego. All the fears and doubts, the little nagging voices telling him that he was intrinsically insignificant, had effectively been validated. One word from his father—even his own name—was all it took to make him feel like nothing.
"W-what are you doing here?" he stammered.
"I'm here to check on Rei." Gendo replied bluntly.
"Oh yeah... Ayanami." Shinji murmured, stepping aside. "She's right here."
Gendo didn't move, but peered down the hallway, past Shinji, at the demure girl. "I see that." he stated. She looked distracted, barely acknowledging Gendo standing in the threshold until he barked, "Rei!"
Rei flinched at the sudden shout, then looked over at him, stone-faced, and responded: "Yes, Commander Ikari?"
"Are you ready to go?" he questioned.
Before Rei could utter a reply, Misato appeared behind her at the end of the hall.
"Commander!" Misato crowed. She laid her hands on Rei's shoulders, causing her to flinch again, and ushered the blue-haired girl off to the side to creep past.
To Shinji's amazement (and slight amusement), his father's eyes bulged and his stoic façade temporarily slipped as Misato bounded towards him. Attempting to get in front of Shinji, she shoved past in such a way that he ended up trapped between her and the wall. Her ass was pressing into him through her tight cutoffs, but Shinji ignored it the best he could and tried to think of something else.
"What are you doing here?" she inquired once she was the closest to Gendo.
"I'm here to check on Rei." he restated.
It felt like Shinji had already heard this conversation.
"Well, she's right inside," Misato said, gesturing to the other end of the hall, "Come on in."
Gendo waved his hands over one another and shook his head in wordless protest, starting, "No–"
"Oh please, Commander, I insist!" goaded Misato as she took him by the wrist and guided him through the doorframe.
———
Misato, Rei, Shinji, and Gendo all sat in a circle at the kitchen table, exchanging awkward, reluctant glances. Misato let out a nervous chuckle. She brought Gendo inside on a whim, thinking she had a brilliant two-pronged plan to simultaneously strengthen his and Shinji's relationship as well as probe him for answers about some of NERV's most perplexing mysteries; but she honestly hadn't thought this far ahead.
"Would you like a beer, Commander?" she offered, hopping out of her chair to fetch two cold ones from the refrigerator. It was a relief to leave the table, however shortly.
"No, thank you." Gendo said.
Misato had already returned to the table with both cans. She sat them down and cracked one open, shrugging, "Oh well."
The tab clicked in a spray of froth, and Misato slurped the fizzing liquid from the top of the can. A thin mustache of residual foam clung to her upper lip.
"Hope you don't mind if I have one." she beamed, wiping the suds from beneath her nose.
Inside the bathroom, the shower squeaked off and the door slid open as the hiss of the water faded. Asuka emerged in a puff of steam, and then, spotting Gendo, made a beeline straight into her room. The door banging shut behind her.
Misato watched Shinji's eyes trail Asuka from one point to the next, then focus on his father, who assumed his trademark Gendo pose and glared at Rei. Rei looked at Misato, and Misato looked back at Shinji.
She swilled from her can and intoned, "This is fun."
No one seemed inclined to agree. For another few minutes, the four stayed seated in maddening near-perfect stillness, interspersed only with the occasional movement of Misato taking a swig of beer. She tilted back the can and chugged the last dregs of it. Cracking open the second one, she pondered a good topic of discussion.
"What do you think about that Angel?" she quizzed, after an extended drink from the second can.
Gendo unclasped his hands. Shinji and Rei turned their heads toward him, ostensibly eager for his response.
"At present, Fuyutsuki is overseeing the teams we have assigned to monitor and guard it while the investigation is underway." Gendo reported.
That didn't really answer her question, but Misato supposed it suited the humourless enigmatic persona the Commander curated for himself. He was all business, all the time.
He really never turns it off, does he? she thought.
She was ready to accept his typically aloof reply when Shinji surprisingly spoke up, insisting: "But what do you think about it?"
Misato was floored by Shinji's random spurt of courage—he was normally so timid around his father, he usually took a passive role in their interactions. Across the table from her, even Rei looked astounded by his boldness. Gendo, for his part, appeared mildly amused, his mouth aslant in a mordant smirk.
"It's an Angel," Gendo maintained, "We'll determine how to defeat it, and then you and the other pilots will eliminate it."
He stood up and addressed Rei: "It's time to go."
"Yes sir." Rei nodded, and stood up as well.
She trailed behind Gendo as he made his way to the front door, but paused in the hallway just as he left the apartment, glancing back over her shoulder. He called her name from the other side of the door, and she hastened to follow him.
Once they were gone, a dismayed expression fell across Shinji's face.
"Miss Misato," he hesitated, "What kind of relationship do my father and Ayanami have?"
Not knowing how to answer due to being fairly unclear on the logistics herself, Misato raised her beer and took a hefty gulp from the upturned can. Rei was obviously important to Gendo somehow, but she wasn't sure how or why specifically. It was one more question mark on an increasingly long and ever-expanding list of secrets her employer was keeping from her, and she intended to learn them all.
The shrill cry of Sagiri's alarm wrenched him from the tender embrace of sleep. He rolled over, irascibly grumbled a string of meaningless syllables, and slung his arm out from beneath the covers. Aspiring to silence the alarm, he blindly patted the surface of his nightstand in hopes he might slap the 'snooze' button. Instead, he swept the clock off of the stand entirely. It clattered noisily to the hardwood floor, trailed by its high-pitched beeping.
Now irreversibly roused from his sleep, Sagiri growled and ripped the covers off of his body. He twisted his hips and draped his legs off the edge of the bed, using his toes to switch off the alarm.
Hinoki peeked her head out from the blanket on her side while he sat the clock back atop the nightstand. He whispered an apology and told her to go back to sleep, then made his way to the door.
Upon stepping into the hallway, he was instantly greeted by the sweet, inviting aroma of coffee. The scent of coffee lured him to the kitchen, where he fully pried open his heavy eyelids to see Yori offering him a freshly-poured cup.
What a godsend, Sagiri thought—maybe it wouldn't be so bad having Hinoki's cousin staying with them.
Sagiri accepted the mug from Yori with a small bow of gratitude and took a deep sip of the warm beverage.
When he lowered the mug, Yori was sitting at the round table nearby with his own coffee and a notebook. Yori was completely engrossed in the notebook, his pencil speedily crisscrossing its pages as he scrawled line after line.
Sagiri pulled up a chair and joined him at the table. Neither of them spoke. Several seconds passed before Sagiri started to feel uncomfortable.
Not meaning to look a gift horse in the mouth—as grateful as he was for the coffee—Sagiri took another swig from his mug, cleared his throat, and asked, "Why are you awake so early?"
Yori raised his head. His eyes flitted past Sagiri's face as if he wasn't sure he was the one being addressed.
"I couldn't sleep." he said after a moment.
"At all?" Sagiri inquired.
Yori shook his head.
"No... I just woke up a while back and couldn't go back to sleep." he explained. He fidgeted with his pencil, twirling it between his fingers, and looked down at the notebook.
Searching for a way to keep the conversation alive, Sagiri took a sizable swig of coffee and glanced up at the ceiling.
"Hinoki said you seemed down yesterday," he started, recalling the discussion with his wife, "Did you have a bad day at school?" He paused to sip his coffee, and just in case he sounded pushy, amended: "It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."
Without making eye contact, Yori said, "I'm not good at it."
"Not good at what?"
"Talking."
"That's okay," Sagiri contended.
"I don't know how to talk to people." Yori reiterated.
He couldn't quite tell from the way Yori's voice was lilting, but Sagiri thought he almost heard a slight emphasis on the word 'people'. This might be harder than he thought. He swallowed the last few drops of coffee and studied the bottom of his mug, unsure how to interpret Yori's remarks.
Undeterred, and determined to establish a rapport, Sagiri set his mug down and assured Yori, "I'm really good at listening, so you don't need to be good at talking."
This notedly piqued Yori's interest somehow, making him hoist his head a bit when Sagiri said it. Dropping his pencil into the paper valley where the halves of his notebook intersected, Yori supposed, "Maybe I could learn if I had someone to listen."
"Has there never been anyone who listened to you?" Sagiri asked sympathetically.
"Not really," Yori admitted, "Aside from a caseworker I used to see every other week, I've been alone for as long as I can remember."
"Your family?" Sagiri wondered, as he began to understand exactly how little he knew about his wife's relatives.
"They died." Yori answered frankly.
"What about friends?"
He shook his head. "No."
The uncommonly dense, leaden weight of Yori's sadness was almost palpable... Sagiri couldn't help but feel a twinge of heartache.
"Do you want to make friends?" he inquired.
Admittedly, he was an extrovert, but he knew not even the most reclusive person could survive in total isolation—humans are social animals; deprived of any interaction with others, they eventually cease to function.
Sliding the pencil out of the crease in his notebook, Yori resumed spinning it in his fingers. "I tried," he said, sighing, "I don't know how."
"That's okay," Sagiri asserted, "I'll help you. Is there anyone at school you think you might like?"
"There was this one girl," Yori began, his eyes cast down again, his head sagging, "But I messed up when I tried to talk to her."
"That's discouraging, yeah, but don't give up immediately after the first try." advised Sagiri. "I think I looked stupid the first time I talked to Hinoki. The important part is you tried: that's the first step to doing something." he concluded, hoping he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.
Raising his head once more, Yori brought his coffee mug to his mouth using his free hand.
"How do I talk to her?" he said after taking a drink. He appeared a little less morose.
The pressure was on Sagiri now. His eyes scanned the room seeking inspiration (or perhaps a new subject), and landed on Yori's notebook. Of course.
Pointing to the small book lying open on the table, he probed, "What are you always writing in that?"
As if ashamed, Yori clapped the book shut. The pages smacked together with a slapping sound. "It's, uh..." he hesitated, "Poetry."
"That's great!" Sagiri declared.
Yori blinked. "It is?"
"Yes!" Sagiri insisted, proceeding, "You're a poet, so you know how to express yourself through language. Use that to engage with her emotionally—remember, she's just a person, like you. Just think how you write your poems when you talk to her, and words will come. Also if she likes poetry, then you'll have a mutual interest. Find common ground with her. That's how people build connections: through what they share with each other."
"What they share," Yori echoed contemplatively. He chugged the rest of his coffee and stood up from the table, taking his notebook as he retreated to his room.
Sagiri stood up as well. Scooting his chair back under the table, he grabbed his empty mug to go pour himself a refill. He smiled to himself, confident that he'd proffered some solid advice. It was hardly 6AM, but so far he'd done good today.
The automatic walkway stretched on toward a dark artificial horizon on the far end of the industrial hellscape constituting this sector of Central Dogma. It whirred and rumbled through an interminable hallway lined on all sides with ugly maze-like networks of rusty piping. Each pipe audibly gurgled and spat as Ritsuko rode past on the motorised belt.
Next to her, Gendo faced forward, gazing into the distant blackness, but the void did not peer back. Her eyes were the only ones on him for the time being. Behind them, Rei was watching clusters of knotted cables and tubing cycle by as the walkway rolled ever deeper into the bowels of NERV HQ.
Throughout their journey to the Dummy Plug Plant, Ritsuko apprised Gendo of much of the work she'd been doing with Sagiri since the young man's arrival. Successively, without displaying a shred of enthusiasm for her news (beyond a concise "Good"), he had informed her of a bizarre proposal from a member of SEELE, the implications of which made her rather uncomfortable, even with how much her personal code of ethics had corroded during her tenure at NERV. The idea of it involving Rei scarcely helped.
"Are there any new updates regarding the tissue sample analysis?" Gendo interrogated, ignoring her grievance.
"Thus far we haven't been able to infer too much we didn't already know from examining the corpses of previous Angels," Ritsuko told him, "But I gave Sagiri a team of lab techs and they're working on it around the clock. They're running tests as we speak. Maya's with them, helping them evaluate the data."
"See that it gets done." he commanded.
"Yes sir," she said. Angling her head toward Gendo, she caught a glimpse of Rei in her peripheral vision, and felt those bothersome pangs of guilt she was certain she'd buried under years of ends-justify-the-means indoctrination.
"Commander, I'm afraid I must again express my objections to your earlier proposal. I can't willingly participate in something I can't condone." she stated apologetically.
"And I can't tolerate dissent or insubordination at this stage in the project." Gendo rejoined, spinning to face her. "If you can't follow my orders and do your job, I'll find someone who can."
His words hit Ritsuko like a slap in the face. She wracked her brain for a rebuttal, but every time she attempted to vocalise her argument, it left her mouth as a stunted, wordless vowel, and she grew progressively more flustered.
"Bullshit." she ultimately spat, "You need me."
"Is that what you think?" Gendo let out a terse, derisive chuckle, or maybe he just scoffed. "You're not irreplaceable. You're not even unique."
Never had Ritsuko been so thankful that there was a place to acquire and imbibe alcohol inside the Geofront. Devoid of any other patrons, the lounge mimicked her emotional state: empty inside, and tinted the deep gelid blue of a gloomy moonless twilight.
Restlessly, she paced the length of the bar, grasping a cigarette in one shaking hand and a rocks glass full of whisky in the other. She lifted the cigarette to her ruby lips and took a long drag. Soon a bitter taste and burning sensation told her that she had already smoked the entire thing. She stopped pacing and mashed the butt into the ashtray, adding to a lofty pile which spilled over the glass edges onto the bar's surface. Once the ember had been extinguished, she climbed onto a barstool and raised her glass of whisky.
Tossing her head back, she drained the glass and slammed it face-down on top of the bar to summon for a refill.
Some number of drinks later, Ritsuko squeezed her eyes shut and the room spun. Regrettably, the whisky had been unsuccessful at drowning her sorrows—they repeatedly floated to the surface. Rather than alleviating her misery, the liquor only exacerbated her feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness. Moreover, it couldn't erase the stains on her dignity.
She was furious with Gendo, sure, but mostly she was angry at herself for allowing him to affect her like this. It was immensely distressing to discover how vulnerable she was to him. The thought that he wielded such power over her was terrifying, and she solemnly vowed to take back control of her emotions starting now.
Well, perhaps not 'now', per se—her resolve to rectify the situation did very little to mitigate how unhappy it currently made her—but definitely come morning... Tonight was reserved for a dizzying spiral of self-pity. She felt unappreciated and undervalued, disrespected and discarded, and how dare that man do this to her!? How could he still take her for granted, after she gave him everything she had—mind, body, and soul?
'Gave' was the operative word. This was why Ritsuko couldn't truly hate him, not any more than she detested herself. She wanted to blame him, to say he took those things from her—that he forced her, callously manipulated and exploited her, but that wasn't quite accurate... No, she allowed him to do it. She let him take every advantage of her. She jumped at his beck and call. And why? Any illusions she fostered that he may one day love her had long since dissipated, but he was a blindspot in her judgment. An abscess in her logical mind. Her weakness. He had her wrapped around his finger. Gendo Ikari was a curse.
What's more was that he was right: she wasn't unique. She was a cheap imitation of the woman who spawned her, in every capacity—right down to the men she slept with. One of her frequent pastimes had been gazing into a mirror and considering everything she hated about her face: the sunken eyes, flat nostrils, the faint asymmetry of it... She stopped forever one day after realising, in a fit of bleary-eyed terror, the predominant thing she disliked about her face—what she despised the most—was the fact that she looked just like her mother.
Dyeing her hair did precious little to help offset the resemblance.
As she downed another glass of whisky, the quiet seclusion of the lounge became oppressive. The weight of silence bared down on her, and the sparseness of her dim blue surroundings was a taunting, persecutory reminder of precisely how alone she was.
Ritsuko carelessly placed her empty glass on the bar, and watched as it wobbled to a halt. As it clinked against the laminate, she remembered: there was somebody who always considered her, who regarded her highly, and had never let her down once. Someone who made her feel appreciated. Admired. Wanted.
She stood up abruptly, stumbling backwards a bit when her shoes hit the floor, and grabbed her lab-coat off of the adjacent stool. After digging through both pockets she found her mobile phone and retrieved it.
Squinting at the minuscule screen, she flicked through her contacts in search of the one person she knew she could trust. Once she had pinpointed the number, she found a spot in the room with decent reception, took a hardy gulp of air, and pushed the 'call' button.
Passing through the door into her bedroom, Maya flipped off the buzzing tube of fluorescent light which hung over her bathroom mirror. She got a short jogging start and jumped into her bed. There was a mountain of stuffed animals roughly arranged into the shape of a chair in the corner where the edge of her bed met the wall behind it. Nestled snugly amidst the pile, Maya unfolded her laptop and opened a browser window.
It was around midnight, and she had just come from brushing her teeth. Now she wanted to check her email and maybe trawl her favourite image board for a few minutes before going to bed. If she saw anyone arguing about one of her preferred pairings, she would just look away and click on another thread—she promised herself that she would go to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight; she couldn't afford to get in another flame war.
Tonight the site was teeming with pictures of girls wearing cat ears. Maya wiggled her butt, trying to work a comfortable groove into her fuzzy makeshift throne as she inattentively scrolled down the page. Some of the girls were cute, but for whatever reason the appeal of cat ears was mostly lost on her—maybe it was how they reminded her of the Eva pilots' interface headsets, or maybe she was just incapable of thinking about cats in a sexual way.
Just as she was preparing to close her laptop and turn off the light, her phone rang. Ironically for all her fascination with new technology, she had an archaic rotary phone in her bedroom, and the analog bell was incredibly loud. Surprised, she jumped, smacking her laptop shut between her knees and elbows.
After recovering from her miniature heart attack, by the third ring Maya was able process the fact that someone was calling her. Recalling the time of night, she wondered who it could possibly be at this hour. Under the assumption that the timing probably denoted a sudden emergency, on the fifth ring she deduced it must be NERV, calling to inform that her the Angel was active,
On the final ring, she sprang from her bed and snatched the phone off its hook.
"First Lieutenant Maya Ibuki." she recited in a starched tone, like she was trying to inflect a salute in her voice.
The line was momentarily silent, then:
"Maya, come here... I need you."
Maya was beyond stunned to hear Ritsuko meekly entreating her on the other end.
Her body locked up, her grip weakened, and the phone's handset nearly slipped out of her fingers. Briefly forgetting how to speak, for a moment she merely clutched the receiver to her face in disbelief, voicelessly working her jaw. Surely she'd misheard what Ritsuko said... or at the very least, the statement hadn't been intended the way it sounded.
"Maya, are you there?" Ritsuko quavered. Her voice was small, restrained, and shaky. She sounded upset, like she'd been crying possibly. "Where are you?" she asked when Maya's speechlessness persisted.
"Dr. Akagi?" Maya muttered, choking out the words with some effort, "I'm at home, about to go to bed. What's going on?"
Ritsuko coughed a short, dry cough and repeated: "Come here, please... I need you."
"Where are you?" Maya asked.
Her heart was beating in double-time. What was happening seemed so surreal, she half-expected to open her eyes and learn that she had dozed off while looking at her laptop.
"The main aerial train platform in the Geofront." Ritsuko said. "Please come."
Maya picked a relatively clean pair of jeans off her floor. She hurriedly pulled them on, hopping in place as she slid the waistband up her thighs and over her hips.
"I'm on my way." she promised.
Ritsuko sniffled, "Okay."
There was a click, followed by the dial tone. Maya held out the handset and stared at it incredulously before hanging it back on the hook. It looked like she wouldn't be going to bed just yet, after all.
———
About fifteen minutes later, Maya's cab rolled to a stop outside the aerial train's surface-level entrance, where Ritsuko was waiting on a bench. The night was cool and damp. A thin fog hung low in the air along the empty street, giving Ritsuko an almost ghostly appearance as she sat. Bathed in the yellow beam of a nearby street lamp, her fair skin seemed to have an unearthly golden glow. She sat with her legs crossed, one knee bouncing anxiously under her bent elbows as she cupped her hands next to her face, straining to light a cigarette. The flame of the lighter was a small orange beacon in the scotch mist, surrounded by a flickering white halo.
Maya opened the car door and called out to her, "Dr. Akagi!"
Ritsuko's head snapped toward the cab and her face lit up. She launched herself off the bench and quickly ambled over to where the car was parked.
"Maya, you came to save me!" she exclaimed, bending down to climb in the backseat. "Thank you so much!"
"Of course, Dr. Akagi. No problem, ma'am." Maya intoned. Uncertainty was tying her guts into knots. She flattened herself in her seat as the other woman climbed over her to reach the opposite side of the vehicle.
Ritsuko flopped down in her seat and struggled with her seatbelt, ineffectively stabbing the ends together several times before they clicked into place.
"Please, Maya, call me Ritsuko." she insisted.
"Okay, Dr. Ak–" Maya stopped herself, "...Ritsuko." She exhaled. Her mentor—her idol's first name... it felt weird actually coming out of her mouth.
The taxi sputtered to life as the driver turned the ignition. Twisting around to face them, he asked, "Where to, ladies?"
"Anywhere else." Ritsuko uttered before Maya had the slightest chance to confer with her.
Accepting this answer, the driver shrugged, shifted gears, and pulled off down the desolate road.
Looking directly at Maya, Ritsuko wrapped her hands around the younger woman's shoulders. Shadows from the passing buildings streaked across her face, but her eyes were bright and full of longing. Still not sure what was going on, Maya gazed back in turn, her heart fluttering.
The car entered a tunnel and the backseat was plunged into darkness. Flashes of pale moonlight blinked through the windows, streaming in from sporadic gaps in the tunnel's ceiling.
Ritsuko moved her hands and rested her head on Maya's shoulder, her blonde hair cascading over the sleeve of Maya's blouse. Catching the scent of her hair, Maya quivered. It smelled like honeyed pears and lilac.
"I was hoping you'd come," she said, nuzzling against Maya, "You've always been there for me, and you always help me and take care of me, and..." There was a beat as she lifted her head. "I love you."
Although Maya was glad to know her devotion had not gone unheeded, that was the absolute last thing she expected to hear.
Ritsuko was obviously drunk, but regardless, she wasn't the type to express affection so readily... and besides, such strong emotions need to be seeded and cultivated; they don't just come out of nowhere. Maya had always been attracted to the doctor, and secretly harboured a deep infatuation with her, but never received any indication that Ritsuko was aware of those feelings, much less felt the same.
Ritsuko tilted back in her seat with her eyes affixed to Maya's face. They glistened in the strobing light.
Maya was on the verge of hyperventilating; she tried to concentrate on breathing, but her heart was caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could figure out what, Ritsuko unexpectedly fell forward and their lips met.
Heat flared through Maya's body, radiating outward from Ritsuko's lips as they brushed against hers. Still, she remained static, petrified.
After an initial peck on the lips, Ritsuko leaned in and kissed her again with heightened intensity. "Kiss me," she breathed into Maya's mouth, unbuckling her seatbelt, "I love you."
She flung her arms around Maya and scooted closer to her, lavishing her with kisses. Her whisky-laced lips tasted like nicotine and cinnamon, and each kiss further eroded Maya's rapidly-dwindling willpower.
"I love you," Ritsuko said again, a desperate mantra whispered frantically between kisses, "I love you, Maya. Kiss me."
The taste of Ritsuko's lipstick, the warmth of her breath, enflamed Maya's repressed passion.
The last of her meager defenses collapsed as the blonde doctor's hot silky tongue gently parted her trembling lips and pushed past into the wet space of her waiting mouth. Emotion trumped logic; desire conquered reason. Helpless against it, she broke down, and—in spite of better judgment—instinctively kissed back. She widened her mouth to invite Ritsuko's probing tongue deeper and swirled her own tongue around its slick surface, leaving a thread of saliva bridging their lips when she finally broke contact.
"I love you, Ritsuko." she confessed, a sharp, gasping statement infused with a sigh, months of tension released at once.
A thousand pins of electric light beamed from the windows of the city to the windows of the car, negating the shadows of the tunnel as the car drove through the exit at long last. A burst of illumination flooded the vehicle's interior, then immediately dimmed as Maya's eyes adjusted.
The tightness in Maya's core decompressed and she relaxed. Droplets of moisture lingered on her flushed skin. Ritsuko's lipstick was smudged, mostly rubbed off in an array of cherry-red smears along Maya's face and neck.
The two women shared one space in the backseat, their limbs entangled. Pressed together as closely as their bodies would allow, they continued kissing as the cab drove onward through the deserted streets to its unnamed destination.
EVANGELION
エヴァンゲリオン