Hello there! Welcome to what will turn out to be my longest published work as of April, 2020. As a heads up, I'm aiming for a word count of about 50k, with about 6 or so total chapters planned.
The skeleton for this story is more or less done, so expect updates every two or so going forward, depending on how life treats me. Regardless of circumstances, I'm dedicated to finishing this in an effort to not pollute the Internet with unfinished fics.
That said, I don't have an editor other than myself, so please bear with any mistakes you may find. Enjoy!
"Misa-chan, be a dear and pilot, won't you? You're so good at it, like everything you do."
Misato stamped her foot and the white room around them trembled, the news anchor on the TV flickering in protest.
"But mother, it hurts! It hurts and its gross and I don't care if I'm good at it. I don't to be good!"
"I know, dear, I know," The woman's thin lips curled into a smile. "They need you though, he needs you."
"..But mother-"
"I believe in you, and I'll always be, in your heart, in your memories."
"Mother…"
The smile stilled. Then the gentle curve widened, jaw extending to support the growing rictus and reveal a horde of needle-teeth that seemed to stretch back into the woman's stomach.
"Be a dear and pilot."
Misato recoiled, pushing away at monster, but her fingers burst into blood on contact and her arms followed suit. The beast surged forward, its maw spanning the room, the city, the sky-
"Beep! Beep! Beep!"
Misato lashed out-and her fingers were whole again, digging into something soft, not dagger-sharp.
Sucking in air, the girl climbed to her feet, and fell almost immediately as her foot slid on something slick.
After a few moments of flailing and panicking, she stabilized, and picked up the offending object with a scowl. Despite the creases she now sported, the busty babe draped over the hood of the Renault Alpine kept her perfect smile.
Misato set her aside, and navigated her way past a harem's worth of similar looking models to her alarm clock.
Beep! Beep! Be-
Alarm silenced and adrenaline subsiding, Misato made her way to the door, gradually becoming aware of the assorted noises and smells that seeped through the walls of her room. As usual it seemed like she was the last to get up, but that mattered little as long as the bathroom was free-which thankfully turned out to be the case.
A quick brush of her teeth and a splash of cold water on her face later, she almost felt ready to face the day.
Back in her room, she flicked on the lights and went about preparing for school, which mostly amounted to her sweeping her school books and some pens into her backpack.
Supplies secured, she scanned her room until her eyes settled on her school outfit hanging from the door knob of her dresser. She moved to grab the outfit, but paused as she examined the seam that connected the right shoulder to sleeve.
Sure enough, the rip—a recent reminder of her growing body—had been mended, the stitching so seamlessly integrated it seemed to disappear the moment her eyes strayed from it.
She smiled, feeling a little guilty. Putting on the shirt seemed almost cruel, dooming it to join its crumpled brethren strewn across the floor, ruining it just like everything she touched…
"It's too early for this," she muttered to the room. "Too early to be awake, too late to back to sleep…not that it would do any good."
The room held its tongue, neither acknowledging or contradicting her words, and she took it as a sign to finish getting ready.
As usual, the mirror that hung in the corner of her room confirmed what Misato had known since she was eleven; while not the tallest or the slimmest in her class, she could at least boast claim to have the biggest bust, a fact of others recognized, openly or not. Her hair was another mark of pride and target of scrutiny, reaching down to the middle of her back yet somehow resistant to the split ends that plagued her peers.
Misato gave her a mane a few cursory strokes of a brush out of habit, did a final once-over, and then made her to the kitchen.
Rounding the corner that separated the bedrooms from the rest of the house, she halted as she took in the sight before her.
Shinji was standing at the stove, humming softly, foot tapping and fingers snapping to some unheard beat while he worked a spatula around a pan of eggs.
He turned, eye widening in surprise before he pulled out his ear buds and returned her wide grin with a sheepish one of his own.
"Good morning, Misato."
"Mornin', Cap-uh, Major," she replied. "Finished all that paperwork I see."
The man scratched the back of his head as he set a platter loaded with bread rolls and sausages onto the table.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Super obvious," she said, settling into her place at the table. "Remind me again why you can't, like, get a secretary or something to do that stuff? Or have one of the techs do it?"
"I wish, but everything needs my signature, or at least needs to look at it," he answered. "You wouldn't believe what people try to get away with when they think you don't check the bills they send you."
"Like what?"
"Well, a little while back some guy working middle management over in the one of the construction companies we deal with tried to sneak in the loans he racked up for his startup," he said. "Think it had something to do with was old world reclamation or spelunking. Can't quite remember, but it was close to a quarter of a million yen."
"No way…really?"
"Uh-huh. Nerv's electricity bill alone is big enough on its own that you wouldn't a sum like that notice without checking," he replied, dropping off a plate of pancakes. "Elbows."
Sliding her elbows off the table, Misato began loading her own plate with goodies. While she wasn't overly fond of western foods, she had to admit that pancakes overcame all cultural boundaries.
"Coffee?" Shinji asked, presented a steaming pot.
"Of course."
He tilted the pot and the heavenly liquid streamed forth to fill her cup…until it stopped halfway to the top.
She looked down, then flicked her eyes up at him, tapping her mug lightly against the table.
"C'mon, don't hold out on me. Aren't I your favorite?"
"First off, you're both my favorite," he poured himself a full cup. "Second, kids your age shouldn't rely on coffee. It messes up your sleep schedule."
Misato managed to stop her eyes rolling as her guardian sat down to eat.
He probably read that from a parenting book.
"I'm fourteen, Shinji, hardly a kid," she huffed. "Besides, teens my age don't pilot war machines or get hazard pay."
Shinji's opened his mouth to speak, but only managed to sigh as he topped off her mug.
Coffee attained, Misato promptly dumped in four spoonfuls of sugar, and indulged in the spike of energy that rushed through her as she nearly burned her insides downing it. The wince on her guardian's face only served to sweeten the brew even further.
After ferrying the rest of the dishes to the table, the man laid a napkin in his lap, but didn't move to pick up his utensils. Instead, he cleared his throat and moved his plate to the side, making room to lace his fingers together in front of him.
Misato immediately recognized the pose for what it was-"I've-got-news-you-won't-like-kiddo"-and put her mug down, sorely tempted to dump even more sugar straight into her mouth as the lingering taste turned bitter.
"Your father wants to have a word with you after your sync tests today," he said, his gaze holding steady on her face.
"My father," she sucked her teeth. "Or 'The Commander'?"
"Your father," he answered, keeping his face and voice neutral. "This was off hours."
"Tch, we both know he doesn't have off hours," she retorted, spearing a sausage with a fork, "I bet it not even important anyway. If it was he would've just told me himself, or put in my schedule. Or, just called me like, ya know, a normal person."
"Misato, you know your father is a busy man…"
Misato managed to resist rolling her eyes again, though something in her face must have given her away because Shinji's own expression began to soften.
"Which isn't an excuse for how he handles things, believe me, I know," his hands undid themselves slightly, giving just enough leeway to let him tap a trimmed nail against the table. "But you have to keep in mind your father is…"
A workaholic pencil-pusher who'd rather burn his eyes looking at screens than actually take command. Everyone knows it. That's why no one turns to him when an angel attacks. They all turn you. He's soft, wea-
"…human. And while he is…fickle when it comes to non-work related matters, at least he does keep them in mind."
Misato's fork bit into another sausage, and she used the time it took to chew to mull over the description. Shinji had a point; her father was indeed human-to a fault-having the seemingly infinite capability for failure almost everyone seemed to share; him even more so.
Does that mean he's good at being human, or terrible at it?
"Whatever," she declared with a shake of her head. "I'll see what he wants if I happen to run into him. That good enough?"
"Yes," Shinji said, fingers fully unlaced to pick up tableware. "Thank you."
Misato eyed her boss as he went about neatly cutting his food into bite sized squares.
"Shinji-san?"
"Hmm?"
"What was your dad like?"
Misato watched as his jaw slowed to a halt and his lips pressed into a frown; his remaining eye closing itself to the world.
As with the posturing and the finger lacing, Misato had learned in the roughly four months of she had lived with the man to keep an eye out for this particular expression—which she simply dubbed "contemplation". That same amount of time had also taught her just how vastly his patience outweighed hers, and just how slippery he could be when answering a question.
So she waited, confident some sort of answer would come eventually as he had never outright ignored any of her questions—not yet, at least.
After nearly a minute of silence she was rewarded.
"My…" he started, then stopped, chewed, then swallowed. "Gendo was driven, single minded even, to the point he excluded everything that didn't concern whatever he had his eyes set on."
Like you?
"He-"
The word was bitten off as a yawn filled the air.
Misato scowled and looked behind her, to where Kaji shuffled forward out of the hallway, hand reaching under his shirt to scratch at his ribs.
Her fellow pilot plopped into his seat, then and bristled as he sipped the brew poured for him.
Lazy, lackadaisical, lethargic; all these words described Kaji so thoroughly that she had jokingly cracked open a dictionary to check if his picture wasn't there next to them.
That said, he had at least managed to put on his uniform before coming to the table, though he hadn't bothered to put his hair tie on, leaving his hair to drape down to the nape his neck. This was in stark contrast to the sparse smattering of stubby hairs on his chin, sparse enough that one could slide a finger between each of them.
And you have. And they tickle when he-
"Something on my face?" Kaji asked, smiling.
Misato blinked, realizing she'd been caught staring. Her scowl deepened as she turned back to her plate.
"Just that stupid grin of yours."
"Play nice you two," Shinji said, sliding a plate to Kaji. "Morning, Kaji-kun. Thank you separating the recycling last night."
"No problem, Major," Kaji eagerly dug into his food even as he piled more on. "If I'd known we'd be having sausage and eggs I wouldn't have eaten so much last night."
"I figured you might appreciate something you'd be more familiar with, given your time in Europe," Shinji pointed a fork at Kaji's plate. "How is it?"
The teen's answer was a thumbs up and stifle a burp with his fist.
"Don't be such a pig, Kaji," Misato said.
"Says the girl with her bra strap showing," he snorted.
Misato blushed and clutched at her shoulders, only to remember her uniform covered both completely.
She growled and swatted the boy on the arm, "Grow up!"
He shrugged, another self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face like butter, "You know, now that I think about it, I've never tried growing down."
There he goes again, trying to be clever.
Shinji shot the boy a warning look, but the effect was ruined by the slight smile he wore.
The rest of meal passed peacefully enough, barring the few times Kaji's leg rubbed against hers. Whether it was a ploy to pester her further or if he actually couldn't keep his gangly legs in order, she couldn't tell; Kaji was irritating that way.
Regardless, she managed to finish breakfast without incident.
"Everyone full?" Shinji asked, standing up to collect the dishes.
She rolled her eyes, this time not bothering to stop this time.
"Check," she and Kaji chimed together.
"Teeth brushed?"
"Check."
"Phones charged?"
"Check."
Shinji nodded with satisfaction, going through his pockets a final time before pulling out his car keys.
"Alright, let's go."
"Katsuragi?"
Misato blinked, turning her head from the window to the hobbled husk that was the history teacher.
"Uh, third impact?" She answered.
"No, Ms. Katsuragi, I can assure you Archduke Ferdinand was not assassinated by the Third Impact," the teacher sighed, once again looking like an early retirement, or even an early grave, was preferable to what he was doing. "And I highly doubt he would've lived long enough to experience the event, had he not been shot."
Pockets of snickers broke out around the classroom and Misato rubbed the back of her head, forcing a smile on her face. It'd been worth a shot, considering the old geezer loved to ramble on and on about the event whenever he deemed the class—or he himself—had lost interest in the current topic, which was often.
"Anyone else?"
The laughter died down, and in the posthumous silence the students waited, no one bothering to heed the call.
Five heartbeats passed, then Ritsuko raised her hand like a drawbridge at its sanctioned time. The teacher nodded to her and turned to board before she even spoke.
"Gavrilo Princip," she answered, her tone relaying a considerable depth of boredom in a mere two words.
"Correct as always, Akagi," the teacher praised, unperturbed. "You would do well to follow her example, Katsuragi."
Misato bit her lip and grunted out something vaguely affirmative sounding. Meanwhile, Ritsuko was already back to hunching over notebook, not even bothering to acknowledge the kudos she'd been given, or the hole Misato tried to glare into the back of her skull.
That early morning exchange set the example for every class afterward, as it always did; the teachers would put forth some question or equation and their pet would promptly return with factoids or equations, as if they were engaged in some thinking man's game of fetch.
The banality of the ritual forced Misato back to staring out the window to avoid falling asleep, until finally, mercifully, the lunch bell rang.
Misato immediately set to work on her bento, attempting to fill her stomach with fried pork instead of frustration. It worked out rather well…until a pair of chop sticks crept into the edge of her peripheral vision and made a go at a cutlet.
"Damn it, you have your own lunch, K-"
"Hey now, no need to snap at me," Kiyomi pouted, withdrawing her chopsticks. "I promise to take only one bite this time, promise."
Misato grunted at her friend, who in turn pulled up a neighboring chair and pulled her own bento.
"Did you see the new comedy show that aired last night?" Kiyomi asked.
"No," Misato grunted. "Had to read up on safety protocols for work."
"That sucks. Why'd you have to do that?"
The question was simple, and perfectly reasonable, but Misato's ears could easily pick up on the strain underlying the other girl's voice.
Because I got so lost during the fire drill yesterday that Shinji-san called in a whole squad of Section 2 agents to look for me.
Outwardly Misato shrugged, making a show of relaxing as she stretched her arms over her head.
"Cause apparently it's someone full-time job to just make up rules and shit, and everyone else just has to follow along," she yawned. "I could barely make it past the second page before falling asleep."
Kiyomi smiled, seemingly satisfied, and dropped the pursuit in favor of digging into her meal.
Misato took another bite of her katsudon and eyed Kiyomi's lunch. Three rice balls, their lumpy textures betraying their rushed molding and lack of filling, met Misato's gaze.
Her father must still be in hospital, she thought, trying, and failing, to put together a timeline for how long a it would take for a leg to heal. It's not like I can ask her without making an ass of myself.
The pilot of Unit 01 squashed the niggling feeling of guilt coiling in her stomach, and shifted her bento closer to her friend.
"Eat."
Kiyomi shot her questioning look, which Misato pointedly ignored it.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
Together they ate, settling into a comfortable silence as the various cliques chattered and prattled harmlessly around them; all of their words diffusing into an equally meaningless babble.
"Hey," Kiyomi said, tilting her head to the side. "What do you think they're talking about?"
"Huh?" Misato said past a mouth full of lettuce. "Who?"
"Them."
Misato followed her friend's gaze until she eventually settled on a trio of boys sitting in the corner of the class.
Makoto had his laptop out and was talking excitedly about something—likely computer parts or a game—while Shigeru peered down at the screen and responded with matching enthusiasm. Seemingly oblivious to the other stooges, Kaji leaned back in an adjacent chair and making a fine effort to seem asleep.
Or he actually could be asleep, knowing him.
"Those knuckleheads?" Misato said. "Tits and ass, probably."
"Misato!" Kiyomi slapped her lightly on the shoulder, which Misato accepted with a grin.
"What? You know it's true. That's all they think about," she insisted. "'Boys will be boys'. Isn't that how the saying goes?"
Kiyomi shook her head in defeat, "True, double true."
Misato turned her attention to the remainder of her food, but soon stopped as she noticed someone shuffling foot to foot two desks ahead of her. The shuffler caught her look and quickly turned away, but Misato wasn't one to prey go so easily.
"Got something you want to add, Ibuki-chan?"
Misato smirked as the mousy girl squeaked-honest-to-God squeaked-but managed to stay composed as she turned to face her.
"I don't think…I mean…" Maya said, shifting from foot to foot. "Not what all boys are focused on…body parts."
"You mean tits and ass," Misato corrected.
Maya blushed and Misato couldn't help but relish the little blossom of sadism that bloomed in her at the sight.
"Hold on, wasn't your brother just suspended for bringing porn mags to school?" Kiyomi questioned.
"Th-Those were his friend's!" Maya said, fists balled at her sides. "They left him in his bag as a prank and he got caught."
"A prank, huh?" Kiyomi shifted in her seat and winked so hard at Misato that half of her face scrunched up. "With friends like that…"
"They weren't his!" the younger girl insisted. "Tell them, Senpai. You've met my brother, he's a good boy."
Maya turned her pleading eyes to the brunette she hovered over, but didn't quite touch, twisting her hands together as she waited. Predictably, the girl continued to methodically write in her notebook, ostensibly tuned out of the world that tried to drag her into it.
Does she ever stop sucking up? Misato thought with a scowl.
"Senpai?"
The pen stopped its incessant scratching, and Ritsuko rubbed her eyes before turning to finally take notice of her kouhai.
"As crudely as she presented it, Misato has a point, unfortunately" she said dryly. "Boys, especially those our age, have limited interests and an equally limited ability to think beyond those interests."
Misato watched as Maya deflated and found herself almost feeling pity for the younger girl…almost.
"There you have it, Maya," Kiyomi said. "Straight from the bookworm's mouth. She would know too, given all the love letters she used to receive.
"Boys are perverts, end of story," Kiyomi shot Misato another wink, though this one could almost be passed off as discreet. "But at least some of them are cute."
"Cute?" Misato snorted and shook her head. "Did you change schools without me noticing?"
"C'mon, Misato," Kiyomi said, eyes drifting to the side. "Even those knuckleheads aren't too bad on the eyes."
"I mean, Hyuga is a bit plain…but he's sincere," she continued, "And if you like long hair you get to choose between Aoba and Kaji."
Misato frowned and glanced back at the trio; Kaji still hadn't moved an inch.
"As his house mate and coworker I can tell you firsthand Kaji is nothing but a lazy pervert. If anything, he's the standard that proves the rule."
Kiyomi shot her a knowing look and Misato glared back, enforcing the look with bared teeth.
"Uh, so what about you, Akagi?" Kiyomi said, wisely choosing to back down.
Ritsuko paused in opening a pouch of what looked to be pumpkin seeds(brain food,Misato's mind groused) and it became apparent to anyone watching that she was debating whether or not to pretend like she hadn't heard the question. After a few seconds, the debate must have ended in a compromise because brunette spoke, but deigned not to face Kiyomi.
"What about me?" she said.
"What kind of boys do you like?"
Misato couldn't help but grimace as she noticed the people around them lean their way, eyes and ears honing in to receive whatever answer Ritsuko bothered to put out. She started to open her mouth but her own curiosity stopped her from redirecting them.
What sort of person catches the eye of an egghead like her anyway? she thought. Probably someone like Hyuga.
"Please leave me out of this," Ritsuko said with drawn out sigh.
"Nice try, Kiyomi," Misato cut in. "But our resident role-model only likes books, not boys, and they smartened up and noticed. I mean there's a reason she stopped getting letters."
"It's okay not to like boys, Senpai," Maya stepped forward, seemingly reanimated by the need to defend her idol. "I-I mean, they're just, uh, intimidated by your intellect. You deserve someone who can appreciate that part of y-"
"-They're 'intimidated' because she always acts all high and mighty," Misato scoffed, stepping on the heels of Maya's words. "Besides, it's not like she does anything to stand out anyway."
"Senpai is-"
The words were cut off as Ritsuko raised her hand and Maya obediently shut up.
"Thank you, Maya, but it seems this is a simple misunderstanding," she said. "Misato seems to have confused being high and mighty with merely having standards."
Ritsuko's turned in her seat, and cast her trademark I-can't-believe-I'm-still-dealing-with-this gaze at Misato.
"But, she is correct in saying I don't stand out," the girl's voice took on a strange tilt as the words tapered off. Then it heightened as it made it's return, bordering on defiant. "Yes, my assets are brains, not my breasts, but I'm assured it'll take me much farther in life."
Misato grit her teeth as the space around them broke out in the tell-tale low oohs and ahs that were inevitably sparked from their clashes.
"Well that brain of yours sure hell as doesn't make you a good pilot," she shot back.
To Misato's satisfaction, it was Ritsuko's face turn to clench her teeth, her hand trembling as it curled around her pen like a dagger like a dagger.
"Now now, what's all this commotion about? Some of us are trying to catch up on our beauty sleep."
A figure slid its way past Misato's left flank and a moment later her eyes took in Kaji leaning against Ritsuko's desk.
"We were just talking about how you had no boundaries, Ryo-chan," Ritsuko sighed, prodding at his hand with her pen.
"Hmm, I can't say I agree with that Rit-chan," he said, moving to drape his arms around her shoulders. "I very much have boundaries. They're just rather…thin."
Rather than shrug off the embrace, Ritsuko leaned into it, quietly conforming to the curve of his body.
Oh, but it didn't stop there. Kaji's hand dug into the bag of seeds and returned with a palmful, from which Ritsuko fussily picked a select few. He murmured something, and she answered with an affirmative click of her tongue.
If either of them took notice of the stares directed their way, they paid them no mind.
The beginning of a growl stirred at the base of Misato's tightened throat, more than a few choice words queued to erupt in its wake, but another voice proved faster.
"U-Unhand Akagi-senpai, Kaji-kun," Maya stuttered out, orbiting the two like a meteor threatening ruin. "Your behavior is inappropriate, a-and I'll report you if you don't stop."
Kaji leaned further, lowering his head parallel to Ritsuko's until they appeared to be some two-headed ogre.
"Ah, Maya-chan, I can ensure you there is nothing inappropriate going on. I'm merely engaging in conversation with a classmate and co-worker," he entreated. "And be a dear and don't go running to the student council. They're not my biggest fans."
"But what say you, Rit-chan?" he asked, offering another palmful of seeds. "Am I bothering you?"
Ritsuko huffed, quickly scribbled something in her notebook and lifted it for him to see. Kaji scratched his chin, chuckled, and then slowly released his hold on her before languidly straightening out.
He swiveled on his heel, at last laying his eyes on Misato.
"Ah, Katsuragi, t-"
Misato opened her mouth, but once again found her voice beaten out, not once, but twice, as the bell rang and the teacher reentered the room.
"Alright everyone, Lunch is over. Return to your seats," the teacher announced. "Ryoji, Katsuragi, Ikari-san called. He should be arriving soon to pick you two up."
Despite being a bona fide layabout, Kaji could move shockingly fast when he chose to. Whether in battle or goofing off during soccer practice, her fellow pilot always surprised Misato when he actually put his body to work.
Now however, that hidden side of him irritated Misato to no end as he strode straight to the exit, leaving her alone to gather her things.
"Hey," Kiyomi whispered with her hand cupped to her mouth, "That thing your friend was asking about last weekend…is she going to try it?"
Misato glanced at the door to the classroom; Kaji didn't reappear.
"We'll see," she grunted.
Misato left the classroom and soon found her inconsiderate house-mate leaning against the entryway of the lobby.
She moved to grab his shoulder, but stopped as she realized his attention was focused on something in the parking lot. Misato took quick step back into the building, adjusting herself so her new target didn't have a direct line of sight of her, and squinted.
As expected, Shinji was already waiting for them, ever easy to spot thanks to his height and Nerv-issued black car parked a respectful distance from its peers.
What wasn't expected, and what made stop Misato in her own tracks, was the fact that he talking to woman—a rather pretty woman.
In comparison to her guardian, Misato guessed the woman was only slightly taller than herself, though it was hard to tell with how stood behind the man and the billowing white dress that teasingly flashed the toned legs underneath. Misato respected the boldness in choosing such a dress; a simple spill or slight brush against anything remotely dirty would transmute the tasteful ensemble into a used napkin. And yet this woman looked pristine from head to sandaled toe, her skin not even betraying a sheen of sweat.
The low-cut dress, Misato also noticed, did a great job of showing off her freckled shoulders and a decent amount of cleavage, something Shinji also seemed to have picked up on as his head subtly bobbed back and forth from her face to the rest of her.
While Misato stared, a giggle floated it's to her, as light and airy as the summer breeze that carried it. The woman moved to rest her hand on the Major's upper arm while the other tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear.
Shinji raised his hand to hers, easily engulfing it with his long fingers, and smiled back.
"Who is she?" Misato whispered, not daring to have her words carried back to the pair.
"Huh?" Kaji said, finally seeming to take notice of her. "Oh, hey, Katsuragi, have you seen that lady before? You've known the Major longer than I have."
"I just ask-" Misato glowered and clenched her fist.
Boys will be boys.
"No, I don't know," she said. "And I won't know if we just stand here gawking."
Misato punctuated the word by pinching his arm, leaving him to gripe indignantly as she marched forward.
The woman quickly noticed her approach and waved; Shinji turned around, hands falling away to stuff themselves in his jacket pockets.
"H-hey you two," Shinji called out. "Ready to go?"
Misato slowed her advance as she drew near, using the time to gauge the mystery woman. Though her boyishly short hair and crooked nose kept her from being the classical definition of Japanese beauty, they did little to detract from the cheeriness that seemed radiate from her smile; a smile Misato couldn't help but reciprocate.
And her eyes are almost the same shade of blue as the Major's, Misato noted after a second pass.
"Been ready," Misato pointed her chin at the newcomer. "She coming with us?"
"Oh no, no, she's-"
"Kirishima Mana, at your service," the woman said with a curtsy, her voice as chipper as the giggles had indicated. "You must be Shinji's children. It's a pleasure to finally meet you two."
His children? Misato cocked her head to the side, digesting the words. I mean, I'm called 'First Child' and Kaji's the 'Second Child', so I guess we kind of are?
"We're his wards, not his children," Kaji corrected from behind her back.
"Apologies," Mana bowed slightly, giving a Misato a peek at her admirable cleavage. "Shinji here was vague on details. The last time we spoke he was still a bachelor and then I hear he's taken in two kids."
"How do you know him?" Misato said.
"Oh, we served in the JSDF together," Mana said. "We went through a lot, didn't we, Invincible?"
"Wait, you were in the JSDF?" Misato turned to her guardian and Kaji mimicked the motion.
It was Mana's turn to cock her head, eyebrows raised at Shinji. He stiffened and met the look head on, hands still buried.
In the span of seconds, Misato watched as an entire conversation played out across the faces of the two adults in a series of the twitches and twinges. Mana's facial language seemed almost exclusively composed of pouts, while Shinji favored the micro-frown and furrowed brow. Unfortunately for Misato, the most she could glean from the silent conversation was that Mana appeared apologetic about whatever it they were 'talking' about, but the curl of her lips invited a second guess.
"I did serve in the JSDF," Shinji stated at last. "Prior to joining Nerv."
A lively jingle filled the lot, leaving both Misato and Kaji to look around in confusion. Mana sighed, reaching through the window of Shinji's car to pull out a tasteful looking purse, and dug up a phone from its depths.
The woman swiped her finger across the screen in a drawn out pattern that made Misato's head vaguely ache, then huffed.
"Drat! Looks like I have to be on my way," Mana said, turning her unnaturally white teeth on the teens. "It was nice meeting you two."
She shifted her gaze back to Shinji with a bat of her eyelashes, "And you, of course. Try not to be such a stranger this time, okay?"
"Likewise," Shinji said, extending a hand.
Mana's pout returned as she eyed the hand. Then she stepped forward to embrace him in a full-on hug, "I know it's sudden, but do give some thought to what we talked about, won't you? It would mean a lot to me."
Shinji's hands clenched and unclenched before awkwardly patted her back, "…I'll check my schedule."
Mana released the man after two more squeezes and flashed the three of them a final dazzling smile before walking away. Misato watched in fascination as her caretaker's eye followed her toned calves cross the asphalt to a cute little buggy of a car.
Reminded there was another male present-one she was still pissed at-Misato looked over her shoulder, and was surprised to find Kaji's focus wasn't also glued on the woman's figure. Instead, his was on their guardian's inscrutable expression.
"Major?" Misato prompted.
The man jolted in place, fumbling slightly as he opened the car door for them, "Y-yes, right, time to go…Either of you seen Akagi?"
"She said she was staying behind to study," Kaji said. "Section Two is going to pick her up later."
"Not that she ever rides with us, anyway," Misato muttered under her breath. "Thank God."
Shinji tipped his head towards the school, eye narrowing in some vain attempt to pierce through its walls.
"I see…seat-belts on?"
"Check."
"Good, off we go then.
As the car merged into lunch-time traffic, Misato fell into the usual routine of fidgeting and bouncing her leg up and down. Across from her, Kaji yawned, his knee drifting to softly knock against hers.
She ignored it, and the look he tried to shoot her.
I bet he's wondering why I pinched him. Well he can figure that out by himself.
Putting the bothersome boy out her mind, she focused on the man behind the wheel, contemplating how best to confront the charming elephant in the room.
After a few moments, she decided subtlety would never be one of her strengths and settled for a direct attack.
"So," Misato started, keeping her voice neutral. "Mana, huh?"
Shinji's blue-gray eye flicked up to catch her in the rear-view mirror, then darted back to the road.
"Yes, that's her name," he replied, his fingers starting to drum out a lively rhythm against the steering wheel.
"You were army buddies."
"That's right. She's also one of my oldest friends, actually."
Sensing a opening, Misato pressed forward, "Is she an old friend like Aida-san from the tech crew, or an old friend like Inspector Sohryu? Were you close?"
Shinji's impromptu rhythm slowed, losing some of its liveliness.
"We all served together in the same unit, eventually, though it was Kensuke who was the first to sign up," Shinji said. "I actually haven't seen Mana, or anyone else from JSDF, in years."
Misato frowned, her train of thought yielding to examine something on the tracks.
"Wait, you served with Aida-san?"
"I did…why?"
"Well," she rustled up the few memories she had of running into the bespectacled techie. "I thought he was always, I don't know, anti-war. He's got those pictures of him protesting on his desk and he's got those hippie-dippie stickers all over his laptop."
"You see…Kensuke signed up to make a name for himself, and help people, I suppose…but that exactly didn't pan it, at least not in the way he wanted," Shinji sighed. "Being at the bottom of the totem pole means you rarely get a choice in where your deployed, or what you do, military or not."
"Tell me about it," Misato muttered to herself.
Nerv, with its adherence to structure and regulations, had long since taught her that lesson—on her first day, no less-then continually rubbed her nose in it like an unruly dog. World saving pilot she might be, she was merely a grunt in the eyes of the adults around her, and a teenage one to boot.
"So why did Mana suddenly show up out of the blue?" Misato pivoted. "She a stalker or something?"
The tempo lagged further, becoming a floundering heartbeat.
You're digging at something, something that's supposed to be scabbed over a voice in her mind warned. Stop it or you'll lose him.
"No," he said slowly. "She's actually on the board of directors for the school. Just found out myself actually."
Misato leaned back in her seat, pondering her next angle of attack. To her surprise, it was Kaji who decided for her.
"Ikari-san, why did you enlist?" he asked.
"Me?" Shinji patted his chest. "The few friends I had were joining up, and being fresh out of high school it seemed to make sense since the entire school system was still a mess," he grimaced. "…and I didn't want study for studying's sake, or work towards something I didn't care for, though I really didn't care for…anything at the time, truth be told…So it just seemed the obvious choice at the time."
"And what did you do while you served?"
Shinji's fingers ceased their tapping, and Misato watched as the muscles in his face slackened to leave only a unnerving vacancy.
The car rolled on without so much as a sniffle passed between the riders, leaving the muffled sounds of the downtown to press in on the, like blood pumping through an ear.
Gradually the car flowed up an arterial highway, abandoning the heart of city and it's noise—but that only left Misato to wallow in the silence left in its wake.
Misato nervously picked at a stray thread on her skirt, making an effort to not look at the void that her guardian's face had become. Kaji kept his head down, repeatedly trying to smooth out unseen wrinkles from his shirt.
Then Shinji barked (growled? choked?), making both pilots jump in their seats, and it took Misato a moment to realize the sound may have been laughter.
"I contributed to anti-angel countermeasures, fat lot that ended up achieving," Shinji's face regained its texture, and Misato saw the anger etched into his returning features. "Billions of yen, euros and dollars down the drain, three years of my life wasted…good people dead…"
His jaw clenched and shuddered, lips curling back in a snarl.
"…all because he couldn't leave well enough alone."
Silence enveloped the car once more as it was swallowed by a tunnel cut into the side of a familiar hill, and Misato found herself saturated in red from the lights overhead.
A massive steel door soon blocked their path; the imprinted Nerv logo bearing down on them with its ominous motto: 'God is in heaven. All is right with the world'. Shinji popped open the glove compartment, pressed a square of plastic against the windshield, and waited.
Distant whirring sounded from all sides, and apparently appeased, the door slid away, allowing the car to lurch forward and rest on a massive conveyor that slowly rumbled to life.
"Listen," Shinji declared in the gloom, nearly causing Misato to jump again. "That's a misguided reason to do things…acting on something just because your friends are doing it, I mean."
He turned in his seat fully to take in Misato's face, then Kaji's-his intense gaze holding them captive until he was certain he had their attention.
"Decide for yourself what you do with your life, understand?" he continued. "Even when there only seems to be one choice presented to you, there's always the option to not. Take that to heart, you two."
"A-alright," Misato shivered. "Sir."
"I hear ya, Major," Kaji said, turning away.
"Good," Shinji turned back, posture rigid as the car sank into the preliminary levels of Nerv. "Now I don't expect you guys to be run through the full gauntlet, but steel yourselves just in case."
Misato shifted in her seat, grimacing as she tried the stifle the paranoia that she'd emerge from the entry plug as orange the liquid she was submerged in. She doubted she would ever get used being in the bizarre cockpit; how the LCL pressed against her at all times, or the coppery taste it left in her mouth.
"Are we done yet?" she said, thumbing the com button.
Dr. Ayanami's soft monotone pushed through the liquid, somehow seeming to both surround Misato and pierce her ear drums.
"Patience, Pilot Katsuragi. We are almost done calibrating."
"My ass is getting sore," Misato grumbled.
"Noted."
Misato stuck her tongue out at the doctor's apparent catch-phrase and stretched her legs as best she could, "So how am I doing, Doc? Still kicking ass?"
"Your sync ratio has continued to improved, averaging at sixty-two percent and peaking at sixty-nine percent."
Kaji's snort drifted into her ear, and Misato couldn't help but giggle a bit.
"What about mine?" Kaji asked.
"Your scored averaged out at fifty-five percent, with a peak of fifty-eight."
"And what was Akagi's?" Misato inquired.
"Fifty percent, up from forty-six percent as of her last test."
So I'm still head and shoulders of little Ms. Perfect, but she's starting to catch up.
Misato frowned at the thought, but relaxed as she heard the tell-tale hiss and shudder of the entry plug being disengaged.
"We are finished with testing for today," Ayanami said. "Please standby until the LCL is fully drained."
Gradually, the orange fluid, pumped in from god-knows-where, drained away to who-the-hell-knows, leaving Misato to shiver and sputter like a fish forced from its blood-warm pond. She thumbed the side of her nose thumb and made to eject a glob of snot, but hesitated as part of her suddenly wondered whether or not they recycled the fluid.
Have to cut costs somewhere I guess, she clucked her tongue and grimaced at the slime that coated her it. Shinji-san would probably know.
Misato climbed out of the plug, ignoring both the subtle and not-so-subtle gazes directed at her from the various crews scurrying about, and made her way to showers.
Slowly peeling her plug suit off her body, lest she risk uprooting all her body hair, the pilot of Unit 01 wondered what sort of fetishist had designed the damned things.
Skin-tight and glossy, the plug suit always looked and felt perversely slick, which made Misato feel as though she had stepped out a kink shop, or was some bloated eel with legs-sometimes both. It certainly didn't help that all the seams directed the eye to her most vulnerable areas, including the cups that held her breasts—both colored a bright blue in contrast to the plum theming. To make matters even worse, moving the wrong way caused it the material to bunch and hitch, meaning she was always overly conscious of how she moved outside of the plug.
At least I'm not the only one who has to dress up like some fancy gimp, she thought as she dried herself off. I wonder how Kaji feels about it.
Tossing the towel in the hamper, Misato narrowed her eyes at the opaque partition that separated her from the boy plaguing her thoughts.
Kaji's suit was halfway peeled halfway off the silhouette of his body, which made him resemble a peeled banana. Misato started to laugh, but stopped as she noticed his hand was propped against the locker, head bowed to the floor.
"You alright there, Kaji?" she called. "You're not jerking off or anything, are you?
The boy jumped, head snapping in her direction. Then he crossed an arm over his chest and made a 'shooing' motion with the other.
"Hey now, I don't give free shows," he said demurely.
Hands on her hips, Misato stepped forward and puffed out her chest, and was pleased to see his head lower to idle there.
"Don't take too long," she ordered. "I want to go home and relax."
"Alright, alright," she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Lemme finish powdering my nose and we'll find Ikari-san."
Misato nodded, patted down her hair with another towel, and left.
Unfortunately for her, the search immediately turned sour as she took in the sight of The Commander laughing as he exited the elevator…with Akagi at his side.
Teacher's pet, Commander's pet, a voice growled in her mind. They really should put a collar on that bitch and be done with it.
Suddenly she felt the urge to turn around and go back to teasing Kaji, but that thought withered away as quickly as it was born as the reasoning part of her mind kicked in and did its job. Knowing the man before her, he'd simply seek her out again at some point, or rather send Shinji to carry out the job, again.
Besides, Misato was never one to back down; only cowards and people in over their heads did so.
"No use delaying the inevitable," she muttered to herself.
Striding forward, her school shoes slapped hard against linoleum, doing the favor of announcing her presence.
Ritsuko was the first to look up, her laughter faltering as she caught sight of Misato's sneer. Her fath-The Commander quickly caught on and turned, his laughter dying away as well.
Bloodshot eyes regarded Misato with their usual weariness, though the bags under were less pronounced than usual. The characteristic stubble on his face was gone, given way to a multitude of scabbed over nicks and scrapes, which made the errant patch of hair below his ear all the more obvious.
The overall result was that the forty-something-year-old man before looked quite a bit younger, and oddly naked—a thought that made Misato's skin crawl.
"I should be going," Ritsuko said, breaking the silence. "Your insight was very helpful, Commander, as always. Please do remember to re-shave when you have the chance."
The Commander of Nerv HQ scratched at his chin and grinned, "What would I do without you, Ritsuko-chan."
The girl departed without so much as a second glance at her fellow pilot, leaving the Commander to turn his full attention to Misato.
"Daughter," he greeted.
"Commander," she said flatly.
She crossed her arms…and waited.
He scratched at the offending strip of hair…and waited.
Misato smothered the need to scream and instead transferred the energy into tapping her foot, "Major Ikari said you wanted to speak with me."
The man's eyes blinked once, twice, then slowly widened in realization.
"Ah, yes, I was hoping to touch base with you tomorrow," he patted his jacket pocket, groping for the mini itinerary and fountain pen she knew lived there. "Perhaps over lunch?"
Misato bit the inside of her cheek; spending the little time she had off from school and work with the man before her was not how she not something she looking forward to. Perhaps when she'd been a child, still hopeful, still naive…but now…
"I should be available from noon onward," he announced after scanning the little notebook. "What time would you like to meet?"
Key Words: Should be.
"2PM" she settled.
He clucked his tongue and scribbled, "A little late…but it'll do."
If you have issues with the time then why bother giving me the choice?
"Where are we eating?"
"I'll make reservations at a little seafood I've been ordering from recently," the corners of his eyes creased as though he was relinquishing a trade secret. "They're quite good."
"I'll take your word for it," Misato pulled out her phone to set an alarm for 1PM—better safe than sorry. "So, 2 pm, seafood joint, you'll be there."
"Yes, I'll be there," he confirmed. "I'll make sure to inform the Major so he can drop you off."
Misato nodded and started to move aside, but the Commander lingered.
"Never late, The Major, that's why we hired him," he said. "Though tardiness would only be a minor issue, all things considered…haha…"
Misato stared at the man, and wondered-not for the first time-whether sleep deprivation had finally ruined him.
"What? If he showed up late, or if anyone did, we might die. Everyone might."
The Commander shuffled his feet, averting his eyes to the hall Akagi had disappeared down.
"Oh, er, you see-"
"Commander Katsuragi, a word, sir."
Someone called out from outside Misato's field of view, and the older Katsuragi visibly relaxed as he promptly brushed past her with a muttered excuse.
Misato looked at her phone, counted backward from twenty, then exhaled slowly through her nose.
"You alright?"
She turned and found Kaji leaning against the wall, watching her.
I want the Commander to keep his word! I want to know what more about Shinji-san without him potentially freaking out! I want to know why he freaked! I want to know why you're so chummy with Akagi!
"I…I'm fine," she grunted. "Come on, let's find Shinji-san."
Dinner—a simple spread of grilled mackerel, rice and salad—would've been uneventful, were it not for the fact both Misato and Kaji had front row seats to their CO blatantly break taboo.
"Hey, Shinji?" Misato asked, resting her elbows on the table.
"Yeah?" he said, alternating between fiddling with his phone and trying to feed himself.
"…I've been thinking about getting my belly button pierced."
"Alright."
Misato glanced at her other house-mate, who returned her surprised look with of one his own before winking.
"…And I might get a tattoo while I'm at it."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm either going to get 'juicy' on my left butt cheek, or an octopus like this lady I saw online," she put her wrists together and wriggled in fingers in an imitation of tentacles. "The mouth is going to be my as-"
"Misato!"
Misato giggled as her guardian sputtered and shot her a disapproving look.
"'No phones at the table unless it's an emergency'," she recited in a sing-song voice. "I'm pretty sure those are the rules."
Still red-faced, Shinji put his phone down and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sor-I'll do better," he said. "Just waiting on some news."
"Good or bad?" Kaji asked.
"We'll see," Shinji straightened in his seat, hand raised in a reassuring gesture. "Nothing for you guys to worry about, it's just-."
His phone vibrated, jittering towards the edge of the table.
For a moment, his expression smoothed over like it had done in the car and Misato braced herself for another outburst.
The outburst never came however. Her guardian's face instead settled into a look of…resignation(?).
"I know this is sudden, but could guys handle the dishes?" Shinji said, standing up. "Something came up and-"
"-And you're never late, that's why they hired you," Misato finished.
Shinji gave her an odd look, then smiled as moved to check himself in the hall mirror.
"I'm starting to think you know me too well."
"You say that like it's a bad thing…" she said, cocking her head to the side. "Don't stay up too late now."
"That's my line," he reached out to ruffle her hair. "Now, I should only be gone for a couple hours, but make sure to lock the door."
After pointing out the list of emergency numbers taped to the fridge and a triple-check of the alarm system, Shinji left.
To good news, or bad, who's to say? Misato thought as she pressed her ear to the door.
While Shinji's car was well maintained enough that it didn't rattle and whine like it's some of its peers, it made enough of a distinctive noise that Misato was able to hear it pull out of the parking lot and cruise down the street.
Misato smiled and strode back into the house, warmth spreading outward from her abdomen each step.
"It's your turn to do the dishes, just so you know," she said to Kaji, who was already in the process of clearing the table.
"Not like I can leave you to do it with the way you handle it" he replied, watching her walk further into the house. "But you can help me them dry at least."
"I'm going powder my nose."
"Alright, make sure to light a match or something."
Misato grunted in disgust and tossed a fork at him, which he dodged with a laugh.
As she went about her business, Misato tuned out the sounds coming from the kitchen and strained to pick up any indication The Major had decided to turn around and ruin the evening she now planned.
To her relief, no such indication came in the time it took for her to finish up, so she went to her room to finish preparing.
Stripping off her usual nightwear of a shirt and sweatpants, she exchanged them for an over-sized chemise that reached down to the mid-thigh. A brief skim of her panties offered no stand-out contenders, leading her to forgo them completely.
Dressed, she opened a drawer in her dresser and palmed a small jar before making the short trip across the hall.
Kaji's room-formerly Shinji's-maintained it's usually atmosphere of being dim and cool, and perhaps in honor of its former inhabitant, was also unnervingly clean.
Sure, there was today's homework spread across the desk and a stray sock hung off the side of a laundry basket, but compared to her own lodgings it downright spartan—which only served to highlight how much space the bed and it's occupant seemed to take up.
The occupant in question was laid on his back, hands in their default position behind his head, giving no indication that he'd heard her enter.
Misato opened her mouth to announce herself, but instead chose to enter without a word.
Circling the bed, Misato took inventory of the room: a surfboard propped up in the closet, a framed picture of a smiling Asuka posing over some mountain vista, a baseball cap set on a little stand (one she had never seen him wear, or any hat for that matter)—all things that bespoke of the life Kaji had led before he had met her.
Gradually, she corrected her trajectory until she stood next to the bed, looking down at him.
She coughed into her fist; he didn't stir.
She coughed again, loud enough for it to echo; Kaji didn't so much as twitch.
Scowling, Misato climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on either side of his head as she straddled his waist.
At last, he opened his eyes, briefly meeting her gaze before tilting his head to stare directly down her shirt.
"Nice."
She squeezed her legs together, digging her knees into his sides.
"Pervert."
"I know you are," he retorted, smirking, "But what am I?"
She didn't dignify the question with a comeback, and instead rolled over onto her back, shifting until she lay between him and the wall.
After a moment of adjusting, she reached up and draped his arm across her shoulders. He squeezed her bicep lightly and she turned to tuck herself into his side.
As she moved into position, Misato felt something brush against the back of leg; she reached down to retrieve whatever it was.
"It" was a book, caught snugly between the mattress and the wall, and were its cover not a dead giveaway to its contents, its title sure was.
"'A Practical Guide To Bonsai'?" Misato huffed, turning the book towards Kaji. "Already having a mid-life crisis, huh?"
The boy turned his head to rest his chin on her head with a yawn, "It's for a school project."
"I must have missed when they assigned it."
"Says the girl who spends every class looking out the window."
"At least I don't take naps like we're in preschool or something," she shot back, digging a thumb into his ribs.
"I'm only half asleep," he said. "The other half of my brain is razor focused on black board. It's Multitasking 101, really."
"Uh-huh."
Misato stretched and dropped the book to the floor, then settled back into place with a sigh.
"Hey," she said, rapping her knuckle's against Kaji's sternum. "How much do you wanna bet that "business" the Major is up to is that Mana lady?"
Kaji scratched his chin and frowned.
"What makes you think that?"
"C'mon," she rapped again, harder. "An old friend, who happens to be hot, shows up out of the blue, makes fuck-me eyes at the Major and he suddenly has 'business' to attend to? The same Major who we know doesn't drink, doesn't party, and works from home whenever he has the chance?"
Misato reached up to trace a finger along Kaji's jawline, "I mean, good for him, but it's so obvious I almost don't want to believe it."
"You're probably right…But regardless," Kaji said, running a thumb down the back of her arm. "You think that Mana is hot. Got something you want to tell me?"
"What? I can appreciate beauty when I see it, nothing wrong with that. Don't think I didn't see you also staring when we first saw her."
He shrugged, "Great minds think alike I suppose."
Misato verged on another accusation of 'pervert', but stopped as a thought came to her.
"So, think we should tell Sohryu-san?"
Kaji shifted beneath her and though she couldn't see his face, Misato could feel how his body tensed in response.
"Why? They're not together anymore."
"Sure they're not, but she always finds some excuse to hang around him, like when she invited herself to our trip to the hot springs," she countered. "Call it woman's intuition, but she totally wants to get back together."
"It's none of our business."
He emphasized the line with another shrug and let go of her arm, which caused the pleasant warmth she'd been nursing to become doused in guilt.
The fiery redhead was supposed to be Kaji's caretaker-his Shinji-but she had barely seen hide nor hair of the woman in two weeks; a fact compounded by an already spotty record of public appearances.
That said, though they shared the Major as a reliable source of support, Misato also had the aunt and cousins that had raised since she could tie her shoes, and who obnoxiously crowded her phone's screen during their weekly calls.
…And she also had the Commander, even as 'fickle' as he was.
In contrast, the relatives Kaji mentioned from time to time were never spoken of without any real fondness or depth, as if they were merely distant rain clouds rather than people.
As far as Misato knew, Kaji had no one else.
No one but me.
"Maybe you're right, it's not our business," she said, pulling his hand back to her. "And listen, I'm sure Sohryu's probably putting some U.N bigwig in a headlock or something, and she'll come back with a story to tell and some souvenirs like she usually does."
Misato was relieved to feel the muscles under her fingertips tremble as Kaji chuckled.
"That does sound like her."
"Hey," Misato said, craning her neck up at him. "This is the perfect chance to kiss me."
"Hmm, very well," he hummed softly, then pressed his mouth softly against her hairline.
"On my mouth, smart-ass."
He chuckled again and reclined back for a better angle; in a flash of insight, Misato was reminded of how he had deployed the same tactic earlier that day.
Misato craned her neck towards his offered lips, and then nipped at the lower one, briefly holding it hostage between her teeth before letting go.
"Ouch!" Kaji touched the wounded lip with all the shock and awe of someone who'd been stabbed in the back. "What was that for?"
"I just remembered I'm mad at you!" she scowled.
"Aren't you always?"
"Yeah, but this time I'm pissed!"
Kaji squinted in some apparent effort to read between the words that lingered between them.
"Can I at least know why?"
"Cause you were throwing yourself all over Ritsuko today!" she growled.
He sighed, "That's it?"
"That's it?" she echoed in a parody of his voice. "Look, I know we aren't-"
She clenched and unclenched her hands, as if she could threaten her own brain into providing nuance.
"-together, but you know how I feel about you being flirtyto her, and you know how I feel about your pet-names for each other!"
Kaji's frown deepened, but it quickly inverted into a lopsided smile; the same grin that had a sordid history of disarming her-as it did now. His fingers slid along her shoulder and started rubbing circles into her back, and Misato cursed her body as it squirmed and writhed.
"You're rather cute when you're angry."
She started another growl, but it degenerated into a moan as he continued to work his magic.
"I'm not jealous," she managed to breathe out. "And what? Are you saying I'm not normally cute?"
"You're usually beautiful."
Trapped between his fingers and his smooth words, Misato found her voice failing her, so she launched her own attack-hand sliding down his stomach to tug at the waistband of his pants.
The maneuver was stopped in its tracks however as Kaji gripped her wrist.
"At least take me to dinner and a movie first."
"I'll make it up to you," she laughed as she tugged at the band, but his grip held firm.
"What's wrong?" She bent her neck to sniff at her armpits. "Is it me?"
He averted his eyes, "I'm…it's just been a long day."
Misato sucked her teeth at this new hurdle. For better or worse, sex-at least the kind she wanted-required consent and enthusiasm.
"That's okay," she sat up, moving to straddle him once more. "I'll be on top this time."
"Listen, I…" he faced forward, studying her. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?""
She took his hand from hers and pushed it between her legs, letting him feel the wetness and heat that had built up.
"One week, two days, two hours," she hissed out. "Twenty minutes, give or take?"
Rather than dig into her further, he withdrew and reached to uncurl the fingers of her left hand, plucking the jar from her grip.
Kaji scrutinized the label in the dim light granted to them by the moon and clucked his tongue, "Coconut oil?"
Misato took off her shirt, using it as a screen to hide the blush spreading across her face.
"I wanted to pick up where we left off," she said, baring her breasts to him.
Concern colored his expression, staining the emerging arousal.
"You said it hurt though…"
"It did," she admitted. "But it felt also felt good, almost as good a-"
"-A-anyway, it's easier than buying condoms from vending machines I've practiced with my fingers and I already took care of the clean up," she gushed out. "Your dick, my ass. Let's do it!"
To her delight, he leaned forward, strong hands guiding her so that their positions were reversed—she on her back with him hovering above. While doing it behind carried its own thrill, she wanted to see him enter her, needed to his face contort in pleasure before everything became a torrid slurry of thrusting and grinding.
"Are you sure about this?" he said, unscrewing the lid off the jar.
Brushing aside her growing irritation, Misato gave her answer by way of tucking her shirt under her hips and reaching for him between her legs-and was pleased to find him stiffening.
Slick fingers prodded her, and she grit her teeth as the ring of muscle reluctantly rolled inward. However, this time there was little friction and no sudden sharp pain-no feeling of seemingly being split in half-leaving only that feeling of fullness that had dominated her thoughts for weeks.
"Yes, just like that," she coaxed. "Now give the real thing."
He obeyed and she cried out as he slowly began to bury himself into her-
-then stopped.
"I swear to God Kaji, if you keep teasing me I'll slap-"
"-I-It's not that…" his head strayed to the side. "She's watching us."
Misato turned, and through the gloom was confronted by the smiling visage of one Inspector Sohryu. Standing proudly over a picturesque landscape, the woman continued to grin at Misato, as if whole heartedly endorsing what was going down.
A uneasy chill ran up Misato's spine at the thought of having their intimacy being watched, even by picture.
But I'm here and you aren't.
"Let her watch," she declared. "Just keep your eyes on me."
He withdrew a bit, then slowly pushed forward, and blessedly didn't stop until he was fully sheathed.
Misato cupped Kaji's face and watched as the lingering resistance melted away into ecstasy.
"Besides, I'm sure she can keep a secret."