Chapter 3: Shinji
Father's spoon clattered on the side of his plate as he scooped his first spoonful of Yorkshire pudding. He raised it to his lips and chewed slowly, sucking every last drop of flavor out of it. I mentally leafed through the ingredients. Had I remembered all four eggs? I thought so, but…
Maybe it was the "pinch" of salt. I mean, what's a pinch? Did I put in too much? Too little? And I knew I should've used lard instead of vegetable oil…
"Fine," he grunted.
I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
"Glad you like it, Father."
He sat back and tapped his gloved hand on the leather arm of his chair. A breeze whistled through the sliding door; images of the Geofront reflected off the glass. The giant slashes in the ceiling shone like yellow spotlights on Tokyo-3. Father's city, I thought. My city. The realization struck me for the thousandth time that my childhood home was entering its twilight.
Father swirled port around in his glass. I took this as a good sign.
"Sir, about Rei…"
His hand stopped moving. Even through his purple glasses, I could see his eyes narrow.
"What about Rei?" he demanded.
I shrugged and looked back at the view from the window. I saw my nervous reflection as I scratched the back of my head. He saw it too.
"I…Never mind, Father. I'm sorry."
He craned his head forward and rested it on his elbows. "The Look", I called it. It used to give me shivers as a kid. Still did.
"What about Rei?" he repeated.
"Sir, I just thought…"
Please don't make me go through this, Father…
"Spit it out, boy," he said.
"She doesn't seem very…happy," I said carefully.
His expression didn't change an iota.
"Is she supposed to?" he said.
"No, Sir, but—"
"Then don't waste my time."
My gaze fell. I noticed a stain on my jeans. It was no use, though; I could feel his eyes bore into me from across the table. He knew I was keeping something from him. He always knew. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered more insistently as each moment passed.
"I just wish there was another way," I blurted out.
I heard his leather gloves constrict as his fists tensed.
Oh, crap…
"You want to abandon your mother?" he said. "Is that it?"
"No! It's just…"
He bolted upright from the table. His face didn't reflect any anger. It was as cold as ever--a dangerous sign. I'd learned to recognize it from long experience.
"Perhaps you've forgotten why I decided to take you back years ago," he said.
My voice, which I'd intended to sound confident, came out as a tiny squeak.
"I remember, Father."
He walked to my side of the table. I counted the steps—five, and another on the carpet. Rough hands grabbed my chin and forced it toward the sunset. My entire body tensed. I begged my neck to stay loose so he didn't think I was fighting him.
"You want to look away?" he said. "Go ahead. Look. What do you see?"
"I…Father, I'm—I'm sorry, but I don't—"
"What do you see?"
My voice rose an octave.
"Tok—Tokyo-3, I guess!"
He released my cheek. I felt the blood pulsing under my skin where he'd grabbed me.
"Wrong," he said. "You see Japan. And what have I told you about Japan? Eh?"
"Japan ends the minute the Britannians think the Angels are gone," I recited.
He patted my cheek in that 'good boy, Shinji' way I always hated. And needed.
"Correct at last," he said.
"But Rei—" I began.
His open hand struck my cheek a lot harder. I felt a shock of pain, followed by warmth in my face and ears. I sniffled and felt even more pathetic.
"You're here to save your mother," he said. "Not that Angel halfbreed you've set your incestuous little eyes on."
My jaw dropped. Whatever I'd been planning to say whimpered and died before it left my mouth.
"Father, I've known Rei for years—"
"—and never showed interest in her before she started growing breasts," he said with a sneer. "Please spare me your excuses."
Or maybe I just never had the guts to comment before, a voice in my head muttered.
What a coincidence! another voice replied. I still don't have the guts.
My father threaded his white gloves together behind his back and turned to watch the sunset. His purple NERV jacket seemed to turn black as the light silhouetted it. He scratched under his cufflinks at the burn scars that had never quite healed right and pointed at a spot next to him on the carpet.
"Come," he said.
I shuffled beside him. He rested a hand on my shoulder, and his voice assumed a conciliatory tone.
"I prevented the Britannians from taking you away because I needed you, Shinji. Your mother needs you too. Very well: you're lonely. I was too at your age. After Third Impact, you'll meet your mother again and forget all about the loneliness."
I sighed.
"Yes, Sir."
"..And that's why I need you to keep a close eye on the other pilots. That Britannian prince is up to something with Rei."
As he said "Rei", a low growl escaped his throat. His fingers tightened painfully around my shoulder. When I think back to my childhood, my father's fingers stand near the top of my list of memories. They always seemed strong enough to tear sheet rock. I winced. He seemed confused for a second, then looked down at me and released my shoulder.
This was the extent of his apology.
"Y…Yes, Sir," I said. "I'll keep you informed."
He ruffled my hair.
"I saw your battle against the sixth Angel," he said.
"I'm sorry, Sir. The Type-B equipment didn't work underwater, so we had to—"
"You did well," he said.
"I…I mean…um…Thank you."
I beamed. His words massaged the pain out of my throbbing shoulder. Come to think of it, they gave me the warm, fuzzy feeling that I'm told most kids get from hanging out with girls, or friends. Not that I'd know.
"Wipe your eyes," he said. "It's pathetic when a man cries."
"Yes, Sir."
Asuka Langley Sohryu.
As in:
The Great Asuka Langley Sohryu
Asuka, the Untouchable Goddess of Battle
Asuka, The Fourteen-Year Old Supermodel Who Wouldn't Let Me Near Her
Asuka, The Girl In A Catsuit
The fourth description only made the third all the more painful for me.
"Aaaaaand we're READY!" Milly shouted.
I looked at Ashford's ninth grade class as it took its marks on the starting line. I wondered for the tenth time in as many seconds how I'd gotten into this. A dozen girls in cat suits gritted their teeth and dug in their heels. A dozen guys in Count Dracula outfits sat in little red wagons behind them. I was among them.
And before you ask: No, it wasn't Halloween. It was Ashford.
Rei stared morosely at the finish line ahead, completely oblivious to the drooling looks of admiration her panther costume drew from the ninth grade boys. Princess Nunnally giggled and waved at me. Her smile made the painted black whiskers on her cheeks perk up. A brown-haired Britannian kid sat in the wagon behind her. Every so often, he cast stealthy glances at Lelouch. When he saw me watching him, he glared until I looked away. His eyes were a weird shade of purple.
Asuka muttered something about the link between inbreeding and insanity in noble families, about how a certain class president was setting the women's movement back fifty years, about how ridiculous she looked in her costume because it wasn't properly fitted for an elite pilot like herself, about how heavy I was, about how she'd never—never —debase herself by pulling me, and how—
BANG!
Maybe it's my cynical memory playing tricks on me, but I could swear Asuka took off a split second before Milly fired the starter's pistol. The jolt nearly threw me out of the wagon. It keeled and gyrated as Asuka weaved around the girls in front of us. Her shoes kicked gravel everywhere and raised a cloud that left half of our competitors choking on dust.
Something tells me that this wasn't accidental.
"Outta my way, Hikari!" she shouted.
"But—"
The Class Rep barely had time to let out a mild-mannered "EEP!" before Asuka barreled past her. Probably for luck, she slammed my wagon into Toji's as she passed. Hikari lost her grip, and the wagon careened off the road. Toji crashed into a tree.
"Stinking gaijin ginger!" he shouted
"Save it, dumbass!" Asuka crowed. "I've got a race to win!"
"What about the women's movement and never pulling me in a million—"
"Shut up, Ikari."
I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and shut up. We were only a few seconds away from the finish line now.
The fastest streak of black nylon that I'd ever seen rocketed past us, accompanied by a mischievous "Teehee!" Asuka screamed in frustration and redoubled her pace. The girl was ahead of us now, but she was close. Maybe she'd tire. Maybe she'd…
…get an extra burst of speed and arrive at the finish line ten seconds before us.
Asuka arrived a distant second. The victor jumped up and down and clapped her hands happily. When my red-headed fellow pilot crossed the finish line gasping and wheezing, the girl held out her hand.
"Wow…You're fast, Asuka!" she said. "Nobody ever gave me a challenge like that before, and I've been running for a long time..."
Asuka stared at the proffered hand as if it was made of alley sludge. Reluctantly, she brought her own hand into shaking position.
"I…um…congratulations, Princess Nunnally."
Nunnally beamed. She turned to her companion.
"Wasn't that fun, Rolo?" she said.
The Britannian boy's face had turned an interesting shade of green. He pitched out of the wagon and clutched the ground like a long-lost friend.
"Never again…never again…never again…"
Nunnally knelt and patted him on the back reassuringly…Which was fortunate, since she didn't notice the pained look that spread across Asuka's face. The Great Asuka Langley Sohryu turned away, fists balled at her sides. I debated whether to follow her. Better not, I decided. I prefer to avoid awkward situations unless I can't help it—
Rolo threw up on Nunnally's dress. I raced after Asuka.
"Um…Asuka?"
The other racers started arriving, with Milly hard on their heels. Asuka was halfway across the Ashford lawn by now. She grabbed her cat ears and dashed them to the ground, deliberately stomping on them as she passed. When I said her name, she half-turned toward me. I saw a tear in her eyes before she snapped her head forward again.
"Always second best," she muttered. "And always—always—to some stinking Britannian. Never fails, does it? There's always some genetically engineered Miststück ready to show me up—"
"Asuka, are you okay?"
She whirled around. Her tone was low, but dangerous. Kinda like Dad's when he's in one of his nastier moods.
"Shinji?" she said.
"Y-yeah?"
"Get. Away. From. Me."
And so I did.
