New Perspective Evangelion
I don't own NGE someone else does.
A lot of stuff might be mentioned that's copyright
I don't own it either
It's only for fun anyways
I...I
Tokyo-2 was everything I expected it to be, and more, the glittering nude glass cages of the new city towering up to one hundred stories and more above me. Even in daylight, it seemed as if the only light at street level was coming from the myriad of neon signs advertising as many different products and services as there were people crossing the streets.
There was a bustle about the place that the third Tokyo lacked, the streets of the second city being black with hurrying business people, shoppers, and nest of otaku who eyed me up, all rushing to get to wherever they needed to go.
There was an electrical, almost cyberpunk air to the place and I found myself expecting BMW mounted biker gangs rushing around the corner chasing the city winds, or scanning the duck-egg skies for Knight-Sabres darting overhead.
I nearly fell over backwards onto my ass.
"Don't get lost Noriko," Kaji called after me, himself and Asuka having gotten slightly ahead of me. "You don't know the city, you'd never be found."
To show how serious he was, he spoke in my own language.
"I'm okay!" I shouted back to him. "Just watching something is all."
What I was watching, was a giant screen showing Neo-Tokyo-2 being selected as the host city for the 2020 Olympics.
I think.
It certainly looked like that anyway.
The Olympics segued into an advertisement for a type of dog food, or for McDonalds, I honestly couldn't tell the difference. Beneath it, rolling across a building façade was GUINNESS, and a train of katakana that announced the black stuff's availability and robustness of character. It made me think of home for a moment.
"Pay Attention Noriko or go back to the car!"
Huh... Oh right...
"Sorry!"
I dashed up to join the two lovebirds. From the way she was clinging onto his arm, I was sure that was the picture Asuka had in her mind of their relationship.
"I'm so glad to be on this shopping trip with you, Kaji,"she chirped sunnily.
He was asking himself why he'd ever agreed to do it. I could see it on the man's face; it was a look I'd worn many times myself. He was asking himself why he'd ever agreed to bring two teenage girls on a shopping trip. He was worrying what sort of critical hit his wallet would take. He was trying to remember his bank's phone number, so he could beg the manager for an overdraft.
"It's no problem Asuka," he said eventually.
I groaned and scratched my back, looked up at the looming government tower, with it's fifty story pendulum clock, then at Kaji.
I didn't answer, I just jogged up, keeping my distance from the pair.
Kaji scared me, and I had no idea why. He seemed polite to a tee, well mannered and generous, but some instinct forced me to keep my distance.
"This one Kaji," the Second Child tugged on his sleeve. "They have a sale on swimsuits in here."
Swimsuits?...joy.
"Alright Asuka," the man said. "Just be sensible."
I followed the two of them in, more curious about what I might find inside, than worried.
A department store, what else? My minds voice answered deadpan. They couldn't really be too different the world over, could they?
They all smelled the same, a mix of stale perfume and dry clothes. They were all slightly too warm to be comfortable. And they were all full with chattering hordes discussing fibre-counts and last night's Big Brother eviction.
As long as the Second Children didn't expect me to have to try on any swimwear, I could deal with this. I could get in there, then get out with what I wanted and maybe along with some stuff I didn't.
"Noriko!" Asuka called me. "Have a look at this! It really suits me, doesn't it?"
And so, it started. My intrepid companion was already sizing up a ladybug patterned dress against herself.
"Well?"
"Looks nice," I said.
Asking me for advice on fashion was like asking an Amish man for advice on computer upgrades.
"It sure does," she said, "And this one too, this one's green, it'll suit you perfectly."
She dropped the dress into my arms. It looked like something rejected from the Rozen Maiden production wardrobe.
"I'll try it,"
There was a nervous quiver in my voice as I said that. She was Asuka of Borg. Resistance was futile. The pattern was set for the day.
I followed my companion, generally picking whatever I needed, then having whatever the Second decided would suit me thrust into my arms when my own opinions were deemed too conservative or too tomboyish.
About the only thing the both of us could agree on was a nice satin pair of pyjamas I dug out. They may have been purple and femine, but they were so soft and comfortable I didn't care.
I settled into a routine, listening to Asuka gossip about various things, most of which I didn't really understand, or care about. But still, I could begin to enjoy her company, I could at least understand the whole 'shopping' thing now.
I had fun.
Somehow.
I guess it was something genetic. Perhaps the bar-stool scientists were right, the instinct to shop was a part of the female genome.
And, admittedly, I did look good in shorts, but not in much else. Thankfully, even Asuka had to admit, pink was not my colour.
One thing though, that sent chills down my spine, and it wasn't think pink lace underwear.
Okay, it wasn't only the pink lace underwear.
It was Kaji.
He stared at me, or perhaps, right trough me, like I was a half visible shell-ghost of someone a long time dead. It didn't matter what tone of voice he used, what expression was worn on his face, that look from his eyes remained the same.
It was a hard look, like two imaginary laser beams were being shone from his eyes, cutting Goldfinger-like through to a persons soul, weighed down by the want of a good night's rest.
No, not from a lack of sleep, it was more than that. It seemed almost like his very character was fatigued and worn, like a new car's engine being run without oil.
Every instinct in my body screamed that he was a 'dirty person', for want of a better description, and that he had to be avoided at all costs.
And then, there was himself and Misato...
And Asuka.
What could she see in him?
Why was she so desperate for his attention, and not anyone her own age?
"Kaji, look at this!" Asuka called out. "It's perfect or diving in Okinawa,"
Asuka was holding a lighthouse striped Bikini set, the red and white bands seeming to bulge the cups out more than they actually did.
I had a rather embarrassing mental picture of myself wearing it for a moment.
"Aren't you a little young,"
"I'm thirteen." she announced, "And I have an adult body, so why shouldn't I wear adult clothes?"
She leaned forward, revealing just enough of her 'adult' chest to dare Kaji to say otherwise.
It was shameful, I thought self consciously. I would never do that. But, I did have breasts too, should I be a bit more...adventurous?
"Fine," Kaji relented, with a slight roll of his eyes. "It's your money, do what you want."
I thought to myself that, through all Asuka's bluster, if one knew where to look, one could really see how vulnerable she was beneath.
I felt guilty because I was able to see it. It seemed elicit somehow, a psychological version of peeping through the keyhole of the girls locker room.
But, one question finally needed answering.
"Asuka, will this suit me, do you think?"
I'd chosen a comfortable looking yellow one-piece affair. It didn't look too racy, was almost wetsuit substantial, and reminded me of my plugsuit somewhat.
She eyed it for a second, like a butcher would eye an innocent lamb.
"Hmmmm, it's fine, if a little nineteen-eighties. Yellow is a good colour for you though. But you'll never get a decent sun-tan wearing something like that. It's also pretty plain, but that's what you want right?"
"Yup," I nodded cheerfully.
I didn't want people staring at me.
"Of course, these are available on offer two for one," she dangled a yellow version of what she had in front of me.
I had to resist. I had to find some way to say 'no' to her. But then, I didn't want to offend her by refusing, and it was cheaper than buying two different ones.
That reminded me.
"How do we pay for all this anyway?"
"Use your I.D. Card," Kaji told me. "The company will handle anything reasonable."
Sohryu blinked owlishly for a second, perhaps not knowing herself.
"Well then," I smiled at her, suddenly seeing my way out. "Could I get both?"
"Get me a red one of what you've got then, that'd be good if the water was a little cold."
Kaji just rolled his eyes, perhaps wondering why he'd thought revealing the fact that the pair of us had a practically unlimited amount of money at our disposal had been a good idea.
I laughed. It felt good to get one over on him, even if, in reality, we probably really hadn't.
My companion had a devious, lustful look in her eyes, looking over to the expensive, exclusive designer section. Already, I was greedily deciding on a new laptop computer, a new Walkman and maybe whatever model Playstation happened to be available.
What? I'm a Sony fanboy, okay?
"Anything reasonable," repeated Kaji.
Oh, it was reasonable. To us anyway it was.
"Oh Kaji," Asuka chirruped with new glee, "Why don't we go for ice-cream when we're finished then,"
But that wouldn't be for some time. Not that I minded of course
I...I
I was on a train, sitting by a window, watching sunset orange countryside drifting past. It was a peaceful place, the distant diesel thrum of the locomotives engine tingling at the base of my spine, serving as a soothing mechanical lullaby.
I could've fallen asleep, if somebody hadn't sat down beside me.
"Good day," she intoned.
I looked at her, almost an exact doppelgänger for Rei. She had the same blood coloured eyes, that same pallid, vampiric skin. The only difference I could see was her long, full, pink tinted hair, that ran down below her shoulders.
And, the fact that she was wearing a yellow cardigan and grey industrial wool skirt, just like the school uniform Rei wore in the alternate episode 26.
I just nodded a response.
I had this awful feeling. I knew exactly what she was, if not who she was.
"Angel?" I questioned
I was answered only with knowing smile.
"You know who I am, but do you know who you are yourself?" the Angel asked.
"I..." I thought for a second, not quite sure what she meant. "I am.."
"Before you answer, look at the reflection in the window,"
Her smile mutated into some horrible grin, that lacked any sort of human emotional backing. The sort of cooling grin that you'd imagine Charles Whitman was wearing as he reloaded.
It compelled me to act.
Looking back at me, reflected, was the face of a brown eyed fourteen year old girl, her straight dark hair rolling down the side of my head, then splashing off her shoulders
"See, your own self image is not what you expected, was it?."
"No..." I gulped, touching my soft cheek, just to be certain.
"Is it not common belief among humans, that if a heart were to be transplanted, some of the memories of the donor would be received along with it? It is the seat of all human feeling, yes?"
"I suppose,"
I knew where this is going. Like standing at the front of a runaway train, watching the 'Bridge Out' signs rapidly approaching. It was that same feeling of impending, gut wrenching doom.
"From your perspective, you have received a life transplant, that is how you would best understand it. Do you?"
"I guess so."
I had been given Noriko's life, right?
"It is within my power to restore your life, to return what was taken from you. You could be yourself again. In exchange, I would only ask you to do one favour, and I will grant you this wish."
My heart leapt. I could go home!
I could wake up sleeping in my own bed. A deal with the devil would see me home and dry. Of course, I was under no naïve illusion that that is exactly what this would be.
The Angel seemed to sense what I was thinking.
"You want proof of my 'ability', yes? Then just take my hand, and I'll show you some of what I can do for you."
Her tongue lapped against her lips, like the serpent offering Eve the apple.
This was wrong... this was stupid...this was my only way home.
I slowly swallowed any fear, telling myself I was taking my first steps home, then cautiously gripped her hand.
Immediately, my consciousness was assaulted by a penetrating shotgun blast of thought and imagery. I tried to snatch my hand back from this female John Coffey, but she already had me in her grasp.
The next thing I was aware of was the smell of oiled pine floor.
It was night, and I was standing on the balcony at home, looking at the lights of the new city built around the bay. Only a pair of red navigation lights atop a rotting pair of old power station chimneys far out to sea testified towards the existence of an entire city beneath the waves.
An entire world down there, frozen at midday on September 15th 2001, when the rising seas finally overwhelmed Dublin City. I thought it was kind of cool, very Nadia-ish.
I think I was ten at the time.
My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden scream, followed by a hollow thud as something hit the floor.
My father was shouting, he was roaring at something, or someone downstair. He was roaring in Japanese, which I thought strange. He would always insist on speaking the 'native tongue', to better assimilate into the culture.
Curiously, quietly, I slipped downstairs to see what was going on, my stockinged feet sliding on the mirror polished pine staircase.
"What do you expect me to do?" I heard. "I mean, how long did you two...?"
I heard a mumbled, sobbed response, before my father cut it off.
"Ten Years ago, that's before she was born. She mightn't even be my daughter!"
Where they talking about me?
Next, I could hear my mother's voice, stuttering and gasped as she tried to control herself.
"She is your child. Look at her eyes...her hair... you know she's yours,"
"And not that American fucker's?"
It was rare for my father to swear. He considered it vulgar and disgusting, beneath a true gentleman.
"No," My mother said in a whining, almost pleading voice.
Silence, like a bad soap opera.
"I need to calm down." My father said, his voice taking a hard, controlled formal tone, like that time I spilled coffee on his blueprints. "For striking you then, I apologise. It was unacceptable. I shall return in three hours, if not before then."
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I watched my father slip past, his footsteps as heavy and as grave as the look on his face. I think, I saw a tear dripping down his cheek, before he solemnly put on his grey work-suit jacket. He creaked the hall door open, being deliberately quiet in his actions, before drawing it shut with barely a brass 'tick'.
I was curious still, and now a little confused. It was eerie. I was left with a sudden feeling in the pit of my stomach that I may have been the cause of everything.
My mother was sitting, slumped over the kitchen table, crying softly to herself as she nursed a red lump on her forehead. Some of the white melamine cabinets where tossed open, and the floor was littered with the mortal remains of several broken plates.
"What happened?" I questioned quietly.
She coughed and sobbed, before looking at me through tear reddened eyes. She coughed once more, then hiccuped, before speaking slowly, between sobs. She struggled to smile at me.
"It's okay honey," she said. "It's just," she sniffed, "It's just...I did something terrible to your father... I'm sorry... things will be okay,"
I wanted to say something more, but I felt myself suddenly being torn away from the scene, my mothers tear stained face receding into harsh, bright light as the scene was crushed beneath the hammerforce weight of my true identity crashing through the wall.
I blinked, swallowed a quick, panicked gasp of dry air, my mind cartwheeling as it tried to understand who and what it really was.
I wasn't the five year old girl who's parents had been fighting, I was the twenty year old man who was just living her life...for a bit. I was...I was...myself.
I think.
A lump caught in my throat, and I couldn't speak. It was then, I heard a sickly familiar voice.
"Tabris!" it spat. It could almost have passed for hatred.
I blinked, and looked up into another set of blood red eyes, another one of those inhumanely detached Revy grins. Kawaoru Nagisa, was holding my hand, and the Angel's, apart.
She was hissing at him like a cornered cat.
"This wasn't in the agreed terms, Sister," Kawaoru said in that sickly warm voice of his. "No interference, beyond the natural course of events, remember."
And still, he grinned that repulsive grin of his.
I still couldn't speak. I wanted to scream at them, to barge past the angelic duo and make a bid for freedom...to get away from these two monsters playing God with my life.
I knew it was my life they were discussing.
I wasn't angry.
I was terrified. They might have more planned for me.
God fucking Christ what was going on?
I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I couldn't wake up from this God forsaken nightmare and just be myself again.
The female Angel turned to face me one final time, still grinning her psychopathic grin, her eyes mutating into blood red pits of despair. She said one last thing to me, one sentence that burned itself into my memory.
"If that is so, then I will look forward to meeting you in person soon enough, Lilith's Child."
Nagisa nodded, and released my hand.
Instantly I screamed my freedom from the nightmare, jumping up in my bed, swallowing great gulps of hot, sweaty night air. It was dark, I couldn't see where I was.
I hoped I was home.
I hoped it was my own room.
I dared hope it was my own life.
"Mama," Asuka murmured to herself beside me, he sheets shuffling as she rolled over once more.
In that instant, I hated her for dragging me back to what passed for reality.
But, I would gladly live the rest of my life as this girl, if I could never have another nightmare like that.
I hoped it was just a nightmare.
The new pyjamas were comfortable.
I...I
Thursday
The agonizer test the day before had more than lived up to its name. Despite being given the day off to recuperate, I still felt like I'd had a fight with a truck, and lost spectacularly.
The agonizer, officially known as The External Stimulus Control Endurance Test, was designed to test a Pilot's ability keep their concentration under ' extreme mental feedback stress.' Basically, I had to sit in an entry plug and play a simple videogame, guiding a spaceship through a tunnel, while being put through devious tortures that would've horrified the Inquisition.
I was drowned, shot, shot again, burned, crushed, had my arm/leg/back/neck wrenched apart repeatedly, boiled, dissolved in acid, had every bone in my body smashed and brought to the edge of death and back again. They stopped my heart for three minutes at one stage.
Barely able to stand afterwards, I had to be lifted from the simulator onto a trolley, where the evil Akagi'd only said "You've passed, Good Job. Take tomorrow off."
I wanted to tell her the colourful places where she could stuff her day off, but instead, I just puked up a disgusting chummy mixture of LCL and curry onto her pristine white labcoat when I tried to speak.
Then puked again when I smelled it.
I considered it ample repayment.
Misato was nicer. Waiting for me back at the apartment was the tantalising prospect of a litre tub of chocolate icecream gathering frost in the fridge.
"Alcohol and icecream heal all wounds," She'd advised sagely.
And when I returned, I decided I would have to try it.
I still wasn't sure what impulse had possessed me to do it, I had been given a day off to recuperate and rest, but I'd found myself gripped by some strange compulsion to keep up my training.
Perhaps, it was my minds way of keeping itself occupied, so it wouldn't have to dwell on dreams of Angels and demons, or perhaps it was a fragment of Noriko herself that demanded her body be kept in good condition while I borrowed it.
Either way, I marvelled at my new-found fitness. In only two weeks, my strength had built considerably.
I'd already run three miles that morning, and barely felt the stress any more. My old self would have been wheezing and out of breath by the end of the first block.
It was rock splittingly hot though.
The surface sun was relentless, it was something the Geofront tended to be sheltered from, and the humidity sucked the sweat out of my body, leaving my clothes soaking wet. I'd already taken my t-shirt off and tied tied it round my waist, leaving only a yellow training togs to cover my modesty.
I wasn't too bothered.
At ten in the morning, the Eva-width streets of Tokyo-3 were a concrete ghost town, the brutalist grey buildings of the fortress city.
Except only, for the green shrubbery of Tokyo-3 Municipal Park West, which ran parallel to the path. A crystal blue lake sat in the middle, above a six inch thick pane of glass, acting is a liquid window to the geofront below.
I thought it looked cool... literally.
But swimming in a foot deep pond would be difficult, unfortunately.
Wide streets and a midday sun meant no shadows, just a slow solar roast, and the start of a gentle sunburn tingle on my face.
There had to be a cream for it.
A yellow DHL van rumbled past, stopping at traffic lights for a moment, before turning off down a sidestreet, a road I knew led to the Katsuragi apartment, and a goods yard.
Maybe, it was the stuff myself and Asuka had ordered?
I was finally going to get that laptop!
I watched it hawkishly for a second, waiting for it to make one last turn. When it did, I fell flat on my face.
Rough, dirty concrete bit and tugged at my arms as I landed in a heap on the footpath. Half groaning, half grimacing, and a little annoyed, I wondered just what could have knocked the legs out from under me.
"Uh...Gomen Nasai," A voice stuttered.
Uh.. language... name... Shinji?
I was still trying to work out which way up I was, never mind who was talking, or what they were saying to me. I scratched around for a second, then rolled over onto my back, looking up at the blue sky, framed by armaments building 24(Pallet Rifle x3) and an empty office building.
"Are you okay?"
A face eclipsed the sun, envy-green eyes blinking curiously at me from behind bottle-bottom lenses.
"Aida Kensuke?" I mumbled.
It looked like him.
I don't know what he said next, but, judging by the hand offered to me, he wanted to help me up. He had greasy, sweaty, gamers hands from holding onto a plastic controller for a few hours too long.
There was something that felt...dirty about it, and I wiped my own hand clean on my shorts as soon as I was on my feet.
There was a moment of silence, while I tried to work out what I was supposed to do, or what had happened.
Kensuke Aida was standing there, liberally drizzled with green leaves, some knotted into his hair messily like some urban survivalist in a school uniform.
A camera was on the ground at his feet.
His face blanched to match his shirt.
"Uh..."
His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish stranded on a beach, as he searched for something he could say.
"Um...Thank You," I said.
It was only then that I remembered Asuka's advice from a week or so earlier. Don't talk to them, she'd said. Let them know who's boss if you do, she'd told me.
Yeah, and I couldn't even speak or work out what to say.
Kensuke could've almost been in the the same state, looking over his shoulder like he was expecting the cavalry to come rushing to his rescue, galloping across the park to drag him from this socially awkward situation.
The two of us stood there looking at each other like a pair of lost orphans, both of us waiting for something to happen, for someone to come along and break the deadlock.
He gulped, swallowed his fear, then slowly bent down picked up his camera. He picked it up in a slow, deliberate way, trying not to draw attention to it, yet doing exactly that.
I watched his gaze work it's way up my leg, past my midriff, then stopping somewhere before my neck.
Ugh...
Serves me right for wearing my t-shirt around my waist.
"What...happened?" I finally questioned.
His eyes locked with mine.
Then he smirked.
"Picture?" Aida brought the camera to his face.
Huh?
"Em...sure."
I couldn't say no. It wouldn't have been polite. Japan was all about being polite and helpful.
"Say cheese!" said Kensuke, focusing in on me.
"Cheese!" I grinned as best I could.
The rapid fire shutter clicks made it feel like I was stuck in an open air magazine shoot, the fair haired army fanboy taking little time to snap a picture, then refocus, and snap again.
"Thank you Noriko-chan!" he chirruped gleefully, wearing a self satisfied grin of the kind you'd probably wear after you'd stolen the British Crown Jewels from off the queens head without her even noticing.
As he ran off, a dark Fila tracksuited figure popped up like a prairie dog from the hedge to ask a question.
Aida answered with an exuberant "Yatta!", before the pair returned to their foliage foxhole.
I was left standing there, with the distinct impression that the wool had been well and truly pulled over my eyes.
Bollocks.
I...I
By the time I'd reached the apartment, I'd resolved never to tell Asuka about my encounter. It wasn't out of loyalty to my former gender either.
I'd been betrayed by them.
I'd stood up for them.
And then they'd gone and proven everything Asuka had told me about them had been correct.
That, and I just didn't want to hear Asuka say 'I told you so.'
What they had been doing in the hedge had become painfully obvious to me. What they were going to do with the pictures afterwards was also.
I resolved to wash my hands before I had anything to eat.
I caught a glimpse of the blurred reflection of my 'physique' in the polished steel of the apartment door before it opened.
Just when I'd thought I was beginning to get a foothold in my new life, it had been kindly demonstrated to me that I still had a long way to go.
I sighed a tired sigh, scratched my leg, then slipped out of my running shoes.
"I'm home,"
"Welcome home," Shinji's voice answered.
He was wearing a housewive's green apron, standing over a pot of boiling stock, merrily chopping carrots into it.
"Oh, hey Noriko, there was a delivery for you, it's on the table."
I took a moment to translate that, my flatmate returning to his cooking by the time I did.
The stuff I'd ordered, it had to be!
A single square brown cardboard box was sitting on the kitchen table, tantalising taped shut, with and address label stuck to it.
But there was only one...
I'd ordered more stuff than that.
Unless they'd just put it all in the one box to save on shipping.
"Sweet!" I lept forward, forgetting all about Aida and his stolen photography session. The promise of clean, factory fresh electronics lured me forward.
But then, I paused.
There was an envelope taped to the box, addressed to me.
Curious, and wondering why they'd send me a letter, I tore it free. Maybe the reason there was only one box was because NERV had decided there were some things they weren't going to pay for.
Tentatively, I opened it, expecting the traditional, condescending 'Sorry but your order could not be fully processed due to insufficient funds' line that told you exactly how much contempt the company now had for you.
What was inside, was a crisp, printed letter, with the eye-like logo of Oceanic Airlines stamped in the corner.
For a moment, it was utterly disappointing. It wasn't what I'd ordered, it was just some pointless letter from..the...airline.
My thoughts trailed off as I finally realised what I was holding.
A letter from the company that had operated flight 214.
I read it.
Ms Nagato,
Please allow me to first extend my heartfelt sympathies to you for your loss. The crash of flight 214 was a great tragedy. I was gladdened to be told of your recent recovery, a small ray of light from an otherwise dark event.
At this time, the cause of the accident had yet to be fully determined and an official report from the Japanese ARAIC remains several months away at best. A copy will be made available to you at that time. Any legal issues will also be settled once the report has been completed.
During the wreckage recovery operation, some personal belongings of yours and your father's were found. It is the policy of this airline to return these effects to their rightful owners, once they have been cleared by the proper authorities. It is my sincere hope that these items can be of some comfort to you in your time of grief.
Regards.
Micheal Spinnaker
CEO Oceanic Airlines International
I held it it in my hand for a moment, not quite sure what I was supposed to do or think about it. It just left me cold somehow.
"Uh...Is it bad news?" A voice snapped me out of it, unsure if it should even be intruding. The chopping behind me had stopped.
"No," I said.
That was all I wanted to say.
"Sorry."
The chopping resumed, each slice of the knife timing out my heartbeat. I set the letter down on the table. The box just sat there, the little dark handholds like eyes staring at me.
I wasn't sure if I had the right to even touch it.
Inside that box were the close personal items of another person, two even, people who were now dead.
I sat down, and stared back at it.
It was...unsettling to be that close to Noriko, as she had been. I found my thoughts slowly drifting back towards that nightmare a few nights earlier.
What was it? A life transplant?
I didn't understand it, I didn't want to think about it. I didn't even know if it had been something real, an invasion of my dreams to tell me something important, or just a figment conjured by too much cheesy chips and curry sauce.
And still, it sat there, staring at me, a cardboard Pandora's box daring me to just lean forward and open it.
I couldn't just ignore it either, and hide it somewhere. The secrets inside it would be freed eventually, either by myself, or by accident.
Shinji was washing the rice. Pen-Pen waddled out to the bathroom, green eyes glancing up curiously at me for a second, before he continued on his way.
Screw it.
Opening it wouldn't kill me.
I lunged forward and ripped the tape off, taking lump of the lid with me. It flopped open limply revealing nothing but a sea of packing foam.
Already, it felt like I was nothing but a grave robber, violating the sacred ground of the dead. But it was too late to turn back. Pandora's box had been opened, and the tape would no longer stick it closed again.
The first thing I found was cold and metallic, a Tag Heuer watch with a cracked and scorched face. The strap was much to big for my arm. It must've been Noriko's fathers.
With a strange reverence, I placed it on the table. I didn't know exactly why, but I knew it deserved careful treatment.
I reached in again, and grabbed something large and fluffy, a tan fur teddy bear with brown beads for eyes, and a red jacket with 'baseball' printed on it. It was good to see it. It seemed so loveable and warm, I wanted to cuddle it soothingly against myself, to let all my potential sorrows and worries be drawn away by the stuffed animal.
The third object, was metallic and heavy, but not a watch. It was a small, stainless steel bracelet. It must've once been polished to a high shine, but now, it was blued and browned in places by intense heat and flame.
It also had my name engraved on a little tag welded to it.
It was the most precious thing, worth more to me than it's weight in gold. I didn't know why or what it even was, just that it was the most special thing in the world to me.
And that it belonged on my left wrist.
It felt absolutely right to have it there.
Quickly, I wrapped it around and snapped the clasp shut, before flicking my wrist to to hear it click merrily. I smiled at it.
Finally, I found a pair of water damaged passports inside a plastic bag. They reeked so much of jet-fuel when I opened it, the smell nearly made me sick. Inside the first, was a picture of myself, smiling brightly back at me.
Well, it wasn't myself, it was her. Not me.
The second, had belonged to my father. I could see the pride and dignity in the man staring back at me. I could feel him, like I could reach out and touch him if I tried.
I could...
I could...
I sniffed, feeling hot tears well up in my eyes. No, this wasn't right , this wasn't right at all. I could remember him. A fleeting glimpse only of the man he was, of him slipping past me once, before he left through a door.
I remembered his heavy, powerful arm was holding me, soothing me as the plane went down. I could feel it still, a ghost across my back, cold now with absence.
And then, that was it.
It was gone.
I was back in the Katsuragi kitchen, swallowing a lump in my throat. I blinked and ssqueaked, forcing back a whimper. I could feel somebody watching me, a pair of curious eyes running like insects up my back.
The cooking sounds had stopped, save for a simmering hiss of the pot.
Great, now I had an audience.
Quickly, and self consciously, I dumped both passports back into their bags, and put them out of sight.
Out of sight, out of mind they said.
"Are you okay?" Shinji asked.
How long had it taken him to pluck up the courage to speak? I wondered.
"Yes," I said, my tone of voice betraying the strained truth. "Just...stuff."
That was the best I could articulate myself. There was no other way I could say it, not in Japanese anyway.
I closed my eyes for a second and rubbed them dry. I took a few deep breaths, then sighed as I leant back on the wooden chair.
The cooking started again. The box still stared at me, gloatingly as if it had won. I didn't dare see what else was in there
Quietly, I slipped everything back into the box, then covered them with a few nuggets of packing foam. I closed the lid, and forced down when it sprung back a little.
I left it there for a bit, while I washed and changed. The more I thought about it, the more I could remember what had been said to me.
It made sense then, that I would have some of Noriko's memory's somewhere, after all, I hadn't just had a heart transplant, it had practically been a whole body transplant, right down to the smallest neurons.
I'd read somewhere once, that memory's could be encoded into a persons RNA. All that would be needed to unlock that chemical cipher, would be the right key.
What I'd left in that box, was going to be put away for good.
Misato was right though, chocolate ice-cream did make me feel better.
I...I
Friday Morning
Asuka was awake before me, which I found strange. By the time I'd groggily slogged my way out the bedroom door, she was already sitting at the breakfast table, with the phone against her ear, and a pair of plastic suitcases on the ground beside her.
She was speaking in German to it.
A phone call to home perhaps?
Whatever she was saying, she sounded like someone who'd taken more Prozac than could probably be considered healthy. For some reason, her voice seemed to be bubbling with saccharine excitement.
"Guten Nacht Mama," she chirped, the black box phone bleeping as she disconnected the call.
"Guten Morgen Noriko, Das is...," she trailed off for a moment, "Good morning Noriko," she announced with an affirmative tone.
"Morning Asuka," I chuckled lightly.
I wasn't the only one having language troubles
"What's got you up so early anyway?" I questioned,
"The school trip to Okinawa," she answered, "Of course, you have to be attending school to go,"
I just didn't have the heart to tell her.
I...I
John Locke being CEO was a little rich… however in my defence…at the time, I hadn't learned subtlety. I changed the name, but not the airline… Oceanic is a pretty common 'generic disaster airline' name, and predates Lost by quite a bit. Executive decision I think, is the first movie with it.
-Dartz