A/N: Before you get mad, it's all jokes.
And this was a bit darker than I'd intended. Sad humor, anyone?
'Fraid something made me have to re-upload.
Nerv: Dry Cleaning and Takeout
Stage IV: The Effect of Angry Girls upon Males Guilty of Offenses of a Certain Nature
In most scenarios where a vulnerable heroine is in dire need of rescue, the villains block all exits, and there is no way for her to fight back. A tower suffices this purpose very well, but in Detroit, there aren't too many stone-walled, buttressed castles to be found. Thus, the villains of the day must make do with whatever the ailing economy can afford to spare them. In this case, the location is a dark, dank alleyway many blocks from regions of relative safety, in the underbelly of the city where crime festered like zits on a teenager's face.
They were leering, savage beings, boys who were not yet men, men who were still boys, but certainly strong in both body and numbers. Their clothes reeked of alcohol and human stenches. One of them leaned towards the aforementioned damsel in distress.
"Shit, yo, that's one hot piece of ass," he slurred. "White as a slab of crack, and I want some, baby!"
"Ain't she that cop's daughter?" a tall boy with sharp, narrow eyes asked. "That cop that done shot my cousin?"
"She dead, man," a fat boy said. "Tyreece's brother killed that bitch. Blam! Blam! She just dropped! Yo, that was a hot shot! She had a bulletproof vest 'n' all that cop shit!"
"She—Did—Not."
It was the first time the girl spoke. Her handbag trembled, her long red hair shook.
"What the fuck?" a boy exclaimed. The thugs took a step back.
"She didn't put on her bulletproof vest," the girl said again. "Get the hell out of my way, you lowlife, and you worms."
Her eyes bore down on the gang, angrily daring them to challenge her. The staring contest continued for a few minutes, and then the boys realized that the girl had nothing but a small handbag for self-defense. Leers and switchblades popped out of fists, and somewhere, a pistol was cocked.
"Wha'cha gonna do, girl? Gonna come at us with that handbag? Gonna get shot like mommy?"
"Neither," she said. Her eyes flicked upwards, to the squat buildings around her. "You're going to regret this, you idiots."
Somewhere up there, red eyes glowed.
XXXXX
It is said that testicles and the sizes of these organs indicate strength and manliness. The author hereby intends to disagree, for testicles are fairly weak things with a bad tendency to bring their owner otherworldly pain when attacked, whereas the vagina is clearly far more durable, flexible and tactically superior, being in a less intrusive spot within the body. With this in mind, it is not surprising that a pigtailed girl was standing over a pile of young men, all of whom were lying on the ground, shattered beyond repair. Their clothes smoldered.
"Asuka-chan," she sang. "Don't go to bad places without telling me, 'kay?"
"Hi…Hikari," Asuka Soryu said in a shaken voice. "Oh…thank you, I guess."
Hikari yelped suddenly. Clouds drifted apart, revealing a bright full moon.
"Oh…you're giving up who you are already, Asuka-chan?" she asked in the same sing-song voice. "Poor girl…haven't you forgotten who we are?"
Her fist slammed into her palm. Dropping her handbag, Asuka did likewise.
"Don't forget!" Hikari Hokari snarled. Bouncing on top of the pile of thugs, she took off into the air with a flourish and a spin. Asuka glanced up, a little spooked by her speed. She looked around, but nobody was there.
"Where are you looking? I'm up here, right up here!"
Asuka's smile widened.
"Hikari!"
The girl's eyes widened with a ferocious growl.
"Answer me, Asuka!" she roared, leaping off the building she was perched on and throwing off the coat she had on.
"The school of the Undefeated of the East!"
Asuka threw back her fists and slammed her hands together.
"The winds of the kings!"
Their fists clashed at a breathtaking speed, exchanging blows without pause.
"Zenshin!"
"Keiretsu!"
"Tempa Kyuoran!"
The earth rumbled as the two fists crashed together, and a wave of flame washed through the dank alleyway.
"LOOK! DETROIT IS BURNING RED!"
XXXXX
The smell of fish covered the little shop, making it unbearable to the olfactory organs. Shinji rubbed his sore arms, the final crate of tuna having been loaded into the refrigerator, and sat on an empty box. Tomorrow, he and Rei would begin going to the local public school. Gendo had made arrangements with astonishing speed and efficiency. Loans had come from unknown sources for him to set up shop and open up in less than a week. Somebody had been clearing the paperwork and obstacles at an ungodly speed. Although thankful, Shinji was not altogether too sure of the legitimacy of the unknown beneficiary.
That was what he was thinking half an hour or so ago. Now, his head was pounding, and something was holding him against a bed frame. He blanched when he noticed that he was stark naked, and his privates were covered with some sort of wire.
"I see you are awake," someone said. Shinji strained to see, but the restraints held him back.
"It's me, Rei," the voice said. Shinji gagged.
"Rei—Rei, what the hell are you doing?"
She was dressed in a tight leather bikini, the bra making her small breasts look bigger. The bottom was incredibly tight and useless to hide a maiden's modesty. She carried a switch.
"I have found what is commonly known as 'the stash,'" she informed him. "As your sister, I am obligated to keep you on the correct path."
She swirled the whip, and slashed it across his genitals.
"This is…"
He screamed again as she brought the whip around the other way
"Onee-chan's punishment!"
XXXXX
The moon shone down on Asuka's hair, giving it a ghostly look. Silently, she and Hikari walked down the street. Passing vagabonds paid them no heed as the two girls looked on ahead.
"Asuka," Hikari began. "Aren't you going to get over…move on?"
The redhead's jaw clenched, loosened, and she shook her head.
"Not yet," she muttered.
"Is that why you didn't use what you know to defend yourself?" Hikari asked. "You could have been hurt pretty badly—"
"I promised myself that I wouldn't touch it again," Asuka cut her friend off. "What we did…in the alley…it was for friendship's sake. I mean, it's not like I did it just for you or anything…it's for…um, old time's sake."
Hikari grabbed Asuka's hand. A few drunks across the street hooted and whistled.
"But you worked so hard, and you were so good at it. Why would you give it all up?" she demanded. "Come on, you're living alone, you don't have a friend…aren't you lonely?"
"I don't need a friend!" she snapped, jerking her hand away. "I can live just fine by myself!"
"Asuka-chan…" Hikari said blankly. Her eyes moistened. "What…happened yo you?"
"You know what happened," Asuka said coldly. "You know exactly what happened."
Hikari nodded sadly.
"I guess the wounds are still fresh," she said. "All the same, you really shouldn't let it hit you so hard. You're still Asuka Langley Soryu; you're still the kind, gentle, happy girl I know."
She cupped Asuka's cheeks in her hands.
"Don't make that girl go away, 'kay?"
Asuka pushed Hikari away, still averting her eyes.
"It's too late," she said. "You should stop trying, Hikari-chan. You won't make her come back."
"So I should stop trying?" Hikari demanded. "Asuka, I can save you from an army of thugs, a mob of any size, even the military, if I had to, but I can't save you from yourself."
She grimaced.
"I suppose," she said. "I'll have to try…"
Asuka's eyes widened in fear
"No, no you don't—"
"ULTIMATE SECRET TECHNIQUE: BRIGHT SLAP!"
Trash cans flew as Asuka was smashed back several dozen yards, trailing smoke and arcs of light. A dilapidated building shuddered with the force of the girl's body striking a wall. A ring of dust lifted spider webs, spiders and their dinner up into the air, hurling the surprised arachnids into oblivion. The wall was dented, and dust filled the air. Overhead, the moon's light was darkened by the might of the hit.
Groaning, Asuka struggled to her feet.
"Don't give me a lecture, too," she said. "That technique in itself is bad enough."
"You were never able to master it," Hikari said sternly. "Because your heart wasn't ready. It could not handle the mental stress involved in the heart of the move. You have yet to grow up."
Asuka laughed bitterly.
"Right. Of course; you're so much better than I am, aren't you, Hikari-sama? You're strong enough, you're mature enough, and you can—"
"SECOND ROUND: BRIGHT BACKHAND!"
The street was cut open, concrete spilling out like guts. Asuka lay buried in a wall on the other side. The moon went dark. When it came back, Hikari was sitting on the stomped curb, cuddling Asuka in her arms.
"You don't get it," she said. "I do this because…"
Asuka's trembling hand crept up Hikari's shirt, and then, slowly, softly, caressed her cheek.
"It's because I love you!"
A moment passed
Then, another
And another
A disheveled hippie, impoverished by a liberal-arts education that gave him no job, who was lying in a cardboard box, poked his head out to see what was causing this ruckus. Not seeing any evil corporations, wars and government conspiracies to protest, he went back to sleep.
Hikari's body shielded a stunned Asuka from the chilly night wind as silent tears fell upon the girl's cheek.
"Why are you crying?" she asked in an emotionless tone. "Are you…stupid? What's there to…cry about?"
"Back there, back in the alleyway, you weren't just going through the motions," Hikari stated. "I felt your passion, your desire, your strength. That was not something for the sake of old times, and I know it."
She held out her hand.
"You haven't forgotten what it's like to dream yet, Asuka. Don't fall away. Come back to me…come back to us…okay?"
End Stage XIV