I would like to start this new story with an apology. The original story that I first reconfigured to become You Are (Not) Complete, and then attempted to resurrect as Darkness Is (Not) Light was a story that I started during an immensely dark time in my life. To keep this short, I will simply state that working on it is wrecking my mental health, which is taking an immense toll on my physical health. To nobody's shock that has read my stories, I'm autistic. I'm what is called 'twice exceptional' in the autism diagnosis community, and my particular 'superpower' is that I am literally incapable of forgetting things if they make enough (often not much) of an emotional impression on me. Every time I started to write on DI(N)L, I would be right back in the thick of one of the worst times of my life (and in 40+ years of life, that's saying something). I hope you will all forgive me for not wanting to continue on that path. I tried, in an effort to engage in an exercise in self-improvement, but I failed. For that, I am sorry.
+++++ Nagano. 3rd Angel - 9 Years.
It was the screaming that made it horrible. He could handle the wet, pulpy, echoes emanating from the nearby room. The sound of flesh striking flesh violently. But the screaming? There was no way he could disguise that as anything but what it was. He couldn't pretend that they were aggressively manipulating oatmeal, or tenderizing meat, or any of a million things that he knew on some internal level people would not be doing anywhere that was not their kitchen. At seven years of age, four years removed from an incident that was forever scorched into his too-young mind, Shinji Ikari was cursed with far more than miserable living conditions. He had begun to notice serious changes in his body. Changes that the woman who provided what might pass for 'care' had noticed as well. He had grown a half of a meter. Hair began to appear where previously there had been only smooth skin. His musculature had become both pronounced and empowering. Worst of all, his voice had grown deeper. Everything had combined together over the past several months to isolate him from those few children he had been able to play with at the local park.
The children commented to their parents about the changes, the parents complained to the woman who 'cared' for him that he was 'too old' to play such games. Despite reassurances that he was truly seven, that he was simply physically maturing faster than expected, he had been banished. At his current age of nine, he hadn't been allowed to go to school with the other children either. 'Too old'. His homeschooling, such as it was, consisted of him doing chores around the house all day. At night, before the man he had been sent to live with would be home, he was sent to his room to 'wait'. The woman who had 'cared' for him had managed to hide the truth of his existence from that man for a little over two years. In the end, it was the changes in her own body that gave away the game. Changes that led to the first use of Shinji's…abilities.
+++++ Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 0. Thursday, September 19th.
Shaking off the reverie he'd fallen into, Shinji checked the clock on the nearby building-sized television. It was reporting, as it had been for the past half of an hour, that there was an emergency situation in progress. That he should proceed to the nearest shelter, and await further instructions. More important to him, it was reporting that it was forty-two minutes past eleven in the morning. Mom, she's still not here. I really think I should be moving your way, shouldn't I?
Yui Ikari, demonstrating the patience that had kept her sane over the last decade and a half, reminded him once again of his responsibilities, That would give away our little secret, dear. Again, you have to pretend that you know nothing about this project, these Angels, or NERV as a whole.
That's not going to be terribly challenging when the Angels tear everything apart because Captain Katsuragi can't tell time, he snarked. I could have just flown here. She could have met me on your tarmac just as easily as she could at this market street.
Would you want your father to get his hands on the Blackbird?
Muttering a few choice words aloud, he tried to dial his anger back down. His mother knew her business, and he knew his place in life. It wouldn't do anyone any good to have him scare the very people he was attempting to prove wrong about his kind. Two VTOLs raced overhead, giving him something to distract himself with. At a glance, he knew which of the two pilots were likely to live longer. His mind generated the necessary actions his body would have to take in order to recover from the mistakes the less-skilled pilot was making. He felt bad, knowing that the incoming crash was avoidable. "That's a couple million in taxpayer dollars down the drain."
The screech of three tires complaining about the fourth no longer being in contact with the ground drew his attention to his ride's aggressive left turn. Standing up slowly, he shouldered his rucksack and waited for her to come to him. When he didn't move, despite her barreling down on him, he felt his mother's disapproval for his nonchalance. As the Captain anchored the wheel again, giving herself an easy means of returning the way she came as she slid to a stop, she leaned down low enough to see him and called over, "Sorry I'm late, let's go!"
Tossing his pack in the backseat of the two-door sportscar, Shinji calmly sat down and let her driving shut the door for him. Eschewing his seatbelt, as it wouldn't save him from having his neck snapped by the car flipping repeatedly due to her losing control of it, he busied himself watching the skyline and all of the aircraft moving through it.
"Migraines?" Somewhat surprised at the fact that he hadn't even seemed to sneak a peek down her blouse, Misato attempted to engage the 'new guy' in conversation, "The red glasses, I mean."
"Something like that." Taking his eyes off the sky for a moment, he glanced her way and intoned, "I've had to wear them since I was nine, to avoid a lot of pain."
"Hey, at least they're stylish, right?" She wanted to get off on the right foot. He was going to be her pilot, and even if he seemed a bit standoffish…he wasn't bad to look at. "You rock them pretty good."
A slight smirk, and he returned to his appraisal of the sky. "Looks like they're preparing for something…air cover is bugging out." Leaning forward, then out the window, he looked around for something that would be causing the hasty evacuation. "Oh." With a sigh, he sat back down, closed his eyes, took off his glasses, and pulled his seatbelt on. "They're going to drop an N-Two."
"They're what?!" No sooner did she have the words out than a blast wave hit the car, sending it and both occupants tumbling along the mountain road. Panic, a natural reaction to having forces beyond your control violently rip your car from you, became confusion as she felt her passenger set one hand firmly on her lower thigh near the knee, seemingly halting almost all of her momentum induced flails. When the vehicle came to a halt, resting on the driver's side and wobbling slightly, she was about to try and offer a joke when she noticed Shinji scowling at a major break in the left eye of his glasses. With his eyes closed. "Well…I guess we're both going to need some repair work done to our glass."
As they were now useless, Shinji tossed them to the floor before turning around and feeling for his pack. Finding the blindfold tied where he left it, he wrapped it around his eyes and exited the vehicle through his window. He could make out vague shapes, which was more than enough to operate on. "Can you make it out, Captain?" He could lift the car on his own, that wasn't a problem, but he had to at least try and retain the masquerade.
"Err…yeah." Using the steering column as a foothold, she clambered out the same way he had. Internally screaming at the costs she was about to incur on getting her baby repaired, she attempted to seem calm and collected for the new guy, "So, uh, that seems like quite the medical condition. I hope you have a better solution for during combat, since your glasses might get knocked off by a heavy bump."
"I still haven't been told what I'm doing here," he lied fluently. "But I'm sure there will be ways to handle it." Moving around to the roof of the car, he crouched down and got his fingers in position to lift. "Let's get this on its wheels, see what the damage is to the engine."
With a shrug, Misato joined him. "You into cars?"
"Planes, more." Without straining significantly, he got the car back to its proper orientation. "But if it has an engine, I can fix it." Picking a stray piece of glass out of his knuckle, he flicked it away and gestured to the driver's side door. "Pop the hood. Let's check for leaks before we add ignition to a potential bomb."
Doing as she was asked, she pulled on the small lever that would allow the hood to open then joined him in inspecting her engine. Her initial assessment was that she was going to have to act as his eyes, but when she saw him checking various seals, hoses, and bolts for tightness and integrity she realized that her pilot was easily as competent while practically blind as he was while sighted. "So, what's the damage?"
"Nothing important seems to have jostled out of place. Terminal leads are still secured, too. Try and start it. Let's see if the EMP fouled the battery." Two heavy clicks of the keys later, he blew out a sigh. "Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. We're going to need to find a way to jump it."
"There's a general store nearby. They might have some car batteries."
Shinji nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Or at least enough other types of battery to get the hundred and seventy-five amps we need to get the motor to turn over." Keeping close enough to Misato that he could use her as a guide through the unfamiliar terrain, he looked around with his other senses for a general idea of where they were. He could smell the cheap food typical of convenience stores, the various acrid chemicals used in cleaning anything and everything. He felt the false-cold of an air conditioner as they entered the store, and heard a strange creaking sound he couldn't quite make out.
"Why don't you wait here," Misato entreated him. "I think I see some industrial lawn equipment in the back, they might have something we can use."
"Just make sure it wasn't connected to anything before the bomb went off. If it was completing a circuit, it got shorted." Walking a few paces off to the side, he kept trying to locate the source of the sound. The noise was inconsistent, which is mostly what worried him. If it was rhythmic, or even regular, that would indicate something natural. The warp and weft of any physical object placed against another could cause those, but this was something unsteady…something-
"Ah ha!" Misato's crow of triumph brought Shinji's attention away from his search. "I think we can make this work, let's go!"
Unhappy about not discovering the source of the sound, but agreeing that they had little time for him to be playing amateur detective, Shinji turned away from his quarry and caught a whiff of several other items that were not batteries now in the Captain's possession. "Beer, even the strongest available, doesn't have nearly enough alcohol to act as a fuel source."
"For the car, maybe," she stated cheekily. "Let's go, flyboy. We're running late!"
Shinji held the door for her, giving one last look over his shoulder with a frown at the unresolved mystery noise. Letting it go, he hurried out to help Misato rig the car up to run again. As they drove off, hampered by the makeshift system they'd patched together, a hidden door behind the cashier's kiosk finally gave way.
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 0. Thursday, September 19th.
"We've turned left three times in a row," Shinji stated, keeping his voice from demonstrating his frustration with Misato's lack of orienteering knowledge. I'm losing my mind, here.
She is important, dear. Yui's proximity led to an increase in her presence in his mind. She's also new here. This is an enormous complex, and can be rather confusing.
"I'm looking for an elevator," Misato defended herself, unaware of the mental conversation between mother and son. "There was one right around-"
Feeling a door open behind them, Shinji turned around and felt an enormous psychic weight pressing on the world around him. Standing in the center of it, glowing like a golden goddess, was a statuesque woman with dyed blonde hair. "Captain, you're late." Taking two steps towards Shinji, she scooped up one of his hands and placed something hard and metallic against it. "This will keep you safe for now, Ikari-kun. We'll make you a replacement pair of glasses later. What happened?"
"N-Two, kilometer and a half from where we were. We survived, the glasses didn't." Closing his eyes and unwinding the blindfold, he slid the visor into place and felt it lock against the magnets implanted in his temples. Holding one hand out in front of his right eye, he tested the seal and found it snug enough to keep things where they should be. "Thank you."
No thanks needed, we're better off helping each other. Leaving him with a smile and wink, the new woman's face turned stony as she looked at Misato. "Captain, we've been tracking the Third Child since he stepped off the train. Why did it take you two and a half hours to find him? He called your phone, twice, without you picking up!" Turning about, she urged Shinji towards the waiting elevator. "I'm waiting for an answer."
"There was a rockslide on the H-6," Misato explained, clearly on the defensive. "I was trapped between a semi and a family van. I worked with everyone to get my car free, then I had to drive thirty kilometers back the way I came to get to a detour that wasn't blocked by the MAGI!"
"And why were you on the H-6? Your apartment is in the other direction from that highway in relation to where you were to pick him up."
"Because I have a social life!"
Wondering why his mother never mentioned another person like them was working here, Shinji asked exploratively, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.
Ritsuko Akagi, but you can just call me Rits. "Put it in the report, Misato. Fuyutsuki is pissed, and I don't need him breathing down my neck because you were busy with some random guy."
"I was not with-" Slamming her jaw shut and turning bright red, she shifted her attention to Shinji, "Don't you listen to her, ok? I'm not some floozy who goes around sleeping with random guys."
"Not my place to judge, Captain," Shinji stated stoically. "Any chance I get to know what I'm doing here?"
Patting him on the chest, Misato beamed contentedly at him. "That's right, it's bad to judge people without the whole story."
Ritsuko, on the other hand, rolled her eyes and answered his question, "If we told you before you were standing in place, the Commander would have our heads. I'm afraid it's going to be a few more minutes still." You know why you're here. Any reason for the subterfuge?
Because my mother asked politely, and I have a soft spot for manners. With Misato glowering at Ritsuko, he was able to offer her the light smirk that passed for a smile. "Fair enough. The chain of command is important."
Finally giving up on making Ritsuko even appear to feel bad about calling her out, Misato asked Shinji, "So, where were you studying at? In university, I mean?"
"The Nathanial Essex Institute, in New York," he supplied the 'unclassified' name of the corporation.
"New York, eh? Bet that cost a lot."
"My tuition is covered by a charitable grant. I also work for the Institute itself. Honestly, I've never been told how much it costs them to have me there."
Not nearly as much as it would cost to not have you there. Ritsuko, not yet done needling Misato, asked her own amplifying question, "I noticed in your file that you've already reached post-doc?"
"After the fifth meaningless doctorate, I found a field I was actually interested in." He genuinely did not care about the letters after his name. "However, Professor Essex is pushing me back into the classroom. He says I need to spend more time around people my own age."
Misato's eyes had widened at the discussion of advanced schooling, "Wait, you have five doctorates?"
The elevator's doors opened to their destination, and Shinji held the doors open with one hand and gestured for the ladies to precede him with the other. "Each more meaningless than the last, Captain. They're just pieces of paper that say I can write well enough to impress a panel of old men." Following along behind the women, he braced himself to face something he'd never wanted. Hello, mother.
A quartet of spotlights clanked on, illuminating the terrifying visage of Unit-01. Sleek angles and sharp edges detailed a monstrosity built as the final line of defense against a form of alien life that was anathema to those already occupying the ball of mud they sought. Grim, enormous, and prohibitively expensive, there was no avoiding staring at it upon seeing it in person for the first time.
"I see you came," a masculine voice sounded from behind the trio.
The desire to turn around and obliterate everything between him and the man who claimed to be his father was smothered and shoved into the pit of his stomach. Turning around calmly, Shinji retorted, "Well, my options were limited…considering the UN threatened to remove the Institute's educational licenses. Either I let you fuck me, or I fucked everyone else. Call me a team player." Tossing one thumb behind him, he got in a jab, "Any reason you have a Sentinel here?" Hearing Ritsuko choke back a laugh made what was to come worth it.
"Behind you is the pinnacle of mankind's accomplishments, boy." Gendo glared hatred down at him. "You will pilot it."
"It doesn't have wings, and it doesn't float on water. How exactly am I going to 'pilot' it?"
Seemingly catching on that he was being goaded into something, Gendo motioned dismissively and walked back to speak to his aide, leaving Ritsuko to bring him up to speed. The bottle blonde turned to him and bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. A Sentinel? "This is Unit-01, the second in a prototype series, and the first combat-functional Evangelion. It is an anti-Angel weapon, designed specifically around you as the pilot." He's still salty about the Trask Foundation developing an Artificial Intelligence, even if it did lose its mind and murder its founder.
"Wouldn't 'driver' be more grammatically correct?" I've taken down several of those abominations, believe me…there wasn't anything artificial about their intelligence. The entire project was run using his mutant son's powers. The fanaticism they showed in hunting us down was all too genuine. "Anyway, last I checked there was a monster running around causing mischief. How long to get me topside so I can ask it to find other amusements?"
"Five minutes, once you're inside and seated." Gesturing to his other side, where Misato was eyeing her Commander, she continued, "Misato will guide you through your mission. She's your Tactical Commander, so listen to the advice she gives you."
"Understood." Reaching out one hand with a very American gesture, he waited for Misato to accept the offer of a handshake. "Looking forward to working with you, Captain."
"Oh, uh, likewise," Misato stumbled over the greeting, though she did shake his hand firmly. "Let's get you in the saddle."
The entry plug, a cramped and oddly formed cockpit for him to pilot a bio-mechanical monstrosity, was just as unwelcoming as his mother had warned him it was. With people on the bridge busy speaking to one another about the guide they were following, he tried to reach out to his mother once more, Mom?
I'm here, dear. It is difficult to hear you when you're next to Akagi, her psychic strength is far greater than yours and she refuses to restrain it. There was what seemed to be a hint of jealousy in Yui's tone, You should stay clear of her.
He hadn't sensed anything untoward about the woman. Why?
"Ok, Shinji," Ritsuko's voice came through one of the nearby speakers, "we're going to start the procedure now."
"Roger." Suddenly a nearby hatch popped open. The hole it exposed was small enough that he couldn't fit his hand inside of it, but still seemed worrisome. Unexpectedly, a steady jet of liquid began flowing out from said hole. "Uh…Tower, I seem to have sprung a leak."
"It's LCL," Misato chimed in, pleased to have a chance to 'help' him. "Liquid oxygen, if you'd rather think of it like that. Don't worry, you can breathe it just as easily as you breathe air on a hot, humid, summer day."
The substance had reached his knees, and so he scooped some up into his hand and took a tentative sniff. Blood? Tasting it with his tongue, he spat it back out. "Tell me again how breathing in blood is healthy? Couldn't I just have an oxygen reserve?"
"It's a kinetic buffer, a thermal insulator, and far more rich in oxygen than normal air," a new voice chimed in. Her upbeat attitude, and friendly demeanor took away any sting of Shinji being 'wrong'. "Believe me, you'll be happier with that than you would with a normal LOX tank."
By that point it had reached his chin. Since his mother was still remaining silent, he had no choice but to assume that he hadn't been pressured to travel tens of thousands of kilometers just to be drowned in a giant bio-robot. Blowing out all the air in his lungs as it drifted past his nose, he forced himself to suck in a deep lungful of the gunk. The taste was, as he had expected, beyond description. "Needs some sweetener," he joked, more to stop himself from bitching than anything.
"If we added it, you'd develop popcorn lung," Ritsuko replied with a shrug. "Now I need you to concentrate on Unit-01 for this next part. Most of the interface is mental, so just imagine that you're talking to the Evangelion."
Hint taken, he reached out to his mother again, Mom, it's starting to seem a little personal that you're not talking to me here.
I'm…I'm sorry, her voice was almost panting. Your presence, it almost sounded like she swallowed, it's so overwhelming. I can feel you, Shinji. Oh spirits, I can feel you inside me.
"Oh wow, senpai," the cheerful voice sounded, "he's capped pre-A10 already!"
Ritsuko, having been addressed by her junior, replied, "Ok, good. Go ahead with A10 through step one-oh-eight." There was a deep frown on her face, one Shinji couldn't place the purpose of.
There was an echoing 'clank' of some form, as if a dam wall had been dropped to allow the reservoir to run wild. Listening to his mother scream in ecstasy, Shinji winced and gripped the sides of his head as the psychic pain ripped through him.
"Reduce plug depth, eighteen points," Ritsuko ordered quickly. "Keep that psychograph steady, Maya."
The agony began to recede, and Shinji could feel his own mind again as the entry plug eased away from the core of Unit-01. "What about painkillers? If I breathe in something for this headache, is that going to give me lung problems?" With a smirk, he massaged his temples above and below where his visor rested.
"He's at ninety-six point two percent," Maya whispered. "That's a record, and this is his first time."
Patting her junior on the shoulder, Ritsuko addressed the pilot first, "How bad is it?"
"I've had worse." In truth, he felt like his brain was on fire. Problem being, he knew that by now much of the city was on fire too. "Let's get me out there."
The final preparations for combat were accomplished rapidly, and soon Shinji felt himself experiencing the kind of g-forces he expected to use a pressure suit to help compensate for. Clenching and relaxing his legs in a steady rhythm, he focused on his torso and breathing to avoid blacking out. When the ride came to a violent stop, bouncing him in his seat, he noticed that the sky had begun to darken. He also noticed the enormous alien creature peering at him from half a kilometer away. "Contact, front."
"Just try taking a step forward, pilot," Misato's voice lost all of its normal musicality, growing cold and distant. "Think about the Eva taking a step."
Limbering up his arms, and by extension the Eva's, Shinji brought his guard up and took three shuffling hops towards his foe. "I get how to pilot, Command. What I don't know is how to attack beyond punching. This thing have any weapo-oops!" Slapping away the attempted grab from the Third Angel, its gangly limb distending far enough to grab at his head, he countered with an attempted shoulder throw, but ended up instead pulling his assailant closer to him into a mule kick. Rolling free, nearly tripping over the enormous umbilical cord that supplied power to Unit-01, he popped back up to his feet and eyed the enemy that was eyeing him in kind. "Command? Weapons?"
"Engineering says there's something wrong with the catapult that would bring your rifle to you, you're stuck with hand to hand."
"Joy," he muttered. The alien creature, shockingly enough, was entirely foreign in how it approached combat. Instead of circling, as most melee brawlers would in an effort to size him up, it seemed content to stand there and stare at him until it chose to strike. Deciding that aggression would prevent it from gaining the upper hand by allowing it to decipher his defenses, Shinji launched into a four-punch combination followed by a knee into the Angel's side. For his efforts, he received a ringing blow to the side of his own head, and no noticeable damage done to the enemy. Backpedaling to avoid another grab, he discovered that the alien's limb had a piston-driven shank embedded inside of it. That shank slammed into his eye, earning a growled oath and a further retreat as he held one hand over the now-bleeding wound. "Ok, as fun as getting my ass kicked can be, does anyone have anything useful to add to this fight?"
"Grab near your right shoulder, we're ejecting your progressive knife," Misato urged him. "Science is telling me that something's not right, and you should be facing greater resistance."
Taking the blade in hand and reversing his grip on it, Shinji snarked out, "Oh great, I should be getting my ass kicked harder. Lovely." Pulling his hand away from his visored eye, he tested his sight and found that despite it hurting like he'd lost the orb he still could see through it. "Anything el-"
The Third Angel determined its method of attack, implementing it while the humans it faced were unable to unify on a plan of action. With a roar it drove both arms down into the ground below, only seconds later to have them sprout up from beneath and around Unit-01's legs and body to grab his throat. Its flesh melded together, becoming an inescapable noose. While the Eva hacked at one arm with the knife, the alien forced both man and monster's windpipe closed.
Within the entry plug, Shinji clawed at his own throat. There was nothing physical constricting it, nothing he could grab onto and pull free, and as he began to choke to death he mentally laughed at the horrible irony of it all. With his vision narrowing, his mind growing sluggish, he let out one final thought before oblivion took him, Fucking failure.
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 1. Friday, September 20th.
Of anything Shinji had expected to find upon opening his eyes, mineral fiber substrate was not even on the list. Blinking a few times, taking in all of the ceiling tiles around him, he pushed himself up into a seated position while rubbing his throat. He was in a hospital room. Connected to an I.V., a heartrate monitor, a pulse-oximeter, and a blood-pressure cuff. "What fresh hell is this," he questioned aloud. Fumbling around with his mostly free arm, he found the call button and pressed it firmly. "Hospital food for the rest of eternity…that might actually qualify."
"One moment, Pilot," a friendly voice came through the overhead speaker, "Doctor Akagi insisted that she be notified the instant you wake up. Threatened our credentials if we touched you before she did."
"Well, one mustn't annoy the doctor," he countered. "Happen to have the baseball score?"
"Which team?"
"Shinano."
"Groundserows beat the RedHopes eight to two."
"…So you're saying I'm actually alive?"
"No, I'm saying that Hanma allowed two runs in seven innings," the voice joked back. "The machines are saying you're alive."
With a smirk, he coughed out a laugh. "Ok, I like you."
"That's good," Ritsuko declared as she hurried into the room, "he's your assigned nurse."
The voice, becoming more professional, asked, "Permission to come introduce myself, Doctor?"
"Granted, please bring a new banana bag, this one's down to twenty milliliters." Hitting a switch on the wall to end the call, she placed a stethoscope against his back. How are you feeling?
Surprised, anxious…hungry. He performed the familiar breathing exercises all doctors demanded one perform while a cold metal disk is shoved against you. How'd you extract me?
Your mother took over once you lost consciousness. The frown was back at the mention of his mother. She co-opted your abilities, pulverized the red orb at the center of the Angel's torso. Switching to the front, she listened to his heart for a bit. For someone who's anxious, you're hiding it very well.
Long story. He took note of the door opening, the largest man he had ever seen in his life squeezing through the portal with several items in his hand. "The hell did they feed you?"
"Lost children and goats," the man snorted out with a laugh. "Guido Carosella, at your service."
"I always wondered what happened to my sister. Was she tasty?"
"Little scrawny, kinda slim, like you." With far more dexterity than it would seem he had, Guido changed out the IV bags. "Need to put some meat on those bones, Slim, if you're going to take beatings like that."
Ritsuko, seemingly content to allow the byplay, finished making notes on his chart. "The goal, I believe, is to inflict greater damage on the enemy. Muscle won't help him, since the interface is mental." Holding one hand out towards the nurse, she stated, "He's like us, which is why he's your nurse. Nurse Carosella's particular abilities include increased strength and durability, limited kinetic absorption, and a BA from NYU. The particulars are unimportant."
"Don't worry, boss, we've got your back here. Me and Rahne, you'll meet her later, we'll make sure things are kept on the down-low." Balling his hand into a fist, he held it out towards Shinji in a brotherly gesture. "Gotta stick together."
Gently tapping his own fist against Guido's, Shinji nodded in agreement and greeting. "It's nice to meet you, too. If there's anything I can do, let me know."
"I'll hold you to that," the big man declared with a friendly grin. "Anything else you need, Doctor?"
"No, thank you." Ritsuko seemed genuine in her fondness for the big man, treating him as a younger brother. "We're going to get some food in him, let that bag finish draining, and then get him out of here. So once you've got the reports written up, you can clock out. I'll take it from here."
"Never saying no to free time off. See you around, Slim."
Shinji inclined his head in farewell. "Hopefully not in here, though." Once his new friend's laughter was cut off by the closing of the door, Shinji looked back to Ritsuko with a scowl, How many people know about me?
Only those who need to. I worked hard to hire enough of our kind to ensure I wasn't alone in helping you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she looked at him intently. I can't say who your father has, or has not, told. He trusts me, but only as far as he could throw me.
Laying back down, he crossed his arms over the top of his head and stared through the ceiling. There are only one hundred and ninety-eight of us…are you sure gathering so many in one place is worth the limited gain? I'm used to operating alongside humans.
Ritsuko lightly traced her fingertips along his sternum, then his ribs. Can't be helped, really. Project E draws us here like iron filings to a magnet. Pursing her lips thoughtfully, she added, Your father is opposed to you living unsupervised. He's made the argument that as a 'living weapon of mass destruction' you need to be under careful observation.
My father can kiss the darkest part of my lily-white ass, Shinji retorted without any true heat. To him, the fact that Gendo was a colossal cockmallet warranted no further emotional investment…so long as he wasn't forced to interact with the man. You know that my mother can't speak to me with you around, don't you.
I do. Settling her hand over his stomach, she quirked an eyebrow. She offered to 'help' me, before. Said I should 'control' my powers so that I'm not walking around like a living beacon of psychic light.
Rocking his head to the side, facing her, he couldn't disagree with her self-assessment. It is beautiful to see, that's true. But there's more to it than just a desire to amplify an already stunning appearance.
I don't trust your mother, she admitted blandly. There's something about her story that has never added up, and I'd rather her not go rifling through my head freely until I get to the bottom of it.
Then why are you sitting here trying to pry through my thoughts?
Blowing out a low sigh, she let her hand slide off his torso. Because I've never met someone with as weak a psychic potential as you who also simultaneously had such steel-braced control over their thoughts. Shrugging her shoulders and standing up, she walked over to a nearby drawer and put away the stethoscope she'd borrowed. You're a blacksmith's puzzle, standing out in the open. I'm an overly curious scientist, looking at a public display of talent. She looked back at him, the truth written in her features as much as her words, Even the best mind is often nothing more than a tightly scripted bundle of neuroses. Can you blame a girl for wanting to know how you tick?
The truth was, he could not. Don't push my defenses unexpectedly, and you won't get in trouble. Push me, and I will treat it as an attack.
Fair. "I'm going to go get us some food. You sit there and be a good patient, and I might even bring you back something with caffeine in it."
"Tell the guards outside that if they need to, they can station someone in here. I'm not going to make a jailbreak attempt…yet." Catching her grin, he returned his gaze to the ceiling above. It wasn't often that he failed, anymore. Replaying the fight in his head over and over again, he began to develop plans to avoid having to suffer through such a failure again.
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 1. Friday, September 20th.
Shinji sat patiently in the back of the company sedan, his hands clasped at his waist, his eyes closed. The two women that were driving him to a place he knew not where, were clearly feeling him out for how much 'trouble' he was going to be for them. They weren't mutants, of that he was certain, but he knew that they also weren't 'normal'. It was in the way they had carried themselves. One had a type of almost feral grace, a predator eyeing the prey that was the rest of the world. The other seemed to take almost as much in at a glance as he did. Keeping track of the turns, the speed, the stops, he developed a map in his mind of the path they chose and overlaid it on the map he had memorized of Tokyo-3 on the long flight from Westchester. They were moving towards…a shopping center? "Ok," he asked, without lifting his head, "I'll call a draw on the quiet game we were playing. Who wants to be the first to admit they have no idea what they're doing here?"
"Half an hour of silence, and the first thing you utter to us is sass." One of the ladies, the one who saw too much, snorted out a laugh. "Mikoto, you owe me an ice cream."
"Never thought I'd lose that one," 'Mikoto' mused, her voice a near purr. "What's with the shades? Red seems a bit…lively for someone as broody as you are."
Lifting his head with no discernable emotions on his face, Shinji deadpanned, "They stop me from causing headaches."
The first woman frowned. "I thought red was the color you waved around to make bulls aggressive?"
"Bulls don't see red, it's the motion they don't like," Mikoto answered, turning around in her seat and taking him in more directly. "You smell odd."
"Not my preferred brand of deodorant," Shinji replied with a shrug. "I used what they had on hand, since Captain Katsuragi's driving destroyed most of my luggage."
"Kind of reminds me of a lady I know." Her eyes narrowed. "Type of lady who changes her hair color. Often."
Keeping his hands calmly clasped, to avoid making any aggressive motions, he asked flatly, "Is that something you're opposed to?"
"No." Reaching up and tapping something that was dangling between her petit breasts, she smiled to expose an alarmingly carnivorous set of teeth. "Just wanting to know what to expect, is all."
Swallowing the sigh of relief, he opened up just a touch more himself. "If you ever see me without the glasses, try to help me find them again. I'd give you a demonstration of what happens without them, but we'd need to find someplace without anything overly fragile."
"There's a nearby forest, pretty unpopulated," the woman driving offered. "Once we're done shopping for stuff, we could take you there to play 'show and tell'."
"You two going to be my parole officers, then?"
"We were given right of first refusal. You convince us you're worth guarding, and yes." She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "We're all human, only extreme pedants and psychos think folks like you are monsters."
Mikoto scoffed, turning back around and sitting down properly again. "People don't need special powers to be monsters, Akane-chan. Man's managed to do enough terrible things without the ability to read minds, turn into rock, or bend metal."
"And that's what I said, bitch," Akane teased playfully. "Just because you're pedantic doesn't mean you're extremely pedantic."
"Words have meanings, and I refuse to allow people to mangle the language by attempting to foul up those meanings for lazy, petty, or cynical reasons." With a dignified huff, she waved her friend and partner off. "Let's park and spend money. I wanna see what he can do."
The truth of their banter was in the way it came across as both natural and polished. They'd argued the point so long that they could hold each other's positions down in a debate without any noticeable flaw…and that meant he probably wasn't going to have a problem from them so long as he didn't give them a problem to have. "So what are the rules, then?" He remained still as the car pulled into an empty parking space, his instincts telling him that it was better to overplay his willingness to cooperate for now. "Am I always going to have you two with me about town?"
"Until we get to know you, yes." Finally turning to face him, Akane looked at him with a mixture of firm resolve and sympathy. "Nothing personal, but you have a lot of marks against you. You're the only one who can work the big robot. You're a weapon of mass destruction. You're eighteen years old. You're 'new' to Japan. I could go on, but it's belaboring the point. Immense risk, need to build trust." Waggling a finger around the three of them, she continued, "You show us we can keep the leash at home, we'll help cover for you if you want to go take a walk to clear your mind. Teammates, yeah?"
It was the best deal he would likely get. "Fair enough. I'm not here to cause trouble."
Both Akane and Mikoto blinked in surprise, it was the latter that admitted, "I had expected you to chafe at this."
Shrugging his shoulders, he gestured to Akane. "Nothing she said is a lie. If I die, giant aliens will likely kill everyone. I can, and have, punched the top of a mountain off by taking off my glasses. I'm eighteen. I haven't been to Japan since I was nine. Trust has to be built, and she wasn't wrong that the best chance I have to take moonlit walks is to play nice with people who don't mean me any harm. It'd be proving people who think I'm too immature to trust right if I whined and complained about having common sense restraints on my freedoms." He tapped his glasses. "I don't wear these because I like them. I wear them because wearing a visor makes people nervous. Nervous people are hostile. Common sense."
Akane nodded her head, clearly pleased by his response. "Good on you for recognizing when to bend. Where do you want to start, then? Clothes, shoes, or décor?"
"Can't really shop for furnishings without a place to stay."
Opening her door and climbing out, Mikoto dropped the other shoe, "You already have a place. Our apartment."
It was his turn to blink, taking an extra second to process that information before he joined them in exiting the car. "Come again?"
"It was that, or a dorm room in the brig," Akane confirmed. "The Commander insisted that you be monitored twenty-four-seven, the Sub-Commander interpreted the lack of specificity to mean you could be quartered with Section Two agents instead of behind a clear-glass wall, and Doctor Akagi contacted us because of our experience with uniquely gifted individuals." Coming to a stop before him, she tilted her head to the side and asked, "I'm hoping you don't have a problem living with two unattached ladies?"
It wasn't a choice, it was an ultimatum. They were trying to put a nice face on things, but ultimately what they were doing was trying to keep him from being treated as the prisoner he was. "I'm cooking. One or both of you handle the dishes. Dishes don't get done, I'll only cook enough for myself. Only rule I have is don't touch my toothpaste. It took me forever to find a brand that doesn't leave an aftertaste, and I can't get it locally. It only survived the N-Two because I had it in the same hardcase I kept my toothbrush in."
Mikoto nodded agreeably. "Sounds fair. Apartment rules are 'ask before using', 'pants-free zone', and no loud music." She pointed upwards. "Neighbors above us have a newborn, don't want to be assholes."
"Boy or girl?"
"Little girl, 'Natsuko'," Akane answered. "Why?"
Stepping around her, he began moving towards the first shop. "Because I want to buy a toy and some enrichment activities for her. We'll probably have to come and go at odd hours, and the least we can do is give her parents something to try and stop the crying with."
Falling in behind him, the agents looked at each other with open curiosity. Whispering, Mikoto pondered, "He didn't say anything about the pants-free part."
Akane had noticed that as well. "Maybe he's gay?"
"Or maybe I don't care how much or how little you wear in your own home," Shinji called back. Feeling the gnawing worry grow, he sneered. He would cooperate with them, but he would also test them whenever he got the chance. After all, as a prisoner in wartime he had an obligation to make the odd escape attempt.
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 1. Friday, September 20th.
The shopping had taken as long as it had only due to the fact that Akane and Mikoto were determined to expand his wardrobe beyond slacks and dress shirts. The back of the company sedan was now stuffed with clothing he felt he'd likely never wear, but had bought simply to keep the peace. The seat next to his was filled with simple, comfortable, bedding materials and inoffensively scented personal hygiene products. He'd found an ally in Mikoto on the war against overly scented people and the chemicals used to create them.
Out in the middle of nowhere in the aforementioned forest, having taken a seven-kilometer walk with his new roommates, Shinji finally stopped when he found a good open area where he wouldn't damage any local fauna or flora and traded his glasses for the visor Ritsuko had given him. "Either of you have a Yen coin?"
Akane dug one out of her purse. "Yeah."
Shaking his head as she went to hand it to him, he stepped a bit further from them. "Whenever you're ready, flip it as high as you can."
Both women looked at one another, shrugged, and then the taller agent used her thumb to send the coin tumbling end over end in a tight spin. When a tightly-focused ruby-red beam flicked out eight times, they weren't overly surprised. They'd figured by that point that his ability had something to do with force projection. When the coin landed back in Akane's hand, with eight perfectly spaced tiny holes punched into its face, it was Mikoto who whistled sharply.
"Ok, I'll admit it. I'm impressed." The shorter agent grinned at him, applauding as he took a mockingly flowery bow. "Rather than try to blow us away with a demonstration of raw power, you chose to use control and discipline. Well played."
Not surprised that someone expected to investigate criminal activity would have seen the point of his ploy, Shinji nodded soberly. "Honestly, I'd rather not do the 'raw power' demonstration. I'm not interested in messing up the terrain, and whether I like it or not Newton was right. If I blast upwards, I'm potentially going to hit something out in space eventually." Replacing the visor with his glasses, he tested the fit before fully opening his eyes. "I try to operate on most of the same principles that someone wielding a gun should. Know what I'm aiming at, know when to aim at it, and don't fire if I'm not willing to break it."
Akane put the coin back in her purse, intending to add it to her collection of odd currencies. "Good rules to live by. Were you serious about the mountain?"
"You remember that volcanic eruption in what remained of Peru last year?" He scowled. "Sentinel factory. We lost several good men and women trying to resolve the situation peacefully. It was down to me and one other, and I made a choice. They may have been able to develop defenses against my power, but they weren't able to defend against the geothermal processes they were using to power the foundry. Sank the whole thing into the volcano." Pocketing his visor, he growled and began to walk back to the car. "Kept blasting it from above until the last of it was nothing but a bad memory."
Mikoto grimaced, understanding what that would do to someone psychologically. Akane caught up to Shinji, placing a comforting hand on the back of his neck. "I wasn't there, and I can't judge your decisions because I don't know the variables. If you ever need to talk about it, though…roommates, you know?"
There was something in her touch that hurt. The knowledge that someone actually thought of him as more than a weapon, or weapon's component, was unfamiliar and almost frightening. His first instinct was to flinch away from that touch, to pretend it never happened. He might have, had Mikoto not come up along his other side and placed a similar hand at the small of his back.
"We've all done shit we're not good with. I've got my own decisions I can't regret but still hate." Her smile, this time free of the pointy fangs, spoke of a shared suffering. "How about we go home and you try to wow us with your cooking? I'm normally the chef, but I'll give you a chance."
His soul, what there was of it, itched. "Sure…sounds good."
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 1. Friday, September 20th.
Using what he had available, Shinji made something he felt was adequate, Akane felt was world-class, and Mikoto was lingering over like a man nursing the world's last beer. Sitting on the floor in front of the television, the device turned to an all-day news network, he poked at the last of his marinated carrot slices as he thought through how to respond to the question posed to him. "Art and science are inseparable, when properly practiced. Like much in life, it's all a spectrum. Cooking falls, I would argue, on the 'science' side of the art-science spectrum. Others might argue that it should be more on the 'art' side. People who do 'home cooking' would probably agree with that, because they don't worry as much about measurements as they do about feel. Does it 'feel' right in your mouth? Does the smell 'feel' right in your nostrils?" Spearing the carrot, he held it up to Akane's lips. "But the facts of the matter end up being that the best meals in the world are made from a recipe that has been refined, practiced, and performed thousands of thousands of times. That's science. The art of the repeatable."
Happily accepting one last tidbit of the evening's meal, Akane savored the texture and flavor for a long minute before swallowing happily. "And you're eighteen?"
"I'm a very, very old eighteen." Setting his plate aside and leaning back on his hands, he looked off into the distance. "Most people were worrying about what their friends thought about their backpacks at the same age someone first tried to kill me. Fucked up childhood. Fucked up teenager. Now, fucked up adult."
Chewing slowly on a thick cut of maple-sweetened pork, Mikoto asked, "Scuttlebutt has it you're actually 'Doctor Ikari', any truth to that?"
"Five doctorates," he confirmed. "That's part of the 'fucked up teenager' story. I defended my first thesis when I was fourteen, largely because my school days were nineteen hours long, year-round. Doctor Essex believed that 'days off' were a sin, and that 'idle time' was the perfect time to study harder." Making a finger gun and pointing it to his temple he 'blew his brains out'. "To be frank, the shopping trip today is the first time I've spent more than fifteen minutes doing anything that wasn't combat or academically related."
Akane's lips curled off to one side. "So if we call you Doctor, I'm guessing…."
"You'll wake up with all of your clothing having been dunked in soy sauce and stuffed in the freezer? Yes. Yes you will." He blew out a deep sigh. "I don't care about it. I never have, and likely never will. I have no interest in impressing anyone with them, I'm never going to receive a job in the fields I'm degreed in, and all it's done for me is ensure that I'll never be able to look at a concept without automatically looking for biases in my thinking."
"So…no social life?"
"Too young to go drinking with my colleagues, too old to have meaningful conversations with people my age, and too busy studying and training to think about even trying to do either." He winced as a memory skipped off the surface of his mind. "The only reason I'm as articulate as I am is that Doctor Essex kept a steady stream of experts engaged in training me. I'd be forced to recite poetry while performing gymnastics. Debate paradoxes while cooking. Never with an eye towards developing any form of connection, though. The one teacher that made the mistake of trying to sit me down and discuss my life goals was immediately and permanently deported. I'm a walking, talking, encyclopedia."
"With a pretty sharp wit," Mikoto parried the self-criticism. "You're sitting here with two women a decade older than you, and you're doing more than just holding your own in the conversation."
With a shrug, he simply claimed, "Luck."
"Or, and this might be a shock to you, actual talent and personality." Mikoto leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Nothing you're telling us, or showing us, indicates a terrible person."
"I do try to keep those things from spilling out."
With a chuckle, Mikoto leaned forward enough to put her face in his line of sight. "Oh? What dark secrets are you hiding, then?"
"When we were walking in the forest, back to the car," his face shifted from the 'cordial, troubled' man towards the 'grim, stoic' man, "both of you touched me. My first instinct was to lash out, put both of you on the ground, make certain you weren't threatening me. Every instinct I have warned me that I was being attacked." He stood up, heading towards the bedroom he'd been given. "The last time anyone touched me without meaning to hurt me, they were detained and deported."
After the door to his room closed gently, the two women sat there digesting their food and the information he'd shared. Something neither of them had mentioned, because they were both genuinely curious as to what kind of man he was, was his complete non-reaction to Mikoto walking around in her typical cropped shirt and thong and Akane wearing a sports bra and sweatpants. Both of them knew damn well that they turned heads out on the town. They knew that anyone his chronological age that was interested in women would have been a spluttering mess with how they were displaying themselves. With the knowledge that everyone and everything that might have given him warmth had been purposefully kept from him, they were left to develop plans to fix that shortcoming.
"You know we're going to catch a raft of shit for dating a younger man, right?" Akane looked her oldest friend in the eye, well aware of what the other woman's thoughts were.
Stacking the plates and taking them to the sink to wash, Mikoto's non-answer was simple, "So?"
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 2. Saturday, September 21st.
Shinji and Mikoto were loping along easily, the former in loose-fitting shorts and a compression shirt and the latter in a durable, form fitting, crop top and leggings. Entering the latter half of the hourlong run on a track inside the GeoFront, Akane sat down on the bleachers with Ritsuko for a check-in. "He shows his age from time to time, in small ways."
The bottle-blonde polymath, enjoying the sight of both runners working up a sweat, murmured, "Oh?"
"He broods. For all his formal education, he lacks the words he needs to express the emotions his body is bombarding him with." Holding her hands one over the other, she moved them further apart. "When he hits his next growth spurt, we're going to have physical pain added to emotional. Stuff like that."
"He won't grow any bigger, naturally," she corrected. "He had a precocious puberty. Seven years old. He finished growing when he was thirteen."
"He's been almost one ninety since he was thirteen?!"
"Mmhmm." Inwardly she laughed when Mikoto suddenly challenged Shinji to a full sprint. She knew the secret the agent kept hidden with a magical locket, the physical gifts it bestowed upon her, and it thrilled her to watch Shinji keep up with some difficulty. Keep pushing yourself. Let her help you.
She's not like us, how is she this fast? His thoughts were rocksteady, despite his body being pushed to its limit.
She's a mutate. Genetic manipulation, rather than mutation. "What's your threat assessment, then?"
Akane snorted out a laugh. "I wouldn't want to put him in a situation where he's forced to choose between what's right and his orders. If that story about the volcano is true, we'd lose a lot of people trying to stop him."
"I know how capable he is, agent," Ritsuko retorted. "I'm asking if he's a threat."
"Couldn't tell you. He wants to play ball with us. He doesn't want to abuse the power he has. He's a good guy given a raw deal and is making the best of it." She side-eyed her superior. "We're probably going to help him make up for the absolute lack of social life he has."
Standing up, she waved off concern. "The LCL means he's sterile. Just don't leave bruises or marks where they're visible." Walking off, leaving a slack jawed Akane behind, she sent a final message to Shinji for the morning, Fair warning, your father is looking for reasons to force you to live in the brig.
+++++ NERV Tokyo-3. 3rd Angel + 2. Saturday, September 21st.
"I'm saying I feel naked without a book," Shinji explained. "We went over this last night. 'Fun' was not something I was ever overburdened with."
Akane, standing between Shinji and the door of the apartment, was wearing what she felt was an outfit that balanced 'interested' and 'eye-catching'. The first step she wanted to take was to determine if he was even into women at all, and she wisely left 'slutting it up' to Mikoto. With his back to the room she shared with her best friend with benefits, she caught sight of their roommate walking out in a skirt that just barely hid anything with a top that was best described as 'present'. "Which is why we're starting small. Nobody's going to card you, because you both look and carry yourself like someone a decade older than you are. We have a contact at a local nightclub, one that has private rooms for parties, who cleared a room specifically for us."
"Miki-tan wants to dance," Mikoto purred as she reached Shinji's side. With a bit of a childish pout, she batted her eyelids at him. "Doesn't Shin-tan want to make Miki-tan happy?"
"I don't know either of you," he stated, a hint of frost in his voice. "If you want someone to watch your back while you flirt with people at the bar, I'd recommend someone with a valid international driver's license."
To her credit, Akane recognized Mikoto's shift in personality and took a precautionary step to place herself between them if necessary. "That's why we're going to a private room. That way the three of us can get to know one another. A few drinks, some music, some dancing. It's how people socialize."
"We're socializing now," he countered. "I don't drink, I play music, and I've never danced in my-" Suddenly, Mikoto's appearance changed dramatically. Long, reddish-orange hair replaced her typical well-kempt black. Every inch of exposed skin became covered in the merest hint of lighter orange fur, black stripes adorning the sides of limbs and torso. A cat's tail sprouted, drifting down to her ankles before lashing violently from side to side as emerald eyes glared up into his. Her figure was fuller, her stature combative, and her message to him clear. "…Life."
"I would appreciate it if you reached outside of your comfort zone to bond with your new roommates," Mikoto declared in an even tone. "We have opened our home to you, shown good faith in our dealings with you, and are asking that you spend time doing something we enjoy in return. I do not care if you don't know how to dance, I will teach you to. If you'd rather the drinks be non-alcoholic, that's fine. Now are you going to take the hand we are offering you, or are you and I going to make poor Natsuko-chan cry?"
Of all the sins Shinji was guilty of, the worst of them was wrath. Not the form of anger directed at an innocent, but the type of rage that only ever had one target: himself. He wasn't worthy of people's attention, as had been demonstrated frequently and firmly throughout his life. When he drew people's attention, they were harmed. Better then, in his mind, that anyone who sought to get to know him too closely be sent packing. He had tried to keep these new women at arm's length, despite seeming to open up to them. He had simply been informing them of how his life had been, not begging for help in changing that life. "I don't cower towards threats. Do what you want to; I'll be in my room."
Akane set her hand on Mikoto's shoulder as the woman went to go after their prisoner. "Don't," she whispered sharply. Weathering a withering glare, she waited for Shinji's door to close. As the closing of the door was far quieter than she'd worried it might be, she knew she was right in her position. "He's scared, Miki."
Rolling her eyes, Mikoto snapped, "I know he's scared. I want to push him past that fear to find out what is waiting for him on the other side of that wall."
"So do I, but maybe tonight's not the night."
"No." Stepping away from her partner's hold, she stomped over to Shinji's room. "He has been a victim his entire fucking life, and I'm not going to sit here and let him perpetuate that crime out of fear." Pulling up short of just throwing his door open, she stopped long enough to take a deep breath and knock in a socially acceptable manner. When, after a moment, he didn't answer, she opened the door enough to poke her head in.
"Typically," he uttered quietly, laying on his back on the bed he'd been given, "when someone does not answer a knock, it is because they're disinterested in speaking with whoever is on the other side."
Akane grinned, pleased that he was at least willing to attempt a calm level of humor instead of pressing the fight on. "Typically, when an attractive woman asks an attractive man to accompany her somewhere, she's at least given a reason why he's disinterested."
"I told you-"
"A lie," she interrupted him. "A comforting lie, but still a lie." Slipping into the room, she walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed. "What's actually holding you back? You're too intelligent by half to pretend that this is nothing more than youthful anxiety or fear." She saw his jaw clench, wishing she could actually see his eyes and not the ruby-colored lens of his visor. "I don't have any interest in making fun of you, and unless it is a threat to health or safety, I'm not going to be making an official report on it. I want leadership in our little home here even less than you do, believe it or not."
He lay silent and still for a time, searching for the words he needed and grateful that she was giving him the time to find them. "It's the rain, not the river."
"The million cuts that come from being in public," she nodded her understanding. "The looks we get. The worry that someone's going to find out and start a mob. The knowledge that while we might be fine, people will get hurt. You don't want to be responsible for the flood, so you avoid the rain." His slight nod was enough to satisfy her. "Where we're looking to go, there are people there to stop stupid from finding a place to happen. Humans that hate bigotry and prejudice just as much as you and I do. This place is a bastion for those who want to relax. Unwind." She rubbed one hand along his leg, squeezing his quad to get him to look at her. "I know it's hard to trust people you just met, Shinji…but I really would like to dance with a guy I know is good. I love Akane, don't get me wrong, but sometimes it's just nice to let loose with a dude instead."
Pushing himself up to a seated position, he bent his knee enough that he could wrap his arms around it and balance himself. "I was pretty serious about not knowing how to dance."
"And you'll never learn how to, if you don't start somewhere." Switching her grip on his leg to a knuckle under his chin, she grinned with a wide row of feline teeth visible. "If Akane makes fun of you while we're learning, I'll take a chunk out of her." Standing up and bending down at an angle that offered him a perfect view of her figure, she shifted her smile to one of welcome as she offered him her hands. "C'mon. I'll let you bring a book, if it'll make you feel better."
Hesitating just a moment, he set one of his hands in hers. "What is it you want? From me, I mean."
"Don't know yet," she shrugged. "Tonight's just the start of finding out."