Plug Suits and Penguins

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Chapter 3: Extortion at the Convenience Mart, or, Upon a Chance Second Meeting with a Broke Preteen Mahou Shoujo Fanatic

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It called to her. Not out loud, she wasn't nuts, but it drew her conscious attention like a siren's song. There she was, minding her own business in the convenience mart of not giving business to the convenience mart, when the glossy foil wrapper attracted just the right amount of fluorescent lighting and claimed her eye from across three aisles. And the rest of the store faded away. Gone, the well-worn, outdated manga she wasn't supposed to be skimming without buying. Disappeared, the shelves of digestive aids incomprehensibly lined opposite indigestible snacks. Erased, the teenage store clerk behind the counter who watched her approach with one pierced eyebrow raised.

It was before her. It was in her hands. It was no mirage, no fever dream. Her wallet was out.

Before she recalled she had nothing in it. Problematic. Several options arose at once, bobbing into her head, competing to be fished out.

Shoplifting. She was a decent runner, she was always in the top five picked at gym class for any given sport, but the presence of security cameras and the impatient gaze of the clerk were discouraging.

Searching the floor for cash. She had been blessed in the past, finding yen in the corner of a shoe store once that financed her current badly abused flip flops. So far today, though, no such luck.

Layaway. Unlikely the store management had a program available for eleven-year-olds.

Stuck with no options, she opted for biding time. She made a display of putting her wallet back, kicking her heels, and replacing the treasure on the rack. Not where she found it, and in a different category behind several larger selections. Aw shucks. Now she could race home and make a dignified groveling for an advance on her allowance from…

Not Kodama. God knew what she was doing with her money from her constant lament of being broke. And not Hikari. The tiniest financial impropriety was trigger for a long, detailed lecture on fiscal discipline and denial of instant gratification. Sometimes with graphs and charts. And not Dad. Just, no. Not Dad.

Shoplifting looked more and more tenable. Until, pondering in the middle of the mart, she spotted a somewhat familiar face.

"Hey," she said, without thinking. "It's the boy who likes Hikari."

Shinji Ikari, whose exact name escaped her, froze, halfway in the store. One foot still outside on the welcome mat.

"Uh…"

Sensing fear and imminent flight, she pounced before he could do anything except annoy the clerk for letting out the cool air. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him in. The gods had graciously bestowed upon her a means to an end. Thanks, gods.

"You're Ms. Horaki's younger sister, right?" he asked, reclaiming his hand. "Um, Ms. Nozomi?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's me."

"Oh. Well, how are you?" Communicating with people his own age was hard enough. What was he supposed to say to her? After she hauled him inside and then proceeded to ignore him while delving into a candy rack? "… How are your sisters?"

Still she delved. Like excavating ancient processed sugar ruins.

"I hope they are both well—"

"Buy this."

Nozomi held a long, colorfully wrapped confection at him, her casual demeanor and tone belied by her shaky hand.

"Excuse me?" Shinji asked.

"Buy this. You're not broke, are you?"

"… No, but why would—"

"Buy this for me or I'll tell Hikari you like her."

She didn't mean to flip her trump card so fast. Really. It just sort of happened. Adrenaline is a funny thing. Holding the treasure, feeling its weight, in her hand, was more exhilarating than she remembered. She forced a degree of reason, studying the boy as he processed the demand.

He didn't appear embarrassed. He didn't blush or sputter. He just sort of looked at her. Like he was disappointed by her worth as a human being. It would sting, if she wasn't already committed to the path.

Shinji sighed. "I don't think she'll believe you. Sorry."

Nozomi was not expecting that. Didn't he care about his social standing being compromised? The rumor mill was a remorseless, cruel, hideous witch squid reaching through all aspects of public and private life, crushing hopes and dreams when you least suspected. It was both the ultimate form of power, and the ultimate form of powerlessness. Didn't this boy understand?

He shrugged at her. He pulled out a shopping list from his pocket and made to complete it.

A new option arose, bubbling beneath the surface as tension let it boil up: Desperation.

"Puh-leeeeeeeez," Nozomi begged in the middle of the convenience mart. "I've already spent my allowance for the month—"

"It's only the third day of the month."

"—and this is the super rare limited run ultra edition choco magi cake cake bar with a guaranteed twinkle hologram card inside." She stared at his incomprehension. "Guaranteed!"

Shinji sighed again. He'd been doing that a lot since moving to Tokyo-3. "If I buy this… thing for you, will you stop making a scene?"

"Probably!"

"… Fine."

"Wait." Nozomi sensed weakness again. She flew back to the candy rack and returned with another choice, a box displaying an SD mech in a bed of flowers for some reason, promising a rare collectible in addition to ruining your dental hygiene.

"I'm only getting you the one," Shinji protested.

"That one isn't for me. It's for a friend."

"Why can't your friend buy it?"

"She's in the hospital."

The boy's exasperation shifted. "She's ill?"

"She was hurt. By the giant robot a few weeks ago."

The quiet nervous boy became quieter and more nervous. Nozomi did not notice, so enraptured by her imminent success. Shinji accepted the box.

"Your friend," he began, sounding hollow, "does she have any family?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, yeah. Her big brother is an absolute clod but at least he visits her." She shook her head. "Sakura, that's her name, she says her brother comes by too often. Like, she's sick of seeing him."

"Oh."

Shinji ambled over to the clerk, debit card in hand. He paid for the two candies, not bothering to raise objection to the complete highway robbery just inflicted on his finances. He gave the purchases to Nozomi. She bent at the knee, overcome, one in each hand.

"Yes~," she rejoiced. She straightened. "Thanks, mister. I guess I won't tell Hikari you like her, after all."

Her good-natured ribbing fell on deaf ears. Shinji floated away, out of the mart, into the baking late afternoon sun. Nozomi was a touch offended. Her benevolence in victory was wasted. She started after.

She found him on a bus stop bench, alone. She stood by him. He looked like his pet fish was eaten by his pet cat who was eaten by his pet dog who was run over by his mom's car who drove off a cliff after abandoning him at this crummy bus stop.

"Hey," she demanded his attention. She didn't get it. Nozomi kicked a sizeable chunk of gravel at his leg. His body reacted to the blow, but he remained far away. She balanced the gravel on his head. She held his nose shut until he sputtered and coughed and recoiled.

"What was that for?" Shinji asked, picking rock from his hair.

"Where did you zone out to just now?" The fleeting thought she was in some part to blame for his brief disassociation episode came and went. "And the bus doesn't come for another half-hour."

"I…" He avoided eye contact, searching for escape. "Your friend, um… Sakura…" He had trouble getting it out. "I'm, I'm sorry she was hurt."

"That's what you're upset about?" Nozomi asked, sitting beside him on the bench. She chirped a laugh. "Don't be."

"What?"

"I mean, sure, a broken leg is a bummer," she went on, ignoring his incredulity, "but do not feel sorry for her. She is having the time of her life. She misses school, watches TV all day and gets pampered by her brother even more than usual. He buys her all the mecha manga and model kits she wants. All she has to do is whimper a little and clutch at her leg. Her hospital room looks like a deranged robot library."

Shinji stared at her.

"Sakura has always been a little off. Preferring mecha. What a weirdo. I keep explaining mahou shoujo is totally better. But no, no no, mecha is 'mature' and 'deep.' What a liar. She only likes it because she moons after the pilots. She thinks her own sensitive, battle-hardened soldier boy will swoop down from the skies to rescue her from a normal life. Her own Amuro or Hikaru."

She noticed Shinji still staring.

"What?"

"Who?" he asked.

Nozomi gave him a look of aghast disbelief. "Sure they're dated, but they're classics. Even I know them." She shook her head at his lack of comprehension. "What kind of childhood did you have?"

One not filled with mecha media. His old teacher didn't even own a television. Because cartoons and comics and fun weren't constructive. Shinji again lamented being out of his depth regarding peer interests. At least Kensuke and Toji let him stumble blindly along without too much grief. The disdain from Nozomi was palpable.

"Geez," she went on. "Educate yourself. At least turn on the TV. Channel seven runs a classic mecha Monday ever since the robot fight last month. Kind of tasteless, but Sakura loves it. She keeps wondering what kind of pilot he might be. She was thrilled when she heard he was actually a teenager, like one of her shows."

"Thrilled?" Shinji dared. "Isn't she angry? At the pilot?"

Nozomi sputtered through a laugh. "Oh, no. She wants to marry him. I cannot tell you how excited she is at knowing somewhere in this city is a teen mecha pilot defending it from aliens or whatever." She paused. "Hey. You're a teenager. Do you know the pilot boy?"

"Uh…" Did Toji know his hospitalized younger sister wanted to propose to Shinji? He imagined a busted leg would be a lucky outcome. "… I know of him."

"You are no help." She remembered the candy she still held. "Just kidding. You bought these. Sakura will like it. Thanks, mister." She hopped off the bench.

"You're welcome." I guess. "And you?"

"Me what?"

"Are you happy with yours?" he asked.

"Yes." A simple word, spoken with a zealot's fervor.

"Oh."

Nozomi saw a disbeliever. Time to proselytize. "Yes, as you can see," she began, proudly displaying the vividly colorful candy bar like a trophy she earned and did not beg for in public, "Cute Sparkle Resistance Corps, or CuSpaReCo, may appear nothing more than another seasonal magical girl show with heaps of merchandise, but you would be sorely mistaken. Beneath its twinkly exterior lies depth and meaning. Even the shadowy government conspiracies and monsters from beyond the moon are mere window dressing. CuSpaReCo speaks to you, personally, asking, not telling, to look within your own heart to summon the bravery to be good in a world of bad. It's about finding your own power, what makes you special. And then making yourself better with it, to help yourself and others."

A glimmer of understanding flickered across Shinji. Nozomi was too far gone to notice.

"While wearing cool clothes and battling the forces of evil and social conformity with zappy lasers and animal-themed weapons. And this," she declared, holding the candy aloft in the hazy late afternoon sun, "is a super rare, one-in-five thousand units shipped, tie-in treasure. You simply don't see this every day."

"Um, wow," he politely acknowledged.

"I know, right?" She appraised his level of faith, saw it to be lacking a degree or two. "You've been cool today, mister."

I have? he wondered.

"So I'll let you see me unwrap it."

She sat back on the bench, waiting for recognition of her generous boon.

He looked at her. "Why?"

"Because it is important! Just like how Aoi looked inside herself last episode to discover her spirit guardian was not an aardvark (Kagerou lied to her from the very start! Can you believe it?!), but was actually a tiger! And she was able to overcome Shimizu's evil plot to steal the world's bee population! Even without Anzu coming to the rescue, like always!"

He looked at her. "Why?"

Nozomi groaned. "Just watch, okay?"

She set the candy bar on her lap. With a veteran brain surgeon's level of focus and skill she made a small incision in the top of the wrapper with her fingernail, then delicately ran it down the back. It opened like a flower. The candy was unnaturally pink, speckled with diamonds of sugar winking afternoon sunlight. Behind it was a slim trading card, a lenticular rectangle displaying a young girl in a fanciful outfit of frills and ruffles holding a staff with an elephant nose.

"Oh," Nozomi said. "It's Yuka. Again." She noticed Shinji's confusion. "I have, like, four of her."

So I bought it for nothing? he silently outraged.

She took her disappointment in stride, reminding herself she spent exactly zero yen on it. She turned to Shinji. "Here, mister. You can have it."

She held the card out to him, casually charitable. He tried to be diplomatic about it.

"Um… Why not give it to Ms. Sakura?"

Nozomi squinted at him. Then brightened. "You're right! Yuka's an oddball, too. And Sakura could at least trade it. The hospital black market is something else these days."

She hopped off the bench. He stood with her and recalled why he was out at the mart to begin with. Misato would not easily forgive him forgetting to complete the list she dictated. Something about Lieutenant Hyuga being out sick. It was a disturbing thought, that part of that man's duties entailed grocery shopping for the Captain. Shinji had trouble believing it was in an official capacity.

He parted with Nozomi, offering a smile to her. Knowing Sakura was still injured in the hospital skated his breakdown point. But knowing she did not harbor any ill will towards him was truly uplifting. Granted, he had to ignore the whole marriage-in-waiting thing, but he was getting good at compartmentalizing his life in Tokyo-3. Sakura was hurt, but okay. He was hurt, but maybe one day would be okay, too. He entered the convenience mart, the NERV debit card in his pocket a little less heavy.

Nozomi watched him go. She nodded sagely. He might make a decent husband for Hikari one day, after all.

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Next chapter: Still negative penguins, a shadow of plug suits.