Plug Suits and Penguins

/\/\/\/\

Chapter 10: Asuka! Strikes! People! Metaphorically!

/\/\/\/\

They looked up to her. Inevitably figuratively, and currently literally, as she stood before them at the head of class 2-A and they were all seated. Except that one kid who accompanied the Third on the Over the Rainbow. He was all but atop his desk, making faces and indecipherable noises at her. Outwardly her smile held, unshakable, faultless. Inwardly she casually plotted bloodshed.

"Hi! I'm Asuka Langley Soryu! Pleased to meet you all!"

Which was, technically, a lie. Not that any of them could tell. Figuratively or literally. Her acting skills were world-class, all but wasted on these Tokyo-3 children. And even if someone could detect the deception who would believe it?

The boy in the back was still being loud. The one with glasses was recording her, on the sly, or so he thought. That information was tagged and catalogued for future destructive purposes. And between them, the Third looked resigned. Like her grand entrance into his bland everyday life was no more interesting than a hiccup in the weather forecast. That information was tagged and catalogued for future destructive purposes.

"Suzuhara!" a pigtailed girl ordered, standing up and taking charge since their teacher seemed here in body but not spirit or mind. "Sit down and behave this instant!"

The boy did neither in that instant. Asuka did note the Third trying to pull Suzuhara down into his seat by his track suit sleeve. Tagged, catalogued, destruction.

"What do you mean she's in our class!?" he spat, finally forming his noise into something that passed for language.

"Such a small world, right?" Asuka enthused. "What are the odds?"

What were the odds of all three active Children situated in the exact same classroom? Gee, NERV. Way to be subtle about it.

Asuka glanced at the other Child, the First, at a desk by the windows. Staring out into bright, sunny sky. Good. She looked like she could use some vitamin D. Also, how dare there be Children before her. Or after her. She was all the world needed. And yet, the world kept begging for reminders, for proof of her superiority. As if piloting a giant robot wasn't enough.

Actually, it wasn't. The First and Third piloted. Kind of. But that was it. Were they college graduates by age thirteen? Could they speak five languages? Could they flawlessly belt out every line to Ninety-Nine Luftballons at karaoke night and look super hot while doing it? Heck, no.

She silently sighed, watching the Third physically drag the Suzuhara kid out of the room as Glasses recorded while Pigtails pled for decorum. And the First was there, too. What disappointing extras crowding her on the stage.

Asuka took a seat amid a gentle but persistent buzz of excitement from the other students. Expected. She bore the public wonderment with a calm, benevolent air. Pigtails had to poke the teacher, lost to time, in the arm with a pencil to summon him back to reality.

Classes began. Classes ended. The Third and the other one wandered back in at some point. Asuka could feel the scowl plastered on the latter's face boring into the back of her head. She'd need to shampoo twice tonight.

The bell rang for lunch, acting as a pressure valve. Students swarmed around her desk, faces filled with awe and curiosity and admiration and barely restrained jealousy and she was pretty sure that guy on the left had the flu or something. They pelted her with questions. Come see ringmaster Soryu, tame and subjugate the rowdy, uncouth circus of class 2-A! She answered, politely and perfectly.

"No." Really, yes.

"Yes." Really, no.

"Lilac." Anything but lilac.

"Mozart." Rammstein.

"Forty-seven and a half." Zero.

"I said, no." Yes.

Etcetera, etcetera. But they kept asking. And she had to keep answering. Instead of kicking them all in the teeth. Feeding their collective inane search for vicarious greatness. Like some scraps of her awesomeness might fall onto them somehow. All these kiddos, so easily excitable, like chickens with their heads lopped off. Her hopes they might learn from her example were fading fast. She'd have to bear it, like always. Was it her fault she was born in new game plus while everyone else was fumbling around the tutorial level?

Asuka glanced back at the Third, idly wondering if he ever had to deal with similar. Well, to a lesser extent, since he was so not proper Child material.

She took notice. Pigtails had pulled him aside, smiling and offering a small bow of gratitude. Most likely for ushering Suzuhara out earlier. Asuka hummed.

A female student stepped in her line of sight in a completely not rudely intrusive manner. "Hey! Do you have a boyfriend?"

She was pretty sure she addressed that already. It was getting tricky to cross-reference and coordinate the lies. "No," she replied. Which was, technically, a technical lie. Mr. Kaji was the hard-to-get type. But the challenge was part of the fun.

What was not fun was the flu-stricken boy, perhaps in a bout of feverish delirium, taking that as an invitation to ask her out on a date.

Asuka was working on the necessary social tact to turn down his snot-encrusted sleeved charms and not simply punt him out the second-story window, when Pigtails interceded.

"Alright, enough excitement," Hikari announced, physically dispersing the mob. "Give the transfer some space."

The crowd hemmed and hawed but obeyed, and melted back into the scenery. Even flu-boy, who sniffled his way out of sight and existence as far as Asuka was concerned.

"I'm sorry," Hikari was telling her with another bow. "Transfers are kind of a rarity around here. The other students see something new and go a little bonkers."

She spoke like a longsuffering mother apologizing for her menagerie of unemployed grown children stinking up her basement. There was love there, sure, but a lot of disappointment, too.

"So you're in charge here."

"Um, well, not really. I'm just a class representative and that entails—"

"So you're in charge here."

"Oh, um. I suppose? In a way?"

Asuka appraised her. "We should be friends."

Hikari felt a mild whiplash. She was pretty sure that just skipped several critical interpersonal relationship steps. There was also the wide, cavernous social power gap between them. She, a diligent and oft-disparaged disciplinarian, and her, a mysterious new transfer from abroad who just happened to pilot a giant robot. Maybe it was simply culture shock. Maybe Soryu did not fully grasp the intrinsic hierarchy of Japanese middle school life, with class representatives firmly at the bottom of the popularity totem pole. Underground, even.

And yet, generously given the time to rescind the offer, Asuka just waited for an answer. Albeit with an impatient twitch of her right eyebrow.

Hopeful greed got the better of Hikari. "I, uh… Really?"

"Sure."

"Oh. Okay."

Achievement unlocked: New Bestie

"… Do you want to eat lunch together?" Hikari posed. That's what friends did, right? She saw enough TV dramas to feel that was in the ballpark of expected behavior.

"Sure."

Homerun!

"What are we having?" Asuka asked.

"Oh," Hikari said. "Uh, w-we could share mine. I brought lunch from home."

"Sure."

She did her best not to skip to her desk, retrieve her bento, and float back. She blindly grabbed someone's chair and sat across from Asuka. Things were happening quickly. Almost at a frightening pace. But Hikari was too excited to feel anxiety. A step forward into the unknown, even on dizzy numb feet.

She opened her bento, each compartment densely packed with carefully crafted nutrition, albeit on a tight schedule and budget. Nothing terribly fancy or exotic. Nothing to commemorate a first meal together as friends. Hikari's cheer dimmed a watt or two.

Asuka looked the lunch over, somewhat disappointed at the meager quantities available. Kaji did warn her about that. She plucked up the pair of chopsticks attached to the lid, separated them, and offered one to Hikari.

"Thanks for the meal."

They ate. They ate slowly. Using the halved chopsticks like inefficient spears, and rakes, and shovels.

Asuka hummed around a line of rice she managed onto her stick. "Not bad."

Hikari gripped her chair to keep from soaring away. "Really?"

After subsisting on galley slop from the UN for way, way too long, sure. This could be not bad. Her taste buds were a bit out of practice. And still recovering from that farewell dinner Kaji tried to make back in Germany. The man had many talents; food preparation was not one of them. He made the UN meal plan look less abhorrent.

So, yeah. "Not bad."

"I'm glad," Hikari said. "But it's nice to hear any kind of feedback." She counted a successful meal as one Kodama stayed awake through and Nozomi did not mindlessly inhale in front of the TV. Such was her lot. Praise, even mild, indirect praise, was manna from heaven.

Asuka made a noise, which may have been assent to keep talking or pre-indigestion.

Hikari took it as assent to keep talking. "I don't consider myself much of a chef, but somebody has to do it. Not that I hate it, but it never came easily. Not like some people."

Her eyes drifted unconsciously to Shinji and his magical bento of scrumptiousness. Asuka triangulated the direction.

"So," she said. "You know the Third pretty well."

"Who?"

"Ikari."

"Oh. Um, kind of? He transferred in a few months ago. We've delivered each other some homework and…"

And a lot of the related events felt secret. Not in a shameful way, but like a sacred trust between them that didn't invite outside eyes and ears. But she wasn't sure how to convey any of that without conveying all of that.

"… And I'm still getting to know him."

"What do you think of him?"

Hikari could count the number of men she regularly conversed with outside an official capacity as class rep on one hand. On half of one hand. Okay, on two fingers. Dad, who she supposed qualified sometimes, and Shinji. So, it was still a novel experience. Put on the spot, asked to render judgment, she politely deflected.

"I think my opinion might not be very accurate. Um, what do you think of him?"

Asuka issued a dismissive scoff. "He's boring." He didn't even try to peek at her when they were changing into the plug suits on that dumb boat the other day. Not that she wanted him to. It was the principle. He seemed wholly unimpressed by her radiantly shining beauty and talent. Weirdo.

Hikari stared at her. Boring? Shinji? Ikari? The teenage mecha pilot with a pet penguin? Him? Boring?

No, Asuka amended, not just boring. Distracted. The Third was not present on the Over the Rainbow. He looked at her, but didn't see her. Like he had better places to be than in her company. Like his self had already been claimed.

She glanced up at Hikari across the span of a school desk.

Lunch period ended. Classes resumed. Classes concluded. The final bell rang, finishing off the school day. The other students oozed out. Asuka spied the First leave without so much as a glance in her direction. The Third was dragged away by the other two boys who mumbled vague plots and schemes in her general direction.

Fine. The table was set. She'd be serving up a banquet of humiliation to them soon enough. More than they could stomach. They'd be humbled, cast aside. And she'd beat every other Angel on her own and everyone would belatedly realize she was no mere child, that she was all they ever needed.

Speaking of which. Asuka opened her school satchel and fished out her phone. No new messages.

Well, of course Mr. Kaji didn't contact her on the first day of school. What was she, a baby? She didn't need a mollycoddling protector hovering over her. She didn't need anybody.

She double-checked her voicemail. Still nothing.

Asuka tossed the phone back into her satchel. Where was an Angel to knife when she wanted one?

"Soryu?"

She glanced up. Hikari was inching up to her side, looking uncertain.

"Um," she began, "did you want to walk home together? Or, or at least out to the gates? Uh, I never asked where you lived so we might be going in opposite directions but I don't mind so…"

"Sure."

"…even if it's like a mile or two, wait. What? Really?"

"Sure."

"Great!"

Hikari's house was in a cramped residential jigsaw on the way out to the valley rim, necessitating two tram rides and a few blocks by foot after. She was already daydreaming about the commute home with a companion. Asuka decided against immediately telling her she was currently stationed in the Geofront, meaning they'd part ways at the first train depot. Let her hope a moment longer.

Asuka rose and grabbed her satchel, forgetting it was still open. Her phone and another item fell out onto her empty seat with a dull thud.

"Oh, let me," Hikari pounced, eager to be helpful. She paused. She stared. "Is that…?"

She nearly dropped where she stood. She bent over awkwardly, fingers trying to capture the immense, unexpected awe of the treasure in her sights.

"Is that a GamePod? A Fire Crimson edition GamePod? A limited run Euro Zone Fire Crimson edition GamePod?"

Asuka, momentarily thrown, nodded at the handheld game system. "You… know it?"

"Know it?!" she exclaimed. "I know there was only two thousand made before the manufacturer realized the Euro Zone edition was accidentally made region-free and they pulled the plug on the whole operation. It was a huge debacle. National governments got involved. To see one in person, not just in some magazine… Wow!" She forced her eyes up to Asuka. "How did you find one?"

A months, nay, years long expedition carried out in secret as she shuttled between NERV branches, paying off UN grunts and low-ranking political and military aides to ensure silence. Painstaking research, in-person and even delving into the seedy underbelly of the online world, to track down the ultra-rare and wildly expensive computer entertainment oddity. Yes, there were dead-ends and red herrings along the way, like she was in some gritty dime store noir crime serial. But she endured. Working tirelessly as in all things she did, to grasp victory.

So of course Kaji caught wind of it somehow and tracked down a copy for her in a matter of days. Happy twelfth birthday, Asuka. Gee, thanks a bunch. Anticlimactic, but it was the thought that counted. Right? Sure. All her anguish and angst and hard work and money spent down the noise holes of countless anonymous living NPCs, for naught.

Asuka shrugged. "No big deal." Which was, technically, not a lie as far as she knew. Kaji was scary connected.

"Wow," Hikari said again. Both that her new friend had one, and thought nothing of it. It spoke of ability and sophistication. "That is so cool."

"… Do you want it?"

"What?"

So of course Asuka hadn't given up on getting one for herself. Not that she hated the one Kaji found for her. She just hated the idea of unearned wins. It was like a cheat code. The result might be the same but there was no skill attached to it.

"R-Really?"

"Sure."

"I… I couldn't. Could I? No, of course not." Hikari was desperate to cast this self-argument away and return to the proper, expected etiquette. She stood up to put some distance between her and it. "I have the regular Forest Green version. I'm okay. Uh, uh, but thank you so much for the offer!"

She bowed yet again. This girl was going to throw her back out with all that politeness.

"Suit yourself," Asuka replied. She replaced the system and her phone in her satchel. As Hikari watched and all but bit through her tongue.

She didn't consider herself an avid gamer. She hardly had the free time for any hobby. But video games were a measure of control over her own life she had access to. Stuck on a difficult level? Take a break or grind experience points. Tired of Nozomi blaring the TV to be heard over Kodama's thumping stereo? Plug in a pair of ear buds and get lost in some chiptunes. Lose? Start over. In a game, dying wasn't cause for despair or existential crisis. She just had to reload the last save.

Finding a kindred spirit in Asuka, even by accident, even if their motivations didn't exactly align, was celebratory.

"What kind of games do you like?" she asked.

"I'm not too picky," Asuka answered. Except mech games. They were all totally inaccurate.

"Have you played The Mystery of Sapphire Ocean?"

"The submarine game?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Again, somewhat inaccurate as to actual undersea battle, as she very recently learned, but an amusing diversion. "It's not bad."

"I'm stuck on the giant squid boss. Did you beat it?"

Of course. "Of course."

"How?"

"Go into the cave the squid appears from. Use it to avoid its attacks. Just keep ducking out to torpedo it to death." Which was one tactic. Not flashy or exciting. But Asuka could see Hikari mentally taking notes.

"I see, I see," she said, already budgeting her time at home to give it a shot and report back.

They left the classroom, out into the hall. It was a rarity to be anything but exhausted at the end of school. Hikari was absolutely buoyant. She turned to her new friend, all smiles.

"Thank you so much—"

She backed into something. Someone. Three someones.

"Ugh!" one of the someones grunted, making the simple utterance sound righteously affronted.

"Sorry—" Hikari began, barely finishing the first syllable.

"Horaki."

Kotori, Michiru and Karen, three of the more socially conscious middle schoolers from class 2-B next door. Or, as they referred to themselves, "Too Best." Which almost made some sense.

"Go~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~d," Kotori dragged the word out into next week. "Why are you here?" As in, currently breathing in the same prefecture. "No, I don't care. Just scram. School's out. Your powers are meaningless now. You're meaningless. Always."

The other two filled the hall with giggles, propping up the alpha. Hikari's cheer retracted and she politely made way. Her smile thinned into a shield.

"Gah!" one of the other girls cried, pointing. Karen, maybe. "It's her!"

"Gah!" the other shrieked. Perhaps Michiru this time. "It's Asuka Langley Soryu!"

A reputation preceded her, apparently. Asuka entered the hallway and was flocked by the trio who displaced Hikari, who calmly accepted it.

"OhmyGo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~d," Kotori stretched, rack-like, across the meager span separating her from the new transfer. "Like, wow! In person! Hey, she's way prettier than you said, Karen."

"I never—"

"Hey! Wanna hang out? Hit the mall? I have a permanently reserved karaoke room. You know about karaoke, right? Of course you do! Oh my Go~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

Asuka glanced at Hikari. Hikari glanced back.

"Hmm?" Kotori noticed Hikari existing. "Ew. Why are you still here? I told you to scram. We're talking. About fun. Not that you'd understand."

"What would a class rep have fun with?"

"Probably something dumb."

"And boring."

"Like how hard to obey school rules."

"Or the proper angle to bow in the morning."

The trio cackled.

"Imagine enjoying something conventional," Asuka said.

"I know!"

"Like how you enjoy retro fashion."

That killed the mood dead. The girls looked like they had been shivved, and stared in mute shock.

"… Retro?" Kotori managed to begin, relearning how to speak.

"Yeah," Asuka said easily. "The bleach-dyed hair, caked mascara and twinkly lip gloss. So two seasons ago in Europe. But hey, your commitment to passé trends is something, I guess."

The girls looked among themselves. While there was indeed a delay in the publication of their magazines in regards to current ins and outs of the fashion world, they didn't think they were that far behind. But Asuka spoke with casual authority, and she did just arrive from Europe, and she was super pretty, and already was a sustained topic of breathless conversation around campus. Surely, she knew best.

"What is in style right now?" Kotori asked, trying to reclaim a note of confidence.

Asuka stared at them a moment. "Pigtails."

"… Oh. Th-thank you, Asuka."

"Call me Soryu."

The group shambled away, somehow able to stay on their feet after the multiple headshots.

Asuka sighed. "You have to deal with idiots like that all the time?"

"Not all the time." Most of the time. Hikari regained her smile. "Thank you, Soryu."

"Call me Asuka. It'll be easier."

Which was, technically, not a lie.

/\/\/\/\

Wark warker: Wark, warked wark warking wark. Wark wark.