Characters and situations of Neon Genesis Evangelion and Ranma ½ belong to their respective creators and publishers. I am merely borrowing them for this work of non-profit fanfiction.
Thanks kindly to Suika Roberts for reading and advice.
********************
Katsuragi Misato watched from the window as her housemate walked down the street. At this range he was a tiny figure, recognisable only by his erect stance, firm stride, and solid black clothing. There were few people on the sidewalk, but they gave him room; in a city more heavily populated than Tokyo-3 he would have been clearly marked out by the bubble of space around him. This was a man whose every action proclaimed him a warrior.
A boy, she reminded herself. A fourteen-year-old boy, whose father abandoned him to be raised by some strange little clutch of martial arts freaks. She had seen a solitary tear drip from his eye yesterday, looking out over the city they defended. A tear. Boys cry...
And so do men. Strong, vital, desperately hurt men, who need love to make them whole... Stop it, Misato. This isn't an anime character, this is a real person. A real person who is under your command and guardianship. A real person who is half your age. Not your all favourite pilots from Gundam Wing rolled into one magnificent brooding whole. Not a fiction you can safely have a crush on, and not a man you can court.
She reached for her binoculars. Military reasons. I'm supposed to be observing him. No, I just want to watch his shoulders and rear and that marvelous braid of hair... Stop it, Misato. She was grateful when he turned out of sight.
She took out her journal and began to write.
Sunny. Then again, it's always sunny this time of year.
Subject's just left for his first day of school. Bet some
hearts will be fluttering. Lucky kids.
In my opinion, he is cute. Make that beautiful. I wish he
weren't so dour, though. I bet he has a gorgeous smile. I keep
thinking about ways to make him smile. Telling jokes. Teaching
Pen-pen tricks. Showing up naked in the living room while he's
reading one of those ancient Chinese books and tickling him.
Yeah, right. I'm terrible with jokes, and I can't even get
Pen-pen to sit or heel. I'm sure I could never wear a stitch of
clothing and he'd treat me exactly the same. "More tea, Captain?"
"As your junior, I would be happy to cook tonight, Captain." And
as to tickling, he probably wouldn't even feel my fingers.
She looked down at the page and ripped it out of the notebook.
*****
Horaki Hikari scanned the memo another time. A new student? That doesn't make sense. People don't move to Tokyo-3 anymore. She sighed inwardly, laying the note back on her desk. It was addressed to Sensei, as always, but he hadn't even read it before handing it to her. Poor old man. He hardly ever talked about anything save Second Impact, as if that one event months before her birth was the only thing in all the world that mattered.
There was someone in the door. A man, lean and hard, dressed in black, inhumanly graceful.
"Excuse me, sir, do you have business here?" Hikari couldn't imagine why someone hadn't stopped the stranger earlier. Perhaps he's a new teacher? But he looks like a soldier...
"Yes. My name is Ikari Shinji, and I believe this to be my new class?"
This is our classmate? But surely...he can't be our age... "Ah, well, yes. Ah, Ikari-s...kun, are you aware..." She met his eyes, and forgot about asking him why he wasn't wearing a uniform. They were glossy, expressionless, dark brown. Warrior eyes, half watching her, half staring through her to the horizon. Yet there was depth, and a hint of hidden warmth... She shook herself slightly. "...that new students are expected to introduce themselves to the class?"
"Naturally."
"I... I'm Horaki Hikari."
"Enchante, Horaki-san." He bowed, and walked to the blackboard, chalked his name in swift calligraphic strokes. Hikari forgot about returning to her seat, being far too absorbed by the enticing movement of a long brown queue and the black-clad rear end it reached. Nine-tenths of the female and at least a tenth of the male eyes in the room were watching the same thing.
*****
Misato flipped through Shinji's dossier again. Born 12 September 2001. Mother deceased in research accident, December 2004. Fostered in Kyoto with maternal third cousin once removed Kunou Kodachi and her domestic partner Li Shan Pu, February 2005.
Nothing I haven't seen before. Just names and numbers. Shinji, what makes you you? She'd wondered at his stolidness when they first met, and thought his guardians might be cruel, or at least indifferent, until they rang. She'd heard him talking through the thin walls, and he'd sounded positively happy, as much as she could tell, given that he was speaking Chinese. Is that their home language, or were they trying to keep me from listening?
His school records didn't say much either. Highest marks in literature, especially classics, and physical education. Decent marks in sciences, and although his maths marks were indifferent at the beginning they had risen dramatically between his first and second years of schooling. An operative's note suggested this to be the result of tutoring by his guardians' sister-in-law Tendou Nabiki, the noted financiere.
Wait a second. There's a gap in his schooling. 2010 through '12. It says he was in China with his guardians, and attending school in Li Shan Pu's ancestral village. But there's no record. Surely his school in Kyoto would have asked for something... His performance hadn't dropped, despite the gap. In fact, he'd shown an astronomical improvement in physical education, from merely the best in the class to an unnaturally high level of ability. Shinji-kun, what were you really doing in China?
*****
No one could talk about anything save the new boy. "I bet he's a secret agent."
"Oh, come on."
"No, seriously. He's probably here to protect our school from terrorists. I saw it in a movie."
"I think he's an undercover cop."
"Nonsense. He's just a martial arts freak. My ma and da went to school with a whole bunch of them, some place called Furinkan High-- I think it's under the bay now."
"My da said the pilot of that giant robot would be going to our school. I bet he's the one!"
"So, Hikari-chan, what do you think?"
"Mayuka-chan?"
"About the new guy. Is he cute, or what?"
Hikari sighed. "Cute. There's no denying it."
"You interested?"
"No."
"Why not?" Her eyelids fluttered. "Just look at those lips. He's got to be a good kisser."
"Right. I'd have to beat off half a dozen girls just to get near him."
"But Hikari-chan, he said he was enchanted with you, didn't he?"
Hikari sighed. May'-chan's really sweet, but dear gods she's dense sometimes. "That's just a word some people say. It's the next step up from 'pleased to meet you.' You saw what his handwriting's like-- he probably says that to every girl he meets. Old-fashioned, you know?" Her blank look showed that she didn't.
"Besides," Hikari continued, "he's too much like a character in a shoujo manga. I like comfortable guys."
"Comfortable? Like anyone we know?" Mayuka giggled.
"None of your business, May'-chan."
*****
"Well, Shin-chan, how was your day?" I bet he'll loosen up if I keep calling him that.
"Good enough, thank you, Captain. More rice?"
"No, thanks, I'm fine for the moment. Really, what happened?"
"Very little."
"All the girls are chasing you, aren't they, Shin-chan?"
"Not that I noticed, Captain."
"Shin-chan. Don't call me that. I'm Misato, remember?" She cudgeled her brains for the old military phrase she'd learned in the two month Gehirn OCS. "We're off duty, and 'there's no rank in the mess,' right?"
"Yes, Misato-san." Damn it, he makes my name sound just like 'Captain.' Maybe I should tell him to call me Mi-chan... No, too much like Kaji. And Daddy.
*****
"Ummm, excuse me?" the blonde girl said.
Shinji laid down his copy of Shi Jing. "Yes?"
"Ah... is it true what they say?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow..."
"About you. That you're the pilot of that robot," her dark-haired companion filled in.
"It is." Suddenly he was surrounded by at least three quarters of the class.
"Yes! I knew it."
"Oh my, I'm so impressed..."
"How'd they pick you?"
"Were you frightened?"
"Does it have a special attack?"
He cleared his throat. "I have no idea how I was chosen. I was no more or less frightened than I've been in any other fight. And there's no such thing as a special attack, only the attack that works in the given situation."
"Wow."
"He's been in fights before!"
"I told you he was really from the army."
"He's so handsome!"
"I want to date with him!"
"What was that monster?"
"Some country's secret weapon?"
"I have no idea. It was called an 'Angel,' but I was not informed as to its origin."
"Ya don't know nothin', do ya? What are ya, stupid?" The speaker was tall and broad-shouldered for his age, dressed in a tracksuit, his speech thick with the accent of Osaka.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Suzuhara-kun!" piped the class representative. "You missed an entire week of school without permission."
"It ain't none of yer concern!" He shoved an empty desk out of his way as he stomped towards Shinji's seat.
A slight boy with glasses caught his arm. "Touji-kun! No! He's some kind of military operative-- he could blow your head off here and now, and they wouldn't even charge him." The Osakan shook his friend off, leaving him babbling something about "execution by special administrative procedure."
"New kid! Step outside. Now!"
The greater part of the class followed them outside, murmuring excitedly among themselves. "He's going to kill him."
"With one blow, before Suzuhara even touches him."
"Nah, Suzuhara'll get one punch in."
"Two."
"Want to put money on it?"
"Don't be ridiculous-- the new guy'll let him live. Just break his arms and legs or something."
The babble was irritating. Shinji raised his hand, and the crowd-noise cut off sharply. "Now, then. You've something to say to me?"
"Yeah. My younger sister, she was hurt bad-- pinned under rubble. An' you know what? It's your fault. 'Cause you had to go crashing around with that damn' robot!"
"I am very sorry."
"You tryin' to make fun or somethin'? 'Cause sorry don't cut it."
"There's nothing more I can say. I wish I had been more experienced in the Evangelion unit, but I was not. Many things happen in battle which we later regret."
"You know what? My pa 'n gramps both work in your lab. So I'm the only one can stay wit' her. It's not that I mind the time or anythin', but what if she gets some kinda scar? She'll never be a babe."
"The most beautiful woman I've ever known has scars over half her face."
"Who's that? Queen Emereldas?"
"My foster mother."
"Don't think you're so hot, just 'cause they're all over ya."
"I would never dream of thinking such a thing."
Suzuhara stepped closer and brandished his fist beneath Shinji's nose. He blinked and backed off slightly when the slighter boy failed to flinch. "Would it make you feel better to hit me?"
"You makin' fun of me?"
"I'll give you one clear shot."
The Osakan drew his fist back to his ear, then lashed out with a cross to the jaw. "Damn," he said, rubbing his knuckles. Shinji stood as if nothing had happened. "C'mon, new kid, ain't you gonna fight?"
"No."
Suzuhara cocked his fist. Shinji sighed. "One blow, I said."
"Then put up your hands and fight, damn it!"
Shinji reached out blurring swift and tapped his opponent lightly on the shoulder. The arm fell limp. "What the hell did you do?"
"Just a pressure point. You'll recover full use in three hours." He turned his back and returned to the classroom, leaving behind both multiple arguments-- mostly over the definitions of "fight" and "blow"-- and the formative meeting of the Ikari Shinji Fan Club.
*****
Misato sighed and turned away from the monitor. I almost wish I could have seen him in action. He must be beautiful... but no, he would have finished that clumsy boy in seconds.
Shin-chan got into a confrontation at school today. Settled
it without any bloodshed-- some kind of trick with pressure points.
He moves so fast when he wants to.
Mmmmm. The swing of that braid. I guess I've always had
a hair fetish, haven't I? I keep hoping I'll walk in on him with it
loose some night or morning. Isn't that pathetic? I had a dream
last night where I ordered him to let me brush and plait it. And the
thing is, I probably could. I think if I told him to come in
the shower and scrub my back, he'd do it without a word of
argument.
Hmmmm, now there's an idea. I bet he gives great rubdowns, too.
No, damn it, he's fourteen years old. Sure, that's the age of consent in
this prefecture, but he's under my command. It wouldn't be right.
Shin-chan, what happened to you? Why do you act like some kind of
samurai? I wish you'd be more like a child, sometimes, just to remind
me that I can't...
She stopped writing. Feck. Another page to shred.
*****
"Well, roomie, how goes it?"
"I'm not fully satisfied with my control of the basic movements."
"Shinji-kun," Ritsuko broke in, "you're already further along than our best pilot."
"Irrelevant. In battle, the difference between life and death is measured in millimeters."
"Don't be so gloomy, Shin-chan."
"While I accept my own fate, Misato-san, the lives of civilians are at risk whenever the Evangelion unit is launched."
"You know, I was actually asking about school."
"Acceptable."
"Huh?"
"It is acceptable. The history curriculum seems over-absorbed with certain events in the recent past, and in literature there is excessive emphasis on the contemporary..."
"The two of you can chat later. Are you ready for today's training?"
"Exit gates, emergency power sources, armament buildings, and recovery sites."
"You have them all memorised?"
"Yes."
"We'll pick up from where we let off yesterday. Start induction mode."
He didn't bother to speak. As the first target cleared its housing, a single slug hammered precisely through its center of mass. The same for the second, and the third...
"Doctrine calls for three round bursts, Shin-chan."
"Single shots seem to suffice, Misato-san."
"These are targets, not Angels."
"Very well." The next took a quick burst,
"Kami-sama, his groups are tight."
"Misato?"
"Look. You can barely distinguish the one he hit with a burst from the one he hit with a single round."
"So?"
"He's some kind of incredible shot, Ritsuko."
"Oh. Turning into a gun otaku, are you?"
"No, it's just..."
"Why are you so surprised? We already know Shinji-kun's a military genius."
"I didn't think he liked guns."
"What does liking have to do with it?"
*****
"I'm home!"
She was bathing. I'll pretend I didn't hear him. "Ohhhhh. A shower at the end of a long day. Nothing could be better." Except a shower that's shared. Wouldn't it be nice if somebody took advantage of that open door? Stop it, Misato, you're being a pervert.
"I bought dinner," he added, behaving as if he hadn't heard her voice. She heard his footsteps in the kitchen.
Now why did I just do that? Silly Misato, you wanted to play with his head. Why? Because you're a perv. Stop talking to yourself.
When she left the bathroom, dressed in her favourite short shorts and star-printed low-cut top, he was sitting on the floor with her penguin. Petting him? And feeding him dried octopus? I guess he does have a soft side, after all. "I didn't know you liked Pen-pen."
"I am fond of animals. They're much more honest than humans."
"Shin-chan, is something wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You've been down all afternoon. What's happening?" He didn't say anything. "It's all right, I won't tell anyone else." More silence. She knelt beside him. "Please. Is it something I did?"
"No."
"Is it something at school?"
"No."
"Is it the Eva?"
"Perhaps."
"Please, Shinji, I need to know. Military necessity."
"Very well. I... dislike fighting in the unit."
"Don't tell me you could take an Angel without one." I'm serious. Don't. If you did, I would have to believe you, and that would frighten me.
"No. That's the problem. Such a massive, hulking, indiscriminate creature... how many innocent lives can it take?"
"Shinji, I swear that we will never use the Evangelion units against human beings. On my parents' ashes, kami be my witnesses all." She clapped her hands three times.
"Thank you, Misato-san, but I am talking about accidental casualties. 'Collateral damage' is the term, I believe. How many mothers, old people, little girls might be killed because I or another pilot cannot fully control one of your constructions?" That boy this morning said something about his little sister. Is that what's gotten into Shinji?
She laid her hand on his shoulder, silently asking him to turn the gesture into an embrace. For both our sakes, Shin-chan. "How people many might die if you didn't go out in the Eva?"
"There's the problem. The curse of the warrior is that we must kill and die that others may live. But at least with swords the dying may be limited to those who have chosen the same path."
It should have sounded fatuous, coming from a teenage boy in 2015, separated by generations from the dueling ground and the battlefield. But she looked into his eyes and saw something in them which said that this was not a quote from a musty text or an overly-romantic sensei, but a truth which had been learned first hand. Shin-chan, what kind of life have you led?
"Excuse me." He rose quickly and entered his room, returning a moment later with a long, thin bag. He left the apartment.
"Going to do forms on the roof, aren't you, Shin-chan?" she mused. He'd dropped a piece of paper on his way out. She couldn't help but glance at it. A florist's receipt. Sweet on someone already? She couldn't resist a closer look. A quite expensive arrangement had been sent anonymously to one Suzuhara Sayuri, in the trauma ward at Tokyo-3 General.
After a little while, she left the apartment and took to the stairs. Moving very slowly, she opened the door to the roof. Don't be silly, she told herself, he'll know you're up here no matter how quiet you are. But somehow the effort of stealth was a comfort to her own nerves.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was silhouetted against the western sky, and had taken off his shirt, revealing whipcord muscles under lightly-tanned skin. He was using a straight cross-hilted Chinese sword, moving with slow elegance. She sat down to watch.
Marvelous, she thought, watching a particularly graceful maneuver. Then a shiver ran through her. That was the shadow of a killing. That lovely smooth foot-sweep took a man's legs out from under him, and as he fell that beautiful glittering sword-arc opened his neck.
She glanced at her watch-- two hours since she'd come out on the roof. The sun had nearly set. How long does he intend on being out here? She sat on the cusp between disturbing him and going down on her own.
He fell back into guard, straightened, and bowed. Still silent and absorbed, he knelt for a moment, wiping the blade with a cloth and returning it to the bag before donning his shirt.
She sat still as he came toward the door. Should I pretend I'm not here?
"Misato-san?" He was holding the door for her.
"Oh. Thanks." Her eyes met his for a moment, and the ghost of a smile passed across his features.
*****
What a strange person. Ikari spent most of the time between lessons reading. As near as Hikari could tell, his tastes leaned towards Tang Dynasty poetry, in the original language, which he seemed to read-- without a lexicon-- as fluently as anyone else might scan a manga.
He didn't talk much, but was unfailingly polite, in a cool fashion. At the moment he was ringed by girls, including her friend Mayuka. And what's scary is that May'-chan is probably the clever one, in that bunch. "So, um, Ikari-kun, what's that you're reading?" one asked, a short pale girl whose name Hikari was having trouble remembering just now. Gosunkugi. Gosunkugi Akane. That's it.
"A poem by Tu Fu." Most of them looked completely blank. "A Chinese poet from a thousand years ago." His eyes lit up slightly. "It's called 'Ballad of the War Carts.'"
"Oh. What's it..."
Mayuka elbowed Gosunkugi in the ribs. "Could you read it to us?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes.
"It's rather long..."
"Just a bit, please?"
"Very well." He launched into a fluent burst of Classical Chinese. "And as near as I can put it into Japanese:
*****
"What'cha doin', Shin-chan?" He had cleared a space on the kitchen table and laid out ink, brush, and rice paper. Calligraphy? A project for school? A love note?
"Writing home."
"Oh." Why doesn't he just use email like a normal person? Or at least a ballpoint?
"Writing is always better with the brush. It brings back good memories."
He was positively loquacious today. Maybe all those girls are drawing him out a bit. "Of school in China?"
"Yes."
Two almost-smiles in as many days. Maybe we are getting somewhere.
*****
Shinji looked out over the peaceful landscape. He was so close to satori he could almost taste it, the mind like the moon on the water, accepting all and judging nothing, the effortless state of grace he had only known in combat. He saw the trees and did not loathe their cloned uniformity; he smelled the air and did not hate the tang of industry. He could feel something off in the distance, and he thought for a moment that he might reach it, understand it, know its alien needs and alien desires and how it fit into the Tao-
"Up on da roof all by his lonesome! Da pitcher of da tragic hero!" The Osakan tended to exaggerate his accent, probably hoping to annoy the urbane pilot. Most days, Shinji found it mildly amusing. This time, however, he forced down a tide of genuine irritation. So close...
"All right, what do you want now?"
The shaggy-haired boy with glasses was there as well, his ever present video camera apparently forgotten in his left hand. He was muttering something under his breath. "Please don't let him pull out a suppressed ten millimeter automatic loaded with subsonic hollowpoint rounds and shoot us both between the eyes..." The pilot's lip quirked ever so slightly.
"Moron! What makes ya think we want anythin' from ya?"
"Pity you're so bored, then. Checking on me for no reason-- it's quite pathetic, really."
"I may not have a reason to be talkin' wit' you, but one thing's f' sure: I hate yer guts!" Suzuhara balled his hand into a fist and held it beneath Shinji's nose.
The pilot shook his head. "You're trying to pick a fight with me. Don't bother."
"I can't stand that hot crap attitude a' yours.."
"I've more important things to do with my time than worry about what you might happen to think."
Suzuhara drew back his fist. Shinji sighed. "You're wide open, do you know that?"
The stairwell door opened. Ayanami stepped out, still bandaged, her arm in a sling. "Ikari-kun? We've just received an emergency call. I'll see you there."
Shinji brushed past Suzuhara as if the blocky boy were a potted plant. "Ayanami-san. May I accompany you?" He opened the door, waved the blue-haired girl through.
*****
The shelter was brightly lit, filled with people. Hikari sat on a cushion among her classmates and tried to ignore their babble. Idle speculation had accompanied such events all her life, dozens of silly drills blown up into alien invasions and Third Impacts.
"Ikari-kun's out there fighting to protect us," Mayuka said worshipfully.
"He's soooo brave," sighed a half-dozen others.
Suzuhara and Aida were up on their feet, leaving their place on the fringe of the cluster of boys that sat nearby, near enough to see the girls without actually having to risk talking with them. Hikari fixed them with her best Class Rep stare. "Where are you going?"
"Ahh, to the gents'," Aida said hastily.
"Well, you'd better hurry it up." What a pair of idiots. Even if they are cute idiots.
*****
"Are you ready, Shinji?"
"Yes, Misato-san." He was dressed in his plugsuit, the skin-tight material showing his muscles to a disconcerting degree. He looks like a hero from a mecha anime. All he needs is a breeze to stir his forelock. One part of her wanted to laugh. Another wanted to throw her arms about him and tell him to come back, or she'd hunt him into the spirit world and beat him to an astral pulp. She pushed them both down.
"No heroics, remember?"
"All is part of the Tao. I surrender myself to the currents of the battlefield."
"Just keep yourself alive, okay? We need your Eva." And I need you.
He dropped into the entry plug without another word. As the metal cylinder slid home, Misato's hand clenched around the cross that hung from her neck. Whoever's listening, keep him safe, please?
*****
"Kensuke, wait up, already! You're goin' too fast."
The young otaku slackened his pace, but only a little. "C'mon, Touji! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity." He reached the top of the hill in one final burst of speed, dropped to one knee in the tall grass.
"Once in a lifetime opportunity is right. We'll probably lose our lifetimes doin' this." The Osakan was breathing hard. Touji-kun may be stronger, but I've got more wind.
"Well, if you hadn't punched Ikari we wouldn't owe him..."
"Punchin' Ikari is like punchin' a wall. Except I think maybe da wall wouldn't hurt y' hand so much. Besides, you're da man wanted to come out an' see da battle."
"There it is!" It was ugly, something like the result of a squid's mating with a centipede. More disconcerting than its appearance was the way it floated a few meters off the ground. Lighter than air? Or does it have antigrav?
"Dat's an Angel? Son of a bitch. Ain't angels supposed to be pretty, wit' long hair an' wings?"
"They just call them that, Touji," Kensuke muttered, aiming his camcorder. This disk is going to be worth a fortune.
"I know dat. I just thought..."
"Never mind! There's the robot!" The blast-door slid down from what looked like a tall building. The towering humanoid figure, spindly and mis-proportioned, dropped into a forward roll, snatching a giant-sized automatic rifle and coming up on one knee to snap off a quick burst before rolling again to another position. "That's got to be at least a fifty millimeter. No way that thing can survive..."
The Angel absorbed the mixed HE and depleted uranium without taking any apparent notice. Ikari surged forward, firing all the while with metronomic regularity before closing to batter the alien being with rifle-butt and feet.
*****
"Yes!" Misato screamed. "Kill it!" She wished for a moment that she were with her housemate, able to fight or die at his side, not hiding here below the surface. Of course, we'll probably be the next target if it does... no, it will not win.
*****
Hikari looked at her watch. Twenty minutes. There's no way those two could take this long. They're up to something.
She made her way across the room. A gray-haired woman sat watching over two small sleeping children, not far from the restrooms. "Excuse me, ma'am," she whispered, "did you see two boys come past here? One of them's skinny, with glasses, and the other's tall and kind of muscular."
"Why, yes, dear. They went that way." She pointed away from the men's room. Towards the exit.
"Thanks, ma'am." Hikari ran for the door. Idiots. If you get yourselves killed, I'm going to hurt you.
*****
"That thing's good."
"Shee-it. I thought Ikari could kill anything on two legs 'thout breakin' a sweat."
"It doesn't have legs, Touji."
"Maybe dat's what's wrong." The combatants were throwing up a massive cloud of dust. They could see only quick flashes of action; the Eva's heels scything towards their target, the Angel's tentacles lashing out blurring-swift, the Eva dodging and striking again.
"Suzuhara! Aida! Come inside at once!"
"Class Rep?"
*****
Shinji was completely immersed in the eternal present, in the perfect warrior's mind, a concentration so complete as to give awareness of all things. Afterward, as always, he would wonder what secrets he had learned in that state, how close he had come to Enlightenment. But now there were only fists and feet and rifle, dancing in the void with the alien's appendages.
There was a blow he could not dodge or absorb. There was only one choice, and he took it without hesitation, springing back and letting the force of the enemy's energy-lash throw him off, towards the hill with the temple atop it...
There were civilians there, he noted dispassionately. Out of their shelters. May Kuan Yin keep them safe, a tiny corner of his mind prayed, while rest modified his landing roll to avoid crushing them.
*****
"Shinji! No!" Misato screamed as the Evangelion hurtled through the air. "Umbilical cable severed! Eva switching to internal battery power! Shinji, you've four minutes and fifty-three seconds. Defeat it, now!" He'd lost the rifle in the confusion. No matter, as her readouts showed it out of ammunition. There wasn't a spare within reach.
*****
The Angel was closing. They would fight here, and anyone on the ground would be killed inevitably in the battle, crushed to death like crickets in a tavern brawl. "No!" he screamed, only half-realising that he was no longer speaking Japanese, but the Tibetan-laced Mandarin of the Qinghai Amazon Free State. "Not again!"
*****
"Get in the plug! Now!" A giant metal cylinder had been extended from the robot's back, and Ikari was hanging out of the hatch, fluid dripping from his bangs.
"What da hell!" Suzuhara exclaimed.
"In here, with me. All of you. Now!"
Aida's face was frozen between two expressions: utter terror and childlike joy. Suzuhara was simply stunned. Hikari took control of the situation. "All right, you morons, do what he says!"
"But.." She grabbed each by the shirt.
*****
"Shinji! You can't let unauthorized civilians into the entry plug!" He wasn't listening. "Don't do this to me! Please?!" No luck. The girl was dragging the two boys towards the waiting hatch. Her computer display told her these were Shinji's fellow students; she ignored it. All that mattered was her housemate, who was not going to die. The universe owed her a debt for its past unkindness; it was not going to deny her a chance to kick Ikari Shinji's rear end. The clock was ticking away on the internal power source.
*****
"But... we'll drown in there."
"Ikari-kun hasn't." She shoved the two boys inside, dropped behind them. Immediately, the hatch closed.
"Don't try to hold your air. The liquid is breathable." the pilot commented, already back in his seat.
"What da..."
"Be quiet."
*****
Ritsuko was screaming behind her. "We're detecting irregularities in the nervous system! It's because he's taken on three foreign bodies! There's noise mixed in with the nerve pulses!" On one level Misato wanted to slap her old friend; on another she wanted to grab hold of her and hug her tight, as the closest convenient substitute for her old teddy bear.
The clock was ticking down. Shin-chan, I hope that in our next incarnation you're the one behind the lines and I'm the warrior. I want you to put you through every bit of this crap... "Retreat, you idiot! Use retrieval route 39-- fall back to the western side of the mountain!"
Ritsuko was screaming something new. "Irregularities are fading! And the internal battery..."
*****
He could feel the disharmony in the Evangelion's nervous system. It grated. He reached out with his chi and took control, damping the three chaotic untrained flows. The power was running down; he reached to heaven and earth for more, opening himself as a conduit. "Time to end this," he muttered, reaching for his one remaining weapon. Blades were always the best choice.
*****
"Hey, uh, Ikari-kun. She's tellin' ya ta fall back..."
Hikari put her hand over his mouth. "Shut up, Suzuhara-kun. Let the man fight."
*****
"Shinji!" she screamed helplessly.
"The progressive knife is drawn!" cried one of the techs.
"Dear gods," Ritsuko muttered, "The power levels are going up. He's got four minutes now!"
The fight was over within ten seconds. Within forty, the Eva's battery levels had dropped to nearly nothing.
*****
The dispassionate fury of battle left him, and he could no longer sustain the great war machine. "Ikari-kun?" Horaki-san's hand was on his shoulder.
"Give me a moment."
"Excuse me?"
He'd spoken in Chinese again. "I'll eject the plug. I'm afraid you'll have to walk home." They climbed out and dropped to the surface; he had barely enough strength left to help Horaki-san down.
The boy with glasses was interspersing coughing up LCL with babbling something about grateful, and tremendous, and thank-you-for-this-once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity. Shinji didn't feel up to following it.
A tilt-rotor with NERV markings screamed in, landing perilously close to the stationary Eva. Misato jumped out before the pilot could extend the boarding ladder, knees bent to take the fall. "You three, get in the 'rotor. Now!" When they were out of sight, she grasped a fistful of plug suit, shoved her face in his. "What in nine hells was the meaning of that, Ikari Shinji?"
"It is the duty of a warrior to preserve the lives of non-combatants."
"Why the hell didn't you retreat when I ordered you to, then?"
"It was necessary to end the fight before further damage could ensue. A prolonged retreat, followed by a counter-attack, might have endangered the area's shelters."
*****
*Smack* She realised a moment after the sound that she had struck him across the face. It felt good. She drew back her hand to slap him again.
Her eyes met his. They were deep, patient. He was making no attempt to evade her blows. He seemed to be saying: go ahead, hit me; as my superior officer, it is your right. She felt sick at heart.
"Oh gods, Shin-chan." Before she quite knew what she was doing she had embraced him. There were tears in her eyes. "I was so worried about you..." she trailed off, crying.
His arms slid around her back. "You shouldn't."
"Yes, I should." She looked down into his eyes, startled to realise that he was two centimeters shorter than herself. "I'm too young to die of a heart attack, okay?"
"I shall endeavour to prevent such an occurrence." He's smiling. He's really smiling! She was sorely tempted to kiss him.
*****
"Oh man! That's Ikari's CO? I wish a girl like that would order me around."
"Ikari's workin' wit' dat superior babe? No wonder he don't notice da girls in class."
"Shut up, you goons," Hikari snapped.
Kensuke moved to the window, peeking around the edge. "Oh my God, look at this."
"Don't be a jerk, Aida-kun."
Suzuhara peered over his friend's head. "Dey... dey got no shame..."
Despite her better instincts, Hikari took a glance. Her classmate and the uniformed woman were in each others' arms. She couldn't see their faces clearly, but they were close together, and the woman's fingers were twined about Ikari's braid. "We're not going to talk about this at school, are we?" She laid a hand on the back of each neck.
Suzuhara gulped. "No, Class Rep."
"But, Class Rep--" she gently squeezed Aida's nape. "Okay, we won't."
"Good boys."
*****
She took her lips from his cheek. "Let's go home, okay?"
"Y... Okay." The word sounded foreign on his tongue. She laughed, and gave him one final hard squeeze before letting go. Ikari Shinji, I think I lo... like you.
**********
Author's Notes:
This is an attempt on my part to re-write the second volume of the manga as it would be in a world where Suzuhara's mocking comment (Viz translation, graphic novel, page 43) was literally true.
The lines from Tu Fu's "Ballad of the Army Carts" are of my writing, based on several different translations. As I have about five words of present-day Mandarin and absolutely no Classical Chinese, this is not to be taken as any sort of authoritative version. My favourite translation of this poem on the web is David Lunde's at: http://www.chinapage.com/poet-e/dufu2e.html. There are several other very nice translations of Chinese poetry on the same site.
I'm rusty at best with the jian-blame me for errors, not my shifu.