THE STORY OF ISAMU FUYUTSUKI
Part 5 – Asuka VS. Isamu
Author’s
Note:
Well before you get all excited, Asuka and Isamu aren’t going to have a biff with the EVAs or anything! But hopefully you’ll get a taste of what’s to come between them.
I must really say another thankyou to
everyone who has e-mailed me since Part 4. I am really beginning to feel an
important part of something with the compliments. They have certainly inspired
me to keep going! So another big thanks to them and anyone who e-mails me after
this.
So without further adieu, let the story
continue.
Adin Knight 5/12/00
(Christmas soon!)
P.S. A little note as well –
This was originally written as ‘Part 2 – Asuka VS. Isamu’ but I considered it
too far into his story that I put it back a bit – originally as Part 3, then 4 -
and it got held back for ages. My original written copy still has ‘Part 2’ as
its title. So what an amazingly useless bit of
information.
2 days after Part
4
“Don’t you understand –
he’s starting to remember!” Ritusko almost screamed at the man standing
four feet in front of her, behind Gendou Ikari’s desk.
“He had a feeling of déjà vu, that is
hardly remembering,” Kohzoh Fuyutsuki replied calmly. He was still cool and
collected, unlike Ritsuko, who was seething with rage.
Her breath was loud and heavy, and her
eyes red. She looked down at Gendou, who sat at his desk as he always did, as if
he was unaware of the feud going on around him.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” she
asked him, begging him to consider it.
Gendou took his time, gathering his
thoughts. Finally he spoke.
“I concur with the Vice-Commander. We
will wait if or until something else happens. One feeling of recognition is not
enough to warrant such a procedure.”
Ritsuko looked at him in dismay; amazed
he’d taken Kohzoh’s side.
“You know how dangerous the procedure is
and this time he doesn’t have the background for it to work. There may be
‘unfortunate’ consequences,” Kohzoh added. Ritusko looked back at
him.
“You had no trouble taking him away fro
me before. Now, when it matters you hide behind excuses,” she
snarled.
Now Kohzoh’s edge cracked. His face
tightened into a grimace of anger.
“He was never yours
anyway.”
“I was all he had!” Ritusko screamed
back. “You just treated him like your puppet, a toy, something to resurrect old
ghosts! I found he was a person in his own right!”
Now she looked down at
Gendou.
“Just like you. You and your little
dummy bitch. You abandoned you son for a drone. You’re both fools, who can’t
accept the truth!”
Kohzoh stepped back, his face no longer
a hard surface. Now it was like a child’s, who has just been told his mother
died.
Gendou didn’t
move.
“I think you’ve said enough, Dr. Akagi,”
he told her coldly.
Her rage tightened as a ball in her
throat, and her temples throbbed. But she quelled her anger and stomped out the
dark office.
When she left, Kohzoh let out his breath
in a sigh. He looked down at Gendou who, of course, didn’t look
back.
“What do you
think?”
“I think we should keep an eye on the
situation.”
As Ritusko went to leave the office, a
shadow moved away from the other side of the door. It fled down the corridor and
hid around a corner.
Luckily for it, Ritusko walked in the
other direction. When it heard her footsteps fade, it re-emerged and moved back
towards the door to Commander Ikari’s office. Fortunately the doors only opened
when the Commander summoned, so they wouldn’t open like normal doors and give it
away.
Ryohji had first been alerted when he
heard the yelling. He had been going to see if he could squeeze some more
information out of the two senior officers when he had heard Ritusko
yelling.
His hand paused over the button to
activate the chime to alert them of his presence. Instead he placed his ear
against the hard metal.
Nothing. It was thick
metal.
But he was undeterred. He reached into
his pocket and removed a small device – a box with two leads coming out of it.
At the end of the leads were two earphones, and these he placed in his ears. The
small box he placed against the door.
Now he could hear what was going on. And
very interesting the listening was, until he had to retreat as Ritusko left. Now
he stood before the door again, old questions and arguments flickering through
his mind, plus some new ones.
“Y’know what?” Isamu asked
Shinji as he leant back in his chair with his feet on the desk. Shinji looked up
from his work, though Isamu continued gazing towards the front of the
room.
“What?”
Isamu stopped tapping his pen against
his lower lip and let it rest on his chest.
“You guys are seriously boring,” he said
dully. Shinji’s expression changed to one of annoyance.
“That’s not very nice,” he replied,
offended.
Isamu threw his legs apart and over the
desk’s edges, so his chair’s front legs hit the floor, then turned and looked
straight into Shinji’s face.
“But you are!” he cried loud enough to
gain the attention of the whole class. The two looked around embarrassedly, and
then returned to their work. The class followed their example, except Asuka who
stared at them a while longer.
After a while Isamu began to rock back
in his chair again. He removed something from under his black t-shirt – he
hadn’t taken to wearing the school uniform, claiming it clashed with his hair –
and started fiddling with it in his right hand.
When he spoke again, Shinji noticed he
had assumed a rather dazed expression – staring off into nothing – like his mind
was somewhere else.
“All you guys do is go to school, whinge
and have sync tests,” he whispered. This time Shinji thought about it and
realised Isamu was right. But it didn’t worry him; he didn’t want to be well
known, just part of the crowd. He was a terrible socialiser
anyway.
He looked up and noticed Isamu’s absent
expression, and then the thing twirling in Isamu’s fingers glittered in the sun
and caught his attention.
“So?”
“Well you always seem so miserable,
maybe you should do something to take your mind off things. Relax a
bit.”
Now Shinji’s mind was focused on the
glittery object moving nimbly over and under Isamu’s knuckles. It was moving too
fast – disappearing and reappearing – for him to really see what it
was.
“Isamu, what is
that?”
“Huh?”
Shinji pointed and Isamu’s brain woke
up.
“In your hand,” Shinji
directed.
Isamu looked down into his hand and the
tiny golden locket and chain he held. He smiled then handed it to
Shinji.
“It’s a locket,” he told Shinji as he
dropped the small bundle into his hand.
Shinji held it up by its chain and
looked at it as it spun slowly. “Why do you wear it?”
“Look inside.”
Shinji found a tiny latch on the side
and unfastened it. He slid his fingernail under it and lifted it open. Inside
were two small pictures, one on either side. Both were of a woman with striking
red hair. She was very beautiful and also very familiar.
Shinji looked at Isamu. “Is that
your…”
“My Mother? Yes, it
is.”
Shinji looked back at the photos. Isamu
looked on. Shinji stared at a small photograph of Isamu’s mother’s
face.
“What was her
name?”
“Myung. Myung Kahji,” Isamu said
sadly.
“Oh,” Shinji replied absently, still
staring. He was thinking of how much Isamu resembled her. Slowly he closed the
locket, clicked the latch shut and handed it back to Isamu, who put the chain
over his head so the locket hung on his chest.
Shinji noticed Isamu’s rather sad face,
and worried he’d upset Isamu. But he hadn’t, and Isamu looked at him and smiled
glumly.
“Do you remember your mother?” Isamu
asked Shinji. Shinji looked down at his hands, like he was expecting them to
provide an answer.
“Not really. I was very young when she
died,” Shinji said morosely and thought back to his childhood, but he couldn’t
really remember her. He knew she’d been kind and a good mother, but not much
else. He cursed himself for not thinking of her more – revering her like the
4th child.
“Yeah, I don’t remember much either,”
Isamu told him. He had the locket in his hand again, looking off into the
distance.
“Mr. Fuyutsuki, have you completed your
work?”
That raspy voice caught their attention
and Shinji hurriedly returned to his work. Isamu, as usual, remained calm but
allowed his chair to rest on all fours again.
“Yes, sir,” Isamu replied as
respectfully as he could.
Their teacher looked at him sourly. He
didn’t like this boy much. He was self-assured and annoying, not to mention
disruptive. But he was also intelligent which made it worse. He often finished
work quickly then started chatting to his chums, especially the Ikari
boy.
“Well please let Mr. Ikari finish his
work in peace.”
Isamu had nothing against their teacher,
but he could see he wasn’t liked. He tried to be as respectful as possible but
he loved to talk. He couldn’t know just how much Ryohji had experienced the same
feeling before, and just how many men had been consumed by jealousy for him.
Already the male population in the school was coming to dislike him, but he
hadn’t noticed.
“Yes, sir,” he said back, and pressed a
button on his terminal which reactivated the screen. He began typing to give the
illusion he was studying.
The teacher decided to keep an eye on
him. He would have loved to get rid of Isamu, but the boy was one of ‘them’ and
he had his orders.
As Shinji worked, he heard a small beep.
On the screen in front of him was a message.
We are so
alike!
Tohji watched with quiet curiosity from the other side of Shinji’s desk. He still wasn’t sure what to think of Isamu. He seemed nice enough, though somewhat odd.
Maybe I should stop being so hard on
new kids he thought and smiled to himself. Kensuke was playing with his
model planes and making rather annoying noises. Tohji kicked his chair and told
him to shut up. Kensuke poked his tongue out at him, and then went back to
work.
When the lunch bell rang, Tohji was the
first out, as usual. He grabbed his wallet from his bag without difficulty (this
time) and bolted off to the canteen. Asuka looked at him with
disgust.
“Trust a boy – always thinking with
their stomachs,” she commented, and then turned to Hikari who was standing
beside her. “If you ever marry a guy like that, I’ll kill
you.”
Hikari smiled nervously and blushed a
deep red.
“Trying to keep her all for yourself?”
Isamu asked cheekily, walking by. This time Asuka went red - with
rage.
“WHY YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF… I SWEAR I’M
GONNA KILL YOU!” she screamed. Isamu just kept walking and smiling, while the
class looked at Asuka in shock. Shinji followed after him, dodging Asuka’s glare
as he went past. Kensuke followed the two of them, a huge grin on his face.
Asuka saw it.
“SHUT UP!”
With that Kensuke burst out laughing.
Asuka attempted to kick him, but he managed to move out of the way.
The three of them made their way up to
the roof and sat on a bench. Isamu unslung the bag he had over his shoulder and
began to unzip it. Shinji sat next to him and did likewise, though Kensuke stood
a little longer. He was still somewhat sceptical of Isamu. His attached ness to
Shinji a little…odd.
Maybe he’s gay, Kensuke ventured,
but then he heard a giggle behind them. All three turned to see a group of girls
watching them intently – or more watching Isamu intently. To Shinji it came as
little surprise, it had start to become routine. But Kensuke had not got to know
the fourth child, and his doubts about Isamu’s sexuality were settled when Isamu
winked at the girls.
They giggled and two ran away, but one
stayed and waved shyly at Isamu. He waved back cutely. She blushed and ran after
her friends.
He seems like quite the ladies man,
Kensuke thought, and it made him grin. I like this
guy.
Isamu turned to Shinji who
was looking at him strangely after witnessing what had just occurred. Isamu gave
him an equally strange look.
“What?”
Shinji smiled at him, and looked back
down at the bag in his lap. “Oh, nothing.”
“No, what was it?” Isamu
insisted.
Shinji looked at him again, still
smiling.
“From what I’ve seen, you are a lot like
Ryohji. You are both very…very…”
Shinji looked around, trying to think of
the word. Kensuke gave him one.
“Randy?”
Shinji looked at him, his smile gone. He
was unsure if Isamu would take offence.
Isamu just smiled and looked away, down
to his right. Kensuke thought he’d never seen someone so moronic when
embarrassed.
“Well I, uh…gee…thanks,” he mumbled,
then looked back at Shinji, who was on the verge of laughing. It made Isamu
happy to see him lighten up. He quickly regained his usual self-confident
attitude. “I bet they were looking at you and Kensuke. I always hear all the
women talking about Kensuke. Even Misato commented on how masculine and handsome
he is.” He winked at Kensuke.
As soon as Kensuke heard Misato’s name
he went into a swoon. He took a rather drunken look and smirk. Isamu and Shinji
went into hysterics.
Tohji appeared, laden with food, to find
them. He looked very confused.
“What’s so funny?”
“You guys are!” Isamu told him between
spasms of laughter. “In the time I’ve been here you guys have been the funniest
group of guys I’ve ever met!”
“No, they’re just stupid – like you,”
Asuka pointed out. Tohji, Kensuke and Shinji immediately shut up and spun
around. Isamu took his time recovering and turned around slowly, very
relaxed.
Asuka glared at him with her hands on
her hips. Hikari was attempting to hide behind her from
Tohji.
“Why do you keep following us?” Isamu
asked her innocently. “You must really like him,” he said, and nodded at Shinji.
Shinji turned to him, startled.
“Who?! Me?!”
“Who?! Him?!” Asuka echoed. She was
blushing vividly.
“You heard me,” Isamu said. “At least,
that’s what it looks like.”
Asuka shook her fist at him and stormed
off, leaving Hikari who smiled weakly then went after her.
“Sorry Shinji, but I just had to get rid
of her,” Isamu apologised.
“It’s ok,” Shinji told him and relaxed.
I wonder if she does like me? He thought, but dismissed the thought with
a bout of low self-esteem. No way, I’m a nothing. No one would ever like
me.
“I can’t stand him!” Asuka declared, looking out over Tokyo-3 from the other side of the roof. Hikari stood behind her.
“So you do like him,” Hikari
said.
Asuka sighed sadly, looking down at her
feet. She looked back up at the horizon.
“No – well, yes. He’s just so
irritating.”
Hikari smiled.
“Why don’t you tell
him?”
“Because I know he’ll use it as a way to
make me look stupider than ever.”
Hikari’s smile grew
wider.
“Maybe he likes
you.”
“Some how I doubt it. Anyway, what do
you care?” Asuka yelled, turning on her – almost savaging her. Hikari moved
backwards holding up her hands in defence. Asuka continued her attack. “Haven’t
you got something official to do?!”
Hikari ran away
crying.
Asuka placed her head in her hands as
tears began to roll down her cheeks, whispering, “Men – they ruin
everything.”
As Asuka closed the front door that
afternoon, she recognised the sweet smell of instant food. She walked into the
kitchen to find Misato eating a bowl of microwave noodles and guzzling a can of
Yebisu simultaneously, making a most amusing scene. Pen-pen was also attempting
to down a can – with great difficulty.
Asuka just walked past them to get a
drink from the fridge. Misato smiled at her but Asuka still retained her
frown.
“Hello Asuka,” Misato said happily. Her
happiness irritated Asuka even more.
“Hello Misato,” Asuka mocked her, but
Misato took no notice. She continued being quite joyous. She hadn’t had a day
off work in a while.
“How was your day?” she continued,
despite Asuka’s obvious bad mood.
“Fine,” Asuka replied coldly. She could
feel her anger rising.
“Certainly doesn’t sound like it!”
Misato exclaimed suddenly and burst out laughing. Asuka gave her a look of pure
rage and then stormed off to her room, attempting to slam the sliding door.
Misato looked after her, a rather confused look on her
face.
“Was it something I said? Hey – where’s
Shinji?!” she called after her, just realising he was
missing.
She only just caught the faint call from
Asuka’s room.
“He’s gone to the mall with his damn
friends!”
“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Isamu told the
very nervous Shinji. Shinji backed away from him, further from the large
building Isamu had coaxed him into coming to.
“But Misato will worry and I have
homework to do,” he replied, trying to make his excuses sound reasonably
feasible.
But Isamu was insistent, and he began
mocking Shinji. He put his hands up under his chin and flashed his eyelashes,
trying to look as annoyingly cute as possible.
“Ooh! I’m so scared my poor big-breasted
bitch won’t know where I am if she need help with her homework!” he teased, then
grabbed Shinji’s arm with a “Come on!” and dragged him through the
doors.
Shinji squirmed uncomfortably in the
chair he sat in. He didn’t like being around so many people, and there were a
lot of people around him. Isamu had chosen a table right in the middle of the
food court. On all sides people eating and chatting surrounded
him.
Presently Isamu appeared, pushing his
way through the crowd towards Shinji. He was holding two plates, which had
steaming food on them. As he sat down he handed one to Shinji who timidly took
it from him, uttering a feeble “Thank you.”
Isamu sat down and began gobbling his
meal down. Shinji picked at his half-heartedly. Isamu looked at him between
shovelling fork-fulls into his face.
“Not hungry?”
Shinji dropped his fork and sighed
loudly. He was afraid of looking silly.
“Not really,
thanks.”
Isamu put his own fork down and looked
at Shinji with concern.
“Something on your mind?” he asked
soberly.
Shinji looked at his kind face. He felt
he could tell Isamu anything, but something inside him just wouldn’t let
him.
“No.”
Isamu rolled his eyes and leant back in
his seat. He raised his palms to the sky as if to say ‘God help me!’ then
dropped them into his lap and looked at Shinji with a blank face, which quickly
changed to an annoyed one as he spoke.
“I bring you here to try and get you to
talk and relax but you have to keep yourself all closed up! Why don’t you just
talk to someone?!”
Shinji felt hot blood run into his face,
and before he could stop he yelled back “Why should I have to be how you want
me?! Everybody doesn’t have to be the way you want them to be!” at Isamu, who
recoiled in fear and surprise.
Isamu’d been told many times that ‘the
truth hurts’ but he only really appreciated what it really meant now. He looked
sadly down at his feet, the full sting of Shinji’s words weighing on his
mind.
Shinji saw Isamu’s reaction and was
ashamed for what he’d said. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed
deeply. He knew he’d hurt yet another person trying to help him, trying to be
nice to him. It made him so angry with himself – almost hate
himself.
A silence fell between them for a few
minutes while each thought of his own things. Isamu was again surprised it was
Shinji who spoke first, though quietly and remorsefully. Shinji realised he
didn’t just not like to talk – he didn’t like what he had to
say.
“Isamu, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
upset you.”
He looked up at Isamu who still sat
hunched up in his chair with his head down. In that moment Shinji became aware
of the sounds around him. The people nearby had quickly returned to their
business after his outburst drew their attention, and all around he could hear
the quiet rustle of feet and hushed murmur of voices. It somehow had a soothing
quality to it. It seemed to be coming from far away, but helped him realise just
where he was; in a reality with other people who didn’t always share his views
or care for him.
…Father…
It was a disquieting thought.
“No,” Isamu said slowly and raised his
face to look into Shinji’s. Momentarily Shinji was frightened that Isamu was not
accepting his apology, but Isamu gave him another of those grim
smiles.
“I should be the one apologising,” he
continued. “I was being really selfish, and I didn’t consider your feelings. I
was…I was trying to turn you into what I thought you’d be. I’m
sorry.”
He held out his hand to Shinji, who
clasped it in his own and shook it.
They sat quietly then, Isamu gazing away
into the crowd around them, while Shinji stared into the table – both lost in
thought.
Finally Shinji
spoke.
“What did you mean by ‘you tried to turn
me into what you thought I’d be?” and also realised what a most confusing
sentence it was. He looked up at the fourth child again, but Isamu didn’t look
back. Instead Isamu looked slowly around at the table, his face showing he was
thinking. Shinji continued looking at him. He liked Isamu, though some things
about him irritated Shinji.
Presently Isamu began to giggle, then
chuckle and then laugh. Shinji felt the contagious effects and began to grin
giddily.
“What?” he asked, stifling a
chuckle.
Isamu tried to contain his laughter, but
found he couldn’t. He held up his hand with his first finger extended to signal
for Shinji to wait.
“Oh, it’s just how stupid I was,” he
said after he finally managed to bring himself under control. Shinji looked at
him curiously.
“How were you?”
“Oh, it’s just how I thought you’d be. I
had this image of Shinji Ikari being a big, strong, handsome, cool, sort of
mellow guy who was a hit with the ladies.”
At this point he nudged Shinji jokingly.
Shinji smiled back though he really didn’t feel like it.
“I mean, you are!” Isamu said quickly,
not wanting to hurt Shinji’s feelings again, then
reconsidered.
“Sort of…”
Shinji looked down at his right hand,
which lay limp on his right leg. He turned it upwards and looked at the
palm.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said
quietly.
Isamu put his hand on Shinji’s shoulder
and tightened his grip a little. Shinji looked up at him. Isamu gave him his
most supportive smile.
“Hey, you are not a disappointment. Over
the last few months you’ve been through more than most people have in a
lifetime, with no training, and no experience, and you’re still here. If that
isn’t courage then I don’t know what is. All that has to count for something. No
one else I ever met could deal with all that.”
He gave Shinji a little push and
withdrew his arm.
“Anyway, I like you better this way.
Making your role-models superhuman is silly.”
Shinji looked down at his hand, stunned.
Me? A role model?
His hand clenched into a fist then relaxed again. He looked at it in wonder. Would someone really look up to him for what he was? For what he did? For being a pilot?
He looked up at Isamu to ask him, but Isamu was already staring off into the crowd again. Shinji quickly looked back into his lap again. His fist clenched again, and the strength in it made his spirits rise. He looked up at the ceiling, which was made of glass, and into the sky above.
Isamu caught him completely off guard.
“I guess we’re not so alike after all.”
Commander Fuyutsuki sighed and shifted his feet at the table he was sitting at. He’d been waiting for hours and it was getting dark. He’d already watered all the plants twice.
He picked up the nearby newspaper and began to re-read it, hoping to find something he’d missed before. But, as with everything he did, he’d been thorough – there was nothing new to be read.
Slowly he folded it up and put it down again. Another long sigh permeated from him. Years ago he would have read, but he was finding it difficult to focus on anything. With the arrival of his two sons things had become much more complicated. He could deal with Shigeru, who had always been most like his father. He would do what he was told, and would not ask questions. Shigeru had often made him proud once upon a time.
But Ryohji and Isamu were different. Bother were impossible to keep quiet and could never stop being nosey and inquisitive. They’d got that from their mother.
Oh, Myung. I wish you were
here.
He realised it had been a long time since he’d waited for one of his boys to come home.
And the first time he’d done it alone.
The front door closing roused him from his thoughts. He turned in his chair to find Isamu removing his shoes, and his anger returned.
“Where have you been?” he asked sternly. Isamu didn’t look at him.
“Out,” he answered curtly. The Commander inflated his chest and drew his facial features into a loose snarl.
“Don’t talk to me like that. Where were you?”
Now Isamu did look at him, and those familiar eyes made Kohzoh feel unsettled.
“I was in the city,” Isamu said softly.
The Commander gave him a look that sent a shiver down his back. He felt bad for disappointing his father, though he didn’t want to be. It was as if the feeling was forced upon him. He wanted to be angry with Kohzoh but he couldn’t.
“Were you with Ikari?” his father pressed on.
Isamu decided a confrontation might give him the anger he wanted.
“What’s it to you?”
“Isamu!”
He found it didn’t, it only served to make him feel worse. His gaze had fallen back down to his feet, but now he looked his father in the eyes.
“Yes, I was.”
Kohzoh made no reply, but inwardly his thoughts were of a rather cynical nature.
The children of Yui and Myung –
friends! He scoffed. How ironic.
“I thought I told you to come home before 5 o’clock,” he said finally. Isamu looked away off to his left and didn’t answer. He was looking at the phone, which he’d wanted to call Misato on.
“The mall is not a good place to spend your time, nor wandering the streets at dark.”
This time Isamu did look at him, his eyes wide with amazement.
How did he know?
Then the answer dawned on him and he looked back down at his feet. This time he really did feel angry.
Must’ve had goons following
me.
“I am sorry father. It will not happen again.”
That pleased the Commander very little. He had heard that often enough not to believe it, though not from Isamu…
“I’m going to bed,” Isamu told him and walked down the hall to his room, leaving his father to his own thoughts.
At the Katsuragi residence a similar situation was being acted out.
“Where have you been?” Misato asked with her hand on her hips. Shinji thought it was one of the few times he’d seen her genuinely angry. He finished taking off his shoes and looked at her innocently.
Misato still found it difficult to be angry with him. She tried to put on her sternest face but found she couldn’t.
“I was in the city with Isamu,” he told her quietly. She relaxed noticeably at that, and even began to smile.
“Good,” she giggled and skipped off down the hall and through the door to the living room.
Shinji stood speechless.
Shinji
turned his head to the side so he could see the clock on the table across the
room.
10:12
He sighed and turned back to the
ceiling.
He wasn’t sure why he bothered going to
be bed early - it didn’t help
In the next room he could hear the TV
blaring. Asuka had declared she was old enough to make her own rules, including
going to bed when she wanted to. At first Misato had rebuked her but in the end
had given in.
At dinner Shinji had sat staring at
Asuka, thinking of what Isamu had said. How did she feel towards him? He wasn’t
sure how he felt towards her. She seemed to obsessed with herself to care for
anyone else. She considered him a threat and a rival, like she did most
people.
But he had sat staring at her until she
called him a pervert and other such things.
Now he found himself lying in bed, still
thinking of her. Maybe he was attracted to her. But she angered him so
much…
He sighed sadly
again.
Pride. Fear. People.
Things he’d mainly avoided before
becoming a pilot. Now he had to deal
with them.
Was that the only thing people liked him
for? Respected him for?
For being an EVA
pilot?
Leave! came the voice of his father- the
one who summoned him to fulfill his role.
“Because I have a purpose to fulfill,”
Shinji said out loud.
He tried to cram the thoughts away, but
they resisted with vigor.
You’re trying to run away again the
voice in his head told him.
Suddenly he was there in the carriage,
as it sped over the vastness of his conscience.
You’re trying to shut away those things that
trouble you came the lilting voice again. Shinji knew from the voice who it
was.
“No. Go away.” He said lightly, turning
away from the light streaming in onto his face, silhouetting the person opposite
him.
You run and hide from those that hurt
you the voice persisted.
“Sorry…
Sorry…
…sorry,”
his own voice came back to him.
“No! Leave me alone!” Shinji screamed,
clamping his hands over his ears. He began to sob quietly, then looked up into
Rei’s face.
“Why are you doing
this?”
She looked at him and her blank face
took on as much of an expression of empathy as it could.
You haven’t learnt from the past or adapted
to life. Instead you hide your feelings, avoid confrontations and run from
people.
“What’s wrong with
that?”
He was alone in his bed. His pillow was
sodden with tears. He pressed into it and cried, vowing I will
change.
After a while sleep took
him.
Isamu turned his head to the side and
scratched his nose. With that accomplished, he put the hand back behind his head
and blew his breath out in a whistle.
He regretted retreating to his room; he
was hungry. But he wouldn’t face his father, who he knew would be lurking about
outside. In fact the Commander had also gone to bed. He was pleased to be home
early for the first time in years.
Isamu rolled onto his side, his hair
strewn over his pillow. He felt decidedly irritated, not just from his hunger,
but from his sleeplessness.
He supposed it was from being an active
person; when he went to bed he expected to sleep immediately – which he usually
did.
But occasionally, when he had things on
his mind, he found himself lying awake.
“Looks like it’s gonna be one of those
nights,” he sighed to himself, and reached over to switch off the MD player
lying nearby. He sat up and removed the earphones, then sat still – looking
about the room.
Something tugged at his mind, something
he’d forgotten. He looked around the room, trying to figure out what it
was.
Isamu wasn’t aware of it, but each time
he had moved lodgings he had almost always reassembled his room in the same way
- a subconscious link to a past he didn’’t remember.
It looked like any teenager’s room -
posters adorning the walls displaying band names and beautiful women; a small
set of open shelves on which were set myriad smaller possessions (including one
teddy-bear) and across it a small set of drawers to store clothes in. A lot of
his clothes lay strewn about the floor as he searched, and he considered
cleaning them up.
But he knew the itch would drive him to
madness if he didn’t find whatever it was he was looking
for.
He searched past the small amplifier,
sitting next to a case; past his school bag which had overturned, spilling its
contents; and then his gaze settled on a small, gray, box-shaped item
half-hidden under a pair of jeans and a packet of old
chips.
He smiled and clapped his hands together
in joy of finding it. He had neglected the item as of
recent.
Slowly he rolled forward onto his knees
and leant over to pick it up. Upon grabbing it he reversed the movement to end
up sitting back on his bed with his legs crossed.
He put the object in his lap and pushed
a switch on its front to open it.
It was a very dirty, battered old
computer.
Isamu flicked the ‘on’ switch and the
screen illuminated his face. As it started he inspected its keyboard to see what
sort of condition it was in. The ‘J’ key was loose; ‘L’ and ‘N’ had swapped
positions, and ‘P’ had been replaced by a piece of plastic with ‘P’ written on
it.
Never the less, his smile did not
falter. Everything was in order. He quickly switched the ‘L’ and “N’ keys, then
placed his finger on the touch-pad.
Slowly he guided the cursor to a file
named ‘2015’. Around it resided other files similarly named – ‘2014’,’2013’,
‘2012’, and so on.
He positioned the cursor directly over
the file and quickly pressed a button below the touch-pad twice. From inside the
machine came a multitude of taps and whirls and buzzes as it attempted to open
the document.
Once it had finished, Isamu began to
scroll down towards the bottom of the document. On the way he passed many
entries, all dated.
It was a journal.
Finally he reached the end of the page
and, after entering the days date, began typing.
Later Isamu slept soundly, having
cleared his mind.
Misato watched TV for a while, and then
went straight to sleep – she was very tired.
23-2-01
– Sorry this has taken so long everyone. I was away most of the holidays, and
when school started back my PC died and I had to get it fixed. But finally I’ve
got it back, and here is the finished product. So apologies again to everyone
and hopefully the next one will be out sooner. I hope I haven’t lost any readers
from this delay, but if I have it serves me right!