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.

 

Part 5 – Asuka VS. Isamu

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.

 

The next day –

  “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!

 

 

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