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Ghosts of Evangelion - a post-EoE fic by Bagheera

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Bagheera:
Oooh, plot. Also added a date to the epilogue in the second update posted above. A future chapter will add some context to that, and the epilogue is a coda to both that chapter and the one where it made its actual appearance. That will make sense later.

September 9, 2018

(click to show/hide)September 9, 2018

Shinji sat down at his computer and checked his e-mail. He had a message from Touji indicating his friend was psyched about starting up school the following day, and another from Misato with a link to a strange video on a media site involving an anime character making strange noises. It was a shot sequence, looped for over an hour. He frowned in annoyance and deleted it.
His cell phone rang. When he answered his guardian greeted him. "Hiya Shinji," she said, her voice somewhat subdued.
"Why do you keep sending me junk e-mail?" he asked.
"Whaaat?" she complained. "I'll have you know that's some of the finest entertainment on the internet!"
"You have strange taste," he observed.
"Says the kid who plays Bach, eh?" He could hear the smirk in her voice.
"That's . . . that's different!" he protested.
"Heh." Her tone shifted. "Listen Shinji, I've got some bad news."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I just heard from Asuka's therapist, Dr. Kotetsu," she said. "He says she started a fight at the facility and checked herself out."
"A fight?" Shinji asked. "Why would she do that?"
"I'm not sure," she replied. "I don't have all the details, and Dr. Kotetsu is being pretty tight-lipped about it. But what's important is the fact that we don't know where she is, and that it sounds like she's very upset."
"Is she alright?" His voice had gone up an octave.
"I don't know, Shinji," she replied. "But if you see her I want you to let me know right away, okay?"
"Sure," he said.
"And be careful," she went on. "She hasn't exactly been communicative lately, so I have no idea what's going through her head right now. You haven't heard from her, have you?"
"Of course not," he spat bitterly. "I write her every week, and can count her replies on one hand."
"I know," she said, sympathetic. "Just remember, Asuka's not exactly shy. If she didn't want to hear from you she'd tell you to quit bothering her."
"That's what you always say," he muttered.
"Because it's true!" The cheer in her voice almost sounded genuine. "But anyway," she went on, "I gotta get to work on finding her. Let me know if you hear anything."
"I will." Shinji hung up, then got ready to face the day.

Asuka knocked on his door about a half hour after Misato's call. Shinji answered, and found her dressed in proffessional attire: a blouse, skirt, and jacket. She had circles under her eyes and seemed somewhat harried, but nonetheless gave him a weak smile when she saw him. "Hey, stupid Shinji," she said. "Mind if I come in?"
Shinji just stared, eyes wide. "Uh, s-sure, Asuka. Please come in."
"Thanks," she said.
Shinji pulled out his phone. "I need to call Misato," he said. "She's looking for you." He started to dial, but she lay her hand over his to stop him.
"Don't," she asked. "This is our business, not hers."
Shinji looked at her, confused. Her tone was very strange. "O-okay, I guess."
She smiled at him. "Let's sit down somewhere."
"S-sure." Shinji led them to his living room, where they sat near the wall.
"What's this about, Asuka? Misato said something about a fight. And why did you leave the hospital? Wasn't it your idea to go there?"
Her face darkened, but she closed her eyes and calmed herself. "That doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."
He nodded. "Well then . . . what did you want to talk about?"
She leaned against the wall, thinking. "There were a lot of things you did before Third Impact that pissed me off. And some of them were really, really bad. You know what I'm talking about." She gave him a pointed stare, and he squirmed. "I hated you for what you did to me then, and I never forgave you for it. And I don't think I ever will."
She was silent for a bit, and her brow furrowed, as though she was trying to remember what came next.
"But after Third Impact, when we were alone, things changed." She rubbed the scar on her wrist absently. "You were paying attention then, and you were trying to help me, and you didn't give up. Even if it was just because of guilt or whatever, you still helped me out. And that was a good thing. Do you get that? It's important that you understand that."
He nodded. "Okay, I guess."
She leaned forward, her expression severe. "No, not 'I guess'. Do you get it or not?"
He held his hands up defensively. "I get it. It . . . it was a good thing."
She backed off. "That's right. And I'm grateful for that." She sounded very tired.
"Okay." Shinji shifted uncomfortably.
"Also, Nagisa was right. You're a good person, and you deserve to live a happy life. What happened after, with Third Impact -- that was Nerv. It was all about them and their shitty goals, all of it. None of it was your fault. I really, really want you to understand that."
Shinji was reeling now. "Asuka, this is . . . this isn't like you. What's going on? Why are you saying all of this?"
"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you understood all of that." She stood up. "Look, I gotta get going." She headed for the door. Halfway there, she turned around. "Oh, one more thing: I don't hate you anymore. I just . . . I didn't understand you, and didn't know how to deal with you." She gave him another weak smile. "Maybe in another life, one without Nerv, we could have been friends. Imagine that, huh?"
"Asuka, I don't --" he began.
"It's fine, Shinji.  Take care of yourself, okay?" She headed for the door.
Shinji followed after her, starting to panic. "Asuka," he said.
She turned, irritated. "What?"
He licked his lips, mind racing. What should he say? "I really wish we could have been friends. More than anything."
She stared at him. For a moment her lip quivered, before her composure broke completely. She closed her eyes, then opened them and sucked in a deep, centering breath. "Sorry, Shin," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's not getting any better. Night after night after night, the same thing. I can't take it anymore. I just can't."
Shinji was frantic now. "We should talk to Misato. I'm sure she'll be able to help --"
She gave him a small smile, shook her head, then coughed. "Can I get a glass of orange juice?" she asked. "I'm really thirsty for some reason."
"Huh? Sure." He headed into the kitchen, desperately trying to think of something he could say to stop her. He was reaching for the orange juice when he realized his mistake. He headed back toward the front door . . .
. . . but of course she was long gone.

"Do we have any GPS information on her?" Misato asked.
"No ma'am," Hyuga replied. "She shut her phone off before she left and we found the secondary tracker in a garbage bin outside the train station."
"God damn it. That girl is far too clever for her own good." Misato sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily. "Alright, finding her is top priority. Get all available personnel involved in the search. She's a red-headed American in Japan, she can't be that hard to find."
"Yes ma'am."
Misato's phone rang. When she answered she heard a frantic voice on the other end. "Whoa, Shinji, slow down! I can't make out what you're saying!" She listended for a bit. "What? Why didn't you call me?" She frowned. "No, that's not your fault. She can be very persuasive like that." She sighed. "Don't worry, Shinji. We'll find her. Just sit tight and leave it to us, okay? Yes, I'm sure she's fine. We'll do our best, I promise." She nodded. "Okay, bye."
She hung up. "Shit."

She was trying to calm a frantic Shinji when she got the call. "Shinji, I promise we'll find her, alright? Calm down!"
"But she was acting really strange, Misato! She was telling me I was a good person, and that Third Impact wasn't my fault, and that she was grateful for what I did for her . . . she was being nice, Misato! It just isn't like her."
Misato smirked. "All of those things are true, you know."
He frowned at her. "That's not the point."
"I know, I know. Trust me, Shinji, I have all of my people working on it. We'll find her."
That's when her phone rang. She picked up, talked for a few seconds, hung up. She flashed Shinji a weak smile. "She turned on her phone, Shinji. We've got her."

Asuka's cell phone signal led Misato to a dumpy hotel in a bad part of town. It didn't take long to find the girl's room. She knocked on the door, once, twice, three times. No answer. She tried the handle and it opened. Asuka was there, naked, sitting with her back to the wall, her head resting on folded arms. Misato entered, clearing the room and the adjoining bathroom. There was a razor blade on the desk by the door, which she pocketed immediately, and she found the girl's clothes in the latter room, neatly folded. 
She knelt by the naked girl before her. "Asuka?" she asked.
Asuka raised her head. Her eyes were dull and listless, full of pain and misery. She met Misato's gaze, but didn't say anything.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Asuka shook her head slowly, then leaned back against the wall. She closed her eyes again.
Misato looked in the closet for a blanket and wrapped it around the girl. "I'm going to take you out of here, alright? We'll go to my place for now. We can sort everything out in the morning."
Asuka nodded and stood. As she did, Misato caught sight of bruises on the girl's breast and thigh, as well as one knee. She opened her mouth to ask about them, then thought better of it. Asuka headed into the bathroom to change. When she was finished Misato wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders and walked her back to her car. They didn't speak on the ride back to the apartment complex.

When they knocked on his door Shinji opened it almost immediately. "Asuka!" he said, panic and relief evident in his voice. She didn't reply. He frowned, thinking. "Are you hungry? It's pretty late, but I can make some soup or something really quick if you like."
"That's a good idea, Shinji," Misato said. She turned to Asuka. "When did you last eat anything, anyway?"
Asuka thought for a moment, then said, "I don't remember. A couple of days ago, I think."
Shinji and Misato shared a look, then quickly ushered Asuka into the kitchen. Shinji began making some udon noodles and threw a mix of leftover chicken, rice, and onions into the microwave to heat. Misato and Asuka sat at the table, the latter laying her head on her arms.
"This will be ready in a few minutes, Asuka," Shinji said. "Then you can head over to Misato's place and --"
"I'm staying here tonight," the girl said, interrupting him.
Misato gave Shinji a look. "Um, Asuka, I'm not sure that's such a hot idea."
"I don't care," she said flatly.
"Well . . . " She looked at Shinji. "Is that alright with you?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Don't worry," Asuka spat. "I won't break your precious Shinji or anything."
"That's not my concern, Asuka," Misato said, taken aback.
Asuka shrugged.
"Well, if that's the way you feel," Misato replied, her tone subdued. "I guess I'll head home, then. Take good care of her, Shinji."
"I will," the boy said.
Misato cast one more look at the girl in front of her, then took her leave.
Once she'd left Shinji said "That wasn't very nice, Asuka."
Asuka shrugged wearily. "I don't care."
"You should care. She was really worried about you."
She sat up, rubbing her face with her hands. "Yeah, right. She only cares about the fact that I caused her a bunch of trouble."
He frowned. "That's really not true, Asuka."
"Whatever."
He didn't press the point, instead opting to finish making the meal in silence. He scooped the noodles onto a plate and added the chicken mix when it was finished heating, then placed the dish in front of Asuka. "Thanks for the food," she said. She took a bite, realized she was terribly hungry, and started eating ravenously. "This is good," she said.
He gave her a weak smile. "Thanks."
She didn't say anything more, opting instead to focus on the meal in front of her.

"Asuka, are you awake?" They were in Shinji's room, her in his futon and him on a tatami mat.
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Can I ask you something?"
She made an irritated noise. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it."
"Not that. Something else."
"What is it?" she asked. She sounded irritated.
"Why did you go to Kyoto?" She didn't respond. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have--"
"To get away from you," she said.
"Huh?" he asked, startled.
"I went to get away from you," she repeated.
"Oh," he said, hurt. "I see."
"No, you don't see. I didn't go because I hated you, I just . . . " she sighed.
"it's okay," he said, "you don't have to explain."
"Shut up for a minute. Look, after Third Impact . . . you reminded me of everything terrible that happened to me. None of it was your fault, but I still remembered it every time I looked at you. And I hated that. And then I started taking it out on you, becoming a completely irrational bitch about it, and I hated that too. I hated the person I was becoming, and I wanted it to stop. So I left."
"Did it help?" he asked.
She frowned. "It seemed to, at first. But I was all alone. The doctors didn't understand anything, and the patients were even worse. I couldn't relate to any of them. And that gave me time to think about it, and it just got worse and worse and worse."
"But then why come back?" he asked. "I mean, if I was the reason you left--"
"I wasn't gonna be here for long, Shinji," she said wryly.
"I know that," he said. "It's just that . . . I mean, I don't know what to do. I want to help you, but if I'm just going to upset you and cause problems --"
"You think too much," she said with a smirk.
He blinked. "What? I thought I was stupid."
"You are stupid," she said sagely. "You're stupid and you think too much."
"That doesn't make any sense," he protested.
She laughed. "See? What did I just say?"
He groaned, and she laughed again.
"Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to be my friend?" she asked.
He nodded. "Of course."
"That'd be nice. We should give that a try sometime." She yawned sleepily.
He nodded. "Sure."
"Maybe someday . . . " she said, and drifted off to sleep.
Next: Shinji and Touji, Asuka and Hikari, and playing the cello. Not sure which it will be; one, two, or all, who knows? Also: Asuka's career plans, and the aftermath of that night in the very first segment. But those are a ways off.

Bagheera:
Edit: Okay, less terrible now. Comments on writing style and such still appreciated, questions about content welcome.

October 7, 2018

(click to show/hide)October 7, 2018

Asuka opened the door to Shinji's apartment, only to find Misato standing on the other side. "Thought you'd be here," the latter said with a smirk.
Asuka scowled. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Tut tut, Asuka. That's no way to speak to your guardian. Besides, I thought we were friends now?"
"Don't push it," the redhead replied. "And anyway, I wasn't trying to be hostile, just inquiring."
"Mmmm." Misato was unconvinced. "Well, anyway, let me buy you lunch. I want to talk to you about a few things."
Asuka shot her a wary look. "What sorts of things?"
Misato grinned, but it was a weak grin. "The sorts of things a parent speaks of with her child."
Asuka just stared at her.
Misato slumped, giving in. "It's important, Asuka. Work with me? Please?"
Asuka sighed. "Fine, fine." She exited the apartment, closing the door. "I hope it's a good lunch," she mumbled.

To her credit, Misato did take her to a decent restaurant. Asuka ordered a swordfish steak out of principle; Misato winced at her charge's choice, then shrugged it off and ordered some sashimi for herself. They made small talk until the meal arrived -- was Asuka's apartment alright, was she eating properly, how was therapy, and so on. Once the main course arrived, Asuka started to dig in and she got to the heart of the matter.
"Okay, enough already," she grumped. "Why are we here?"
"Whaaaat?" Misato protested. "Can't I buy lunch for my favorite girl?"
"You're buying me swordfish, and we both know I'm not your favorite," Asuka growled. "Spill it already."
Misato laughed nervously, then gave in. "Alright," she said. Her expression darkened. "I want to know about what happened in Kyoto."
Asuka scowled. "Why?" she asked. "You wouldn't believe me anyway. Same as the cops and everyone else."
Misato's face was like stone. "Try me," she challenged. When that failed to generate the desired response, she added "I already have a good idea as to what happened."
Asuka ignored her. "You don't know anything," she mumbled.
Misato patiently picked at her food. "I saw the bruises on you when I met you at the hotel that night." Asuka looked up. "But I'd rather hear it from you than speculate."
Asuka glared at her. "Fine," she said. She closed her eyes, remembering that night. "He put his hands on me," she whispered, her voice shaking with rage. "He acted like he was doing me a goddamn favor by paying attention to me." She opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on some point past Misato's shoulder. "I couldn't believe it. He was supposed to be helping me, you know? You sent me there so he could help me, and he . . . " She shook herself, set her jaw, and continued on. "I told him to piss off, and he grabbed me. He tried to force me down. So I . . . " she trailed off.
"You fought back," Misato murmured.
Asuka shrugged.
"Good for you." The pride in her voice was unmistakeable.
Asuka looked at her, surprised. "You believe me?"
Misato nodded. "I do." She smirked. "Does that surprise you?"
Asuka just stared at her, incredulous.
In response, Misato slid a folder across the table, one of two in her possession.
Asuka just looked at it, puzzled, then back at Misato.
"Go on, open it."
Asuka did as she was bade. The file included many things: an examination of Dr. Kotetsu's injuries (fractured orbital, broken mandible, damaged trachea, ruptured spleen, three broken ribs, testicular rupture), a criminal complaint from the Kyoto police department, an arrest warrant (quashed), and interviews with 23 of Kotetsu's former patients (conducted not by the police, Asuka noted, but rather by agents of Herz). The names of the victims were of course redacted, but the name on the arrest warrant was not.
"They were going to arrest  me." Asuka was not terribly surprised.
Misato nodded. "Yes."
"Why didn't they?" the girl asked.
"I forbade it." Misato replied, shrugging.
Asuka just stared at her guardian, confused. "You interfered? But why?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Misato asked.
Asuka frowned in confusion.
Misato gave her a sad smile. "You think I'm your enemy, but that's not the case. I hope one day you'll understand that." She adopted a more neutral demeanor and continued her explanation. "When I first heard about your 'assault' on the good doctor, I was skeptical; it's not inconceivable that you'd lash out at someone if sufficiently provoked, but an attack like that still seemed out of character. When I saw you in that dingy hotel room last month everything fell into place." She took a bite of her sashimi, and then continued. "So," she went on, "I had my people in Kyoto start snooping around, talking to hospital staff, that sort of thing. As it turns out, much of said staff was also skeptical; it seems they've had their suspicions about Dr. Kotetsu's activities for some time, but had no proof on which to act. They put me in touch with some of his former patients, and this is the result."
"I see," Asuka said, her voice subdued. "So, what happens now?"
"That," Misato said, taking another bite of her food, "is something you don't need to worry about."
"What does that mean?" Asuka asked.
Misato grinned. "It means it's time to move on to other things!" She grabbed the other folder in her possession. "For example, let's talk about your plans for the future!"
Asuka eyed the folder warily and took a bite of her swordfish. "I'm having enough trouble dealing with the present."
"You can't play house with Shinji forever, you know."
The girl flushed. "It's not like that!" she protested.
Misato laughed lightly. "Fine, fine." She pushed the folder toward Asuka. "Just tell me what you think of this."
"What is it?"
"Hmmm," Misato intoned. She nibbled on her Sashimi and said "You tell me."
Asuka gave her a put upon look and opened the folder. She scanned the first page, then said, "It looks like Professor Fuyutsuki's primary data on the amplification of a human AT Field, using the evangelion as a medium."
Misato stared at her blandly. "Yes, that is what the title says. But do you understand it?"
Asuka huffed and focused on the page. After digesting its contents she said, "a little. This is the Lorenz equation, and it looks like the professor is using it to estimate the maximum strength of the evangelion's AT Field." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. We never came close to this."
Misato stared at the girl with a mixture of pride and wonder. "No," she murmured, "you didn't. Only the Seeds of Life and Yui Ikari came anywhere close to that figure. I had to talk to three people to figure that out, and here you did it in less than a minute."
Asuka shrugged, embarrassed. "It's not that hard."
"Maybe not for you," Misato replied, taking another bite of her fish. "Look at what else is in there."
Asuka put the article aside and looked at the form beneath it. She glanced up at Misato, head cocked in confusion. "This is . . . "
"An application to Tokyo University's graduate program in Applied Metaphysical Biology, yes," her guardian finished.
"You're insane," Asuka scoffed. "I'd never get in."
"Why not?" Misato asked. "You have a college degree, right?"
"It was a specialty program, not a full university course." Asuka waved her hand for emphasis. "I was twelve years old, it's impossible to complete a full curriculum by that age."
"True," Misato agreed, "but the requisite knowledge is still there. You just proved it."
Asuka shook her head. "Misato, how can you be so naive? I'm 16, and I'm a foreigner. This would be a stretch even in Germany, and here they probably wouldn't even recognize my credentials."
"Let me worry about that," her guardian replied. "Just tell me if you're interested."
"It's ridiculous--" the girl began.
"Asuka. Yes or no."
Asuka huffed in exasperation. "I have no idea. Maybe? I don't even know if I'm stable enough to do it."
"I'm not asking about the practicalities involved," Misato noted. "Do you want to do it, or not?"
"I just said I don't know, alright?" Asuka stabbed her chopsticks into her rice, flustered. "Who's running the program, anyway?"
"His name is Professor Kuroha," Misato said. "As I understand it, he was one of Professor Fuyutsuki's students back in the day. He's very familiar with Yui Ikari's work, as well as that of your mother."
Asuka stopped, looked up. "Huh," she said. She thought for a while, then asked, "did he know her?"
"I'm not sure," Misato replied. "But I talked with him for a bit when we met, to discuss your situation. He's a good man, Asuka. And, in my opinion, he'd make a fine advisor."
Asuka stabbed her rice a bit more. After a time she said, "Alright, fine. If you can get me in . . . whatever."
"So enthusiastic!" Misato chided.
Asuka made a face, but said nothing.
"Alright then, I'll get the wheels rolling." She grinned. "And now for the important stuff! How are things with little Shinji?"
Asuka groaned. "You're disgusting," she said.
Her guardian laughed, and the meal continued.
Wait, 21 pages so far. This might wind up actually being a novella once all is said and done. Also, Touji and Hikari are very sad, but I think the cello's next.

Bagheera:
I said "playing the cello", didn't I? Whoops.

March 12, 2016

(click to show/hide)March 12, 2016

Asuka awoke with a shout, clawing at her face as she fought to escape the dream's crushing grip. She was in the main living area of their apartment, with Shinji's futon right beside hers. She wrapped her arms around herself and doubled over, trying to calm herself.
Shinji watched her, weary and sympathetic. When she'd calmed a bit he asked, "That was the really bad one, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
Shinji chewed his lip in indecision, then sat up. He slowly reached for her, then lay a hand on her back. He started to rub slowly.
"Don't grab me," she said.
"Sorry." He started to pull his hand away.
"No, it's fine," she said. "What you're doing is fine. Just don't grab me."
"O-okay."
Asuka scowled. "I used to want to be held more than anything, but now the very thought of it sickens me." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "God, I hate this."
"Me too," he said.
"What was yours about?" she asked.
"Misato's blood, and Lilith's eyes," he replied.
"One of your worst ones, huh?"
"Yeah."
Asuka tolerated his touch for a few more minutes, then squirmed a little to shake him off. He pulled his hand back. "What time is it?" she asked.
"It's after nine," he replied. "Would you like some breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry," she said.
Shinji gave her a worried look. "That's what you said yesterday, and you said it again when I asked about dinner. You need to eat, Asuka."
She scowled at him. "I'll eat when I'm hungry."
"That's not enough!" he exclaimed. "You need to keep up your strength--"
"Stop bugging me about it!" she snapped. "It's none of your business, so fuck off."
"It is my business!" he insisted. "What happens if you get sick from malnutrition or something? I don't know how to handle something like that!"
"Stop being such a worrywart," she scoffed. "Nothing like that's gonna happen."
He didn't reply for a bit, but eventually said "I don't want to be alone, Asuka. Please, try to eat something."
Asuka growled in annoyance. "Fine, I'll eat something. Now go away and stop bothering me."
He sighed. "Okay, fine. We need some supplies anyway, so I'll go look around or something."
"Whatever," she mumbled. "Good."
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked.
She waved a hand in a shooing motion, dismissing him.
He let out a frustrated breath and stood, then grabbed his pack and headed out of the apartment. As he got to the door, she said "Shinji?"
"What is it?" he asked.
"Don't be gone too long, okay?" He recognized the fragile tone in her voice.
"I won't," he said, reassuringly. "I'll be back by early afternoon."
She nodded.
He opened the door and left.

As promised, Shinji returned in the early afternoon. Asuka turned to greet him, then stopped in her tracks when she saw what he was carrying. It was a cello, case and all. "Where the hell did you get that?" she asked.
"I found it in a wrecked music shop near the edge of town. It's in pretty good shape!" he said, proudly running a hand over his prize.
Asuka arched an eyebrow. "So you're saying you stole it, then."
Shinji blinked in confusion. "W-what?"
She smirked. "It doesn't belong to you, and you took it. What else would you call it?"
Shinji took a step back, shaking his head. "W-wait, it wasn't like that! There was no one there, and everything was wrecked --"
"--and the owner can come back at any time, and when he does he'll be down one cello because you took it. That's theft," she said with a shrug.
"I see," he said, crestfallen.
"Why'd you do it, anyway? You never seemed all that passionate about playing the thing."
"I thought you might like it if I played something," he mumbled.
She scoffed. "Oh yeah, right. Like some light music's gonna make everything better, eh?"
He grimaced. "Fine, I'll take it back." He turned toward the door.
"I didn't say you had to do that," she said, her tone dripping with condescencion.
He stopped. He paused a moment, then turned and glared at her. "Why do you have to be so mean all the time? I was trying to do something nice for you!"
Asuka stepped back, panic setting in. "Look, I was just saying--"
"I know what you were saying!" he shouted. "I already said I'm taking it back!"
"You don't--" she began.
"What am I supposed to do, Asuka? Nothing I try works, and you just keep getting mad, and --"
"Stop it!" she cried. "Please, stop."
He stopped.
She took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have said that, okay?" she said. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, I really wasn't. I just . . . I didn't think it through."
"Whatever," he said, sulking. He turned toward the door again.
She tried again. "Shinji, wait."
He stopped, but didn't turn around. "What is it?"
She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. "Those things need care, right? I mean, it's bad if you just leave them sitting around, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Well, we don't know when the owner's coming back. So what if you kept it here and left a note or something telling him where to find it? That way you'd be helping him out and you're just borrowing it."
He shrugged. "What's the point? I don't feel like playing anymore, and you don't want to hear it anyway."
"Shinji--"
"I'll be back later." He left without another word.
"Shit!" There were tears in her eyes when Asuka caught sight of herself in the mirror. "You stupid bitch," she spat. "Why do you keep doing that? What the hell is wrong with you?"

When Shinji got back Asuka was in the living room. Her eyes were red and she looked agitated.
"Are you still mad?" she asked.
He shook his head tiredly. "Not really. I just wanna get some sleep."
"I really wasn't trying to hurt you," she said, a pleading note in her voice.
"Okay," he said.
"And I'm glad you wanted to do something nice for me." Her voice was earnest.
He gave her a weak smile.
"I'm really trying not to be mean," she went on. "But everything's so fucked up . . . "
"Yeah." He lay down on his futon and closed his eyes.
"I don't know what to do either," she lamented.
"It's fine," he said. "Don't worry about it."
She fretted with her hands. "But it's not fine," she said quietly. "It's not fine at all."
He didn't respond, instead drifting off to sleep.

Bagheera:
As promised, here's the Asuka/Touji scene. I'm mostly happy with it, so please let me know what you think!

September 16, 2018

(click to show/hide)September 16, 2018

Asuka scowled at the face that met her when she opened her door. "What do you want?" she demanded.
Touji held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Take it easy, Soryu," he said. "I'm not here to fight."
Asuka's cocked her head, hand on hip. "Yeah, so?"
"Horaki sent me," he said.
Asuka eyed him suspiciously. "Hikari's not that dumb."
He didn't reply. He just looked off to the side, a faraway look in his eyes.
She'd seen that look before. "Eva?" she asked.
He responded with a jerky nod.
"I see, " she said. She frowned for a moment, then stepped aside. "Come on in, then."

She didn't give him tea or anything, and he didn't ask. "I sometimes forget you were a pilot too, even if it was only just that once."
He nodded. "I never wanted to do it," he mumbled. "Damn things freaked me out, even then. Ayanami was always banged up because of them, and Shinji just got worse and worse as time went on. Even you, at the end . . . " he trailed off.
"Yeah," she agreed.
"I have nightmares about it. I don't even remember all of the details, but they're so fuckin' horrible."
She laughed ruefully. "Yeah," she said. "I know."
"I asked Shinji about it once, but he didn't seem to get it. He kept talking about things he'd done, not the angels. I don't get it, man. He piloted more than any of us."
She shrugged. "That part of it just didn't hit him as hard, I guess."
"Huh." He was silent for a few moments. "The worst part of it," he said, touching his head, "is the way it got inside my head. It was inside me, man! This thing, this . . . something other, something not me, just pried me open like a can opener and started rooting around inside. That's what I remember, what I dream about every night. That feeling of being torn open, of having something sick and twisted stick itself inside of me, of--" he stopped. She was staring at him oddly. "What? What is it?"
She caught herself, shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "It's just, Shinji never described it like that. I know he had contact with the angels, but when he talks about it he describes it more as ordinary conversations. Even though he was freaked out by the situation, that sense of violation is never there." She met his gaze. "But for me, it happened exactly like you describe. I felt the angel rip into my mind, defiling me, and I felt the evas tear me apart when they killed my . . . " she stopped. "Anyway, I felt it. And it was horrible. I couldn't do anything to stop it, and I couldn't even zone out or anything, since it was in my head."
"I don't feel safe anywhere," he said.
Another laugh. "Nope," she agreed.
"Nobody understands why I'm so fucked up. They're like 'Hey, you got your leg back, right? You should be happy!' and 'You're a man, aren't you? Suck it up and deal!' But how am I supposed to do that, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do when it won't go away?"
She frowned. "I hadn't thought about it like that," she said. "I guess it'd be harder to find help since you're a guy, huh?"
"It sucks, man." He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Everyone thinks guys have it so great, and in a lot of ways we do." He sighed. "But we're assholes to one another, man. We're always competing, always trying to outdo one another, never allowed to show any weakness . . . and then when something like this happens no one knows what to do, and no one wants to deal with it. They just want us to be big, strong men and get over it." He scowled. "Well, sorry, but being a big, strong man doesn't do me any damn good here. I can't fucking do anything!" he waved his arms in frustration.
"I get it from the other end," she said. "I'm so strung out all the time that just about anything will set me off, which means I'm always treating Shinji like shit when I don't mean to," she said, a sad smile on her face. "But at least he's tough enough to take it. Everyone else just thinks I'm a bitch, and even when they know how messed up I am they still just want me to go away. And the ones who get past that just look at me with pity; I'm damaged goods, mentally and physically, and who would want a scarred woman with mental problems? It makes me want to scream sometimes."
"Yeah." He let out a slow breath and sat back. "How the fuck do you cope, Soryu? I'm running out of ideas here."
She laughed, a touch of hysteria in her voice. "What makes you think I do?" He looked at her in puzzlement. "Suzuhara, I'd be dead ten times over if it weren't for Shinji. Every time I think about doing it he says or does some stupid ass thing that makes me reconsider and press on." She grimaced. "Sometimes, I really wish he wouldn't."
"Don't say that, man," he admonished. "He's just looking out for you."
"Yeah," she said, voice laced with sarcasm, "because this is so much better, right?" She shook her head, then added, "Sorry. I know he's trying his best, but even so."
Touji let it go. "So, you're saying I should lean on Horaki, then? She doesn't really understand, but . . . "
"Not just her. I have Shinji, but I also have Hikari and Misato. I need all of them to get by. And in your case, Shinji won't give you that macho bullshit you were talking about, right? Heck, even that weasel Aida should be helpful here."
Touji snorted. "He still doesn't get why piloting wouldn't be the greatest thing ever. Mental trauma isn't really his field."
"That's probably a good thing, actually."
Touji frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Well, he's kinda upbeat, right? Use that to your advantage. Lean on Hikari and Shinji for the heavy stuff, and let him pull you up when it gets bad. Distractions help, and he seems to be really good at providing those."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, I guess that's true." He scowled. "Assuming he ever comes back."
"You can talk to me, too, if you want," she said, her tone indifferent.
He balked. "I thought we hated each other."
She shrugged. "You gonna start taking dirty pictures of me again?"
He flushed. "Of course not! That was just kid stuff!"
She narrowed her eyes. "Ask Hikari what she thinks about that 'kid stuff'. Hell, ask any girl in our class. What you did was a crime, you moron."
He squeezed his eyes shut, cringing in defeat. "I know that, alright? It's not like I'd ever do it again."
"Hmph," she scoffed. "Just so you understand."
"Fine, fine," he said.
"But anyway," she went on, "what we're talking about here kinda trumps all that juvenile bullshit. As long as you're not a fuckin' retard all the time I have no issue with helping you out when you need it. And anyway, it'd make the idiot happy, so there's that, too."
"Okay, fine," he laughed. "I can live with that. Thanks."
She shrugged. "Whatever."
There was an awkward pause.
"Suzuhara," she growled.
"Yes?" he asked, nervous.
She narrowed her eyes. "Was there anything else?"
"Er . . . " He stopped to think about it. "Not really."
She snarled. "Then what the fuck are you still doing in my home?"
"Geez, Soryu--" he began.
"Beat it!" she exclaimed.
He headed for the door. "I'm going, I'm going." He stepped outside. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to--" He stopped when the door slammed in his face. He shook his head with a laugh and said, "Aw man, that girl." He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to head home.

Bagheera:
Cello, pt. 2. I'm mostly satisfied with this, though I think the ending is far too upbeat given the time period. But whatever -- they have to have some ups to balance out the downs, or they'll just give up and slit their throats within a week. So fuck it, I'm running with it. Enjoy.

March 14, 2016

(click to show/hide)March 14, 2016

Asuka entered the kitchen, finding Shinji there. "You weren't there when I woke up," she said. She sounded hurt.
Shinji didn't turn around. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"You weren't there yesterday, either," she said.
He shrugged. "I can't be looking after you all the time."
Asuka narrowed her eyes. "That's not what I'm talking about. I already apologized for what I said, didn't I?"
He sighed. "I know you did. And I said it's fine, didn't I?"
"You're still mad," she said, hurt.
"I'm not mad." He sounded mad.
"You're acting like you're mad," she said.
"I'm not mad!" he exclaimed. "I just . . . don't know what to do. "
She scowled. "So you're just given up? That's even worse!"
He shrugged again, sulking. "Sorry to be such a disappointment."
She was quiet for a bit. Then, "You were doing fine before."
He laughed. "I don't think so."
She made a frustrated noise. "Why won't you let me fix things?"
He turned around, his face a mask of misery. "I'm gonna go outside for a bit," he said, heading toward the door. "I'll be back later."
Her fingers tangled in her hair, pulling at it in desperation. "What the hell am I gonna do?" she mumbled.

It took some time, but eventually she came to a decision. She turned on the house's computer terminal and started looking around online; A lot of the internet was down due to Third Impact, but a surprising amount of it had survived intact. Enough, at least, for her to find maps and a directory. She found a likely candidate near the outskirts of town, near the Hakone blast radius, and figured a route to get there. She estimated it would be about an hour each way. She packed a small backpack with food and water, and then headed outside.

As it turned out, her estimate was somewhat conservative; she got there in a little over forty five minutes. This appeared to be the right place. It was wrecked, just like he said, and there were a bunch of instruments lying around the store. It didn't take long for her to find Shinji's cello, still in its case. Per her suggestion to Shinji, she wrote a note for the owner. It was in hiragana, and it probably made her sound like a child, but whatever. That was the least of her problems at the moment.
Getting it back to the apartment proved to be a chore. The instrument itself wasn't the problem -- it was a pretty good model, and as such weighed less than three kilograms. The problem was the case, which also contained the bow, some music, and various other items. All told it weighed some fifteen kilos, nearly half of her body weight.
She tried towing it at first -- it had wheels -- but quickly found that to be cumbersome. The case also had straps, allowing it to be carried on the back like a backpack, but that meant carrying the thing's full weight. It also meant the case hit her in the thighs as she walked, which was annoying and forced her to adjust her pace. She ultimately decided on a combined approach, towing it on pavement and other smooth surfaces and carrying it over rubble or uneven ground.
Halfway home she stopped to rest. "I really hope that idiot appreciates this," she grumped, taking a swig of water. She sighed. "'I just wanted to do something nice for you,'" she mocked. She shook her head. "What a fucking idiot." She sighed again, hauled the cello onto her back, and trudged on.
By the time she got back to the apartment she was hot, sweaty, and ill-tempered. She banged loudly on the door. "Shinji, you idiot, get out here and help me!" She waited a bit, but there was no response. She banged again. "I swear to God, Shinji, if you make me dig out my keys to get in I'm gonna be pissed. Help me out here!"
Shinji opened the door. He looked irritated, but when he caught sight of her his ire turned to amazement. "Asuka . . . you . . . what did you . . . "
She ignored him, opting instead to shove the cello in his direction. "Here. It's your problem now." She stomped inside and collapsed in a chair, drinking heavily from her water bottle.
He took the case in hand by reflex, still utterly baffled by the situation. "But you said you didn't even want to hear it--"
"I never said that, you moron. I said I thought it was stupid, that's all. I don't really care if you play it or not."
He blinked in confusion, and began wheeling the cello into the living room. "But if that's true, why did you go to the trouble of bringing it here?"
She huffed in frustration. "Are you stupid?" His mouth worked, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. "You were moping around like a brain dead moron," she said. "You weren't paying attention to me, and you wouldn't believe me when I said I was sorry, so I had to do something to get your attention."
He shook his head. "But you don't even like it when I--"
She screamed in annoyance and stomped her foot. "Stop it!" she yelled. "Stop being stupid! God, you can be such an idiot sometimes!" He stared back at her blankly. She took another swig of water." I can't explain everything to you, dumbass. Just work it out."
Shinji scratched his head and thought about it. He still didn't get it, but this was obviously important to her. "Well then . . . is it okay if I play something?"
She clenched her fists, suddenly very angry. "Why the hell are you even asking me that? Haven't we been over this? You don't need my permission to do something you like! Jeez! If you want to play, play! You don't have to ask me if it's okay!"
He shook his head. "No, I didn't mean . . . what I meant was, would it bother you?"
She went still. All at once her anger had evaporated. "Oh," she said. "Well, that's different. I don't really c--" She caught herself. "I mean, it's fine," she murmured. "Do as you please."

"That's not the same one you played before, is it?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, this is from an anime that aired before Second Impact. The original version used a full orchestra, and there was an a cappella version, too. But later on they came out with a cello version, and I really liked it. That store had the sheet music for it, so I figured I might as well grab it."
"Huh." She stroked her chin in thought. "I didn't put anything about that in the note."
He frowned. "How did you write that, anyway? I thought you couldn't--"
She scowled. "I'm bad with kanji, dumbass. I'm not illiterate."
He laughed. "Sorry, sorry." He leaned forward, giving her an expectant look. "Did you like it?" he asked.
She shrugged. "It was fine." She frowned in thought. "It was better than the other one," she added. "That one was kinda boring."
He gave her a stupefied look. "Did you just call Bach boring?"
She stuck out her chin. "What of it?"
He narrowed his eyes. "You do realize he was German, right?"
She flushed, then scowled at him. "You shouldn't make fun of a girl when she's complimenting your music, you jerk!"
He just laughed at her.
"I mean seriously," she grumbled.
He smiled thoughtfully. "In fairness, that's a piece that changes a lot depending on who's playing it. Cellists use it to practice -- it's pretty easy to learn, but someone who's really good can do lots of neat things with it." He laughed self-consciously. "But, ah, I'm not really all that good as a cellist, so I guess the way I play it is kinda boring."
She shrugged. "I thought it was fine."
He smiled at the compliment. "Thanks." After a moment, his smile turned into a frown. "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to do, though." He stared at the floor, bracing himself for her inevitable rebuke. When it didn't come, he chanced a sidelong glance at her.
She was playing with her hair, eyes narrowed in thought. After a time she said, "You aren't supposed to do anything, dummy." She met his gaze, and gave him a weak smile. "You keep acting like there's some magic formula that will fix everything, and all you have to do is figure out what it is. But that isn't true. You can't change what happened, and you can't change what you did, any more than I can change what I did to you. And you don't have to. You really don't. All I want you to do is be there, so I can lean on you when I need to while I work on fixing myself."
He stared at her intently, trying to process what she had said. She could almost see the gears turning in his head.
She huffed in irritation. "Do you understand what I said?"
He nodded uncertainly. "I think so. Maybe?"
"Whatever," she mumbled. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
He nodded. "Okay."
She got a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. She stopped when she reached the door. "You'll be there when I wake up, right?"
He nodded. "I'll be there."
She turned and headed into the bathroom without another word.
Next: Last Saturday Night. Oh ho. Oh ho ho.

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