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Ikari Gendo was an intimidating man, that much nobody could deny.
He carried a heavy, steel cold demeanour, he only spoke when necessary. He spent all his days at work and Shinji was pretty sure he'd never seen his father sleep.
His father did good for the world, just in a rather roundabout way, he supposed.
He couldn't fathom what his mother found in the heartless, empty man.
Maybe he had once been something more.
He would never know.
His mother was dead.
Shinji stared up at his ceiling, lifeless. Unfeeling.
He wondered what would be worse, having a bad father or having a dead father.
Idle thoughts that graced his mind on the daily.
"Shinji!"
His head didn't move to face Misato, the tall woman having opened the door mid- getting dressed, careless as she often was.
"We've been called in – Asuka and Rei too so it must be about the Evangelions."
Shinji sighed. "It's always about the Evangelions."
Misato paused, hairbrush in hand and she stood in front of the mirror.
He rolled over again, lifting the covers over his head. Peaceful and quiet.
He heard the small sound of resignation that left his guardian's mouth and paid it no mind, continuing to ignore her as she sat down on his bed, a hand resting comfortingly on his hip.
"It's never too late, Shinji. If you do not wish to pilot the Evangelion you need only tell the commander."
Shinji didn't know what to say to that.
Did he want to pilot the Evangelion?
No.
But he didn't have anything else but Nerv.
Who was he outside his job?
No one. Nothing. Useless.
He could sleep on a bench, empty and alone, for the rest of his life.
Or he could help people, empty and alone, for the rest of his life.
He wasn't very selfish.
He turned under Misato's hand. "I'm fine. I want to stay as a pilot."
Her warm smile didn't mollify his sentiments much.
—-----
He was tired.
He was so fucking tired. Constantly exhausted.
His father couldn't give them a single break either.
"Again."
His cool command was met with a pained look from Shinji. Asuka only seemed determined, wiping the sweat off her brow and standing up again. Rei looked indifferent. Unchanged.
They were both stronger than him. So much stronger than him.
That's why his father appreciated them, and did nothing but stare impassively at him.
He hated the way it made him feel.
He too stood up again, ready to redo the simulation Ritsuko had created for them to train. To fight.
Over and over.
"Again."
"Again."
"Again."
"Again."
Shinji let out a grunt of frustration, gripping at his hair.
"Stop whining, you big baby." Asuka snapped at him, haughty even with her chest heaving sporadically proving she too, was human, was tired. "You're embarrassing us."
Yes, embarrass. That is what he always did.
"I've had enough." He spoke quietly. "I'm leaving. See you tomorrow, Ayanami." He only nodded at Asuka, he would see her at home.
Rei didn't respond to his goodbye, characteristically quiet. Asuka huffed, sending him a harsh glower. "Weak."
He was.
"Shinji." He froze as his father spoke directly to him. "My office."
He nodded once, a curt, stiff movement, and left the room.
He felt nothing as he climbed stairs, walked long corridors, turned in hallways.
He didn't know what his father wanted. He didn't care either.
His head was still face down when he met him, however, his father's perfectly shone shoes reflecting his image.
He said nothing, waiting for his father to stop reading him and address him directly.
"You are so very unlike your mother, unlike me too." His words were softer, dangerous all the same. "She was much stronger than you are. There wasn't a pathetic bone in her body."
"I wouldn't know, father."
Shinji felt his eyes squeezing shut unconsciously, unsure of what his cheek would grant him.
He didn't know his mother, couldn't know his mother. He wouldn't pretend to know otherwise, harsh and jarring or not.
He looked up, his fathers eyes were hard now, looking down at him with evident displeasure. "You will go back to your colleagues and you will finish your assignment."
It was an order, no room for argument left.
No consideration for how broken and worn Shinji felt.
His father didn't care. Never cared.
There was a reason his father ignored him at every turn, there was a reason his father never held him, even when his mother was alive. There was a reason he was always, always spared of any affection.
He glared up passionately at his father, speaking impulsively. "I hate you."
"You don't hate me child, I'm the reason you're alive."
"YOU'RE THE REASON I WISH I WAS DEAD!"
His father hummed, a derisive sound. "Don't be ridiculous. You're not pathetic enough to kill yourself, or you would have already done so."
Shinji felt his mouth fall agape. Never had his father said something so heartless, even with his eternally sour disposition.
He. . . he knew how Shinji struggled, apparently, and he did nothing to help.
Never offered anything. Never gave Shinji an molecule of his time.
He would have simply let his son die.
He felt like he was breathing through a tight straw, nausea clouding him.
"You will finish the simulation, now." The voice no longer felt like his father's. No father should sound like that towards their own child. "Dismissed."
He turned around, space and time suddenly feeling hazy, he felt as though he was moving on autopilot.
Whispered words left his lips, a quiet chant repeatedly listlessly, mindlessly as he walked back to do the simulation. Back to being his father's lapdog.
"I hate you. . ."
"I hate you. . ."
"I hate you. . ."
"I hate you. . ."
He didn't notice Misato's worried glance, or the way Asuka only shrugged when asked what had happened.
He didn't notice anything.
If his father hated him, he hated his father.
"I fucking hate you."