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Hell was silence between strangers, spreading like the space across the room they shared, dividing and uniting; you know you were meant to say things but those things had deserted you. You followed the patterns of the surroundings, paid attention to a spider’s web you’d otherwise not notice, until the need to be elsewhere came to the rescue. Maybe for most, habit stepped in: will you pass the salt, please and thank you, oh what a terrible rain today. But for some, upbringing didn’t allow the comfort of meaningless exchange. You knew there were things in common, but of those, there was little to communicate.
"You must be Asuka Langley. Misato Katsuragi, nice to meet you.“
"Hi. I was told you’ll be my hostess.”
“That’s right. We apologize; it’s a little short on accommodation, but…”
“But this is Japan, after all. It’s gonna be cramped, you stuff all the population in shelters at the coastline. It’s ok, I knew to expect this much. Do I get a room?”
Misato blinked at the rant but laughed. “Yes, but another pilot lives with me, I’m kind of a guardian for you both. We’ll be a family!”
Family. Asuka’s gut clenched.
“I thought that I’d get a more professional treatment, Captain.”
Aha, Misato’s eyebrows said.
“I’ll take absolutely none of that. I’m your superior and Miss Misato is the furthest I’ll go.” She gave her trademark, cheesy little wink. “Is that clear, Miss Asuka?”
“Fine.”
Asuka knew to respect a lady who had her shit together, for a change. Maybe this trip wasn’t hell after all.
Then she found out she was moving in with a whimpering sea cucumber. And when it came to the apartment, chaos was an understatement. When she opened the fridge she was ready to scream. Her So Called Guardian was an alcoholic sociopath.
Misato shouldn’t have been trusted with a puppy, not to mention a boy. And she had a freaky pet.
Asuka took that last part back. Pen-Pen had done nothing wrong.
Next day coming back from school she rampaged through the small apartment, tossing takeout boxes and plastic wrappings and easily filled a big bag with beer cans. She could work in peace, because Misato and Shinji were off somewhere, perhaps trying to get some theory in the useless wimp’s head. When she had taken the trash out she thought about scrubbing sedimented layers of soap and goo off the kitchen sink. Instead she went for a walk. Hikari said she’d probably be studying or hanging out in the park, if it was nice in the afternoon. She was already starting to like the class rep; they were both independent, but Hikari didn’t complicate things.
Misato came in, lifted the shopping bags on the table, and noticed that Asuka had cleaned a bit. It was definitely Asuka; Shinji was in his room, listening to music, and Pen-Pen wouldn’t know the difference if the apartment collapsed in an angel’s attack.
Misato let her hand drop on the instant lunches she was going to stuff in the fridge and sighed. She had been a good daughter once. Now she was content with her job and, lately, Shinji who followed her quietly, hurt little thing. Asuka was obedient enough, when the Captain Voice was introduced, but the deep connection Misato shared with Shinji never appeared.
Misato was not the house wife type to start with. She didn’t know how to help Asuka to become one, either. Would she have to change her ways? Even if she tried she knew what would come of it. Maybe her lifestyle was out of her control. She felt small.
She needed a beer and a bath.
For some days, and periodically afterwards, Asuka would attempt to keep the apartment neater, but got discouraged. Misato didn’t seem to notice; she was absorbed with work, even if she took care of her subordinates… protégés? Did she care or didn’t she? Was she or was she not the contained adult she seemed?
It was another evening when Asuka took comfort of routine: tea, shower, pajamas, lights off, and to the bottom of the bed. At least she knew how to sleep. She was shrouded by a nice numbness, when…
“We’ll be a family!"
Misato's voice rang in her head.
God, what a nuisance. Bitch needed slapping.
As a soldier, everything was temporary. Love carried little meaning, but the possibility of mourning and pain. The army was all she had or needed! But weren’t these people also soldiers and familiar with the threat? Misato, however incompetent in her social life, had undeniable credit in the field.
And Asuka’s orders…
Maybe she had no choice. Why couldn’t she embrace it? Was she a coward? Why?
She knew the answer; she had only one mother. The mother who hadn’t recognized her, whose misshapen face had greeted her in the dark. Asuka gulped for air; her heart began to palpitate, giving her a short breath. By sheer will she pressed the panic attack under the surface.
There was no use in pondering all night.
Sleep took over. And in the apartment, silence continued ever on.