In a certain Japanese town, Third New Tokyo City, middle schooler Shinji Ikari wakes up to find things a little strange. After all, the comrades he fought alongside to save the world last year are all living peacefully in his neighborhood.
First, red-haired Asuka barges into Shinji's room in the morning, yelling 'Are you still sleeping?!' It seems she's ended up living with him. Shinji's father, Gendo Ikari, while saying 'Everything is going according to plan,' is baking sweets in the kitchen w
Nerv's Shinji-kun, Awaiting Retorts Today Too - Asuka the Genius's Ambition and the Sewing Nightmare
The chime echoing through the school building announced the end of the long day. Wind that had skimmed across the surface of Lake Ashi flowed into the classroom through the open windows. It had been a terribly muggy afternoon. Ikari Shinji glanced outside as he put his textbooks into his bag. The cicadas were crying, all year round. Even after the battles ended, summer in this city never ends.
"[angry]Hey, Shinji! Stop spacing out and get over here!"
He turned to see Asuka, her fiery red hair in twintails, standing with her arms crossed, glaring at him. Her strong-willed crimson eyes were fixed on Shinji. Her long hair, reaching down her back, swayed with her anger.
"[sarcastic]Again...? What are you planning to mess up this time?"
"[angry]What do you mean, 'mess up'?! It's obviously a strategy meeting for the yuru-chara contest! Be grateful that the great genius Asuka-sama personally drew up the blueprints for you!"
Shinji sighed inwardly. Here we go again. He just wanted to go home and quietly play the cello. Whenever Asuka got an idea, she always dragged him into it like this.
"[serious]Rei already left. She said she'd wait at home."
"[excited]That silent girl works fast! You should learn from her!"
Asuka grabbed Shinji's arm firmly and started marching down the hallway. Despite her slender appearance, her strength was unnaturally strong. He couldn't escape.
(Why does this always happen to me...)
Muttering in his heart, Shinji let himself be dragged along.
---
When they arrived at the living room of Shinji's house, Ayanami Rei was already seated there. Her bluish short bob shone silver, translucent in the light from the window. Her clear crimson eyes, which showed no trace of emotion, looked straight at Shinji.
"[gentle]Welcome back. Shinji. You're alive today too. Good job."
"[surprised]Y-yeah. Thanks, Rei."
As always, Rei's words slipped straight into the softest part of his heart. A little embarrassed, Shinji sat down at the table. In front of Rei, gray felt and cotton for making spherical shapes were laid out. She apparently intended to start making something already. She was efficient.
"[excited]Here, these are the blueprints I drew! Well? Amazing, right?!"
Shinji's eyes turned to dots when he saw the paper Asuka dramatically unfolded.
It was a blueprint for a yuru-chara, modeled after Evangelion Unit-02. No—could you even call it a yuru-chara? The thing drawn on the paper had sharp horns protruding from all over its body, and its eyes were glaring and bloodshot. Its mouth was filled with fangs, and protrusions that were clearly weapons sprouted from its arms. There wasn't even a trace of cuteness.
(This isn't a yuru-chara, it's a weapon...)
Shinji screamed internally.
"[serious]Strength over cuteness! Strength is the cutest thing of all! That's just common sense!"
"[surprised]I've never heard that kind of common sense before..."
"[excited]Look, this shoulder part! From here, it can launch missiles—"
"[scared]You can't launch anything! It's a yuru-chara!"
Rei tilted her head and stared intently at the blueprint. Expressionless, yet as if she was trying to discern something.
"[serious]It has four horns. Like an Angel."
"[angry]It's not an Angel! These are Unit-02's head parts! Listen to what people are saying!"
Asuka snapped at Rei. But Rei was unfazed. She just tilted her head slightly.
"[gentle]We defeated the Angels. So, now it's different."
"[sad]That's not really the issue here..."
Shinji held his head in his hands. The strategy meeting had only just begun, and it was already out of control.
---
The three of them headed to the Muse Street shopping district. The shopping district, rebuilt after Second Impact, still retained a certain old-fashioned charm. Poorly fitting sliding doors, handwritten signs. Just stepping a little way in from the main street, the noise faded away, and the flow of time slowed. It was one of the places in this city that Shinji secretly liked.
Their destination, the handicraft shop "Needle Works," was at the edge of the shopping district. A well-worn noren curtain hung over the wooden sliding door. The smell of starch and new fabric drifted from inside.
"[excited]We're here! Shopkeeper! It's a battle, a battle!"
Asuka energetically slid open the door and burst into the shop. Behind the counter, an older woman wearing thin silver-rimmed glasses quietly looked up. Her deeply etched wrinkles and gnarled hands spoke of a life dedicated to handicrafts. It was the shopkeeper, Fujino-san.
"[gentle]Oh my, such energy. What are you looking for today?"
Fujino-san glanced at Asuka's hands and the look in her eyes, then smiled gently.
"[gentle]Young lady, have you ever held a needle before?"
"[angry]D-don't underestimate me! This is a piece of cake! Who do you think the great genius Asuka-sama is?!"
Asuka's face turned bright red as she retorted. Fujino-san said nothing and placed a shopping list on the counter.
"[gentle]Here you go. Why don't you start with these today? Felt, fabric scissors, hand-sewing needles, thread, chalk pencil. With these, you can at least make something."
Asuka stared at the list. She fell silent. Then, she secretly tugged on Shinji's sleeve.
"[whispers]Hey, is a chalk pencil... food?"
"[surprised]Huh?"
(She doesn't know what a chalk pencil is... no, wait, what kind of idea is that, food...!)
The retort in Shinji's mind spun at an unprecedented speed. His stomach started to ache sharply.
"[sad]Um, a chalk pencil is like chalk. It's for drawing lines on fabric."
"[surprised]O-oh, r-right. I knew that much! I just forgot for a second!"
Asuka's face turned even redder.
Beside her, Rei silently placed the necessary materials into the shopping basket one after another. Gray felt. Extra cotton. Thicker needles. Her movements were unhesitating, and Fujino-san remarked with admiration, "Oh my, that young lady over there seems quite used to this."
Asuka watched Rei's efficiency out of the corner of her eye. Her brows were tightly furrowed.
(That face... she's frustrated.)
Shinji thought. Asuka was a sore loser. More than anyone. But when it came to sewing, she was completely losing to Rei. Admitting that to herself was probably the most frustrating thing of all.
---
Back in the living room, the sewing finally began. The battle between Asuka and her pride had commenced.
First, threading the needle. It should have been a trivial task.
Asuka glared at the eye of the needle and brought the thread closer with trembling hands. She couldn't aim properly. Her hands were shaking. The tip of the thread grazed the area around the needle's eye again and again.
"[angry]Why won't it go in?! This... this stupid...!"
Prick.
"[crying]Ow!"
The needle pricked her finger. A small, red bead of blood welled up on her fingertip. Shinji leaned forward in alarm.
"[scared]A-are you okay? If you use a needle threader—"
"[angry]Shut up! I don't need you telling me what to do! This is my battle! A battle!"
Tears in her eyes, Asuka refused Shinji's advice. Shinji reluctantly held his tongue.
She somehow managed to finish threading the needle and started sewing. But the knot came undone, the stitches were crooked and wobbly, and the felt that was supposed to have been cut according to the pattern had somehow transformed into a distorted trapezoid. Every time she tried to sew the pieces together, the shape collapsed.
"[sad]Why... why does this happen..."
Asuka's voice grew faint. Around her, scraps of failed fabric were scattered. Stains from the chalk pencil. Traces of blood from where she'd pricked her finger countless times.
Shinji's heart clenched painfully.
(Asuka... she really can't do this.)
It was the first time he'd seen her so desperate. She was always so aggressive, so full of confidence, the one who dragged Shinji around. Faced with her serious profile, he couldn't find the words to say.
Finally, Asuka reached her limit.
"[crying]Why... can't I do this...?!"
Rip.
Asuka tore the felt in her hands with all her might. The torn fabric fluttered to the floor. Large tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.
The living room fell completely silent. A heavy silence, as if time had stopped. Shinji couldn't say anything, just frozen in place.
At that moment, Rei slowly stood up. Quietly, she sat formally beside Asuka. Then, without a word, she began wrapping a bandage around Asuka's bleeding finger.
"[gentle]Asuka. You're bleeding."
Rei's voice was as flat as ever. But it had a very gentle ring to it. Asuka couldn't say anything, just hung her head. Her shoulders trembled slightly.
---
Night fell.
In his room, Shinji reached into the back of his closet. He took out a small wooden box that had been tucked away in a dark place. When he gently opened the lid, an old pair of fabric scissors and thread carefully wound by his mother's hand emerged from inside. It was a sewing kit, a keepsake from his mother, Yui.
At the bottom of the box was a palm-sized felt doll. A purple doll modeled after Unit-01. The stitches were a little crooked, but it had a warm, gentle face.
(Mom used to make things like this for someone too, long ago.)
Shinji remembered Asuka's tears from the afternoon. How could he teach her to sew without hurting her pride? What could he do?
(Can I... do anything?)
The next room. Just beyond a single wall.
Asuka lay face down on her bed, crying silently. In her hand, she clutched the torn pieces of felt from earlier. By her pillow was a tattered stuffed animal her mother had given her when she was little. A symbol of her weakness, kept hidden from everyone's eyes.
Asuka sniffled quietly. Trying not to let anyone hear, but definitely.
Outside the window, the cicadas were still crying. The endless summer night deepened quietly, as if enveloping the separate thoughts of the three of them.
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