Pull the Trigger

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Shinji had a problem. The problem, he supposed, was not that his friends were dumb. It was that they kept doing dumb things. They were children, and they lived fast, and demanded everything should happen instantly, and didn't know how to pick their battles.

The constantly begged him to play and find interesting things to do. But the things that actually interested him were either terribly boring or possibly terribly unsafe.

Shinji had a multitude of voices inside his skull, and continually forced himself to reflect on his desires and the consequences of every decision. As such, he could not really expect anyone to live the same way he did, enjoying chores for their own sake. He ran and jumped and made push-ups and pull-ups to feel the burn, because to endure pain and overcome adversity was how mankind proved its right to exist. Pretend Imperial Guard training regimen was a go!

If they could have his same dedication, they would find that in doing more, they have more free time to do as they wished. But of course he could not just tell them that. It was hugely unrealistic to expect other happy innocent children to live like a laser.

Now that he had real friends, he found that as much as it was fun not to be alone anymore sometimes he really just /needed/ to be alone. It was exhausting to be around the chaotic emotional energy of other people. It was terribly exhausting to be a pack leader.

It was the 2010s, and there was not really an Internet as much as a non-Impact world considered normal. Many households did not own a computer, considering it a needless luxury. If one had to look up information about biology, philosophy, literature, and such, the best place to look for it was still the library and its networked computers. The world was moving back into the mainframe and thin client system of computing like in the 70s because it was more resource-efficient.

It also meant that it was easier to control information. There was no such thing as video sharing sites or social media. The boyz relied on one trusted resource, who had to take the hassle of looking things up and phrasing the results into a way they would accept.

"Do it because I sayz so" was not something other children would just so easily take from another smaller kid, after all.

Shinji originally conceived of a pamphlet quickly explaining and reminding his friends of the common "Why Should I?" questions. "Why go to school, why go to sleep early, why do the dishes, why I shouldn't mouth off to my parents, why I shouldn't take my little brother/sister's stuff?", and etc. were all essential to telling the boyz to take the battles they can win.

Orks are made for fightan and /winnin'/ – they should really remember the last part more often.

/"Jez krumpin' wildboyz ent gunna do nuffin,"/ the Warboss explained. Even the orks understood that violence had to have a purpose, even if it was amusement. /"Ya gotta lets them know when they're mukkin' about en when dat's just not acceptable, dat is."/

So, Kobayakawa did not like to eat vegetables. Shinji didn't like to eat vegetables all that much, but they weren't exactly horrible to his tongue. It was an acquired taste… but he looked deeper. Vegetables were eaten for the nutrients. Adults liked vegetables.

Maybe it's because they needed a lot more of the nutrients, maybe children really do need more protein and sugars? Maybe people's tastes change as they grow?

Where Kobayaka asked Shinji "Why should I eat yucky vegetables?", Shinji would instead ask his uncle "Why do you even like this bitter leaf juice?"

Shinji uncle looked down at his teacup and wondered.

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If he were older, he could probably have compiled his findings into an essay or research paper to be rewarded with praise and high grades. Instead Shinji had to think deep about how to condense everything into some very common-sense sentences that his friends would accept.

Nutrition and parental authority and having a tantrum on the table that will only lead to punishment and losing time for the things they enjoyed, and wotnot.

1) Eat Yer Veggies

Do it so youz can stop bein' such a grot and get big enuff not to get pushed around.​

2) Do Yer Chores

Wot did you give for the food you eats and the roof over yer head? Wots dat? Nuttin? Den stop muckin' about. Ask if yoz can get sumffin extra for doin' yer chores kwik and gud, so yaz can get paid twice for doin' a thing wunz. Dat's wat kunnin' is, dat is.​

3) Go Ta Sleep

Yu ain't gonna be no giant robot until ya dreamz, ya git.​

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He reduced the pamphlet into three sections: Git Gud (self-improvement), Git Loot (negotiation), Git Loud (getting along with others). It was when he realized he was a hundred items in that he considered condensing it into a flowchart.

And then he rolled up the cardboard paper used to make the flowchart into a tube.

And he called his boyz together, raised the Learnin' Stikk high, and roared "IZ YOU MUCKIN' AAAAAABOUUUT?!"

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This was the childhood of Shinji Ikari. It could have been a lot less comfortable, and he was thankful for it. He had friends. He had family. He had friends. He had accomplishments. He had friends (it bears repeating).

But soon enough, this time of innocence and lack of responsibilities had to end.

Years passed, and he grew, and graduation time was around the corner. He entered his teenage years. In its confusion not even his plastic advisers, being weird extensions of his awareness, could really help. The Ork never had to worry about puberty, the Space Marine had genetic enhancements for that sort of thing and had been surgically transformed into a transhuman warrior while still a young teen, while to the Chaos Sorcerer it was just mutation not worth his time.

The Farseer was a girl. She was being so amusedly unhelpful about it all.

Strange urges, mood swings, and the world being suddenly so slow… he needed someone other than himself to tell him how things worked in the real world. Books helped, to an extent. But here Shinji realized he needed his father. His uncle tried, but this was a parent's job.

Surely his father would come to his graduation, right? As the day grew closer, Shinji became more and more expectant. It's something that only happens a few times in a person's life after all. The boy had actually managed up to second in school, just below Houko Minase in grades and everything else. Many of his teachers believed he could have been more, had he been a bit more focused. He was such an absent-minded kid.

He couldn't visualize that future, as he actually had very little idea of how his father looked like anymore or of what he did.

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A few days before graduation, while Shinji was sitting at the living room reading the printed-out story of Ciaphas Cain, there was a knocking on the door. The boy answered it, and found standing there two very foreboding men. They had one crisp black suits, black sunglasses, and each carried a small black suitcase. One seemed older than the other, pale and grey-haired. The other had the tan of someone who spent much time in the beach or open seas.

"Wah! Yakuza!" Shinji cried out at seeing them. He quickly closed the door.

"See? See? That's what I'm talking about." The younger and slightly taller man said to his companion. "Just once, just once! I'd like to have someone NOT think we're the goddamn Yakuza. Why can't we wear white suits instead? That's got to be saner than going out in black Armanis in the middle of summer."

"What, and have people go 'AAAAH! It's the Gay Mafia!' It tends to scare them even more," the other man replied in an even no-nonsense tone.

"… you tried that once, didn't you?"

"… shut up, Jiro. If you've been in this business even half as long as I did, then you should know even our clothes serve a purpose. The anonymity of a well-tailored black suit say that our chief weapons are surprise and fear."

"Surprise and fear," the younger man echoed. "And an inordinate fondness for the classics."

The older man tilted his head and gave his partner a look filled with such disdain. He received a bright and utterly unrepentant grin in response.

He rapped at the door again. "Hello in there! No, were are not Yakuza. We are official representatives of the United Nations Special Agency NERV, out of Tokyo-3, and we are here on official government business!"

"I'm not opening this door regardless of your credentials until I can get an adult to verify it. Please stand by until then. Um. Sorry."

"Huh. Wordy kid," said the younger operative. "But sensible. I didn't expect that."

"You should have. Remember whose progeny we're dealing with."

"I'm still a firm believer of nurture over nature, by the way."

After a while, the door opened and Shinji's uncle stepped out. He steeled himself for a confrontation and asked "What's this about?"

"Are you Shirogane, Kouta, who is the guardian for Ikari, Shinji?"

"I am. Who are you?"

"I am Agent Kentaro, and this is Agent Jiro. We are from NERV Section Two, and we have official business to discuss regarding your guardianship. This is but a visit to check up on the status quo, no need to worry." He showed his ID and upon it was NERV's red leaf symbol beside the familiar blue globe of the UN.

Shinji's uncle scowled. "… then I guess you better come in."

Agent Kentaro turned to the boy and asked him in a gravel voice. "Are you Ikari, Shinji?"

"Y-yes sir."

Agent Jiro waved. "Hi, Shinji. Are you doing okay in school?"

"Umm. I'm number two in my grade level. Not just in my school, but in the whole town." Yes, people will notice if I suddenly disappear; this is what he implied.

Agent Jiro whistled. "Nice."

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As it turned out, they really were government agents. And they were there on authentic official government business. Only this had the stamp of Gendo Ikari all over it.

"We've been examining his academic records. The expense account allocated to his welfare is well-spent from this perspective," his uncle was told. "But how's he holding up emotionally?"

"What, Gendo can't even see how it is about his own son? You know he hasn't bothered even once these years to ask, so why should he care now?"

"Mister Ikari is a very busy man." replied Agent Kentaro. "He can't just drop his important duties for something so small. It would be dangerous to show so much attachment, his child could be used as a hostage against him. This is why he cannot risk coming here and revealing his location."

"Bullshit." his uncle said. "The bastard can't even show ANY attachment."

Agent Jiro looked from the relative to his own partner. "Uh… look, I know he's… difficult to get along with sometimes, but could please not say things like that about our direct superiors to our faces? It might…" He stared long and hard at his partner's cold professional facade. " …complicate things. Mr. Ikari requires respect."

"Phff. The name Ikari used to mean better things…" Shinji's uncle leaned back on his chair, but his hands were shaking slightly.

"Answer the question, please. How is the boy?" the other continued.

"Shinji?" His uncle thought carefully. Gendo wouldn't send his thugs over for something so small, sadly enough about family that was true. "He's a pretty normal kid. That's about it."

"Are you sure? He has not been… mistreated in some way?"

"Just what are you implying?" he bristled.

"Mister Ikari only wishes to make sure that his son receives all the proper attention due to him." Very little, but not too little. It was a large part of his plan. "It would be unfortunate if he was damaged in some way."

Shit. The way they went on about Shinji as nothing more than an object. Just what was going on here? Shinji's uncle was starting to worry. "He's a kid, that's about it. Ask around. Ask him. Gendo threw him here to keep him out of the way, and if that's the furthest he can show about his concern then he can just go fuck himself."

"Please!" said Jiro suddenly. "Not to our faces!"

Crap. Kouta blinked and leaned back on his couch. /'You're both wired, aren't you?'/ he mouthed. They nodded.

"Gendo? You're an asshole!" Shinji's uncle shouted towards their neckties, making sure no way his works could be mistaken in their recorders. "And I thank the gods in heaven that your son is absolutely NOTHING like you!" Then looking up to their faces. "That's it. Now get out."

That seemed to satisfy them somehow. "We'll be in touch."

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Hiding and listening in by the door, Shinji took in deep breaths. He fled as the agents stood up to leave.

He had always believed his father had some reason for sending him away, and sometimes he had bleak thoughts about it. It was his first direct confirmation of being unwanted though.

Silently, he went back up to his room. He just did not know how to feel about that.

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In post-Impact Japan, just because school was ending and most of the tests were done, that was no reason for the children to start slacking off. The school board devoted the final weeks towards community-building, sending the children out in various cultural pursuits designed to bring them closer to the society they belonged. Usually this meant cleaning up the still-standing pre-Impact buildings, planting new trees, putting up decorations, help out in the preparations for celebrations, and various other tasks in free labor.

He pitied the boyz outside. Eh, he'll pick up a watermelon for them later, this he decided.

Shinji and the others in the music club were luckier in that they were allowed to stay indoors, being part of the artistic side of the school's contributions. He grinned a little at a joke their pianist made. Music was the only real common interest he shared with normal children. He had succeeded in his plan to become friends with Minase through common activity, and in her friend Ayane he found someone he could more easily talk to. He wasn't blind. He could see her liking for him, but she was just so… plain. Her hair, her glasses, her dress, all made her seem stumpy in direct opposite to Minase's tall lithe form.

Houko Minase and Shinji Ikari were academic rivals, and more often than not they got into subtle arguments about methodology. Shinji often preferred to let her take the lead in group projects. He liked Ayane for being Ayane, someone reliable and undemanding instead of someone up on a pedestal.

He lost track of what she was trying to say to him as he happened to glimpse the agents - they were just so nondescript that even he had difficulty remembering their names, so they were just agents J and K in his mind - at the school courtyard. From the second floor he could just make out that they were talking to his English teacher.

Interrogating most of the people he knew wasn't the sort of attention you gave to someone unwanted. He tuned out the world. It was a paradox, and the Eldar in him hated paradoxes.

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After school, he cornered Hisoka-sensei again. It was well known that he favored Shinji above other students, mostly because they seemed to have the same reserved, retiring personalities. He always just let Shinji initiate these little exchanges, and found it amusing to surrender control over the conversation. It was always more interesting that way.

"Do you know my father?" Shinji asked then.

The teacher licked his lips. The boy had the oddest habit of asking such simply-phrased but... difficult… questions. "No, Shinji. I do not know your father. And I don't mean from a certain point of view, I mean that I personally know almost nothing about the man. But I do recognize the /name/."

"Those men you were talking to earlier. They work for him."

He nodded. He had long since stopped wondering how Shinji knew about things. The boy was so naturally curious, his thoughts drifting to the oddest of things. He never imagined it could possibly be calculated to provoke a specific response. "They were asking about you. I tried not to be too effulgent in my praise."

That was a private joke. They both knew just how much Shinji hated to be the center of attention.

"My father sent them. If he wants to start noticing me again, I should know something about him." the bitterness in the boy's voice was unfeigned.

"Shinji…" Why was it that he felt so utterly out of his depth when he speaks to this child, no… young man? It puzzled him and exhilarated him. He shouldn't feel so challenged by someone at least a decade younger. "Your father is an important man. For you to realize how important, know that almost no one knows ANYTHING about him. He doesn't appear on the lists of the world's most important people. He never goes on TV. Very few even know what he LOOKS like. I only know because he tried living here for a while."

"He did?"

"Yeah, at your uncle's house. Your uncle threw him out pretty quickly. It was a short time, while he was between jobs and your mother had to support him." He shook his head at the boy's wide-eyed expression. "Sorry, Shinji. I never even knew your mother. Her sister only married into this town."

The boy flinched as if someone tried to stab his face, but nodded for him to continue.

"Look, the most I know is that your father is out doing something very very important for a very very big organization." He decided to add something for the boy's sake. "Who knows? It might even save the world."

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His graduation was supposed to be a joyous time. Parents were supposed to bask in their children's achievements, and the children in passing that threshold realize how they changed and be prepared to be treated differently. But mostly it was about celebrations. Life in the post-Impact era had little to celebrate, as the planet and its people would take a long time to heal. The progress, the confirmation of a new generation to carry their legacies was well within that reason to exult.

Shinji brought all four of his favorite miniatures to school. They were precious, irreplaceable, but as risky as it might be to have them in his pocket, he felt he owed it to them as he received this symbol of one step closer towards adulthood. Being a responsible citizen. And having power all his own.

He fidgeted in his seat. The rites were perhaps unnecessarily long, full of speeches from the guest speakers about future and glory and hope and coming together and (heavily implied) please vote for me next election. He drew further emotional support from the presence of Warboss-sama, Space Marine-dono, Chaos Marine-kun and Farseer-sensei. Their snarky remarks all through the proceedings made it all bearable.

It dragged on until it was time to hand out those little slips of paper that would permanently kick them out of their classes. He felt as if building up a static charge until it got up to his name. It released as a thunderbolt in his skull.

He went up to the stage to receive it, met by his uncle who gave him a deep bow. He bowed back. Then, back to his seat.

The feeling didn't fade, not until the very last instant, the very last congratulations, and they were all outside in the sunset. He winced as a sunbeam got into his eyes. Dramatic sunsets and portentous events, yeah right. How inconvenient instead, he supposed. He regretted not asking for those orange-tinted sunglasses, even if he'd outgrow them rather quickly. Even if he'd look silly in them. He rubbed at his eyes.

He looked around, past every happy parent and simply exhausted young teen. His guardians let him even roam around a little.

After a Shinji returned, his face an emotionless mask. "He didn't show…" he muttered numbly.

"I'm sorry, Shinji." said his aunt. Shinji looked nothing like Gendo right then.

"I shouldn't have Hoped." the boy continued. "I really shouldn't. I had no way of knowing whether or not he would show up."

Shinji's uncle clasped the boy's shoulder and patted it reassuringly. "Not to worry, we're here, ah? I don't know what your father must be thinking but he's going to regret not being here. Come on, let's get something to eat. Chin up! You're a high schooler now!"

Shinji tilted his head, as if listening to something. His eyes cleared. "Yeah, courage. I'm a high-schooler now!" He even grinned. "Excuse me, uncle. I have to do something."

It didn't take long for him to find Minase and her parents. They were rich and stood out from the sea of sensible clothing. He steeled himself and walked right up to them. "Houko-san!" he shouted, his voice breaking at the end.

Three sets of calculating eyes turned to him. He repressed a squeak. It was like being in the presence of the Inquisition! Shinji turned his gaze down and addressed the girl. "May I talk to you, Houko-san?"

"Mina, who's your little friend?" cooed her mother, almost a jade figurine herself in all that green lace. Her father seemed to look past the boy, instantly dismissing him.

She sighed. "Mother, father, this is Shinji Ikari. Please excuse us, we won't be but a moment."

They moved aside and there the girl waited with narrowed eyes. She'd been brought up to consider her time as precious, specially when it is spent in the company of her parents. It was simply rare when they were all together, a condition shared by many families in the scattered employment of post-Impact industries.

"So, we're like high-schoolers now." he blurted out. "And I thought maybe now we could go out… as friends! As friends! Um, yes. Celebrate and eat strawberries or something." He was feeling a double dose of embarrassment. Not only did he burn in his own daring humiliation, his four other pieces were groaning with and /at/ him. "We can invite Acchan if you want…"

Minase sighed and looked above his head to where her parents were, their eyes twinkling with merriment. He sighed again and grabbed his arm. She pulled him off to a more private spot, uncaring of how that might look.

And there, she took a deep breath. She looked straight into his oddly hopeful eyes and said, "Look. You're right. We're teenagers now. And I've just had about enough of your little elementary attitudes!"

Shinji's mouth hung open.

"I tolerated it back then because it was kinda cute, but it's getting annoying. I don't want you following me around in junior high. Don't take it too hard. Why should I go out with a short little weirdo like you when there's already someone cool waiting for me at the next school? There's some things no books can teach, you've to be born with it. You're only going to make yourself look even more foolish trying to compete.

"Why don't you just go out with Aachan and get it all over with? You both deserve each other anyway."

She flicked back her hair and walked away. She nodded to herself. Yes, fast, hard, clean. It was the kindest thing she could really do. Better have him hate her a little than pine away uselessly. That way her two friends can actually move on.

/'They really did deserve each other'/, she thought. They were cute little kids.

It was going to be high school for her, after all. Things would be a lot different, more people, new hassles and more things to reach for. She was made for more than just this little town, no reason to get too attached. In time perhaps she would view this quaint little place with fondness, but she saw no reason to allow its little concerns to cage her potential.

"Let's go, mother, father." she said in a sweet and guileless voice. "Best not to waste any more time here."

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