A/N: This was originally planned to be a short story, but I felt that it should expand. Feel free to comment and review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Neon Genesis Evangelion. Everything belongs to its proper owners. Including this fanfic.
Entertainer Extraordinaire, Misato Katsuragi
Chapter One: Dawn's Early Light
Everybody was dead. Well, everybody felt dead. The city of Tokyo-3 no longer was the metropolitis that everybody in the world flocked over to see the towering skyscrapers and beautiful cherry blossoms, no longer did the children play outside or go to school, no longer did smiles appear on faces of those young and old. It seemed as though the city were an empty wasteland, as if no one had lived there in the first place. But it wasn't. People instead stayed at home, huddled around the radio, and only came out to the outside world for supplies—but those necessary trips had to be limited. Adults feared for their lives, while children watch the skies in hope as if a hero were to appear out of thin air.
"War has been issued. All residents of Tokyo, Tokyo-2, and Tokyo-3 are to remain indoors as much as possible... Food rations are to be sent to the respective cites tomorrow..." said a man on the radio, his voice serious and sullen.
"Do not fret, people of Japan. We, like the rising sun, shall rise from the midst of battle. Keep strong."
"Like hell we can!" yelled a young woman with flaming red hair. She got up from her tattered couch to kick the old-fashioned standing radio.
"Asuka, calm down," the man said, rising from the seat he had been sitting in for hours to wrap his arms around his fiancée.
"What are we to gain from this damn war? Only a shot to the chest, the loss of our freedom, a life of fear including a large pile of hundescheiße! Alle wir sind, die gehen zu sterben!"
He paused for a moment. He knew that she cursed in her native German whenever she felt frustrated, and for the time being, she had a valid reason. Looking for the right words to say he finally said, "Asuka... have faith in our soldiers. Well, at least we have each other."
"But I want more," she insisted.
"Sometimes one person is worth a lot more compared to all of the chaos," he replied quietly.
"Shinji... you are such a fool," she spat, pyring his arms off her.
"Asuka..." he whispered. It had been this way this way for almost a year now.
Someone knocked at the door. "Ikari!"
Shinji opened the door, and saw a panting mailman from the Japanese Army.
"Arrived a day ago, sir. Sorry for the long wait," he reported, giving Shinji the letter and dashing away to another location.
To: Shinji Ikari and Asuka Langely Sohryu, Tokyo-3
From: Colonel Kaworu Nagisa, Seventy-Seventh Japanese Independent Infantry Brigade Base
With a sigh of relief, he opened the letter.
Dear Shinji and Asuka, I'm afraid war has been tough on me and my men. We have been hiking up the mountain and the rough terrain for days in order to get near the shore where the U.S. and British Army are going to attack. Our blunt desire and charisma for war is slowly fading, but we are still holding on for hope. Unfortunately, your friends Sergeant Toji Suzuhara and Private Kensuke Aida are struggling with their health. Suzuhara and Aida may have contracted pneumonia from our travels. I feel as though I am to blame. They refused to be sent back to Tokyo-3, believing "once you go, there's no turning back". Honorable men you know, Shinji. Ryoji Kaji will be replacing Suzuhara and Mokoto Hyuga will be replacing Aida if both do not make it. I remember these are also your acquaintances. As I said before, I'm afraid war has been tough on me and my men. I miss sitting in the kitchen with you and your Asuka. I even miss her nagging. But... be careful, the two of you. Take precaution, and despite Asuka's stubborn mind, protect her with all you can. Well, my men and I are to arrive in our destination tomorrow. This may be the last time I ever write to you two. If I die, then I wish you all the best. Long live Japan. Sincerely,
Colonel Kaworu Nagisa
Dear Shinji and Asuka,
I'm afraid war has been tough on me and my men. We have been hiking up the mountain and the rough terrain for days in order to get near the shore where the U.S. and British Army are going to attack. Our blunt desire and charisma for war is slowly fading, but we are still holding on for hope. Unfortunately, your friends Sergeant Toji Suzuhara and Private Kensuke Aida are struggling with their health. Suzuhara and Aida may have contracted pneumonia from our travels. I feel as though I am to blame. They refused to be sent back to Tokyo-3, believing "once you go, there's no turning back". Honorable men you know, Shinji. Ryoji Kaji will be replacing Suzuhara and Mokoto Hyuga will be replacing Aida if both do not make it. I remember these are also your acquaintances. As I said before, I'm afraid war has been tough on me and my men. I miss sitting in the kitchen with you and your Asuka. I even miss her nagging. But... be careful, the two of you. Take precaution, and despite Asuka's stubborn mind, protect her with all you can. Well, my men and I are to arrive in our destination tomorrow. This may be the last time I ever write to you two. If I die, then I wish you all the best. Long live Japan.
There were two men that were in charge for the Tokyo-3 Inter-City Radio Broadcast System of high importance, their names alone were well known throughout all the world in the days before the war. Gendo Ikari and Kozo Fuyutsuki needed a new spot for public access hours: they knew far too well that they would beat out the competition if they had somewhat of an hour of entertainment that would appeal to the public in their time of fear. And this time, they would choose an emotionally stable person, unlike that extremely religious twit that committed suicide after his wife and children left for Germany.
"And what makes you think you're fit for the job, Miss...?" asked Fuyustuki to the young, mid-twenties woman, wearing a solid black dress.
A Christian, noted Gendo, noticing the pendant cross around her neck. God, not another one.
"Well, I've been part of the radio broadcast system all four years in my high school back in Tokyo-2. I really love talking over the air, connecting to people through the telephone. But most of all I love to make people laugh!" said Misato in a giddy voice. She then reurned to a calm composure, remembering the "How to Snag a Job!" seminar she took a few days earlier.
"High school isn't enough over here in the big league. Do you honestly think people will laugh during these hard times?" sneered Gendo. He seen too many people like her already: absolute failures.
"Well, sir," she replied, in a calm voice, "do you agree that the people of Tokyo-3 are human beings in need for some distraction, some way to avoid thinking of loved ones on the battlefield?"
"I should know. I have a young friend of mine who's a Colonel."
"Impressive, don't you think? However, do you think the public will gain anything from crying their eyes out until the war ends?"
"Out of line, Miss," said Fuyutsuki. "We aren't interested in entertainers with cheap jokes."
She turned to Fuyutsuki, giving him an angry glare. "Stop calling me 'Miss'. It's 'Misato Katsuragi' to you. Don't degrade me for being a woman trying to put a smile on someone's face. The man I loved for seven years is out there, right now, on the battlefield. Instead of wasting all of my time praying and crying, I want to do what he wants me to do... to live strong."
She paused for a second, and walked across the room. She pulled the blinds up, exposing the three to the early Winter morning sunshine, and the quiet streets of Tokyo-3. She continued, "How else can anybody live strong if there is nobody else to stand up from the pedestal, run away from the church, wipe those tears away, and grab a microphone? No one. No one in hell is willing to do so... But me... I believe I could do it. I have nothing to loose, no reputation, no job. All I want is for people to smile again, and to make my husband proud! Long live bloody Japan."
She spat on the desk, and walked away from the building, the sound of her stilettos the only sound the two men heard for a while.
"That woman was crazy, don't you think?" asked Fuyutsuki, with a small laugh. "See those shoes? Obviously a rich, spoiled girl. She's going to crack under pressure.
"I remember one time when an old friend of mine called me 'crazy' when I bought this old radio broadcast system for a large chunk of money," said Gendo, turning to the slightly older man. "I've learned to not based everything based on appearances, despite how easy they seem. For example, look at those Brits, acting all high and mighty sipping their tea; or those Americans and their need to put their ugly noses in our business while stuffing themselves with meat and patriotism. Crazy is what we need right now. Half of the population is already depressed. Why should the other half be? Do we still have her resume papers? We need to contact her," asked Gendo. He smiled. She sounds a lot better than the red-head twit my son is engaged to.
Misato Katsuragi, age twenty-one, lived in an apartment that she shared with her best friend from high school, the now twenty-one-year old Prefessor Ritsuko Akagi. Considering how much she got at her University job, Ritsuko could have lived alone, with her many cats, but her threapist advised her not to.
Meanwhile, Misato was never good at holding up a job, and she seemed to be under a curse; her early days as a waitress ended with her boss asking her for sex, her early days as a mail delivery girl ended with her boss asking her for sex, and her early days selling hats ended with her boss asking her for sex three times in a single week. She never obliged, and spat at their leering faces.
"Misato..." called Ritsuko, poking a sleeping Misato's cheek with an old, rolled up newspaper. The apartment they lived in was more than enough room for two people, since Ritusko's pay check had six digits, but still suffered from Messy Misato Syndrome.
"Huh...? What the hell do you want...?" asked Misato, still sleepy. Ten o' clock in the morning was far too early for a night owl like her.
"Fine," Ritsuko replied moodily, "I won't show you the letter you got from the Tokyo-3 Inter City Broadcast System regarding your... dare I say it? Job."
Waking up instantly, she scrambled to get out of the couch, almost knocking down the beer cans scattered around the floor.
"Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you that you have to actually clean up? I'm not going to act like your mom all the time."
"Shut up and let me read my letter. After all, it's addressed to me, not a stuck up cat lover perfectionist like you," hissed Misato, taking the letter.
"If only our teachers could teach you how to be polite. God knows how you would survive without that 'bang-worthy' body you have."
Ignoring her, Misato opened the letter as fast as she could without damaging the letter itself.
Dear Miss Misato Katuragi,
You got the job. Get here at 8:00 AM sharp. If you're even a minute late we'll fire you. You will work six days a week. Mondays through Friday your hours are from 8:00 AM to 7:00 PM. Saturdays your hours are from 8:00 AM to 10:00 PM. However, these times may vary depending on breaking news, which we will broadcast due to our duty to the public.
Welcome to the Family,
Gendo Ikari and Kozo Fuyutsuki
"Go ahead, I know you want to do it."
"No... I'm a big girl now, Ritsuko," replied Misato, biting her lip.
"We're the only ones here."
Finally losing all of her control, she jumped up and down her bed, screaming to the top of her lungs with joy.
Ritsuko, regretting her coaxing, had to answer the door twelve times to find angry neighbors complaining about the noise.