Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction ❯ Family Ties ❯ Tertiary Bond ( Chapter 3 )

Evangelion Fanfiction

By Otaku D-Man

 

Standard Disclaimer.

Refer Primary Bond

 

Author's Pre-Rant -

After much soul-searching (on my part) and bloodletting and screaming (on the part of a very cute but extremely vindictive Fan-Girl friend of mine. The same one that demands I finish All That I Am.) I have decided to continue my writing. (Put the knife down Michelle. I'm writing, see. Yet another chapter of poorly contrived nonsense.) Although I'm wondering if there's anyone even reading Eva Fanfiction anymore.

 

Family Ties

Tertiary Bond - Phantoms of the Past

 

NERV International - Research and Development

 

With a pensive expression, Ritsuko Akagi, personal assistant to the Managing Director and Company President for NERV Enterprises' Japan Branch, thoroughly and carefully reviewed the latest progress report just presented for her inspection. With fluid efficiency her pen literally danced across the pages, making stimulating comments, meticulous corrections and probing queries that she deemed necessary and essential to the success of NERV's latest business venture. Satisfied that everything was now in order, she slipped the document back into a slender black folder marked by the company's blood red logo and the unassuming title of `Project E' before passing it back to the waiting lab technician. Turning to the sterile room's remaining occupant, Ritsuko leaned back against the wall, slightly buoyed by the progress her development team had accomplished after months of annoying setbacks. “That should be all for today Kaworu-kun.” Smiling contentedly she glanced briefly at her watch. “If you'd like, I can give you a ride home.” A wry snort of laughter escaped her lips as she considered the attractive, almost feminine boy. “Although I'd appreciate it if you decided to get dressed before we left.”

Unconcerned by his nudity, Kaworu Nagisa winked broadly across the room at the blonde woman, pausing to let his eyes roam over her well defined, statuesque body. “Your place or mine my dear Ritsuko-chan?” He asked brazenly, unleashing a carefully cultivated smile upon the woman in the hope that she would finally succumb to his charms. Ignoring her familiar expression of weary resignation, Kaworu pretended to reflect on his offer. “Although I suspect my cousin and her Mother might not appreciate the noise, so it really might be better if we went back to your place.”

“We've had this discussion before Kaworu-kun.” Ritsuko sighed slowly, rolling her head and stretching out the strain and tension that had accumulated during the day. “Please refrain from making such inappropriate statements.”

“I think that's what I love about you the most Ritsuko-chan. That serious demeanour leaves me weak at the knees.” Casting his eyes downward for a brief moment, Kaworu leered back at Ritsuko. “Or maybe it's because of blood displacement.”

“And you,” she countered, “would be much more endearing if you acted your age.” Checking the time again, Ritsuko calculated the number of seconds that had passed since her last cigarette, cursing the legislation that enforced a smoke free workplace environment. <If they don't like second-hand smoke they should just stop breathing.> She thought bitterly, briefly considering devoting what little remained of her free time to disproving the connection between cigarette smoke and lung disease, thereby allowing her to once again smoke whenever and wherever she so desired.

“Oh but I am.” Kaworu responded seriously, running his long supple fingers through his silky silver-grey hair. “I epitomise the archetype of a hormonally charged adolescent male, desperately seeking instruction in the ways of love from a more experienced woman.”

“Kaworu-kun.” Ritsuko snapped harshly, not really in the mood to play his little game any further. “If I didn't think you'd enjoy it, I'd take you over my knee and spank you.”

Adopting a more demure and bashful pose, Kaworu fluttered his eyelashes and threw a devastatingly coy look at the object of his affection. “Please be gentle. It's my first time after all, Ritsuko-sama.”

“Why me?” Ritsuko muttered, massaging her throbbing temples. “Kaworu-kun, just shut up and get dressed.” She continued to grumble, throwing his clothes at him. “Those young Office Ladies prowling the night might enjoy your extravagant games but I've just finished a triple shift and simply want to go home and go to bed.”

“Well, let's ge-“

“To sleep.” Ritsuko cut in quickly. “Alone!” She asserted irritably, preventing Kaworu from voicing exactly what it was she knew all too well that the young man was intending to propose.

Without remorse or apparent disappointment, Kaworu shrugged, smiling as he gathered his clothes and began getting dressed, his movements deliberately slow, almost like a reverse striptease. “Very well Ritsuko-chan. I shall depart and as per your instructions, avail myself upon the tender mercies of the love-lorn Office Ladies of Tokyo-3.” Checking his carefully fabricated unkempt appearance, Kaworu winked at his reflection before turning and bowing with a flourish. “It is a stern and onerous task you have set before me my dear Ritsuko-chan, but I must not fail to satisfy their desperate needs with my youthful vigour.”

“Yes yes, whatever you want to call it.” Ritsuko sighed wearily, waving her hand and dismissing the young, self-styled Casanova. “Just go and fulfil their depraved fantasies.”

Stopping in the doorway, Kaworu cast one last look back over his shoulder. “But while I'm making them scream with passion and claw my back in rapture, I'll only be thinking of you, Ritsuko-chan.” He winked, blowing a kiss before leaving.

From the hallway, Ritsuko could hear Kaworu's gentle laughter as he began chatting to what she could only suspect was one of the young female lab assistants. Collapsing into a nearby chair, she cast her eyes to the polished steel ceiling, pleading with her warped reflection for an answer. “Just what did I do to deserve this?”

 

***

 

Streets of Tokyo-3

 

“Misato-neesan, you really outdid yourself this time.” Of course Shinji was well aware that his words were spoken more for his own benefit than for the predominately semi-conscious, completely inebriated woman that he was helping walk home. He simply felt the need to say something, anything, to help break the monotonous racket of passing traffic and other pedestrians as he navigated his way through the crowded, busy streets.

A distinct murmuring noise and the familiar telltale sign of warm saliva dripping onto his neck alerted the near-exhausted youth that his intoxicated companion was about to be ill again. Moving her as quickly as he could, Shinji levered Misato's body over a small stone pitched wall of a nearby garden bed holding his sister around the hips with one arm and holding her long, lavender hair back with his free hand as she gagged and heaved violently.

Waiting for the convulsive vomiting to stop, Shinji managed to make it to an adjacent bench, gently lowering Misato onto the seat before retrieving his handkerchief and wiping the remnants of sick and spittle from around her mouth. “I don't know if we're going to make it home any time soon, Misato-neesan.” Shinji whispered uneasily. His concern driven by the fact that the constant dull ache of his leg had grown to a screeching crescendo of blinding agony and was now more than he could otherwise ignore. On her rare nights out, Shinji knew Misato always saved enough money for cab fare, but when he had checked both his own financial situation and his sister's, he had rapidly concluded that relocating to Tokyo-3 had virtually exhausted their savings. “Oh well.” Shinji mused half-heartedly, taking a seat next to Misato. “At least things can't get any worse.” He murmured to himself as he looked around, wondering just how they had managed to end up in the middle of the `Red Light' district.

Gazing up at the myriad collection of neon signs proclaiming to fulfil and satiate all manner of sexual desires and erotic fantasies, Shinji pondered just what sort of reception he could expect at school come tomorrow. He chuckled softly, resting his eyes for a spell, recalling the commotion Misato's rather unexpected arrival at the school in the afternoon had caused.

#FLASHBACK#

“Shin~ji~kun.” Mana literally bounced next to the young man, gently running her fingertips across his forearm. “Me and Hikari-chan,” She said, pointing over to where the other girl was standing in the shadow of a large, shady tree watching the school track team prepare for their after school club activities, “were thinking of going out for some Karaoke. Wanna join us?” She asked playfully, her words and mannerisms masking the anxiety that had evolved exponentially as the day had progressed. As much as she had tried to `tune out' the quiet whispers of her classmates, she couldn't ignore them completely. And even if her current actions only incited further rumour and innuendo, the insecure young girl desperately wanted at least this one, nice boy to treat her with the simple, common courtesy that he had the night before.

Considering the offer seriously, Shinji was about to reply when he heard a distinct and awfully familiar roaring engine gradually approaching the school. Across the front of the school grounds he watched with baited breath as a dark blue alpine sedan screeched to halt across the entrance, a shower of small stones and dust startling several students and teachers in the process.

<Please Kami-sama, don't let it be Misato-neesan.> Sweating heavily, Shinji chanted the mantra rapidly, over and over again, hoping that somehow that this one time his prayer would be miraculously answered and that the gnawing fear that was steadily growing in the pit of his stomach would be extinguished. <There has to be more than just one make, model and colour of that particular vehicle in this city driven by a person with a penchant for speeding and reckless driving. There just has to.> He reasoned desperately, as his conviction continued to diminish with each passing second.

His prayers were answered, just not in the way he had hoped, by the sudden appearance of his older sister, who immediately scanned the area before locking onto him. “Shin-chan!” Misato bellowed excitedly, sprinting across the school courtyard as fast as her high heels and restrictive mini-skirt allowed.

The sight of a stunningly attractive woman dashing across the lawn drew more than just a few idle stares and generated several lewd comments as Shinji felt several sets of eyes falling in his direction.

Before anyone could react, Misato grabbed Shinji by the wrist and dragged him towards the car, leaving a bewildered Mana in her wake. “Hurry up Shin-chan. We don't want to be late for our date.” Ignoring Shinji's look of complete and utter confusion, something she had become quite skilled at, Misato forced her juvenile hostage into the passenger seat of her car and tore away in as spectacular a fashion as she had arrived.

#END FLASHBACK#

With a melancholy sigh, Shinji reached across and brushed back the few stray locks of dark hair that had fallen across Misato's serenely sleeping face. “An angelic devil?” He mused not for the first time. “Or a devilish angel?” Taking Misato's hand in his own, he gently squeezed it. ”I doubt I'll ever really know.” He said, smiling to himself. What he did know was that his sister was often capricious, with a whimsical streak that made many of her decisions appear erratic and ill formed, but ultimately when she smiled and laughed, he felt as if all of his inner demons were somehow vanquished. And that alone was enough for him to forgive any wrongdoing she had, did and undoubtedly would commit. Having never experienced love as a child and lacking any real life experience to guide him, Shinji knew without a doubt that he loved his older sister just the way she was.

“Shinji?”

Startled by the sound of his name, Shinji looked up, his eyes widening at the sight. “Miyuki-san?” He asked, staring at the young woman who was, in turn, staring at him rather intently.

A broad, dazzling smile exploded across the delicate, chiselled features of the petite young woman. “It is you.” She confirmed breathlessly. “I thought I recognised you.” Leaning in, Miyuki's sparkling golden eyes drifted over from Shinji and settled on the slumped form beside him. “Drunk again Misa-nee?” She asked with an amused, questioning gaze. “Why are you two out so late?” Turning back to Shinji, Miyuki moved in closer and looked critically at how the two of them were sitting next to one another and holding hands. “And in this part of town no less.” Her accusation lacked any real venom, but was delivered with enough intensity to convince the young man that his answer was extremely important and that whatever excuse he did attempt to use would undoubtedly be used against him at a later date.

Shinji wanted to answer, he really did, but most of his higher reasoning had deserted him and so all he could offer in way of a defence was a slack jawed gaping expression.

“Shinji?” Following Shinji's unblinking gaze, Miyuki examined herself, searching for what it was that had caught his attention. “Ohhh, you mean this?” She said with a disarming smile, brushing the tip of the severe looking riding crop she held in her latex gloved hand across her barely concealed breasts. “I had just finished with my last client for the night when I saw you sitting out here. So I decided to come out right away and check.” With practiced ease, Miyuki posed seductively, enjoying the obvious effect her raunchy antics had on the boy. “I didn't even have a chance to change out of my work clothes.”

“Work clothes?!?” Shinji managed to mouth, unable to take his eyes off the woman in front of him. Miyuki's long, smooth supple legs were clad in black fishnet stockings, covered over by silver studded, knee high black leather high-heeled boots. And what passed for a skirt, although Shinji would later swear it was simply nothing more than a marginally wide leather belt laced up at the sides, barely covered her curvaceous hips and from his lower vantage point, he could easily make out the sequined lace panties she was wearing. Forcing his eyes away from between her legs, he found his attention ensnared by the form fitting black leather bustier that supported her substantial, perky breasts. The hypnotic effect created by the fine silver chains that ran from the top of the breast cups up to a soft, supple studded leather collar around her throat further entranced him, causing his mind to go utterly blank. Several seconds passed before he finally managed to regain his composure and keep his eyes fixed with Miyuki's. Her outfit, he concluded, was hardly designed for modesty's sake, but rather to enhance the sensual appeal of the attractive young woman's lithe body.

“Of course.” She answered, gesturing towards the building directly in front of the bench where both he and Misato sat. “Would you like a personally guided tour?” Miyuki asked, firmly grasping Shinji's upper arm with every intention of dragging him along regardless of his answer. “The other girls would love to meet you.” She continued eagerly. “I've told them all about you.”

Shinji stared at the building finally noticing the large advertising sign displaying just what was available for those brave patrons adventurous enough to enter. Even if the scantily clad, masked woman wielding a flashing neon whip wasn't hint enough, Shinji could make out the faint sounds of high pitched laughter and agonized moans accompanied by a host of other ominous noises emanating from inside the foreboding structure. “No thanks Miyuki-san, but I'm sure that there's an age restriction on entering.” At least he desperately hoped that that was what the large, imposing man dressed in the black suit and dark glasses standing at the entrance would say. He had heard enough of Miyuki's crude, tawdry stories of just exactly what her work entailed to realise that he had absolutely no interest in witnessing the sights first hand.

Mildly annoyed by his frustratingly correct assumption, Miyuki decided to apply a different tactic. Ignoring the gawking stares and overt glances from the numerous passers-by, Miyuki forced her way in between Shinji and Misato, skilfully draping one arm around his shoulders and gently stroking and caressing his chest with the riding crop. Slowly nuzzling along his jaw up to his ear, Miyuki was about to explain to her young paramour just exactly how much she had missed him when a drowsy, lethargic voice interrupted her.

“Hmmmmmm Shin-chan.” Misato mumbled softly, burrowing in against Miyuki's predominantly bare back. “You smell nice.” She said, wrapping her arms around the other woman, drawing her into a gentle, intimate embrace.

Miyuki frowned, unhappy at the unwelcome and untimely intrusion. “So, Sleeping Beauty is waking up I see.” She grumbled peevishly, pinching Misato's wandering hand from around her waist.

“No.” Shinji answered, looking thoughtfully over Miyuki's shoulder. “Just talking in her sleep. She does it all the time.” He explained, smiling at the tranquil, innocent expression plastered over Misato's sleeping face.

“Soooo,” A devious smirk appeared instantly on Miyuki's features as she returned her attention back towards Shinji, “do you often get to hear Misa-nee talk in her sleep?” She asked mischievously.

“It depends on how whether -“ Shinji grimaced in pain, hissing in discomfort as Miyuki overlapped one of her legs across his.

Seeing Shinji's face twist in pain, Miyuki felt her heart lurch as she quickly removed her leg. “Oh Shinji, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She asked, her voice cracking with panic and alarm. Conflicting emotions boiled inside her heart as she hovered beside the young boy, anxiously waiting for his reply.

It took all his strength of will to simply remain conscious as dark grey spots rapidly filled his vision. “I…….I'll be okay.” He managed to say through clenched teeth. “Just give me a minute.” Each ragged breath whistled and echoed inside his head as he gripped his leg with both hands. First the party with Misato's new colleagues and then the long walk home coupled with having to support his larger, heavier sister had finally taken it's toll.

Leaping to her feet, Miyuki pushed past a small group of young office ladies enjoying a night out. “Wait here Shinji,” She called out hesitantly, “I'll get Kou-san to help you inside. Arisa-chan is a part-time nurse. She'll know what to do.”

Blinking back the tears, Shinji barely registered what happened next as the large man he had noticed earlier helped him inside, while a visibly distressed Miyuki followed closely behind with Misato in tow. Memories he had buried years ago bubbled to the surface, drawn from the dark recesses of his subconscious by the all too familiar pain.

 

***

 

Horaki Family Apartment Complex

 

An ashtray.

That's what it tasted like, Misato decided, looking for a way to describe the distinct, revolting flavour that dominated her sense of taste. It was if someone had mistaken her mouth for an ashtray and deliberately disposed of every cigarette the world had ever known into it.

Rolling over, she reluctantly opened her eyes just a fraction, hoping that somehow the morning sun would be understanding of her situation and had decided to stay buried below the horizon until sometime after lunch. The unforgiving, burning sensation that proceeded to scorch her beleaguered retina's, informed her that not only was it morning. It was a sickeningly bright and cheery morning. The kind she hated most.

With a heavy groan, Misato dragged herself into a sitting position, giving her head and stomach as much time as they needed to settle before she tried something rash and foolish. <Like trying to stand up, or getting dressed.> She thought, noticing that she was completely naked. “Have to ask Shinji about this.” It was entirely possible that she had removed her clothes during the night by herself, but it was always more enjoyable teasing Shinji whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Several minutes passed before she felt confident enough to crawl out of bed and begin the slow, arduous journey to the toilet. With each step she felt every bit of her twenty-nine years catching up to her. Stumbling out into the living room, Misato propped herself against the back of a chair to catch her breath and regain her equilibrium. “Shin-chan, can you get me a cup of coffee?” She asked unenthusiastically, deciding to forego her more customary beer, at least until she could stomach her favoured beverage.

It took Misato a number of seconds before she realised that Shinji had not replied or even commented about her `completely inappropriate' appearance, like he usually did. Lifting her head, she looked around the oddly quiet apartment for any sign of her little brother. It took several more seconds before she found him, still asleep under his futon, entwined in an overly friendly position with what appeared to be another very naked, very familiar young woman.

 

***

 

Somewhere on the fringes of semi-consciousness, Shinji heard something that he had never heard before. His older sister was screaming, obviously angry about something. As much as he wanted to open his eyes and see what it was that had upset her, the nightmare continued to hold him in its vice like grip, unwilling to release him. So he stood motionless in the shadows, a silent, immobile observer unable to intervene in what was happening.

There on the hard, cold floor, lay a small child. One of his knees bent at a horribly bizarre angle. Blood from several small wounds soaked the torn, filthy rags that he wore. Bruises and welts were plainly visible, even beneath the grime that covered his flesh.

“Stupid fucking brat.” A harsh, guttural voice spat. Striding out of the darkness, a tall, vague shape walked across the cold, hard room to stand towering over the small boy. The foot that suddenly lashed out struck the boy viciously in the ribs, eliciting nothing more than a single muffled grunt from the small, defenceless child.

Shinji wanted to turn away and close his eyes from what he knew was coming. After all, he had seen it many times before. But like every other time, he was frozen in place, unable to do anything to prevent the coming atrocity.

<Now the stomach.> He thought grimly, followed moments later by a foot burying itself into the child's stomach.

<Then the back.> Again, as if in response to Shinji's unspoken words, the foot stomped down on the child's exposed back, driving him into the unforgiving floor.

Over and over again, Shinji predicted where the next blow would land and over and over again he was proven correct. All the while, the small child simply lay there, absorbing the punishment in mute silence.

Only after the tall, faceless assailant had vanished, did the boy begin to move, crawling over to the far corner and lifting himself into a sitting position.

Shinji watched, nauseated by what he knew was coming next. Tears flowed freely from his sad, dark eyes as he played witness to his younger self.

Dazed and confused, the small boy stared blankly at both of his legs, his dull gaze drifting from one to the other and back again. With frightening indifference, the younger Shinji grabbed his twisted leg and slowly pulled it around until it roughly matched its twin. The only sign of discomfort that passed across his face was a slight pursing of the lips as cartilage and flesh groaned and complained at the casual mistreatment.

Time passed. Seconds, minutes, hours and days blurred, becoming indistinguishable from one another as Shinji continued to observe his former self. The crude, homemade brace that now supported the child's leg was the only visible sign of change. No recognisable emotion passed across the face of the small child, yet Shinji knew that deep inside the bruised and bloody body, beat a fragile heart that would one day learn what it was to laugh, love and feel loved. It was the only thing that allowed him to retain any semblance of sanity as he was forced to endure the terrors of the past.

As if on cue, the dark, menacing figure reappeared and similar to before, the child simply sat there, waiting for the assault to begin anew. Instead of the usual beating, the shadows held the small boy face down against the floor while the dark shape shifted and positioned itself above the child's prone body.

Shinji knew with absolute certainty what was coming next and despite his best efforts he was unable to do anything about it. Bile began rising up from the pit of his stomach until abject terror robbed him of conscious thought and he suddenly found himself falling into an abyss, devoid of light and warmth.

 

***

 

“I don't see what you're worried about.” Hikari said, looking critically at her reflection in the mirror. Turning side on, she ran her eye along her profile, assessing and despairing at the continued lack of development she perceived. “So he went out with his sister.” She stared at the white cotton bra she was wearing, trying to convince herself that it was the garment's fault that she was still only an A Cup. <Kodoma was already a C Cup when she was my age.> She thought ruefully, trying to imagine how, with just a little bit more, she could easily catch the attention of one Touji Suzuhara. “I go out with my sister's all the time.”

Watching her oldest and truest friend's routine morning inspection had become something of a ritual for Mana Kirishima. As soon as they had entered puberty, Hikari had become increasingly self-conscious of her appearance, constantly monitoring her weight and `three sizes' measurements. But then with an older sister like Kodama, Mana could sympathise with the poor girl's plight. Kodama Horaki, the eldest of the Horaki children, had the kind of effortless, flawless beauty that could only be found in magazines. Kodama was intelligent, compassionate and drop dead gorgeous with incredibly surreal proportions. It was only at times like this that Mana was thankful she was on only child. “She called it a date, Hikari-chan. Normally brothers and sisters don't go out on dates with each other.”

Abandoning her vain hope of magically increasing her bust size by willpower alone, Hikari bit her lip and turned her focus towards the lower half of her torso. “They do in those television dramas you always watch.” She answered, swivelling her hips so as to get a better look at one of the other attributes that worried her relentlessly.

“Very funny. What if -“

“Instead of worrying about `What if's', how about we go and see him?” Hikari asked. “It's almost time to go to school anyway. You can find out for yourself what Katsuragi-kun and his sister did on their `date' last night.” Having witnessed Misato's bold performance the day before, she was confident that Mana was troubled over nothing. If anything, she concluded, the two Katsuragi siblings had simply enjoyed a pleasant night out together, getting acquainted with their new surroundings.

“Shouldn't you get dressed first?” Mana said light-heartedly, pulling on the hem of Hikari's striped panties and stretching the elastic band before releasing it, startling her friend as it snapped back against her bare skin. “Unless this is your new strategy to catch Suzuhara-kun.”

 

***

 

“Stop acting so self-righteous Misa-nee.” Miyuki returned Misato's baleful glare with equal amounts of resolve and determination, unswayed by the fierce hostility she could literally feel hammering against her as she held Shinji while he slept. “You're in position to talk.”

Misato shook her head in disbelief, flabbergasted by her younger cousin's audacity. “You're naked Miyuki-chan.” She explained, carefully controlling her emotions. “Naked and sleeping with Shinji.” Misato closed her eyes, pausing in her tirade to breathe deeply. “Just how do you expect me to react?” She asked, unable to believe that Miyuki saw nothing wrong with what she was doing.

“You're naked as well Misa-nee.” Miyuki pointed out.

“I'm not the one in bed with a teenage boy.” Misato countered harshly, ignoring the small voice in the back of her head that reminded her of how she had initially planned to flaunt her nakedness in front of Shinji with the deliberate intention of teasing him.

“No,” Miyuki admitted quietly, her subdued voice barely masking the concern she felt, “you're not. You were far too busy sleeping off last night's drunken stupor to realise this is where you should have been.” Gently stroking Shinji's hair, she recalled the distress that had all but overwhelmed her when Shinji had practically collapsed in agony. Thankfully her friend Arisa had been between appointments and could treat the young man immediately, diagnosing his condition as a mixture of mental fatigue and emotional stress, coupled with severe muscle strain wrought by old, poorly healed injuries.

“What are you babbling about?” Misato demanded sharply, her patience beginning to wear thin with Miyuki's bewildering attitude and comments.

“I found the two of you wandering around outside the club late last night.” Her soft reply belied the worry she still felt.

“The club?” Misato wondered what club Miyuki was talking about when she finally understood what Miyuki meant. “You mean that seedy S & M place you work at? Is that why this kind of stuff is lying about the place?” She asked, picking up an assortment of leather apparel, including a nasty looking riding crop.

“Painful Pleasures is a nationally recognised bondage club.” Miyuki retorted, slightly annoyed by the condescending disdain she heard in Misato's voice. “Important politicians and wealthy businessmen number amongst our clientele.”

“Whatever.” Misato replied dismissively. How Miyuki earned her living was none of her concern. What was her concern was the issue central to their discussion. “Besides, I don't remember ending up anywhere near where you work.”

It wasn't the first time Miyuki had seen Misato smashed. If truth be known, she had occasionally joined in the drinking festivities whenever they had the chance to catch up with each other. But generally Misato had enough presence of mind to conduct her frenzied binges in the comfort of her own apartment and not out in public. “Not surprising considering the state you were in.” As much as she didn't want to blame her cousin for what had happened, her words still carried a degree of accusation.

“What has any of this got to do with you ending up naked and in bed with Shinji.” Misato insisted, pointing the whip at Miyuki.

“Everything.” Miyuki answered flatly. “While you and your penniless sorrows were floating face down in a river of booze, Shinji was trying to get you home.”

“Dammit Miyuki-chan, stop playing games and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“No. Don't do that.” Shinji's grief stricken voice caught the attention of both women. “Stop it. Please. “He whimpered pitifully. “NO, IT HURTS!” The scream that erupted from the sleeping young man stunning both women into silence, their argument all but forgotten.

“Shinji-kun?” Mana cried, barging through the apartments front door. What she saw stopped her in her tracks, stealing her voice away. Across the room, Shinji lay on the floor, held in the arms of an attractive, naked older woman she had never seen before, a look of complete terror etched into his face while his older sister, similarly unclothed, stood over him wielding a wicked looking whip. While her subconscious fears had concocted numerous unlikely scenarios, none of them rivalled what she was now looking at.

“Mana-chan,” A horrified Hikari followed after her impetuous friend, fully intending to scold her for her impolite and improper actions, “you can't just enter someone's home without knocking. Even if the door is open.” Bumping into her friend, she stared at Mana's face, perplexed by the look of surprise and disbelief that she saw there. Following the other girl's gaze, she discovered for herself just what it was that had stopped Mana in her tracks.

Both girl's now found themselves unable to move or even speak, their eyes glued to the astonishing sight of two naked women, one of whom was holding a whip, while Shinji lay between them.

Finding himself restrained and unable to move, Shinji panicked, struggling wildly to escape the phantoms of his past. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the unexpected sight of exposed female flesh surrounding him on all sides. “Huh?” He managed to say, a small trickle of blood running from his nose and down his upper lip. Puzzled and uncertain of what to do and where to look, Shinji looked around the room, amazed to see both Mana and Hikari watching him with wide-eyed expressions of shock and embarrassment. Not knowing what had happened to cause such an odd situation, he looked back to his sister and her cousin for an explanation. “What's going on?”

 

***

 

End Tertiary Bond

 

Tbc (Whether any of us like it or not apparently. Obsessed Fan-Girls deserve their fearsome reputation. No dammit Michelle, I refuse to do Yaoi and Shonen-Ai.)

 

Pre-Reader / Proof Reader - None (Isn't it obvious?)

 

Authors Post-Rant -

Some awfully dark moments in this. Probably darker than I really expected. Definitely darker stuff coming. But light cannot exist without dark and vice-versa. Like everything else I'm working on, this will continue, albeit at a slow and steady pace. Annual updates look realistic at the moment.

Next chapter will see the appearance of everyone's favourite red headed beauty and more will be revealed about Shinji's unpleasant past as well as some of Gendou's.

 

As always, post your reviews here at FFN (Or where ever you find this).

Any other comments, thoughts etc are welcome at -

otaku_dman@yahoo.com.au.

Although I don't check it as often as I should. (Gomen in advance)

Ja Ne ^-~