>>112374Alright, here it is:
Shinji Ikari was not having a very good birthday. Another mediocre job interview performance, another round of probing questions about his qualifications, another several hours spent scouring the online job boards for open music teacher positions in the greater Tokyo-3 area to little avail.
*If you’re looking for someone with at least five years’ experience in the classroom, then why post an ad for an intro-level position?* Shinji thought, leaning back in his swivel chair and taking a sip from his cup of coffee. He stared at the ceiling of his living room turned makeshift home office. That ceiling had become all too familiar over the past months of job hunting. He was growing weary of it.
From outside the front door, he heard a set of heavy footsteps drawing slowly closer, then a clink, indistinct swearing in another language, and the sound of someone fumbling with keys. He didn’t get up.
The door creaked open.
“Scheiße, what a day.”
Asuka Langley Soryu-Ikari was a sight for sore eyes. And for rested eyes. And for any other eyes in the vicinity, with plenty of sight to be seen left over. When pressed, she would begrudgingly admit that she was “a bit hefty”, and she was right, in the same sense that North America is “pretty big” or Third Impact had been “a bit of a kerfuffle”. At 165 cm [5’5] and 200 kg [441 lbs], Asuka was a continent of a woman. Her face was framed by chubby cheeks and a droopy double chin; her upper arms were a pair of enormous bingo wings that jiggled and wobbled with every gesticulation; and her ample bosom rested heavily on an ampler double-rolled belly, which, in turn, spilled out onto a pair of thighs that would make a hippo blush. She wore a nondescript grey button-up shirt and dark slacks, remarkable only in that she had had to have them ordered from the U.S., since no local store carried office clothing in her size. Even then, the buttons near her midsection struggled to hold back the tide. It was the sort of thing that Asuka’s co-workers would whisper about behind her back. Well, they never did, since the young director of the UN Reconstruction and Reintegration Bureau’s Tokyo-3 branch intimidated them, but they would have if they found the nerve.
Beyond her size, two other things stood out about the young woman: her dark red mane, worn straight and just past shoulder length, and a black eyepatch over her left eye.
“You know,” Asuka loudly grumbled as she kicked off her slip-on office shoes, “I’m starting to think they don’t let you work in an HR department if you have an IQ over 80. It’s hard enough to rebuild infrastructure and process people popping out of instrumentality when your personnel files aren’t getting completely scrambled around by some lame-brain who’s never touched a keyboard in her life.”
“Another great day at work, then?” Shinji said without looking up, taking a sip from his mug of coffee.
“Oh, wunderbar,” Asuka replied through a feigned smile. “How’s the job hunt? Given the cup of coffee at 6pm, I can only guess great.”
Shinji visibly deflated. “I’m starting to think maybe I should just start offering lessons. There are more kids around here than there used to be. Hikari and Toji said they’d be happy to—”
“Hikari and Toji are sweet, but come on. You don’t really want to run lessons for neighborhood kids out of our apartment like you’re some old spinster, do you?” Asuka smirked a mischievous smirk. “Although you may look and act the part. Put you in a dress and… oooh, that’s a thought for later…”
Shinji grimaced. “Yeah, well, I want to continue to leech off you even less. You’re out there making an impact, helping people, and I sit inside all day and put out job applications that I’ll bet no one even looks at.“
Asuka’s face fell. “Hey, hey, hey,” she said, approaching him from behind and gently putting a hand on his shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself. I know job hunting sucks, but this takes time. Besides, I set an unreasonably high standard. Comparing yourself to me is a losing game.”
Shinji clasped Asuka’s hand and was silent for a moment. “I know. I know. I know. I’m just getting sick of this.”
Asuka gave a gentle push, slowly spinning Shinji’s chair around to face her. “Well, I have good news. Today’s a special day.”
Shinji’s heart fluttered. *She remembered.*
“I ordered a pizza from that place you like over on the edge of town. If you head out to pick it up now, it should be done when you get there.”
And then it sank. *Or not.*
Trying to hide his disappointment, Shinji responded, “Why don’t you get it yourself?”
“Hey, you’re not the only one who’s been working all day. Besides,” she patted her belly, “overexerting myself would be bad for my lithe, girlish figure.”
“I still don’t really want to. Aren’t there a couple of takeout places closer than that one, anyway? And doesn’t the one your ordered from do delivery?”
“Yeah, but they’ve started charging a mark-up for it. Look, I already paid and everything. Come on, I’m being a good wife. I’m doing a nice thing for you. You don’t have to cook for me tonight! Take the win!”
“If you’re trying to do a nice thing for me, then why don’t you—fine. Fine.”
*But we need to talk about this when I get back.*
