Notes: If you expect a story with lots of action, sorry, this fanfic is not for you. This fanfic is a drama that will take place years after the Last Impact and will be narrated from Misato Katsuragi's point of view. It is very important to emphasize that I will not focus so much on the technical aspects pertaining to the EVA, Nerv and Seele, will be more focused on the relationships, involvements and feelings from Misato's point of view about Shinji, Asuka and Rei especially.
"There are wounds that never show on the body and that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."
— Laurell K.Hamilton
"Mrs. Misato." greeted the reporter who introduced himself as Albert.
The man settled himself with feigned elegance on the frosted brown chair while expressing grateful acknowledgments.
Courtesies and mannerisms of men eager to prove their worth and competence.
His long fingers of clean fingernails smoothed out his gray jacket to undo imperceptible folds in the cheap fabric. A hand absently touched his chest until he found the object that would make the historical record.
The tapes of the recorder were checked methodically, would be a humiliation of global proportions if some unnoticed defect compromised the quality of the record.
The reporter shuddered not daring to draw the hypothetical scenario of such failure.
His dark brown eyes furtively looked at the asian lady in front of him.
She was a long, dry branch with arms and legs stained and wrinkled, with a thick brittle cloud of white hair falling in waves kneaded by your bony shoulders.
She did not react while the man did his preparatory procedure.
Others interviewed talked about any banality, an observation about everything and about nothing.
It was the social protocol that for this woman will become dispensable and meaningless after decades avoiding interactions with other people especially with the world press.
The break of silence was received with euphoria by the world press. The ex-major of the now-defunct Nerv telephoned the British Broadcasting Corporation, one of the few media outlets that did not completely succumb to the ruins after the cataclysmic era.
So keen was the interest of the BBC that the demands for the interview were promptly met. Misato Katsuragi, required only one interviewer and the equipment needed for recording.
Albert inspected the camera's proper framing.
"Mrs. Misato, can we start the interview?"
The pale and silent woman nodded solemnly.
With a muffled cough, the man returned to the chair, consulting a notepad with anxious sloppy scribbles. It was the interview questions.
"Mrs Misato, the BBC is grateful for giving us this interview, I am sure you are aware of the commotion that the testimony of a former Nerv major will provoke worldwide. Much has been speculated about his intentions to break secrecy after decades of the Great Impact." The reporter finished the interview introduction. Raising his eyes, he looked at the woman expectantly so that she would continue with her own justifications.
Misato's misty brown eyes studied the man in front of her.
He was not a longtime reporter. He was a newcomer to this profession.
hair thin and brown a bit disheveled. There was barely any stubble of beard on his round jaw and in the jutting apples of your face.
His arms and legs were long and crooked with the typical juvenile inelegance of a man crossing the frontiers of adolescence to the maturity.
Even his small brown eyes carried that naive timid air of an immature and insecure young man.
Misato swallowed hard.
Very young. Very immature.
He was a boy.
It could be Ikari Shinji with western traits.
Thorns pierced his fragile heart in his bone cage.
Realizing the young reporter's nervousness, Misato settled into her chair to ease the discomfort in her spine. That would be other information that would generate controversy. She could already draw the scene; magazines, newspapers, radio programs, headlines and other media, with big letters shouting the news to the planet's reduced population.
"I'm dying, Albert. Languishing every little moment. Every sigh ripped from my chest is a breath of life that goes away. The grains in the hourglass of my life are at the end."
That's why you're here .