Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion. All characters and other related materials are the property of Gainax

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"Do you ever think about going after her?"
Shinji Ikari tried to ignore the questioned posed to him by his friend. He tried to concentrate on losing himself in the liquor bottle he clasped loosely in his hand. He did not want to admit that he was constantly haunted by her image. He did not want to bring himself to accept how much he thought about her. He didn't want to admit how much his thoughts searched for her; how he could see her image constantly yet could never really see her again. He almost hated how much he loved her; how much he felt for her; how much his soul, body, and mind had ached over the past five years that he had been left without her. His life had become, dull, pointless, and filled with longing; unfulfilled passion and lost love. [Perhaps I am just a silly little boy. A fool with nothing in his life except the thought of the only woman to ever love him, a woman who was herself a silly little girl at the age of 14, and with nothing else to live for either]. Shinji Ikari did not even have the worries of work to keep him occupied, with a constant government reparations cash flow for his "unwavering service and sacrifice" to the nation of Japan.
Shinji Ikari moved the bottle back to his lips again, and, with a flick of his wrists, downed the rest of the sake. This was how he spent his nights now, trapped in a bottle with Kensuke Aida, drinking and complaining about how Toji had abandoned them. They both knew that was not true, but it helped to have a scapegoat. They despised Toji Suzahara with the same zeal that two friends despise a third who has managed to acquire female attention, effectively stealing the third member away. He and Kensuke would sit, get plastered, and bitch about a wonderful woman named Hikari Horaki. Then, 30 seconds later, Shinji Ikari recalled that a question had been posed to him. He turned to his spectacled friend and spoke:
"Every Fucking day."

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In truth Kensuke Aida had not asked Shinji Ikari about Asuka so much out of curiosity, this topic had come up numerous times before, but only to steer the conversation away from his thoughts about Rei Ayanami. Throughout his high school career he had felt a connection with her, though it was only now that he really saw what had been right in front of him (not that Ayanami was an especially easy person to connect with anyway). Regardless of what had happened, he had lost sight of her after school had ended. It had been straight into the army for him, but he had soon after been given honorable discharge after taking a bullet for another soldier. In reality he had been almost forced to leave for being such an overwhelming liability to the armed forces. Kensuke was constantly gung ho in every situation. Though his courage was admirable, and though he was somewhat of an obscure celebrity because of his highly broadcast actions, the army decided it was best if he just resign with some awards and leave it at that. Thus he was left without his dream, and with even less ambition...which led him to the bar at which he now drank.
"Every Fucking day," Shinji Ikari said.
Kensuke Aida laughed. He laughed at the profanity, he laughed at the meaning, he laughed at his pathetic friend, and he laughed at the gaping hole that was quickly swallowing his life.

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Shinji Ikari stumbled into his apartment and collapsed onto the floor. Immediately his thoughts rushed to her. He almost laughed at his minds efficiency to zero in on the one thing that he felt he could never have. Perhaps the only thing that saved the third child from passing out right on the carpet was a small red blinking light. For a moment Shinji thought he could see the devil, but then realized it was probably just Asuka, and then realized that it was the light on his answering machine. This puzzled him. He rarely got calls from anybody, and if he did, they weren't the kind of people who usually left messages. Regardless, it was there, though. Mustering all of the will power he felt that he could muster, which in subtle twist of irony was in fact all of the will power he indeed possessed, Shinji Ikari managed to pull himself from the floor and stumble to his answering machine. He extended his right hand, and then any of a number of fingers in an attempt to find the play button which, 14 agonizing seconds later, he did.
"Playyyyy..."
"Shinji! This is Misato, how ya been? Wait, don't answer that..."
Shinji snorted. This is what he had branded "typical Misato humor."
The message continued.
"Anyway, I wanted you to know that Asuka is in town! Do you remember her? Yah, I didn't think you did, but regardless she was looking for a place to stay and I told her that I was too busy. So...naturally, I told her that you were probably free, and drunk. You're not drunk yet are you? Anyway she should be there at around 11 so I hope you get laid, er, I mean have fun!"
The message ended with a click.
The faint leap of quiet heart was echoed ominously around the lifeless apartment, and was soon after quickly silenced by a voice of reason. The apartment reeked of loneliness. It was like a silent film, ancient and gray, reflecting the lost hope of the man who inhabited it. It was clean. Sickeningly clean. The bed was made, the dishes were done, and the trash was taken out. The entire establishment reeled with the pain of forgotten youth and lost innocence. The third child possessed one picture in his homestead, a single small photograph. The shot showed all of his friends and colleagues from when he piloted the monstrosity known as Evangelion. It was possibly the most painful time of his entire life, though in the picture he was smiling. He had hated it then, but now he sensed that it had been the peak of his (in his own humble opinion) likely to be short life. She was there, her red hair flowing down her perfect figure. [What a bitch] he thought. And it was true. Asuka Langley Soryu almost certainly was an absolute bitch, and he loved her. Shinji Ikari felt stuck, immobilized where he stood. He was in the picture a portrait of a man, though still in his youth, and now he stood somewhere beyond that. It was a vague feeling, and an even vaguer existence, as if he could not move forward unless he could fix something in the past.
Shinji Ikari turned from his answering machine to the calendar that hung on his wall. It was April the first. April fools day.
"HA...Ha...ha..."
Misato Katsuragi had almost had him fooled. [no, she didn't]. His mind was far too cynical for that. He was no American; his thoughts were not given to Hollywood endings and romance. He was a realist; a 20th century poet with disillusionment and remorse to spare. This place, his apartment, this was his cold harsh reality, his Cannery Row. He was horrendously bored and yet frightened of change at the same time; eager to see the world, yet terrified of his front door all at the same time. This fear didn't help the third child when he heard his doorbell ring. It was a cold, shattering, terrifying noise. The rain suddenly seemed to grow louder outside. [Rain]. Shinji had failed to even notice how wet he was. [The door. Better go open it].
Shinji Ikari turned 180 degrees and walked up to his door. He drew a deep breath. Thoughts of Asuka Langley Soryu did not enter his mind as a person possibly behind the door; in fact he half inspected it to be a nearly comatose Kensuke, or, at least, an armed robber. Nevertheless, she was just as beautiful as he remembered, her burning red hair falling to her waist, her eyes intense, her figure perfect, her shirt wet, and her bra obviously missing. Asuka Langley Soryu was smiling, wet, and gorgeous.
"Hello Shinji...do you like what you see?"
She spoke her words scandalously, with a sexy squinting of her eyes and quick pose, hands on her hips.
"Can I come in?"
If Shinji Ikari had ever truly thought that this moment would come, he did not think that he would remain as composed as he did, genteelly motioning for her to come inside. Perhaps he was in shock, or perhaps he thought he was dreaming, perhaps one day he would look back and know what he felt, but for the moment he was quite unsure of what was going on. Nevertheless, they were both now inside of his apartment.
"So..." Shinji began and finished with one syllable. [damn it].
"Shinji," the dripping girl said, giving her body a quick doglike shake as she did so, "You look great."
The third child felt a set of arms swung around his back, and a wet head laid upon his chest. This was at least unexpected, and at most awkward. [where the hell do I put my hands?] Shinji Ikari held his arms up in the air, and slightly forward, feeling just like the jackass he looked like in that position. [say something].
"So do you?"
The red head laughed.
"Is that a question or a compliment?"
"Ahhuuu..."
"On second thought," she said, "don't answer that."
Shinji blinked, or nodded, he couldn't decide which had taken place. This only seemed to bring more giggling from the feminine mystique presented before him. [Goddamnit Ikari!] Shinji told himself, [say something]. He really did want to say something meaningful, but, like most, found words absent when they perhaps would have been the most useful.
He watched her crane her neck, following along with the movements of his eyes.
"You don't happen to have a towel or anything, do you?"
"...[of course you do] Yah...um, of course I do."
Shinji turned from the woman before him and made the short trip to his bathroom, retrieving one of his blue bath towels as he did so. He handed it to her, noticing the touch of her hand on his during the exchange. [say something].
"I...uh...I only have one bed." [why the hell did I say that?]
"Not a problem. One bed is all I need."
Shinji nodded. [what did she mean by that? Did I just loose a bed or gain a bunkmate?]
"Look Shinji, why don't you just grab some extra blankets and pillows, its going to be cold tonight anyway, and I'll meet you in bed in a few. But for now I think I'm going to take a shower."
And with that she was gone, disappearing into the bathroom that had formerly held Shinji's blue towel.
He stared at the door. [is this happening? She seems almost...] he found that he couldn't place his finger on the right word to describe it, but soon it came to him [...bubbly]. [Was she like this before?] No, Shinji didn't think so. [Maybe she just grew up. Matured. Had a bitch removal surgery]. The third child had no idea, but knew that he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't like it. [Meet me in bed?] It just dawned on him that she had said she wanted to share the bed. [What the hell is going on?]. Shinji Ikari found that he did not know how long he had been staring at his bathroom door, he had apparently lost himself in thought, but once the steam started to slip under a bit he began to come to his senses as her voice called out to him.
"Shinji! There aren't any more towels."
"Oh, um, sorry. I guess you can just dry yourself off with some of my clothes." [I am such an idiot].
"Your clothes?" she laughed, "Okay fine. Speaking of your clothes mine are still in my car, so could I borrow a pair of yours?"
"Yah, I guess."
Shinji Ikari turned around and headed to his room, locating three white button down shirts and a pair of sweat pants. He calculated that he could dry herself with two of the shirts, and then subsequently where the remaining articles. His theory proved a success, barring some slight discomfort from the buttons rubbing Asuka's wet skin, and soon Shinji Ikari found himself lying in bed next to the woman only 45 minutes ago he was sure that he would never see again. He found himself in utter disbelief, reduced to staring absentmindedly at an unfamiliar ceiling that he had slept under for almost 3 years.
"Shinji?"
"...Yes."
"Thanks for letting me stay here."
Shinji laughed slightly in his disbelief, shaking his head from side to side.
"Anytime."