The house sat at the edge of the street leaning sideways like a drunk. You wouldn't willingly walk by it if you could avoid it, but now I am heading straight for it. I step onto the grey porch, the peeling paint cracking softly under my shoes. I pull the door open, raising massive amounts of rotten wood fragments and dust as I do so. I cough as the angry cloud swirls about me, blinding me and rendering me immobile. When the dust clears, I can step through the doorway, into the lopsided house. The sight that meets my eyes is even more decrepit and depressed than the exterior. The walls are all grey, with huge, ugly ribbons of wallpaper peeling haphazardly off them, like hideous party streamers. There are massive, gaping holes smashed in the roof, allowing the dull light of the day outside to pour in. Someone has taken to the walls with spray-paint, a lurid, bloodthirsty shade of scarlet that screams at my eyes heinously from all sides.

'Violation'

'Screams'

'Pain'

'Hate'

'Anguish'

'Dolls'

'Dependency'

'Rejection'

'Mama'

'Death'

It's disturbing, and I swallow, feeling sickened. I glance briefly at the abandoned spray can on the floor in the corner. A red stain spreads from the battered can, like blood. On the wall above the can, there's one more word. The letters are uneven and spidery, and it's been written in the last, dying gasps of the exhausted spray can.

'Asuka'

My heart skips a beat. She's here. I begin to advance again, the weathered, warped floorboards creaking with every step. I round a corner, and stop short, the breath caught in my throat. I've entered what used to be the bathroom of the battered house. There is another hole smashed through the ceiling, jagged and yawning wide open, like a horrible mouth. A rusted shower head rises to meet the dull sky, and the bathtub below it is scratched and battered. There, spread eagled in the bathtub, is a wary, broken image. Her skin is pale, like death, with massive dark patches under her eyes. Her hair, once a beautiful auburn red, is grimy and drab. Her blue eyes are empty, devoid of life, of any will to carry on.

"Asuka?"

She doesn't reply, but her dry, cracked lips are moving.

"Mama," She murmurs, "Mama's gone. Mama? Do you love me anymore?"

"Asuka!" I cry suddenly. "Asuka I've looked everywhere for you! You've been gone for days! Why did you run away?"

I knew what the angel did to her mind. But I couldn't anticipate the state she's in now. Asuka's mother, Misato had told me, had died when she was young, but she didn't tell me how. But now I know that it affected Asuka, in a way that seemed to horrific to think about. My former housemate is a now just shadow of her former self. Just weeks ago she was normal. Just like I remember…. Narcissistic, angry and self-absorbed. She hated everything to do with me! 'Stupid Shinji!' she would yell. Yeah, that was Asuka. But when I gaze upon her now, she's nothing like she used to be. She's just a weak, empty shell now. Just like me.

"Asuka? I need your help. I don't know what to do anymore!"

She turns her head, slowly. Then she smiles. It's an eerie, violent smile.

"Liar."

She steps out of the bathtub, her torn, dirty school uniform rustling as she rises. I move away from her, unable to make out her face as she advances. I stumble as she continues, dread building inside me.

"Asuka," I plead. "Asuka, just say something!"

"What are you to tell me what do? Nothing! That's what! You and Misato and Kaji-san and the First Child! You don't care about me! Nobody wants me!"

Her screams are like a slap to my brain. Of course…. She's been suffering just as much as I have. Why couldn't I see that? Why not? I realise that below all the arrogance and anger, all the boastful words, Asuka Langley Soryu has been living a lie of acting and pretending, of loneliness and supressed memories. Things that she just can't hide any longer…

"Why won't you stay with me? You won't even hold me! So you can't help me! Get out! Go!"

I stop against the wall, my palms flat against the grimy surface.

"I want to help you Asuka. I'll stay with you. But please…. Just be Asuka again."

She stops, her eyes growing wide, her face changing as she listens. She takes a deep breath, then…..

"NO! WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE?"

I try to move, but she's too fast. I feel her hands close around my throat, her thin fingers are icy. She smells stale and dirty, as if she's been wandering around for days. I feel the air fast disappearing from my lungs, and my eyes close as I hear a ragged, choking sound. Is that me? Is Asuka killing me? Somehow, I don't really care. My vision begins to blur as darkness closes around me and I can no longer hear myself gasping for air. It's silent….

No.

I can hear something…. The sound of a child reaches me, heartbroken sobs echo in my ears, and, for once, these are not the sounds of my own anguish. A small girl stands in the darkness, her black dress blending into the surroundings. Her small hands clutch a toy monkey, her tear-stained face is a picture of dishevelled woe. The toy falls from her hands onto the ground, where it lies forgotten as she continues to sob and howl.

"Why won't you look at me?" She cries, tossing her head upwards.

"I'm looking at you," I say, attempting to sound kind. She looks at me, her blue eyes seem pleading. It's such a pitiful sight. I know this girl… Somehow…..

I hold out my hand to her.

"Hey," I say. "What's wrong?"

"Mama….." She whispers. "Papa's gone too. Why did you leave me Mama? Don't go Mama…. Please stay. Don't stop being my Mama!"

She talks to someone who does not seem to be here. Tears begin to flow from her eyes again, and I feel a pang of pity run through me. I know how this feels. I know what it is to cry like this, alone and abandoned.

"Hey…" I repeat, perhaps trying to comfort this small girl who seems so much like me.

"Mama…." She murmurs. "Mama….."

I falter, my hand balling into a fist. An image flashes in my mind's eye. A memory…..

I see a tear forming, her lips moving, uttering the same words, forming the syllables like an infant.

"Ma-ma.

I turn away, distancing myself from her, feeling a frown creeping onto my face. I pull the blankets over my head, shutting her out.

"You're just a child yourself."

The image fades as I am left standing in the dark, the same, small girl still standing before me. I know who this child is. I know why she never learned to comfort herself.

"I can help you now…" I raise my head, gazing into the passage of darkness before me. "You're just like me, aren't you?"

The girl looks up, halted in the middle of her tears. She stares at me as she begins to grow smaller and further and further away, until she's only a speck in the blackness. I open my mouth slightly, as if to say something else to her, but she's gone before I can find the words. I close my eyes as I am pulled backwards my some inner tide….

And I open them again. I take a deep breath of the cold air, my vision begins to clear. I prop myself up into my elbows, squinting in the light of the wrecked house. A figure is crouched in the corner, her grimy hair falling limply down her hunched back. Her face is buried in her knees.

I stand, the floorboards creaking under me as I walk. I place my hand on her shoulder, she shrinks at my touch.

"Asuka," I say gently. I crouch down too, my knees disturbing a pile of leaves. I don't know if this could truly mean my end this time, but I place my arms around her.

"I- I hate you….." She whispers, but all malice and anger that might have been in her words is gone.

"Why Asuka? Why do you hate me?"

"You don't stay with me…. You don't care about me. Nobody does. Nobody."

"I do care about you Asuka. Really. I want to stay with you. I want you to be happy… But something just won't let us do that."

There's silence.

"Honestly, I don't care what they all want. Not Misato, not my father…. This all seems so unfair. In the end, we're both just children. We don't deserve this. In the end we have to do what they want. But maybe there's hope for us, together. Maybe we can make this better, because, really, we're the same Asuka. Maybe we can understand each other, as friends."

To my surprise, she puts her arms around me too, closing her eyes.

"Okay, idiot."

The blazing sun sets over the hills, bathing the fortress city in hues of pink and gold. The cicada's songs slowly fade, and only the loud squawking of an unknown bird heralds the growing evening calm. The heat subsides, leaving the city pleasantly cool. Our figures cast long shadows on the road as we walk hand in hand, her feet are bare. We don't exchange any words, but as I sneak a glance at her face, stained pink with the colours of the sunset, she's smiling sincerely for what seems like the first time.

"Oh," I say. She stops as I reach into my pocket and pull out an object. I remember picking it of the floor this morning, where it lay abandoned, next to the kitchen table. I hand it to her. She stares at it, as if she's never seen it before.

"My interface headset…." She murmurs. I watch as she fixes in into her hair. I grin at her.

"I'm back!" She announces, giving me a small punch on the arm.

And watching Asuka Langley Soryu smile was what somehow cured me from all of this. Letting her pain become mine made me realise that I wasn't the only one suffering in this life. I found that no-one can live only for themselves, and that that others mean just as much. It made me realise what emotion can do, and how the smallest amount of realisation and empathy might just make things a bit better. And through that small miracle, I now know what it is to be alive, what is it to be the person called Shinji Ikari. And, in those seemingly disastrous times, I found one thing that I can count on: The fact that I now know how to save a life.

FIN