Conditional Surrender

by Adam Kadmon

Asuka can get any guy she wants. That's the problem.

Conditional Surrender

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

She woke after her alarm. She felt stone-heavy, the cheap college mattress struggling to support her weight. Which made her feel fat. Asuka got out of bed.

Bleary eyes searched the dim room. She found one of his discarded shirts, but not him. She shrugged into it, yawned, and opened the door to the dormitory hall.

Her mother insisted she live the realest university experience possible; student housing, roommates, and a crippling lack of deferential behavior for her greatness included. Which was all bullshit, Asuka felt. What was the point of being special if you didn't get special treatment?

She found her boyfriend at the floor's kitchen area. Technically, he had no right to wander around a girl's dorm at this hour in his underwear but no one was complaining. Certainly not the pair of blushing sluts chatting him up by the microwave.

The girls spotted Asuka's approach and ducked away down a hall after a hasty farewell. She dismissed the incident in a moment. Kaworu Nagisa didn't possess a wandering eye; he was just too damn friendly.

Kaworu was at the counter, gracefully fumbling with the coffeemaker. After all their years together he still didn't know how to make it properly. She hip-checked him to the side and took over.

"Good morning to you, too," he said.

"I appreciate your efforts and love you for it," Asuka meant to say. "Glarblefarb," was what came out.

Somehow, he translated. "Sleep well?"

She grumbled. He should know by now not to engage until a heap of caffeine was coursing through her bloodstream. He seemed to remember and made genial small talk by himself as the coffee percolated.

"I hope your roommate isn't too inconvenienced by my staying overnight," he said. "Actually, I haven't seen Ms. Ibuki in days. I don't frighten her, do I?"

She rolled her eyes. Of course not. Androphobic Maya simply loved bunking in the labs. Drip, drip, drip went the coffeemaker. Sniff, sniff, sniff went Asuka.

"Then she must be absorbed in helping Professor Akagi again," Kaworu mused. "It's a lot to do so while still studying for her own degree. She's admirably responsible."

Those who can't, help. Or in Maya's case, facilitate Akagi's sense of superiority. Bootlicker. Drip, drip, drip. Sniff, sniff, sniff.

"It might be admirable to help her out." One look was enough for him to gracefully course correct down a different path. "Tutoring has worked out better than I imagined."

Drip, sniff. Drip, sniff.

"Although the overabundance of female applicants don't seem to truly need the extra help, and are easily distracted."

Asuka greedily sucked down three mouthfuls of black coffee. Language software reinstalled.

Only he wouldn't question their motivations for learning under Nagisa-sensei. "At least we can agree its horrible dealing with dumb girls." She paused for more coffee. "All the boys are probably scared of you."

"Aida did ask after you again," he mentioned.

"And you can tell your roommate again that I will not be a part of his weird fetish movie."

"You should be flattered he wants to cast you as the protagonist in his film class final project. He calls it a kaiju deconstruction. It might be fun working together."

"Just because he suckered you into doing the music is no reason for me to demean myself."

"All I can do is play," Kaworu said, smiling sadly. "Aida found a new transfer to compose the score. He's an interesting fellow."

"There, see? You won't be lonely. Stop bothering me with this nonsense."

Coffee emptied, they returned to her room to dress before class. Her phone buzzed mid-sock pull and she deigned to look at who was messaging her this early. She regretted it.

"Trouble?" Kaworu asked, buckling his belt.

He wasn't the prying kind. She could receive a lewd text from every boy on campus and he'd marvel at how popular she was. His inquiry was nothing but an earnest desire to mitigate her suffering if it was within his power.

Asuka rubbed her sleepy eyes with her thumb and forefinger, willing the caffeine to speed through her body faster. "Hikari texted me. She invited us over for dinner. Again."

"Sounds nice."

"You would think that. I don't need another reminder of how not to live my life." She sighed irritably. "We probably should make an appearance. Let her live vicariously through me for a few hours."

"It has been some time since we visited."

"Then it's settled. My future bad mood is on your head."

"Noted," Kaworu spoke.

They ventured back into the dorm hall, by now well populated by other residents in transit to morning classes, and not a few of which made eyes and kissy faces at Kaworu. He bore it with good-natured obliviousness.

They made plans to meet after class at the train station. He leaned down to peck her cheek goodbye. She swatted him away. It was entirely too early for PDA.

"See you later," he said with a serene smile.

A few girls stumbled in mid-step around them, gazing after him in covetous longing. Asuka wished they'd get the picture: that smile was for her only. She also called dibs on his voice, his slender hands, the effortless swagger of his gait and that ass. And the rest of him. He belonged to her.

"Yeah, later."

They parted ways as the campus' meticulously groomed lawn spread before them, fenced by a string of lecture buildings and other dorms. He left for the music hall, pulling a gaggle of vapid bitches with him, and Asuka was alone. She tried not to think about it.

/\/\/\/\

Soryu Hall loomed over her. Even across the country, as far away as possible from her as academic opportunity allowed, Mama's shadow was impossible to escape. Having the largest, most expensive science wing named after her only reinforced that reality. So Kyoko was brilliant, and rich, and generous, and a pioneering voice in her field, blah blah blah. What had she done lately? Besides raising the picture of perfection that was Asuka. Well, maybe that did deserve a monument.

She entered, and the other science students in the building gave her a wide berth. There was jealousy in the deference, there had always been jealousy, but resentment from afar seemed to be the new norm. Which was fine. She didn't need her shadow crowded by sycophants. Even if it was indeed lonely at the top.

Asuka entered the lecture hall and claimed her usual seat. The rest maintained their distance, chattering amongst themselves in the kind of blissful lack of awareness only the ignorant have access to.

"Good morning, Soryu."

Asuka glanced up in the general direction of the voice. It was entirely too cheerful for this hour of the day. She grunted recognition of Maya Ibuki, who took it as permission to stay.

"Did you get my text from earlier?" Maya asked.

"No." Because Asuka turned her phone off right after hearing from Hikari. Ibuki was terribly inconsiderate to impose upon her like that.

"Oh. I left my textbook in the room and was hoping you could bring it today. Um, do you mind if I sit next to you and share yours?"

Further imposition. Ibuki waited, her needy shelter puppy mask firmly in place. Asuka was too tired to put up the necessary fight, and decided to accept the immediate burden rather than deal with any future passive-aggression. They did still technically have to share a room. She motioned for Maya to sit and she hurriedly did.

"Thank you. I was helping Professor Akagi again last night and lost track of time. Oh, hey, did you know she has a daughter?"

Something willingly mated with the Old Hag? "Amazing."

"Oh, she is!" Maya said, misunderstanding. "I met her the other day when she stopped by to visit her mother. Ms. Ritsuko is so confident and cool. She's a genius, but she's pursuing computer sciences. It's really incredible how she's stepping out from her mother's shadow like that."

"Hmm."

"O-Oh, not that Professor Akagi isn't amazing. Why, just last night we were—"

And Asuka tuned out completely. She knew it was a disservice to herself to compare the Soryu dynasty to whatever mess Akagi called a family. So Naoko's kid was distancing herself from Mother Inferior. So what. Anyone with half a brain could do that. Akagi was a second-rate brand. Asuka could think circles around any of them. Escaping their shadow was child's play. It was escaping Mama's that was taking longer than anticipated.

"—and the noodles were so soggy we had to send them back," Maya was still talking. "Can you believe it?"

Professor Akagi entered the hall and all idle chat halted. She strode to the front lectern before a densely scribbled blackboard and cleared her throat for a silence she already had.

"Before we begin today," Naoko started by way of introduction, "remember that exams are next week. There won't be a review since you should know all the relevant information. If you do need extra help, you're in the wrong class."

Asuka glanced beside her. Maya was studiously taking notes reminding herself she did not need extra help. Asuka sighed. It was Akagi's modus operandi to instill fearful competition in her students to bolster her own image, self and otherwise.

Maybe such insecurity stemmed from that daughter of hers. Seeing your child surpass you must be a terrifying reminder of mortality, personal limitations and failings. It was yet another good reason not to have kids to begin with. Asuka idly wondered if Mama suffered such—

That thought failed to finish. No Soryu would fall to weakness like that. Mama would see the perfection she raised and feel an abstract jealousy at most. She gave the world Asuka. No parent could do more than that.

/\/\/\/\

She jammed her thumb against the door buzzer. After a moment apartment 221 opened.

"Asuka! Kaworu!" Hikari greeted at the door. "So good to see you two. Please, come in."

She stepped aside, ushering them into her home wearing a warm smile and a dirty apron. She epitomized frazzled domestic grace, a state of existence Asuka neither knew nor wanted to know. She slipped her shoes off and steeled herself for what was coming.

"Mr. Kaworu!" A brunette thunderbolt barreled down the small hallway past the living room and latched onto his right leg. "Let's play! Let's play!"

"Kane," Hikari gently scolded her four-year-old daughter, "they just got here. Let them relax a bit and—"

"It's alright," Kaworu told her, already being pulled away into a fantasy kingdom. "Why don't you two talk. It's been a while."

They departed and Asuka followed Hikari into the partitioned kitchen. From the stove they had a clear view of the living room where Kane was gleefully informing Kaworu what they would be playing today. Hikari returned to prepping dinner.

"How are classes?" she asked Asuka.

"Infested by idiots who don't know anything or have any direction in life. So, the same as ever. How's… your stuff going?"

"Well, Kane started swimming lessons last week. She's really taken to the water, and even jumped in the deep end by herself. We're looking at preschools with Kodama's help… Oh, she just broke up with her boyfriend again, by the way. They can't keep doing this. Nozomi is graduating high school this year; I was hoping I could put her in contact with you about university opportunities…" She yawned. "Excuse me. Sleep is still a luxury. I'm sure Toji has sleep apnea or something but he refuses to go in for a study to diagnose it. The snoring is getting out of hand…"

Asuka forced a compliant expression. There. Communications reestablished in record time. Could she leave yet?

A shrill squeal of delight echoed from the living room as Kane directed Kaworu to die a dramatic death, and he did, sprawled over the carpet. Kane then told him to rise and they were off on another vignette adventure, weaving different fairy tales together, constrained only by her whims and imagination.

Sometimes she declared he was Peter Pan, flying her to adventure in Neverland. Or he was Prince Charming, gallantly saving the day. Or any number of heroes to play off her princess persona. She flitted between them, too excited to stay on one for long, trying to maximize the meager time she had with Kaworu before reality intruded. No matter what they played he followed her lead.

"Kane just adores Kaworu," Hikari led. "He's so good with children."

Asuka decided to nip this familiar conversation in the bud. "You're mistaking inhuman patience for actual kid skills. All he does is let her dictate what they do. It's no different than if she was manipulating a doll."

"Oh, I don't know. He has to be quick-witted to adapt and he doesn't mind looking silly for her amusement. And yes, patience is a virtue, but he wants to make her happy. He'd make a wonderful father."

Wow. She was laying it on thicker than usual. Her oldest friend wanting Asuka to abandon her academic promise and future career to pop out a few silver-haired babies seemed rather selfish to her, but maybe Hikari was simply looking for someone to commiserate with.

"I'm not saying immediately," Hikari went on with a smile, only half-joking. "But someday when—"

"Please stop."

The front door to the apartment rattled open and Toji slogged inside. "Yo," he greeted, before realizing there were extra shoes by the doormat. "Hey, you guys made it—"

"Daddy!" Kane rushed to him for a quick hug. Then immediately returned to Kaworu's side to play.

Toji deflated. "I should know better by now. Can't compete."

"Welcome home," Hikari greeted, and they shared a quick peck. "Dinner's on the stove. It'll be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Smells good." He trailed her into the kitchen, loosening his tie. "Can I help out?"

"Nope. Everything's taken care of. Just relax." She returned to the stove.

Toji chuckled. "Amazing what can be accomplished when Nagisa's here to distract Kane." He shared a look with the other adult in the kitchen. "Soryu."

"Suzuhara."

"Glad you could finally stop by for dinner. We were beginning to think our invites weren't reaching you."

And the battle resumed.

"I've been busy furthering my education and pursuing a fulfilling career," she told him. "You know how it is. Oh, wait. You wouldn't."

"Yeah, I'm too involved in the real world to worry about homework."

"When did you ever worry about homework?"

He took a breath to retaliate, thought a moment, and shrugged. "I'm going to play with my daughter," he said, like she should envy him.

"Knock yourself out, please."

Toji left the kitchen and stepped foot inside the magic kingdom of his living room. Kane didn't notice, deep into a scene of brave princesses and valiant princes. Toji gestured for attention. He cleared his throat. Kane played.

"Hey," her father finally spoke. "Who can I be?"

Kane spun on him. "Dad," she whined, "you're in our story." She shooed him away.

"Come on! I missed you all day. I want to play with you, too."

"But, Dad…"

She turned to Kaworu. He smiled at her, showing no offense would be taken at the intrusion, but at the same time not offering to resolve the situation himself. Toji wasn't going anywhere, and finally Kane huffed in resignation.

"Fine," she said. "Dad, you be the monster."

"But I'm always the monster!" he complained. "Can't I be a good guy this time?"

"No. Mr. Kaworu is the good guy. You're the monster."

Toji frowned. "Fine." He grinned and adopted a beastly voice. "But you'll never escape my clutches!"

He grappled his daughter and she wailed in mock terror. "Save me, Mr. Kaworu!"

Kaworu weakly used his index finger as a sword to combat his friend.

"Wha ha ha!" Toji laughed diabolically. "Your puny sword is no match for me! The princess is mine!"

"Dad," Kane moaned, shoving him away. "You're not playing right. You're supposed to die now. Or at least lose a leg or something." He protested and she gave him her most sour face. "Mr. Kaworu is the good guy and the good guy always wins."

"Dinner time!" Hikari called out, preventing her husband from arguing further. "Wash hands!"

Kane pouted, but dragged herself to the sink. "Can I sit next to Mr. Kaworu?"

They ate. Kaworu made complimentary dialogue with Hikari about her meal of store-bought spaghetti. He possessed a refined palette but no practical ability in the kitchen. Just as well as far as Asuka was concerned. Food prep was best left to high school dropouts and housewives.

Kaworu volunteered for dish duty over Kane's heartbroken objections. Hikari tempted her with a rare opportunity to spend time on her daddy's tablet with a few kid-friendly apps. She was immediately refocused.

Hikari packed away leftovers and prepared lunches for tomorrow. Kaworu washed dishes and Toji dried, the pair in conversation about some obscure Japanese band they both liked. Hating to appear unnecessary but also hating menial chores, Asuka deigned to sit on the couch by Kane. The girl was too absorbed in a tablet memory game to offer a greeting.

It took all of Asuka's patience to wait a full half-minute before dictating the right answer to the game. The little girl looked at her.

"I was playing that," Kane pointed out.

"I was helping you."

"You could have given me a hint."

"There's no guarantee that would work." The kid wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. She was certainly no Asuka age four. "What's that look for?"

Kane studied her. "Mommy told me to be nice to you."

Asuka felt deeper offense than she wanted. People shouldn't have to be told to like her. They should simply like her. "Oh? You always do what your mommy tells you?"

"No." She shrugged. "But Mr. Kaworu's nice to you, so I have to be nice to you, too." She spoke matter-of-factly. She returned to the tablet, selecting a new game.

Little bitch, Asuka thought.

Lunches made and dishes cleaned, the adults reassembled around the couch in the living room. Light talk circulated, relating any other news since their last meeting. Toji complained about work, Asuka complained about classes, then they complained about each other. Hikari and Kaworu played diplomat.

Kaworu talking again refocused Kane, who abandoned the tablet and dragged him away to play.

"You know," Toji began, looking on, "I almost forgot how great Nagisa is with kids—"

"Shut up," Asuka said.

/\/\/\/\

It was after eight when Toji and Hikari finally cajoled Kane to part with Kaworu, and he and Asuka were on the train back to university. It was sparsely crowded by a few late shift workers on board, the flood of drunken collegiate partiers still hours away.

Asuka tried to relish the peace. She forgot how exhausting it was to have friends. Especially friends married to imbeciles and raising their inferior spawn. How Hikari's juvenile crush on Skeeze-uhara progressed so far was still baffling. Did she stop maturing at age fourteen? Didn't she know she could do, well, not as well as Asuka, but better than Toji plus kid? Which was like having two kids?

"That was certainly three hours of my life," she groaned.

"Wasn't it nice to see them again?"

"We can keep in contact through text. Face-to-face meetings are obsolete. Seeing that familial mess in person only reinforces my original apprehensions about going."

It was depressing to see her oldest friend so fallen, and then pretend she wasn't one foot in the gutter. Hikari's open secret desperation was palpable as the joyful family acting routine slowly crushed her soul. She was shockingly devoted to the lie.

"Why does any sane person want kids?"

"Oh," Kaworu said, smiling gently, "there are reasons."

Asuka peered at his profile as the night sped by outside the train window. "Stupid reasons. And we both know Hikari's kid was a 'happy accident.' One that necessitated their shotgun wedding right out of high school."

"Granted, but Hikari always wanted children. It was simply a matter of time."

"Tell that to Suzuhara. Sometimes I think it was all according to her grand design. And that includes the wage-slave job she got her dad to give him."

He shrugged good-naturedly. "They all seem happy."

"Seem is the operative word."

Hikari was a sleep-deprived mess raising a hyperactive child and married to another. Toji hated his job, and the rest of Hikari's family hated him. Kane was a brat who only seemed content around Kaworu. The three of them were trapped in that tiny apartment with no feasible means of escape.

Hikari's academic career ended after she pregnantly squeaked through high school. Toji was stuck under her father's thumb. And Kane wouldn't be winning any scholarships. She'd probably wind up doomed to her mother's fate, knocked up by her first juvenile crush and never knowing better.

"Regardless," Kaworu said, "it was nice to help them out for a little."

"They need all the help they can get."

There was no way settling for a life of hidden resentment and squandered opportunities could be worth living. How could anyone be happy wearing their tired, fake smiles?

/\/\/\/\

Exams began tomorrow for science students. Asuka knew the material but the exacting particulars of Akagi combined with Japanese texts necessitated a middleman named Kaworu. That, and she studied better when he was giving her a foot rub. Not that she needed to study.

So I just want a foot rub, she admitted to herself. Sue me.

So what if she was monopolizing his magic fingers. He didn't have to practice piano; his skill was innate. But best not to chance him getting rusty on the massage front.

Asuka crossed the sloped lawn before the music hall. It was lunch hour and several students were arting it up outside. Including Kaworu, stretched out on the manicured grass basking in the sun, talking to an unidentified sliver of humanity.

She almost hesitated. It was unusual for Kaworu to take a lunch break away from an instrument unless she was present. When he wasn't focused on her, he was focused on music. And even then, he was thinking about Asuka. Who wouldn't?

Seeing him act contrary to established behavior colored him a shade unfaithful. Rationally she dismissed it, yet still approached with a point to prove.

"Asuka," he waved her over as she neared, pretending for all the world like nothing was amiss.

She stopped a yard away from any embrace and crossed her arms. "Was there a bomb scare or something?"

He smiled in pleasant confusion as he stood. "Just eating outdoors today."

She nodded to the generic boy beside him. "With company?"

Kaworu's smile turned strangely proud, she thought. He looked at the boy.

"Asuka," he spoke, "this is Shinji Ikari."

His tone implied reverent interest. That tone should be reserved for her, and maybe that bistro downtown that made those really good sandwiches.

"Who?"

"The composer for Aida's film," Kaworu explained. "I could have sworn I mentioned him before…"

Asuka shrugged. Anything involving Aida was best forgotten as quickly as possible.

"Um, hello," Shinji greeted, then finally stood. He took a breath to say more.

"Good for you." She turned to her boyfriend. "We need to go. You have that thing you need to do right now."

"Oh. Okay."

After Kaworu's unnecessary farewell to anonymous personified, Asuka was leading him back to her dorm room. Her feet wouldn't massage themselves. He ruined the anticipation by talking.

"What did you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

"Shinji Ikari."

"What's there to think about?"

Kaworu almost frowned. "I suppose it isn't fair to form an opinion until you hear him play…"

Which would happen over her dead body. "You're that impressed?"

"His ability to create music is truly enviable."

She scoffed. "Any clown can put two notes together and call it music. It takes someone special to do it right."

"Indeed."

They reached her dorm and she forbade any further conversation not related to feet. He expertly worked bipedal magic as she drifted over her biology texts. Kaworu was in high spirits the rest of his break. The foot rub was better than anticipated.

/\/\/\/\

She pushed open the doors of Soryu Hall on her way to Akagi's advanced biology class. A collection of girls were outside the classroom, gathered around a bulletin board. Exams were finally over, and results were posted for the science student body to again realize who their superior was. Asuka slowed her gait as their conversation reached her ears and she slid behind a bend in the hall.

"Well," a thin girl said, "Soryu scored top. Again."

"Shocking."

"Yeah. I guess that chip on her shoulder is going to get heavier now."

"You're roommates with her, right, Ibuki?" another girl asked Maya, who was among the crowd. "What's it like?"

"Um…" She fidgeted. "You know, we don't really see each other that often. I mean, I'm busy with professor Akagi and Soryu is busy with, um, other things."

"Other things?"

A heavy girl piped up. "Being a star test-taker doesn't come cheap."

"Yeah. I'm sure she's either cheating somehow, or cramming twenty-four/seven."

Asuka smirked. Such jealousy in her peers.

Another student shrugged. "But like, what else does she have going for her? Good grades and a free ride because of her mom only go so far."

"Or she'll just coast by on her looks."

"You call that pretty?"

"It seems it was enough to capture a hotty."

"For now. A hold like hers is tenuous. And keeping such a tight leash on her boyfriend must be exhausting."

The girls giggled.

"God," the thin girl sighed, "Nagisa is so freaking hot."

"I know, right? Like, crazy hot."

"And not just hot, but he's cool and talented, too."

"And smart."

"And nice."

"And hot."

"You said that already."

"It bears repeating."

They giggled again.

"How did Soryu land a guy like him?"

Asuka stared in bemusement. What on earth did that mean? She expected envy from these petty low-level skanks but that was staggeringly delusional.

"I know, right? It's not as if Nagisa's hurting for potential girlfriends. What gives?"

"Everybody knows Soryu's so below him… did she blackmail him maybe?"

"Or he feels sorry for her? She tries so hard to be as good as him."

"Ibuki, do you have any ideas?"

"They met young," Maya said. "I think they were dating since grade school." She shrugged. "I suppose Nagisa never knew better."

Asuka stumbled. Even Ibuki?

She was cold. A wave of dizzy nausea swept over her and she was forced to grab the wall for support. People… people thought Kaworu was settling for her?

Utter nonsense. She was a perfect star unto the sun and everyone knew it, Kaworu first and foremost. She chose him. She was the instigator at every step. There was no mistaking that, no matter how admired he was and how jealous everyone was of her. To think otherwise was to fundamentally misunderstand who wore the pants in the relationship, even if Kaworu was brilliant and talented and kind and popular and hot and—

Asuka fought back some bile. Oh, God.

Did his brilliance outshine her own?

Back in grade school they were the top two, the ultimate teenage power couple. Somewhere in the transition to university the comfortable small pond she was accustomed to exploded outward into a vast sea and she no longer was the obvious big fish. The suck-ups orbiting her drifted away; the world demanded more from her. It was messy and lonely.

But Kaworu never faltered. He adeptly swam with the current, meeting new people and expanding his horizons while wearing a tranquil smile. Like he enjoyed the challenge.

Like it wasn't a challenge at all.

No, she thought. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

Even if their world had changed, they had not. They remained Asuka and her guy. Not Kaworu the gorgeous piano genius who walked on water and that chick. No matter what the others said. No matter what anyone said. She knew it, and he knew it. She knew it.

/\/\/\/\

She wasn't looking for ego reinforcement, she told herself. She was only wheeling out of the science hall and skipping class to fulfill a sudden irresistible urge to see her boyfriend. He deserved a treat. Not like she'd learn anything new in class from Akagi, anyway. This had nothing to do with a solipsistic need to reaffirm her own dominance.

Asuka entered the music wing, an architect student's pretentious wet dream. It was a convoluted tangle of private practice rooms, lecture halls and two theaters for full orchestras. She rarely visited, content with letting Kaworu be musically brilliant on his own. She played the violin but it was never a passion or even a hobby; Mama declared she would learn an instrument and she did, through sweat and tears. It wasn't like Kaworu's effortless talent.

She found the practice room he frequented. Natural light poured in from high windows. At the head of the room Shinji Ikari composed for an audience of empty chairs.

Asuka stayed at the door and listened. This was what Kaworu spoke so highly of? This sad assault of a cello? He was rarely impressed with anything outside the subject of Asuka Langley Soryu, so she held the inkling of a minor interest in this boy. And this was what greeted her. Even if her idea of high musical art was progressive German nu death metal, she could tell when someone was committing a crime with a classical instrument.

Shinji continued on for a moment, stopped abruptly and scribbled a few notations on his messy sheet music. He stretched and set to restart when he realized he wasn't alone anymore.

"Oh," he said, turning around in his seat. The relaxed frenzy he attacked his cello with dissolved under a bright anxious discomfort. "Uh, hello? Ms. Soryu, right?"

"Akari, wasn't it?"

"Ikari."

Whatever. "Whatever. Where's Kaworu? He should be here."

"He and Aida stepped out to secure some new instruments for the film. They should be back soon. Sorry."

Asuka snorted. She tapped her foot. She sighed and entered the room, depositing herself at an empty chair to wait. Shinji returned to his music, marking more notes, but refrained from playing. She studied him, and he bore it with a tense self-consciousness.

So this skinny pile of nerves was Kaworu's new besty. What on earth did he see in him? It spoke to his calmly pathological need to make those less fortunate happy. Or his latent bisexuality Asuka had to hammer down regularly.

She needed a distraction from the encroaching cloud of negativity and spoke: "So. You're like the composer, huh?" He affirmed that he was like the composer. "You're really on scholarship here for it?"

"Actually, no. Music is more of a hobby for me. My parents discouraged it, but Kaworu has been really supportive."

She eyed him. "You call him by his first name?"

Far be it for her to question the insane personal decorum of the Japanese but this rookie in the Kaworu-bowl was aiming for the fences if he was already on a first name basis. It took even Aida a couple months for that play, mostly due to Asuka's constant refrain of not befriending that weirdo.

"Yeah," Shinji answered, having no clue of the minefield he was pissing about in. "He, uh, said I should."

Should? Obviously Mr. Nagisa was on too lenient a leash. Let all the sluts in the world try to flirt with him; she wasn't worried about any girl competing. Some unassuming homo from leftfield with musical aspirations and a hangdog demeanor? Yeah. That worried her.

"You two seem awfully close," she began.

"We've just spent a lot of time together recently for the film. There are only a few weeks left before the deadline, so we need to work quickly."

People need to breathe and need to eat. Nobody needs to collaborate on Aida's nerd cinema. "Good luck with that," she said, almost meaning it.

He thanked her without irony. She rolled her eyes.

The door to the room opened and Kaworu entered. He brightened in surprise at seeing his girlfriend.

"Hello. Don't you have class right now?" he asked in agreeable confusion.

Terrific greeting. Asuka stepped close to scowl at him. "So you don't want to see me."

"Of course I do. I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"The only trouble is me showing up Akagi again." She nodded at the door. "Let's get going."

"A moment," Kaworu told her, and walked past her to address Shinji. "I need to step out. Please continue until I return."

"Sure. Uh, where's Aida?"

"He remained with the guitarist we found. Something about helping him with a website."

Great. One less headache to deal with. Asuka would take any break she could get from Aida's asexual obsession with her.

She dragged Kaworu into the hall and turned on him. She stared him down. Or tried to. He just smiled pleasantly at her.

"You. Me," she began. "We're screwing tonight."

His interest piqued, but not at the prospect of a sure thing. "Is it an occasion?" He then puzzled over a possible missed anniversary.

Asuka put her head in her hands. No blood should have been able to reach his brain at the moment. Why couldn't he just be a guy when it mattered? This was not helping the concept he was settling for her.

"No," she said. "No, I just… We're doing it tonight, alright? You could act like you're happy."

"Of course I'm happy to spend time with you."

Her head went back in her hands. This was prom night all over again.

He touched her arm and she let him. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"Everything is fine. Peachy keen." Asuka swallowed anxiety and fear and second thoughts. "Just be ready. I'm going to run you into the ground later."

Kaworu hummed a laugh and kissed her forehead just below the hairline. She didn't want to think he was patronizing her, so she didn't. That's right. It was simply his usual carefree carelessness. He may keep everyone, and she meant everyone, within arm's reach, but she was the only one he embraced. Her earlier concerns dissolved a bit into a mushy hash dragging around her feet.

"Until then," he said.

They parted. And he returned to the music room. She remained in the hallway alone. It wasn't that Asuka felt intentionally tricked, just a little diverted. It was a struggle to stay angry around him. He naturally invited a calming of frayed nerves. She tried to recapture the existential dread gripping her just minutes ago and failed.

She shrugged.

Asuka checked her watch. If she hurried she could catch Ibuki on the way out of class to subtly order her to steer clear of their room tonight.

/\/\/\/\

She woke by degrees the next morning with a languid stretch. Warm sunlight poked through the blinds, displaying lazy dust motes floating in the air. At the moment, Asuka did not hate it.

For all the newfound faults Kaworu held, he at least remained great in bed. He possessed a calm, refined confidence but was not above asking for input. He never suggested anything beyond the pale, yet remained open to any of her whims. He always breathed her name when he climaxed.

It was more than enough to restore her faith in herself. Yesterday was a memory. Those girls had no clue about her and Kaworu. She wore the pants in this relationship, even when they weren't wearing any pants.

Asuka rolled out of bed with the usual uncoordinated early morning lethargy. She misjudged the distance to the floor and banged her shoulder against the corner of the nightstand. Her left foot sank into the wastepaper basket. She recoiled and tripped, sprawled over the floor in a heap of dirty clothes and garbage.

At least no one saw it. She'd take repressed private humiliation over public any day. She rubbed her sore shoulder and used an old sock to push the trash back into the wastepaper basket. She stopped. She stared. It took a moment for her eyes to convey what she saw to her brain, and for emotion to roar through the stubborn gauzy shroud of sleep.

"Nagisa!"

White hot fury worked better than any amount of caffeine to jumpstart mental faculties and language abilities. Asuka stormed out of the bedroom into the common kitchen. Kaworu was there making a joke of the coffeemaker again. This time, there were three girls around him, each trying to display their subpar wares. Everyone turned to Asuka's rampage over the dirty carpet.

She withered the girls with a look. "Get the fuck out of my sight."

They were hightailing it by "fuck out."

"Good morning—" he began.

She threw it at him. He caught it on reflex with a confused smile. It turned perplexed when he realized what he held.

"You know what that is?" she bit out.

"It appears to be the condom we used last night."

"It's the empty condom we used last night. Why the hell would you tie off an empty condom?"

She waited for his answer, panting. He opened his mouth.

"Because—"

"Because you…" She took a breath and forced the words out. "Because you faked it last night."

Kaworu paused only a moment. "Yes, but—"

"So you admit it—?!"

"—but you told me you get sensitive after you climax, so I stop. I don't mind."

It felt like he punched her. "You mean this isn't the first time?"

He had to refute it. He had to say it was a fluke. He had better tell her he was fantasizing about some other inferior woman for some bizarre reason. He had to.

"I never want to cause you any discomfort," he told her with a gentle smile.

She stared at him. At the boy she loved since junior high; the best friend who comforted her after that disastrous fling with the scruffy gym teacher, the good-natured rival who pushed her to be better than she was, the confidant whose ears were always tuned to her voice, the beautiful angel that made this ugly world full of shoujo manga sparkles and bubbles.

At the guy who got along better with her friends than she did. At the infuriatingly calm mediator who never failed to trick her into abandoning a fight. At the know-it-all who always finished the Sunday crossword in ink without hints. At the early riser who still couldn't figure out the coffeemaker. At the honor student with the effortless 4.0 GPA. At the free ride scholarship musician who played by ear without any formal training. At the competitor who she bitterly admitted never stopped improving even when she did. At the adored public idol who was settling for her. At the faker.

"We need to break up," Asuka said.

"Why?"

She had, on occasion, tried to imagine how Kaworu would react to adverse events concerning their relationship. Academic transfers. Family tragedies. Pregnancy scares. The last and next ten years' Sexiest Man Alive deciding to court her at once. In every instance, she fancied some visceral, raw human emotion from him as he valiantly strove to keep them together. Looking back, she should have expected what she got: calm, pragmatic, unoffended patience.

"Because," she said, "I am not some fragile little girl that needs to be lied to. I am not a delicate flower you need to shelter. I am Asuka Langley Soryu and you do not know what is best for me."

"Let's talk about this."

No, she thought. He was not going to defuse the bomb this time.

"Fuck talking." She remembered him breathing her name last night. "How can I believe anything you say? Why should I? I'm not going to spend my time with someone who coddles and lies to me like a goddamned baby. Your arrogant divine protection isn't doing jack shit except propping up your own need to be everyone's perfect martyr. I'm sick of your messiah complex. How could anyone be happy supporting that?!"

"You're not happy?" he asked. He sounded almost upset.

"No!" she blurted.

She had to burn this bridge. Burn it so badly the interior department deemed it a biohazard and cordoned off the site for generations.

Kaworu looked affected. "I want you to be happy."

"Then stay the hell out of my face, you faking fuck!"

She was panting through her teeth, eyes wide and wild.

At length his gaze left hers, he turned from the kitchen and returned to her dorm room. She distantly heard him getting dressed.

She clawed at the counter for support. The room was spinning. Her body was light and disobedient. She gritted her teeth against her stomach. Regaining control of her life wasn't supposed to feel this bad.

Kaworu emerged from her room and paused in the hallway behind her. He drew a breath.

"Asuka—" he started.

She grabbed the empty coffee pot and hurled it at him. He deftly caught it and set it on the floor. When he rose the impression of regret flitted over his features. He turned and without another word left the dorm.

Asuka was alone. She pushed away from the counter. Her head swam only a moment. Exhaustion wrapped around her and dragged her towards bed.

She almost tripped over the coffee pot. Asuka kicked it as hard as she could across the kitchen.

/\/\/\/\

The Beast was not the bar for raucous frat boys or obnoxious sluts. It was not the bar for gleefully exclusive parties celebrating the merits of a student film festival winner and his team. It was a bar for the quiet appreciation of alcohol. The crushing weight of watching your life unravel was just an unfortunate side effect of entering alone. Its subdued atmosphere, the whispering vinyl jukebox in the corner, and the weathered acoustic guitar mounted over the exit did not mark it as a rowdy twenty-something hotspot to get hammered in. Here, alcohol was a memory-eroding crutch, not a whitewater slip-and-slide to STD-laden regret.

Asuka sat alone at the front bar, elbows on the polished counter, three long sips into lovely dark brown oblivion. Her stool, and everyone knew it was Her stool for the past two months, was not the most welcoming seat for someone lacking extra baggage in the rear but it was closest to the alcohol. And tonight she needed a lot of it.

Campus was abuzz with the triumph of Aida's student film at the annual festival, sweeping first place in categories from directing to score. And acting, as a weird foreign transfer with glasses took the spotlight with her star-making performance as the movie's hot-blooded heroine. The role Aida wrote for her, Asuka bitterly reminded herself. How dare some nobody from some backwater country steal her thunder. How dare Aida not scrap the project when Asuka refused to star in it. How dare the world keep moving without her. She drained her glass.

The bar's door opened with a gentle rattle. Someone approached.

"Mr. Aoba," he addressed the bartender with a short wave.

He looked up from stereotypically wiping a shot glass dry. "Hey, Mr. Ikari. What on earth are you doing in my dive tonight? You should be out living it up, Mr. Composer."

Shinji smiled self-consciously. "It was actually getting a bit crowded at Aida's party. I wanted to say thank you again for playing with us on the score. And to give you a copy." He handed over a flash drive.

"So I didn't butcher the piece completely?"

"No, no. You sounded excellent. That Spanish guitar you brought worked great for the tango scene."

"Good. I didn't want to screw it up for Aida. He helped me set up The Beast's website. Tell him I'm glad everything worked out."

Asuka, slouched over the bar, flourished her empty glass at him. "I'm not paying you to run your jaw at the locals, Mr. Booze Bunny. Give me a refill."

Aoba offered a wry wave and plucked a slim bottle from the shelf behind him. "Of course, Ms. Soryu."

"Soryu?" Shinji finally bothered to notice the pile of misery warming the stool beside him. "Ms. Soryu?"

"I know you?"

"Uh, it's me, Shinji Ikari? We met twice before."

"Lucky you." She started on her refreshed drink. "You obviously remember me."

"Of course. Soryu's a pretty famous name."

"Yeah, yeah," Asuka grumbled. "I'm the daughter of the Kyoko Zeppelin Soryu. Hold your applause, please."

"Oh, uh, no. I meant the Soryu who completed the medical admissions exam at sixteen, but opted to stay in high school. I still remember that."

She sat a little straighter. Where her mother decried the move of taking the test for the sole purpose of turning it down as egotistically shortsighted, Shinji sounded awestruck. Even Kaworu had gently questioned her for sticking around grade school.

Asuka glanced at him. "You heard about that?"

"Of course. I thought it was really amazing that someone wanted to remain grounded in a normal high school instead of showing off by skipping to university."

Well, let him think that.

"Why don't you have a seat?" she posed, nodding at the forever empty stool beside her.

Shinji's brain misfired. "Really?"

And she already regretted it. "If you have something more important to attend to…"

"Uh, no. I mean, thanks." He sat. After a moment, he ordered.

She snorted at his selection. "Yebisu? That cheap swill?"

"When I was a kid my babysitter used to let me sneak sips." He took a gulp and smiled to himself. "It's nostalgic, I guess."

Asuka tried to stay awake. The Japanese probably considered it rude to doze off in the middle of a conversation.

Her phone buzzed and she blearily checked who it was. Hikari was yet again trying to contact her, briefly communicating concern over her wellbeing. This was a periodic occurrence since The Great Breakup, Hikari going so far as to try and reconcile the two. That ended with an extended trip to The Beast.

For someone like Hikari, doomed to a life of servitude and childrearing, to pretend to know better than Asuka and meddle in her personal affairs was beyond the pale. How dare she. It only served to steel Asuka's resolve. She was in control, and woe be it to the fool who thought otherwise.

"Everything okay?" Shinji asked, watching her face.

"Just some moron from class," she lied, tucking the phone away. "Which could be anyone in class." She peered at him. "What are you taking here, anyway?"

He told her his major was Theoretical Chemistry. She asked him to explain it. He did. She asked him to stop explaining it.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess the technical stuff is kind of boring."

All of it was boring. But it was definitely no ordinary field. He probably had any number of post-grad and employment opportunities already awaiting him. It proved he was intelligent and talented, but in a very narrow, impossibly specialized way. Not like her intelligence and talent, which excelled at traversing boundaries. Let him be good at something nobody really understood or needed. Let him be content with that.

"I'm a bit jealous of you," Shinji admitted. "All I can do is research. You're going into a field that'll help people directly. But it seems very difficult."

Difficult if she didn't have Mama drilling the information into her since toddler years. By now it was little more than rote information regurgitated on command for examinations. But even that required an elite's skill. At least Ikari recognized it.

"It isn't something just anyone could do."

The empty cans and glasses piled up. They alternated leaning over the bar and on each other. His shoulder was broad and warm, if a little bony. Studying him now through a soft prescription of booze goggles without anyone else to compare him to, he wasn't a total waste of humanity. Just a partial waste. At least his jaw wasn't weak and his eyes weren't terrible.

"You got a girlfriend, Akari?"

He tried to grin. "Not since high school."

"Oh?" His tone communicated a story behind that.

"Yeah… Uh, it got kind of weird with her."

Certainly weirdness would be a benefit in dating him. "Like, she was an S&M stalker?"

He blushed brightly, but laughed. "Mana just got… weird."

She was positive he was a virgin when they first met and felt reassured when they spoke a second time. Now she began to think his shuffling bashfulness was chronic and not entirely related to her own magnificent sexiness. Which was both disappointing and offensive.

But there was no possible way anyone could ever look at him and say he was settling for a girl like Asuka. She was so far out of his league she was in an entirely different sport. And while he was awkward and boring and weak, he still possessed enough particular, obscure merits to justify existence, at least compared to the rest of his peers. And Asuka's greatness was so great, even being near someone like him wouldn't tarnish her. She wasn't lowering herself, she was raising him up.

She polished off another glass.

"So you're not a fan of the S&M weird," she said. Which was weird itself. She had him pegged as a deviant. "What are you a fan of?"

Shinji blinked through a few beers to seriously consider the question. "I guess… someone smart and talented. Someone confident who knows where they're going. Someone who isn't afraid." He spoke with genuine longing, and looked at her. "You know someone, Ms. Soryu?"

She appraised him. She allowed him to see a slow smile.

"Call me Asuka."

/\/\/\/\

"Asuka!"

He groaned her name like a dying beast as she patiently waited for him to ride it out. His nails clawed deep into her dirty comforter, his back arched, his entire body shuddered and strained in perfect ecstasy.

No faking that, she thought.

He leaned over her, sweaty hair in disarray, his flushed face full of import and meaning. The sinking feeling he would declare his love took hold. Instead he kissed her, entirely too tentatively to convey anything.

He rolled beside her and they were quiet in the dark. She listened to his ragged breath gradually return to normal, a soft steady white noise lulling her into a distracted haze until the last six minutes of awkward fumbling felt like a million years ago. She stared at the ceiling listening to his inhalation slow until she was positive he was asleep. She sighed and shut her eyes.

He turned to her.

"Can we do it again?" he asked.

How disgusting, she thought.

/\/\/\/\

She woke up before her alarm. She woke up alone. The shadow of outrage over both occurrences mingled until nothing but a vague sense of overall dissatisfaction remained.

Asuka got out of bed gingerly, sore and frustrated. She plucked a loose shirt from the floor and shrugged into it. His clothes were gone.

The dorm halls were quiet and empty, the kitchen was deserted except for Shinji. No sluts chatted him up as he poked around with a sickly grimace, like he'd catch something just by looking at all the dirty dishes and old food. He noticed her at the edge of the kitchen and cautiously brightened.

"Oh, good morning," he said, coloring. He glanced towards the open cabinets. "Sorry. I wanted to make breakfast for you, but, uh, supplies seem to be limited."

Jesus fucking Christ, Asuka thought in revulsion. What was wrong with this guy? What the hell possessed her last night? What sort of milquetoast limp sack of effeminately domesticated shit made Asuka Langley Soryu breakfast in bed?

Definitely not her next boyfriend. She resolved to kick him out, or kick his ass, or both concurrently, and chalk this entire debacle up to too much good alcohol. Which she would need to promptly forget all this with even more, even better alcohol.

En route to his violent removal from her life she stopped. She cocked her head. She stared at him. She slowly approached.

"Even coffee…" he went on. "There's plenty here but the maker is a mess. The filter hasn't been cleaned in days and the pot is stained and cracked—"

"Shut up," she ordered.

He obeyed. Asuka stepped very close, cornering him in against the counter and sink. She peered at him. He gulped at the proximity, looking for escape.

There. Right there. Along the jaw line shadowing his chin. Like sexy pepper on the bland ice cold bowl of soup that was Shinji Ikari: stubble.

It took all of her early morning faculties to refrain from having at it right there and then. For all his confidence and ability, Kaworu was always as smooth shaven as the day he was born. Facial hair became a private fetish she resolved to give up on years ago.

Asuka rethought her course of action.

Shinji swallowed audibly. "… S-So about the food and—"

"Forget about that," she snapped. She backed off a step and glanced away, angry over blushing. "There's never anything to eat in this dump."

"O-Oh."

"So… let's go out to eat."

"Oh."

He would never overshadow her. If anything, he might get lost in hers. Shinji was no threat to her superiority; the pants were back where they belonged. He was deferent and tame and trainable. He was safe. He had stubble.

And he was fine for now.

They headed for the dorm's exit together. He absently scratched at his jaw. He frowned.

"Say, could I run back to my dorm and shave real quick?" he asked.

"No," she told him.

/\/\/\/\

End

Author notes: Asuka in college, attempt number two. I think this one turned out a bit better. The crack pairing of Asuka/Kaworu was surprisingly endearing to write.

Just to be absolutely, painfully clear: this was meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Like Soloist was supposed to be. I have trouble conveying tone in-piece. So instead of working at that failing I'll take the easy way out.

Kane means "bell." I think. I thought it sounded cute. And yes, four-year-olds can direct like that.